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hetalia2011-01-15 03:23 pm
lahelapup.livejournal.com) wrote in hetalia2011-01-15 03:23 pm
Entry tags:
One Last Chance
Title: One Last Chance
Characters/Pairings: America, Canada, England/France (VERY brief mention of Russia)
Word Count: 4,302
Rating: PG
Summary: Young, 12 year old Alfred is tired of always being told what to do. After all, he is almost 13, practically a man! So when his parents tell him that he is not allowed to go on the class trip, he finds a way to go anyway. But was it a good idea?
**NOTE: Most of the story is a flashback, except for the beginning and the end... (I wrote this a long time ago, so I hope it makes sense)
“H-Hello?”
“Dad, it’s me, Alfred.”
“Alfred?! Oh my God! Are- Are you ok? What happened? Why aren’t you home yet? We called your teacher, and she said she saw you! So I was just going to punish you when you got home! But then you didn’t come home, and Matthew said he didn’t know what happened, and… How could you do this to me?!!!!!!!” His voice cracks, and his sobbing can be heard through the phone. Alfred sighs as he waits patiently for his dad to pull himself together.
“I’m ok, Dad, really.”
“Where are you?” This was a very good question. Al had never had a very good sense of direction. Now was no exception.
“I’m- I’m not sure…”
“Well, look around you! What do you see?!”
“Uhh, cars, trees, a bar over there…”
“No! What’s the name of the street you’re on?!” Alfred squints as he reads the green and white sign standing several meters away.
“I’m on Cyprus Creek Road. Do you know where that is?”
“No, but I’ll google map it. Stay where you are; I’m on my way! Seriously, Alfred, don’t move!”
“Ok, bye.”
“I… I love you, son.” Then, he hangs up, and the connection is lost. Though there is no longer anyone on the other line, Alfred continues to hold the phone up to his ear, as if doing so would bring his dad here sooner.
‘It will be awhile before Dad gets here,’ he thinks to himself. ‘First, he’ll run to tell Papa and Matthew that he’s found me(And call off the police search), then he’s going to cry and ask where he went wrong, then Papa will remind him that he’s supposed to be on his way to already, and then he’ll jump up and start rushing around the house, throwing things into his suitcase. Only after doing all this will he make the 3 hour drive to come and get me.’
Alfred takes another look at his surroundings and frowns. He didn’t tell Dad that he was sleeping on the streets, with just a bus stop shelter over his head. Or that his money was gone, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He lets out a heavy sigh as he sets up his pathetic excuse for a bed. A pillow and a fleece blanket. After smoothing the cover along the sidewalk, he kneels down on the ground and pulls his ipod out of his backpack. Popping his headphones in, he lies down, blasts some music, and thinks back on how he ended up in this mess. Just a few days ago, he had been perfectly safe at home. Now he is on his own, hours away from home, and completely lost. It had all started out as a normal day, too (The day he decided to leave, that is)…
******************************************************************************************************************************************************
Alfred hopped off the bus and raced to the house, while Matthew trudged behind him. Same as always. However, when he reached the front door, he was met by two very angry parents. “H-hey, Dad, hey Papa… What’s up?” Dad spoke for the both of them.
“You’re not going on the trip,” he said angrily.
“What?! Why?!”
“We received a phone call from your teacher, informing us about your poor grades. How long did you think you could keep this from us?!”
“Oh… ”
“Your teacher and I both agree that this is the best option, so you can use this time to catch up on your assignments.”
“But I’ll be the only kid who doesn’t get to go to Disney World!” The corners of his mouth pulled down into a pouting expression, and he looked up innocently at his fathers with his big, blue eyes. For a moment, it looked as if Papa was going to cave in, but Dad was standing firm, and he forced his husband to do the same.
“Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to slack off,” he said coldly. Alfred was shocked and disappointed. That pouting thing usually worked!
“So, Matthew gets to go on the trip, but I don’t?! That’s not fair!”
“Yes, it is. Matthew kept his grades up. He deserves to go.”
“But-“
“Alfred, I mean it! You’re not going on this trip, and that’s final!” Alfred’s eyes filled with angry tears.
“I hate you!” he cried. He ran upstairs to his room, locked the door, and flung himself on his bed. His little body shook as he cried into his pillow. A moment or two later, there was a knock at his door. “Go away!” he shouted. Dad couldn’t understand how he was feeling; he barely understood it himself. They used to be so close, but lately, they seemed to be drifting apart. (Looking back on it now, it seems like a stupid reason to fight.)
Finally, he sat up and wiped his eyes. “I shouldn’t have to take this,” he grumbled. “I’m the most popular kid in the sixth grade. Heck, I’m the class president!” He had even come up with the idea for the location of the end of the year trip. It would just be wrong if he didn’t go. Glancing over his bags, which were already packed, he came up with an idea. He immediately hopped off the bed, rushed over to the bags, and opened them up. In order for this to work, he would have to pack light. He pulled out some clothes, his spending money, his ipod, a pair of sunglasses, a toothbrush, and his secret cell phone (The one his dad didn’t know about because, apparently, Alfred was too young for a cell phone). He shoved these things, plus a blanket and a small travel pillow into his suitcase. After forcing the zipper shut, he stepped back and smiled at his accomplishment. All the other stupid, extra stuff that Dad had packed was unnecessary.
The next morning, there was another knock at Alfred’s door (It was still locked from the night before, and he wasn’t about to unlock it for his Dad). “Al? Al, we’re leaving to go drop Matthew off. We won’t be long.” Silence. “Maybe we can all go out for breakfast when we get home.” Silence. “Please open the door…” There was a tender note of desperation in his voice. But Alfred couldn’t give in, no matter how much his father begged. “Ok, bye, son,” he finally said as he walked away from his bedroom. Al patiently waited as he listened to the racing of footsteps and the heaving of heavy luggage. When he heard the sound of the garage door opened and then closed again, he knew that they had left. He hopped out of bed, grabbed his backpack, and ran downstairs, locking his door behind him. This would hopefully buy him at least a couple of hours before they noticed he was missing.
The bike ride to the middle school was, uncomfortable, to say the least. Though he had tried to bring as little as possible, the bag still felt heavy and awkward on his shoulders as he pedaled uphill. When he finally reached his destination, he took a short break. “Good,” he panted. “The busses are still here.” He then snuck around back and stored his bike in the trees behind the playground before slowly creeping up towards the busses.
When Alfred peeked around the corner, he watched as all the parents said goodbye to their children. Dad and Papa were hugging Matthew one last time before he got on the bus. Alfred hung his head and looked awkwardly down at the ground. He wished he was out there too, even if it would have been embarrassing… - “Just forget it,” he told himself, as he attempted to focus on the task at hand. How was he supposed to sneak on the bus? Just as he was thinking of a plan, one of the teachers who was guarding bus #3 stepped away for a minute to go talk to some concerned family members. Not wasting a second, he bolted all the way onto the back of the bus. It was only after he plopped down into a seat that he realized he had company.
“What are you doing here?!” Alfred spun around to face whoever it was. Thankfully, it turned out to be Matt.
“Oh, good; it’s just you,” he sighed with relief. “And, uh, isn’t it obvious? I’m going on the trip, duh!”
“But Dad said no!” Alfred rolled his eyes.
“Well, I don’t care what he says anymore. I’m big enough to make my own decisions. I have everything under control; I mean, I got here by myself, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Then just relax- Uh oh, the teacher’s checking the seats?”
“Still have everything under control?” Matt asked, sarcastically. Alfred glared at his brother.
“Oh, just shut up and hide me!”
“No! I want no part in this!”
“Please?” he begged, this time giving him his best pouting face. “I’ve never been to Disney World before…” Matt sighed.
"Fine. Get under my seat. Quickly!” So, Alfred crawled under there, and Matthew put his duffel bag in front of him.
“Matthew? You’re sitting alone, dear?” the teacher asked when she finally reached the back row.
“Uh, yeah,” Matt answered nervously. “I… I just wanted to finish my reading assignment for English, and I’ll get more done if I’m by myself.”
“We have a reading assignment?!” Alfred blurted out. Matthew kicked his duffel bag into his stomach to make him shut up.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Matthew assured her. “My luggage was just bothering me where it was.”
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t want company…”
“Yes, yes I’m sure! In fact, I’m going to get started on my reading right now.”
“Ok. I’ll be a few rows up if you change your mind.”
“Nerd!” Alfred called out as she was walking away. Matthew gave another hard kick to his bag. “Oww!”
“You should be thanking me,” he whispered. “I just saved your butt.”
“All right… thanks. Can I come out now?”
“Sure! Why not? And while we’re at it, why don’t we announce your arrival, and you can parade up and down the aisle!”
“The sarcasm was unnecessary. A simple no would suffice. Hey, can you at least hand me my DS?”
“Sure. Here you go.” And that was his bus ride: crammed under a seat behind his brother’s bag, trying to distract himself with handheld Mario party. The monotony was occasionally broken when his brother slipped him a cookie or some pretzels that Dad had packed for him. But overall, it sucked. By the time the bus pulled in front of the hotel, Alfred was so stiff that he found it hard to move out of his curled up position. After Matt moved out of the way, he crawled out from his hiding place and waited as the last few kids walked off the bus. As he snuck into the hotel with all the other kids, he wondered if Dad and Papa knew he was gone. He wondered if they cared. Did they even want him back after all of the things he had done lately? He had been acting out for quite some time for no reason in particular. He was just tired of being told what to do. He wanted some freedom, and they were suffocating him. He sighed. “312,” he muttered to himself. “Matt is in room 312.”
When Matthew answered the door, he opened it a tiny bit, then, seeing that it was Alfred, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in. “What were you thinking!?” he cried. “I told you to wait in the lobby!”
“You did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Matthew rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead.
“You never listen to me,” he grumbled.
“Don’t take it personally, Matt… nobody ever listens to you. So, which side of the bed are you sleeping on?”
“Umm… actually, I have a roommate. He didn’t have a friend to bunk with either, so we both got paired together.”
“Well, we can all three share the bed, I guess.”
“I don’t think he’d like to share anymore than he has to.”
“Pff! Who is it? I’ll talk him into it!”
“I-Ivan.” Matt trembled a little as he said the name. Alfred’s eyes widened.
“Then I’ll sleep under your side of the bed.” It wasn’t that he was afraid of Ivan; he just didn’t trust him. Ivan was a very shifty kid. So he spent the night huddled under a full sized bed. He debated whether he would have had more fun at home doing his assignments. As he coughed up more dust (the underside of the bed was not clean), this idea didn’t seem so crazy. Alfred pulled out his cell phone and started to call home. But then he thought better of it and hung up; he had risked far too much to get here, and he was determined to ride some rides before going home.
Alfred was very sore when he woke up the next morning. But when he sat up to stretch, his forehead hit the metal frame of the bed. “Ow!!” he yelped, temporarily forgetting his situation. Holding his hand to the afflicted area, he peeked up from under the bed to see if anyone had heard him. Nope. His roommates were already gone. Al smiled as he dragged himself out from under the bed and ran out of the room.
The weekend at Disney World was awesome! He rode all the rides, and when the teachers weren’t around, he was able to hang out with all his friends. They were more than willing to keep the secret, so he had dozens of his own personal spies on the lookout for anyone who could get him into trouble. (But apparently, his teacher knew he was there the whole time, so he was hiding for nothing…) He bragged to all his buds that being on your own was easy. “I could do this forever,” he confidently told Kiku. (Alfred thinks back on these famous last words. Forever? No, definitely not.)
On Sunday, he realized just how stupid this idea was when he missed the bus. He really had to go to the bathroom, and he thought he had plenty of time. He thought wrong, of course, but by the time he figured this out, it was too late.
“What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” he asked himself while pacing frantically around the front of the park. He hadn’t the faintest idea of which direction the busses went, even if he was up to the task of trying to run after them. Alfred had never felt more lost in his entire life. There was no way to fix this, and he was all alone. He felt sick with fear and confusion. Sitting down on a bench, he put his head between his knees and took slow, deep breaths. A few minutes later, somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to find that he was facing a police officer.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Are you lost, little boy?” Alfred blushed with embarrassment from being called a little boy.
“I’m going to be 13 soon… not a boy,” he grumbled to himself as he looked down at the concrete. When he looked back up, he noticed that the man was still looking at him intently; obviously, he was waiting for an answer.
“Uh, no, of course not. My dad is… going to get the car and pull up here. He’ll be back soon.” He flashed one of his charismatic grins, as if doing so might help his case. The officer just smiled back.
“Well, I’m going to wait here with you; is that ok? Just until your dad comes back.”
“Aww, you don’t need to do that. Aren’t you really busy? (Don’t you have something better to do?)” This time he did not say anything; he just took a seat next to him. Alfred swallowed hard and eyed the police officer with a look of anxiety. One minute went by, then two, then ten. All the while, the man did not once change his facial expression. He did, once or twice, casually look down at his watch, glance at Alfred, then go back to scanning the parking lot.
“He parked really far away,” Alfred said finally, after a long period of silence. “You can go, really; I’ll be ok.”
“I’ve got time,” he answered without looking up from the book that he had pulled out of his pocket. Inside, he was debating whether he should tell the cop the truth. He could contact his parents and end this nightmare. But that would mean admitting that he was wrong and begging for forgiveness, neither of which he was willing to do. So he remained silent and waited for some distraction, any distraction, to happen.
Suddenly, as if on cue, there was a loud crash nearby, and within seconds, there was a frenzy of people shouting, running, and cussing. All traffic in the parking lot had stopped, and everybody was getting out of their cars to see what was going on. Alfred never found out the details of what happened; he didn’t stick around long enough. Immediately after the crash, the cop bolted toward the accident, and yelled at Alfred to stay there. But he never turned around, so once he was a good distance away, Alfred turned and ran out the exit. He didn’t stop running until he was at least a few blocks away from the theme park.
After taking a second to stop and catch his breath, he began to wander aimlessly up and down the streets of Orlando. He wasn’t sure what to do next- maybe, through a series of complicated schemes, he could figure out a way home on his own. As he walked, he began to piece together a plan. He would sneak into the back of a car that was going the right direction, then he would hop off when he got close enough, then he would take a bus back to his neighborhood, get his bike from the school, pedal home, and climb in through the window before Matt and the others even got home. Yes, it could be done. All the great heroes in the movies did stuff like this, so why couldn’t he? He was, after all, the obvious hero in this adventure. Alfred turned to face the cars on the street that were currently stopped at a red light. This was his chance! Only then did it finally occur to him that he didn’t know which direction was the right direction towards his house. With a heavy-hearted sigh, he abandoned his idea and kept on walking.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he started to get tired. He guessed that it had been a few hours since his escape from Disney World, but he never bothered to figure that out for sure. All that he knew was that before long, his aching legs dragged him into a small park that reminded him of home. He went over to the shelter house, took a long drink from the water fountain, and then flopped down on a picnic table. Without lifting his head, he quickly glanced around the park to find that it was mostly empty. The clouds must have scared everybody away. Only three people had ignored nature’s warning signs, and they continued to play catch in the field. It was a father with his twin boys, who couldn’t have been any older than four. They were just tossing around a baseball, but they all looked so happy. Even when one of the boys smacked the ball right into the dad in the knee, that smile never left his face. Alfred felt a sudden wave of jealousy come over him. Those kids were exactly where they were supposed to be. Though the rain had started to fall, and they were far from their car, they were still more protected than he was. They had the love of their father to shield them, a love that would always be there, a love that he himself had rejected by coming here. “Dad,” he muttered inaudibly before his heavy eyelids pulled closed and sleep took him.
Alfred woke up to the crashing of thunder. The harmless rain shower had turned into a raging storm. It was very dark, except when a bolt of lightning temporarily lit up the sky. The drops of water pelted the roof of the shelter, and the wind was knocking over garbage cans and breaking branches off of trees. The family was long gone, and he was all alone. Feeling his clothes, he realized that he was already soaking wet; the rain was falling so hard that it was coming inside the shelter. He quickly moved to the driest area, which was under a table. He wrapped his blanket around himself and pulled his knees up to his chest in an attempt to stay warm, but it was no use. Everything he had with him was so wet, that he might as well have not had any clothes at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about something else as he sat, shivering, on the cold, hard ground. Whenever there was another crash of thunder, his entire body shook with fear, and he closed his eyes even tighter. He hated thunderstorms. Always had, always will.
“I wanna go home,” he whimpered, crying quietly. “Get me out of here…” For what was probably the third time that weekend, he pulled out his cell phone. But he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. If he did, then he would lose. It would just prove that he can’t survive on his own. “I’m going to make it,” he said aloud over and over again until he finally got the confidence to put the phone away. The storm wouldn’t last forever. It would, however, last for over an hour, and when it was all over, Alfred cautiously stood up, feeling ashamed of himself for being so afraid. It was then that he realized how hungry he was. His watch said that it was about 7:00, and he hadn’t had anything to eat all day. He was starving! But he had no money left; it had all been spent on useless souvenirs. Alfred looked at his new t- shirts, photos, key chains, and toy sword with regret. They wouldn’t help him get food.
He left the park and continued his journey to nowhere very slowly and without purpose. It didn’t matter long or how far he walked; he wasn’t getting any closer to home. Now that the sky was clear, the streets were bustling with all types of people who were just enjoying the night life. Alfred looked up at some of them, hoping to see a friendly face that he could ask for help. A few of them looked down at him with pity, but most of them just kept walking. Everyone except him, it seemed, had places to go. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he stopped to sit down and rest at an old bus stop. It was getting dark; he had to do something. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He prayed. Alfred told himself that this wasn’t a bad idea. He had been to church- once. He felt a twinge of guilt, then shrugged it off and started to pray.
“Hey, God,” he whispered. “It’s me Alfred. “I know I’ve done some… some bad stuff, but I’m really sorry,” he sniffed. “I need your help. I want to go home! I’m hungry and tired, and I don’t know what to do! I’m lost, and I don’t know where I am anymore!!!” At this point, he was in a fit of hysterics. “Please help me!” Then there was a clunk as something hit the ground. It was his cell phone that had fallen out of his pocket. He picked it up and held it in his hand for a moment. “No,” he pleaded, finally understanding the sign. “Anything but that.” The phone beeped to show that the battery was dying. This was it… one last chance. He sighed and dialed the number; his fingers trembled as they pressed each button.
*********************************************************************************************************************************************************8
Alfred lies awake, still quietly listening to his music. The streets are deserted, and they have been so for a couple hours now. He is almost asleep when he sees the headlights of a car approaching. The beams of light shine into his eyes, and he has to look away for a minute. When he turns back around, the car has stopped, and a blonde haired man has stepped out of it.
“Dad!” he cries, jumping up and running into his open arms. These arms close tightly around him and pull him close into his father’s chest. He doesn’t try to get away, like he usually does; he just stands there and enjoys the feeling of being hugged. “I love you too,” he whispers through his quiet sobbing; his face still buried in his Dad’s shirt. He knows that he is in a lot of trouble; he knows that he will be asked a lot of questions; he knows that it will take awhile to gain back trust. But he doesn’t worry about this. Something in his Dad’s heartbeat, his embrace, and his steady breathing tells him that everything is going to be all right. He is under the shield of his father’s love again, and that shield can endure anything.
Characters/Pairings: America, Canada, England/France (VERY brief mention of Russia)
Word Count: 4,302
Rating: PG
Summary: Young, 12 year old Alfred is tired of always being told what to do. After all, he is almost 13, practically a man! So when his parents tell him that he is not allowed to go on the class trip, he finds a way to go anyway. But was it a good idea?
**NOTE: Most of the story is a flashback, except for the beginning and the end... (I wrote this a long time ago, so I hope it makes sense)
“H-Hello?”
“Dad, it’s me, Alfred.”
“Alfred?! Oh my God! Are- Are you ok? What happened? Why aren’t you home yet? We called your teacher, and she said she saw you! So I was just going to punish you when you got home! But then you didn’t come home, and Matthew said he didn’t know what happened, and… How could you do this to me?!!!!!!!” His voice cracks, and his sobbing can be heard through the phone. Alfred sighs as he waits patiently for his dad to pull himself together.
“I’m ok, Dad, really.”
“Where are you?” This was a very good question. Al had never had a very good sense of direction. Now was no exception.
“I’m- I’m not sure…”
“Well, look around you! What do you see?!”
“Uhh, cars, trees, a bar over there…”
“No! What’s the name of the street you’re on?!” Alfred squints as he reads the green and white sign standing several meters away.
“I’m on Cyprus Creek Road. Do you know where that is?”
“No, but I’ll google map it. Stay where you are; I’m on my way! Seriously, Alfred, don’t move!”
“Ok, bye.”
“I… I love you, son.” Then, he hangs up, and the connection is lost. Though there is no longer anyone on the other line, Alfred continues to hold the phone up to his ear, as if doing so would bring his dad here sooner.
‘It will be awhile before Dad gets here,’ he thinks to himself. ‘First, he’ll run to tell Papa and Matthew that he’s found me(And call off the police search), then he’s going to cry and ask where he went wrong, then Papa will remind him that he’s supposed to be on his way to already, and then he’ll jump up and start rushing around the house, throwing things into his suitcase. Only after doing all this will he make the 3 hour drive to come and get me.’
Alfred takes another look at his surroundings and frowns. He didn’t tell Dad that he was sleeping on the streets, with just a bus stop shelter over his head. Or that his money was gone, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He lets out a heavy sigh as he sets up his pathetic excuse for a bed. A pillow and a fleece blanket. After smoothing the cover along the sidewalk, he kneels down on the ground and pulls his ipod out of his backpack. Popping his headphones in, he lies down, blasts some music, and thinks back on how he ended up in this mess. Just a few days ago, he had been perfectly safe at home. Now he is on his own, hours away from home, and completely lost. It had all started out as a normal day, too (The day he decided to leave, that is)…
******************************************************************************************************************************************************
Alfred hopped off the bus and raced to the house, while Matthew trudged behind him. Same as always. However, when he reached the front door, he was met by two very angry parents. “H-hey, Dad, hey Papa… What’s up?” Dad spoke for the both of them.
“You’re not going on the trip,” he said angrily.
“What?! Why?!”
“We received a phone call from your teacher, informing us about your poor grades. How long did you think you could keep this from us?!”
“Oh… ”
“Your teacher and I both agree that this is the best option, so you can use this time to catch up on your assignments.”
“But I’ll be the only kid who doesn’t get to go to Disney World!” The corners of his mouth pulled down into a pouting expression, and he looked up innocently at his fathers with his big, blue eyes. For a moment, it looked as if Papa was going to cave in, but Dad was standing firm, and he forced his husband to do the same.
“Well, you should have thought of that before you decided to slack off,” he said coldly. Alfred was shocked and disappointed. That pouting thing usually worked!
“So, Matthew gets to go on the trip, but I don’t?! That’s not fair!”
“Yes, it is. Matthew kept his grades up. He deserves to go.”
“But-“
“Alfred, I mean it! You’re not going on this trip, and that’s final!” Alfred’s eyes filled with angry tears.
“I hate you!” he cried. He ran upstairs to his room, locked the door, and flung himself on his bed. His little body shook as he cried into his pillow. A moment or two later, there was a knock at his door. “Go away!” he shouted. Dad couldn’t understand how he was feeling; he barely understood it himself. They used to be so close, but lately, they seemed to be drifting apart. (Looking back on it now, it seems like a stupid reason to fight.)
Finally, he sat up and wiped his eyes. “I shouldn’t have to take this,” he grumbled. “I’m the most popular kid in the sixth grade. Heck, I’m the class president!” He had even come up with the idea for the location of the end of the year trip. It would just be wrong if he didn’t go. Glancing over his bags, which were already packed, he came up with an idea. He immediately hopped off the bed, rushed over to the bags, and opened them up. In order for this to work, he would have to pack light. He pulled out some clothes, his spending money, his ipod, a pair of sunglasses, a toothbrush, and his secret cell phone (The one his dad didn’t know about because, apparently, Alfred was too young for a cell phone). He shoved these things, plus a blanket and a small travel pillow into his suitcase. After forcing the zipper shut, he stepped back and smiled at his accomplishment. All the other stupid, extra stuff that Dad had packed was unnecessary.
The next morning, there was another knock at Alfred’s door (It was still locked from the night before, and he wasn’t about to unlock it for his Dad). “Al? Al, we’re leaving to go drop Matthew off. We won’t be long.” Silence. “Maybe we can all go out for breakfast when we get home.” Silence. “Please open the door…” There was a tender note of desperation in his voice. But Alfred couldn’t give in, no matter how much his father begged. “Ok, bye, son,” he finally said as he walked away from his bedroom. Al patiently waited as he listened to the racing of footsteps and the heaving of heavy luggage. When he heard the sound of the garage door opened and then closed again, he knew that they had left. He hopped out of bed, grabbed his backpack, and ran downstairs, locking his door behind him. This would hopefully buy him at least a couple of hours before they noticed he was missing.
The bike ride to the middle school was, uncomfortable, to say the least. Though he had tried to bring as little as possible, the bag still felt heavy and awkward on his shoulders as he pedaled uphill. When he finally reached his destination, he took a short break. “Good,” he panted. “The busses are still here.” He then snuck around back and stored his bike in the trees behind the playground before slowly creeping up towards the busses.
When Alfred peeked around the corner, he watched as all the parents said goodbye to their children. Dad and Papa were hugging Matthew one last time before he got on the bus. Alfred hung his head and looked awkwardly down at the ground. He wished he was out there too, even if it would have been embarrassing… - “Just forget it,” he told himself, as he attempted to focus on the task at hand. How was he supposed to sneak on the bus? Just as he was thinking of a plan, one of the teachers who was guarding bus #3 stepped away for a minute to go talk to some concerned family members. Not wasting a second, he bolted all the way onto the back of the bus. It was only after he plopped down into a seat that he realized he had company.
“What are you doing here?!” Alfred spun around to face whoever it was. Thankfully, it turned out to be Matt.
“Oh, good; it’s just you,” he sighed with relief. “And, uh, isn’t it obvious? I’m going on the trip, duh!”
“But Dad said no!” Alfred rolled his eyes.
“Well, I don’t care what he says anymore. I’m big enough to make my own decisions. I have everything under control; I mean, I got here by myself, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Then just relax- Uh oh, the teacher’s checking the seats?”
“Still have everything under control?” Matt asked, sarcastically. Alfred glared at his brother.
“Oh, just shut up and hide me!”
“No! I want no part in this!”
“Please?” he begged, this time giving him his best pouting face. “I’ve never been to Disney World before…” Matt sighed.
"Fine. Get under my seat. Quickly!” So, Alfred crawled under there, and Matthew put his duffel bag in front of him.
“Matthew? You’re sitting alone, dear?” the teacher asked when she finally reached the back row.
“Uh, yeah,” Matt answered nervously. “I… I just wanted to finish my reading assignment for English, and I’ll get more done if I’m by myself.”
“We have a reading assignment?!” Alfred blurted out. Matthew kicked his duffel bag into his stomach to make him shut up.
“What was that?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Matthew assured her. “My luggage was just bothering me where it was.”
“Well, if you’re sure you don’t want company…”
“Yes, yes I’m sure! In fact, I’m going to get started on my reading right now.”
“Ok. I’ll be a few rows up if you change your mind.”
“Nerd!” Alfred called out as she was walking away. Matthew gave another hard kick to his bag. “Oww!”
“You should be thanking me,” he whispered. “I just saved your butt.”
“All right… thanks. Can I come out now?”
“Sure! Why not? And while we’re at it, why don’t we announce your arrival, and you can parade up and down the aisle!”
“The sarcasm was unnecessary. A simple no would suffice. Hey, can you at least hand me my DS?”
“Sure. Here you go.” And that was his bus ride: crammed under a seat behind his brother’s bag, trying to distract himself with handheld Mario party. The monotony was occasionally broken when his brother slipped him a cookie or some pretzels that Dad had packed for him. But overall, it sucked. By the time the bus pulled in front of the hotel, Alfred was so stiff that he found it hard to move out of his curled up position. After Matt moved out of the way, he crawled out from his hiding place and waited as the last few kids walked off the bus. As he snuck into the hotel with all the other kids, he wondered if Dad and Papa knew he was gone. He wondered if they cared. Did they even want him back after all of the things he had done lately? He had been acting out for quite some time for no reason in particular. He was just tired of being told what to do. He wanted some freedom, and they were suffocating him. He sighed. “312,” he muttered to himself. “Matt is in room 312.”
When Matthew answered the door, he opened it a tiny bit, then, seeing that it was Alfred, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in. “What were you thinking!?” he cried. “I told you to wait in the lobby!”
“You did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Matthew rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead.
“You never listen to me,” he grumbled.
“Don’t take it personally, Matt… nobody ever listens to you. So, which side of the bed are you sleeping on?”
“Umm… actually, I have a roommate. He didn’t have a friend to bunk with either, so we both got paired together.”
“Well, we can all three share the bed, I guess.”
“I don’t think he’d like to share anymore than he has to.”
“Pff! Who is it? I’ll talk him into it!”
“I-Ivan.” Matt trembled a little as he said the name. Alfred’s eyes widened.
“Then I’ll sleep under your side of the bed.” It wasn’t that he was afraid of Ivan; he just didn’t trust him. Ivan was a very shifty kid. So he spent the night huddled under a full sized bed. He debated whether he would have had more fun at home doing his assignments. As he coughed up more dust (the underside of the bed was not clean), this idea didn’t seem so crazy. Alfred pulled out his cell phone and started to call home. But then he thought better of it and hung up; he had risked far too much to get here, and he was determined to ride some rides before going home.
Alfred was very sore when he woke up the next morning. But when he sat up to stretch, his forehead hit the metal frame of the bed. “Ow!!” he yelped, temporarily forgetting his situation. Holding his hand to the afflicted area, he peeked up from under the bed to see if anyone had heard him. Nope. His roommates were already gone. Al smiled as he dragged himself out from under the bed and ran out of the room.
The weekend at Disney World was awesome! He rode all the rides, and when the teachers weren’t around, he was able to hang out with all his friends. They were more than willing to keep the secret, so he had dozens of his own personal spies on the lookout for anyone who could get him into trouble. (But apparently, his teacher knew he was there the whole time, so he was hiding for nothing…) He bragged to all his buds that being on your own was easy. “I could do this forever,” he confidently told Kiku. (Alfred thinks back on these famous last words. Forever? No, definitely not.)
On Sunday, he realized just how stupid this idea was when he missed the bus. He really had to go to the bathroom, and he thought he had plenty of time. He thought wrong, of course, but by the time he figured this out, it was too late.
“What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” he asked himself while pacing frantically around the front of the park. He hadn’t the faintest idea of which direction the busses went, even if he was up to the task of trying to run after them. Alfred had never felt more lost in his entire life. There was no way to fix this, and he was all alone. He felt sick with fear and confusion. Sitting down on a bench, he put his head between his knees and took slow, deep breaths. A few minutes later, somebody tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to find that he was facing a police officer.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Are you lost, little boy?” Alfred blushed with embarrassment from being called a little boy.
“I’m going to be 13 soon… not a boy,” he grumbled to himself as he looked down at the concrete. When he looked back up, he noticed that the man was still looking at him intently; obviously, he was waiting for an answer.
“Uh, no, of course not. My dad is… going to get the car and pull up here. He’ll be back soon.” He flashed one of his charismatic grins, as if doing so might help his case. The officer just smiled back.
“Well, I’m going to wait here with you; is that ok? Just until your dad comes back.”
“Aww, you don’t need to do that. Aren’t you really busy? (Don’t you have something better to do?)” This time he did not say anything; he just took a seat next to him. Alfred swallowed hard and eyed the police officer with a look of anxiety. One minute went by, then two, then ten. All the while, the man did not once change his facial expression. He did, once or twice, casually look down at his watch, glance at Alfred, then go back to scanning the parking lot.
“He parked really far away,” Alfred said finally, after a long period of silence. “You can go, really; I’ll be ok.”
“I’ve got time,” he answered without looking up from the book that he had pulled out of his pocket. Inside, he was debating whether he should tell the cop the truth. He could contact his parents and end this nightmare. But that would mean admitting that he was wrong and begging for forgiveness, neither of which he was willing to do. So he remained silent and waited for some distraction, any distraction, to happen.
Suddenly, as if on cue, there was a loud crash nearby, and within seconds, there was a frenzy of people shouting, running, and cussing. All traffic in the parking lot had stopped, and everybody was getting out of their cars to see what was going on. Alfred never found out the details of what happened; he didn’t stick around long enough. Immediately after the crash, the cop bolted toward the accident, and yelled at Alfred to stay there. But he never turned around, so once he was a good distance away, Alfred turned and ran out the exit. He didn’t stop running until he was at least a few blocks away from the theme park.
After taking a second to stop and catch his breath, he began to wander aimlessly up and down the streets of Orlando. He wasn’t sure what to do next- maybe, through a series of complicated schemes, he could figure out a way home on his own. As he walked, he began to piece together a plan. He would sneak into the back of a car that was going the right direction, then he would hop off when he got close enough, then he would take a bus back to his neighborhood, get his bike from the school, pedal home, and climb in through the window before Matt and the others even got home. Yes, it could be done. All the great heroes in the movies did stuff like this, so why couldn’t he? He was, after all, the obvious hero in this adventure. Alfred turned to face the cars on the street that were currently stopped at a red light. This was his chance! Only then did it finally occur to him that he didn’t know which direction was the right direction towards his house. With a heavy-hearted sigh, he abandoned his idea and kept on walking.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he started to get tired. He guessed that it had been a few hours since his escape from Disney World, but he never bothered to figure that out for sure. All that he knew was that before long, his aching legs dragged him into a small park that reminded him of home. He went over to the shelter house, took a long drink from the water fountain, and then flopped down on a picnic table. Without lifting his head, he quickly glanced around the park to find that it was mostly empty. The clouds must have scared everybody away. Only three people had ignored nature’s warning signs, and they continued to play catch in the field. It was a father with his twin boys, who couldn’t have been any older than four. They were just tossing around a baseball, but they all looked so happy. Even when one of the boys smacked the ball right into the dad in the knee, that smile never left his face. Alfred felt a sudden wave of jealousy come over him. Those kids were exactly where they were supposed to be. Though the rain had started to fall, and they were far from their car, they were still more protected than he was. They had the love of their father to shield them, a love that would always be there, a love that he himself had rejected by coming here. “Dad,” he muttered inaudibly before his heavy eyelids pulled closed and sleep took him.
Alfred woke up to the crashing of thunder. The harmless rain shower had turned into a raging storm. It was very dark, except when a bolt of lightning temporarily lit up the sky. The drops of water pelted the roof of the shelter, and the wind was knocking over garbage cans and breaking branches off of trees. The family was long gone, and he was all alone. Feeling his clothes, he realized that he was already soaking wet; the rain was falling so hard that it was coming inside the shelter. He quickly moved to the driest area, which was under a table. He wrapped his blanket around himself and pulled his knees up to his chest in an attempt to stay warm, but it was no use. Everything he had with him was so wet, that he might as well have not had any clothes at all. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think about something else as he sat, shivering, on the cold, hard ground. Whenever there was another crash of thunder, his entire body shook with fear, and he closed his eyes even tighter. He hated thunderstorms. Always had, always will.
“I wanna go home,” he whimpered, crying quietly. “Get me out of here…” For what was probably the third time that weekend, he pulled out his cell phone. But he couldn’t bring himself to make the call. If he did, then he would lose. It would just prove that he can’t survive on his own. “I’m going to make it,” he said aloud over and over again until he finally got the confidence to put the phone away. The storm wouldn’t last forever. It would, however, last for over an hour, and when it was all over, Alfred cautiously stood up, feeling ashamed of himself for being so afraid. It was then that he realized how hungry he was. His watch said that it was about 7:00, and he hadn’t had anything to eat all day. He was starving! But he had no money left; it had all been spent on useless souvenirs. Alfred looked at his new t- shirts, photos, key chains, and toy sword with regret. They wouldn’t help him get food.
He left the park and continued his journey to nowhere very slowly and without purpose. It didn’t matter long or how far he walked; he wasn’t getting any closer to home. Now that the sky was clear, the streets were bustling with all types of people who were just enjoying the night life. Alfred looked up at some of them, hoping to see a friendly face that he could ask for help. A few of them looked down at him with pity, but most of them just kept walking. Everyone except him, it seemed, had places to go. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he stopped to sit down and rest at an old bus stop. It was getting dark; he had to do something. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He prayed. Alfred told himself that this wasn’t a bad idea. He had been to church- once. He felt a twinge of guilt, then shrugged it off and started to pray.
“Hey, God,” he whispered. “It’s me Alfred. “I know I’ve done some… some bad stuff, but I’m really sorry,” he sniffed. “I need your help. I want to go home! I’m hungry and tired, and I don’t know what to do! I’m lost, and I don’t know where I am anymore!!!” At this point, he was in a fit of hysterics. “Please help me!” Then there was a clunk as something hit the ground. It was his cell phone that had fallen out of his pocket. He picked it up and held it in his hand for a moment. “No,” he pleaded, finally understanding the sign. “Anything but that.” The phone beeped to show that the battery was dying. This was it… one last chance. He sighed and dialed the number; his fingers trembled as they pressed each button.
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Alfred lies awake, still quietly listening to his music. The streets are deserted, and they have been so for a couple hours now. He is almost asleep when he sees the headlights of a car approaching. The beams of light shine into his eyes, and he has to look away for a minute. When he turns back around, the car has stopped, and a blonde haired man has stepped out of it.
“Dad!” he cries, jumping up and running into his open arms. These arms close tightly around him and pull him close into his father’s chest. He doesn’t try to get away, like he usually does; he just stands there and enjoys the feeling of being hugged. “I love you too,” he whispers through his quiet sobbing; his face still buried in his Dad’s shirt. He knows that he is in a lot of trouble; he knows that he will be asked a lot of questions; he knows that it will take awhile to gain back trust. But he doesn’t worry about this. Something in his Dad’s heartbeat, his embrace, and his steady breathing tells him that everything is going to be all right. He is under the shield of his father’s love again, and that shield can endure anything.
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