We haven't heard from Louie in awhile... let's see what's on his mind. :) - justducky3
He never stops moving for that long. Dewey looked like he had stopped breathing. Louie rolled off the couch and crept closer. He peeked over his shoulder to see what captured his brother's undivided attention.
It was a picture of a grown, stocky duck with a roundish head and a flattop haircut. Louie cocked his head to get a better look. "Hey, that's one of the guys Uncle D went to college with, isn't it? He's in that old picture album we found in the attic."
"It's not just that." Dewey's hand shook as he flipped the picture over. "He's-"
"Our dad." Louie stared at the name on the back of the photo, "Samuel E. Duck," dated three years before the three of them hatched. He reached over Dewey's shoulder and plucked the photo from his hand, flipping it back over. That's really him… that's what he looks like. A strange warmth washed over him, loosening the tension in his limbs. He fell back onto the carpet and stared at it.
Dewey, on the other hand, jumped to his feet and began pacing the room in a circle, similar to how Uncle Scrooge always did. "Uncle Donald went to college with our dad and never told us?! I can't believe this! H-how-how could he?"
"Well, there had to be a reason that the photo album was hidden in the attic, Dew. He didn't want us to see it." Huey limped over to where Louie laid on the ground.
They locked eyes for a second. Huey had the disapproving "parent" look on his face again. Louie prepared for the photo to be snatched from his hand, but instead, Huey picked the folder up off the ground and walked back to the couch. Louie watched him out of the corner of his eye. Why does he always have to act "holier than thou"? Not everyone can be the golden child. He rolled his eyes.
Dewey groaned. "But whyyyyy? Why did Uncle Donald have to hide it? I get why he was scared to tell us about Mom but what is it about our dad that makes all this secrecy necessary? He literally went to college with him! They had their arms around each other in that old album picture. They must have been friends. I-" Blah, blah, blah-de-dah….
Louie tuned his brother's voice out and stared back at the photo of his dad. He liked his eyes. They were warm and trusting, while holding a sense of mystery behind them. He looks cunning. What if he's a secret spice-a-torium underworld overlord? Ooh, or what if he's filthy rich, like Uncle Scrooge?
Louie memorized their dad's smile. Maybe he's everything I've ever wanted to be and that's why it's so hard for me to fit into the family mold of high-stakes adventurers. I've always kind of felt like I was adopted… like there wasn't supposed to be three of us. Dewey's exactly like mom and Huey is a practical explorer, like Uncle Scrooge… but where does that leave me? I used to think my love for money and skill for seeing the angles was a combined trait but maybe there's more to it than that.
He rolled over onto his stomach and set the picture on the floor, looking at it in the direct light. I'd love to get at least five minutes with him. I just want to know where this itching inside me comes from… this constant desire for more.
"Uh, guys?" Huey's voice brought his head out of the clouds and back to the small living room. "I think we found out why no one ever talks about him." He and Gosalyn met eyes, concern written across their faces, before turning to look at both Dewey and Louie.
Louie sat up, the photo clutched between his fingers.
Dewey stopped wearing the carpet down. "What? What is it?"
"Well, according to Ludwig's notes…" Gosalyn bit her lip and looked at Huey.
Huey glanced between the two of them, the file, and then the two of them again, like he couldn't decide whether or not to tell them.
"Tell us already!" Louie burst, the silence hurting his head worse than Dewey's jabbering.
"He worked for F.O.W.L."
The very name of the evil organization that had tried to put an end to their family legacy, draped a thick fog of quiet across the room. The Fiendish Organization of World Larceny had manipulated their lives, caused their mother to get lost in space, and changed them forever.
Huey closed the file and rubbed his forehead with it, his face dark and heavy with thought.
Dewey, on the other hand, began to pace the floor again, his brow furrowed and mouth started up again. "No, that can't be right. He wouldn't help F.O.W.L. try to destroy our family… destroy us. Even if he wasn't… you know… around for us, that doesn't mean he'd help them destroy us."
Huey dropped the file on the table and ran his hands down his knees as he stared at the floor. "VonDrake was a prisoner of F.O.W.L. for a decade. I think he would know."
"I don't care! I refuse to believe that our dad is some sort of evil genius that worked for that twisted buzzard!" Dewey ran his hands through his hair and quickened his pace around the room.
But for some reason, Louie didn't feel the same way. If their dad worked for F.O.W.L. then everything he ever wondered about his father could actually be true. I mean, sure, the part about destroying us sounds bad but maybe he didn't know Bradford was trying to destroy us. Maybe he was just in it for the money. Maybe F.O.W.L. wanted him because he was as good at seeing the angles as I am.
Suddenly, Huey's words came back around and broke his train of thought. "Louie, there comes a point where you have to run out of excuses and admit that you're the problem!"
Louie glared across the room at his downcast older brother. As much as he hated it, in a sense, Huey was right. Every time he put one of his schemes into action, something inevitably backfired and hurt him or someone he cared about. If their dad was anything like him, Louie didn't question why he worked for F.O.W.L… because maybe that was an angle that inevitably backfired on him.
"Why do you always choose to be destructive to yourself and everyone around you?"
Sometimes the angles play so well off of each other that they carry you away, blind you, and get you and the people you love into trouble. That's just the struggle of seeing things the way I always do.
Seeing the angles was all he was ever good at and sometimes it paid off and literally saved all of their butts, but did anyone ever acknowledge that aspect of his talent? No. Instead, he became "the problem." The "evil" triplet that Scrooge couldn't teach, Della couldn't control, and Donald was frankly scared of.
Ever since prison, it feels like they're all walking on glass around me. Like I'm some sort of ticking time bomb that'll go off any minute. That's exactly how Huey looked at him when he realized he had taken the growth serum at the lab… like the bomb they were all tiptoeing around had gone off.
But what if he wasn't the only one that was blinded by the angles? What if it was inherited and he wasn't just the "problem child"... the "evil" triplet?
Excitement bubbled in his stomach. What if dad's like me?