CHAPTER FIVE

That night, I dreamed of Uncle Donald.

In my dream I was crying, so Uncle Donald came into my room, put his hand on my head, and stayed by my side.

The next day, Uncle Scrooge was still blocking all the news from the kid channels. I think he also blocked every kids show that involved cruise ships, or guns, or guns shooting at cruise ships. I kept the tv on for a few hours until Mrs. Featherby asked me to help her out as some kind of exercise buddy, and after lunch Uncle Scrooge pulled me aside.

"Nephew," he said to me, which felt really weird since that's what he always called Uncle Donald, "There's something very important that we need to discuss."

He sounded so serious that my heart dropped. After all, what could be more important than what already happened?

"Now I know you're not...that you...you're not going to like this." He continued. "But ya see, we need ta have the funeral."

"Alright."

"Now, I know this is...lad, what did ye say?"

"Let's get it over with. Do I have to go though?"

"What?"

"Can I stay here during the funeral?"

Uncle Scrooge looked me in the eye for a few moments before replying.

"Aye," he said, "I willnae force you to go, you can stay here with Mrs. Featherby. But are ya sure ye won't regret missing it?"

I stared at my feet. I didn't know, so I didn't want to answer that.

"Well," Uncle Scrooge continued, "Let's get things started. At the moment I leave ya can either come with me, or stay here. How does that sound?"

"Okay I guess," I said, "Is it today?"

Uncle Scrooge nodded, and told me what time I would need to be dressed by if I wanted to go. When the time came I found myself dressed and ready. There was a suit in the closet, and I just sorta found myself putting it on. To be honest I didn't really believe I was going anywhere, and told myself I was just getting dressed. But when the time came and Uncle Scrooge was ready to go, I was all dressed and ready too so I thought I might as well tag along.

Uncle Scrooge didn't say anything as we walked out the back door. And I didn't say anything when he sent a Chauffeur into a limo and waved the limo off, and we got into what was probably Mrs. Featherby's car. (I don't think Uncle Scrooge would have put the flower blanket and knitting needles in the backseat.) The limo went one way towards the main gate while we went down another road, and eventually Uncle Scrooge got out of the car to open a small, closed gate and let us out of the mansion property.

There was a little traffic on the way to the Church, especially when we passed the main gate. It's a good thing we didn't take that road-I could see that the limo was so swamped with people that it wasn't moving. They all seemed to have cameras out.

I don't think I said more than two words for the rest of the day. Uncle Scrooge drove Mrs. Featherby's car both to the Church and the graveyard, and I didn't end up seeing any more paparazzi. The Church had some people in it and I didn't know anyone, but no one had any cameras.

The Church funeral had one big casket, with two smaller ones on the left and right.

There were three caskets at the funeral, and I think they were all empty.

There were three of them. Three caskets, and three tombstones.

Someone mentioned something about the other funerals that will happen this week, and whoever that was mentioned he would bring flowers at Grandma Duck's funeral. I think Uncle Scrooge put his hand on my shoulder when we heard that.

I don't know what happened to me the rest of the day. I was there and I saw everything, I heard Uncle Scrooge give the eulogy, I can remember everything that happened. But I don't know what happened. I didn't realize that I set the pew on my foot until Uncle Scrooge moved it for me. All I could think about were the three empty caskets. I remember everything that happened, but I don't want to remember any of it.

The next day, I woke up in Uncle Scrooge's room. That's right, I sneaked into the room last night because I didn't want to be alone. Right now the bed is empty though.

"Dewey," Uncle Scrooge said as soon as I walked into the kitchen, "It's good ta see you up. We have an appointment set up today with Dr. Healthyduck, and we'll meet with him at noon."

"Why?" I asked. I don't think I'm sick.

"He's a therapist," Uncle Scrooge explained, "I want him for meself, too. Mrs. Featherby is coming in her own car ta take you back when your appointment is done, since me own will be right after yours."

He set down some pancakes.

"And later today, we're going ta the botanical gardens. I'll be closing the entire building, and Mrs. Featherby said she is going ta pack us a picnic. We can also bring along frisbees and some other things, as long as we don't hurt any o' the garden."

"Will you be able to take that much time off?" I asked, pouring some more syrup.

"Aye," Uncle Scrooge said, "Half a day won't do any permanent damage. The world knows we are in mourning, Nephew."

"You guys doing alright?"

"Yeah, I guess. Wish they didn't separate us so much."

"Boys, I have something important to tell you. I heard the guards talking, and back home they had our funeral today."

"WHAT?!"

"Were they lying, Uncle Donald?"

Uncle Donald shook his head, then embraced the two boys. "They were pretty upset," he said with one last squeeze as he ended the hug.

"Well yeah, they want the war to happen."

"It's amazing that the war hasn't already happened."

"Uncle Scrooge must be holding it back," Uncle Donald said, "They were talking about him, too. He's taking care of Dewey now."

"Dewey and Uncle Scrooge?"

"Dang it, that means Dewey is the first one to see Uncle Scrooge's Mansion!"

"Aw, you're right! Dang it!"

The three of them huddled a little closer.

"What's going to happen to us now then?"

"I don't know boys," Uncle Donald said, "But we need to escape, and soon. All of us."