Chapter Text
The fluorescent lights were almost blinding.
The clock on the wall ticked quietly, while the cheerful voices of the bright girls and boys in the class drowned it out. Bright posters displaying information about various subjects, mostly math and English, at its most elementary form, were suspended onto the grey wall behind it. Paper and pens laid, strewn about on each table, with no child paying mind to the mess that they will have to, inevitably, clean up later.
The group’s teacher sat at the front of the room, her head buried into the computer on the desk. Beside her, and the desk, screwed into the wall was an interactive TV-like board, displaying the task the kids were meant to follow in a simple, easy to read font. The kind that was safe for schools to use for any age group.
Only some abided by what the board said, however; many of them seemed to think having a substitute for the day was a reason to slack off.
They were engrossed in their own tasks - whether that be talking to their friends, drawing on their work or other scrap pieces of paper, or simply concentrating on their work. Like they should be.
The substitute teacher was too focused on her own work to notice them getting sidetracked. She was even too busy to remind them of their high noise level, apparent by the amount of kids having to yell above one another to be heard.
It's a noise that some kids struggled with: two poor pupils sat in a corner of the room adorned with books and bean bags, both covering their ears with their hands.
The teacher paid no mind to them.
Was she used to the noise? Was it, perhaps, too loud that she had simply given up trying to contain it?
In the corner of the classroom, away from the drama and the noise of the other kids, Skid and Pump sat, exchanging no words, their respective worksheets in front of them. The latter stayed still, concentrated, as he drew all over his work, rendering it illegible - while the former sat and watched, eyes wide and focused. He always loved watching him draw.
As he drew, the image became clear: it slowly became a somewhat crude and shaky drawing of a man, and a woman. Squiggles on both of their heads represented what was meant to be curly hair. The squiggles alternated in length: shorter for the man, and longer for the woman. It also seemed as if the couple were wearing suits, with ties represented by triangles adorning both their necks.
He began to draw a heart above the pair with a red crayon.
“Is that your Mom and Dad?” Skid asked.
He was promptly met with a nod.
“I was right!” He responded, giving him a grin. “I knew them from the pictures in your house.”
The boy didn't respond to his remark and, instead, focused on the finishing touches for his drawing: he coloured in the heart, and promptly after, coloured in their suits with a typical graphite pencil. Their hair was coloured in next, with a brown crayon being used for both, drawn in circular scribbles to emphasise the curls in their hair.
“How come you're drawing them?” Skid, once again, asked; the two drew together all the time, and his parents were not often something Pump chose to draw. He never knew why, as he drew his own parents all the time.
“Hmm…” Pump thought as he placed the crayon he was holding back down on the desk. He shrugged: “Because.”
“Oooh…”
“And because I miss them.” He stated, as he looked at his drawing, subconsciously trying to make sense of the words he was well aware he scribbled over. “I wanna make something for them for when they get back-”
“Get back? They are working? Again? ” Skid asked.
Pump looked at him in response, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Yeah, I thought I told you!”
“No!”
“Well, they have been gone for a while. They're not gone for this long, mostly.” He hummed, turning his paper over, and picking up his pencil again. “The last time I saw them for real was the last time you did too.”
“So…umm…” Skid stayed silent for a moment, lost in thought as he tried to figure out just how long ago that was. He looked at Pump again once he figured out an estimate: “About a month ago?”
“I think.”
“Aww…” he sighed, looking down at his worksheet. Absolutely none of the questions were filled in, except for the sections reserved for his name and the date.
“It's okay,” Skid said with a smile. “They'll be here. I miss my Dad sometimes, too.”
“Hm…”
Skid picked up his own pencil and began to draw his own artwork, on the side of the paper so as to not get in the way of the questions and the provided space for answers - that was meant to be full.
It was empty.
The person he was drawing had short, pin-straight hair that jutted out at the ends, a stark opposite to the curly hair that Pump drew. He was watching him now, eyes focused.
Skid drew and drew, etching the person’s body, and sophisticated clothes, but he halted and froze just before he got to finish their face.
He looked to the side, eyes narrowed, his hand clasping his chin. His eyes then lit up.
“I think I have an idea,” He said sternly, looking at Pump, who furrowed his own brow in response.
“Hm?”
“Sooo, because you didn't see your Mom and Dad in so long, if they can't come and see you, you should go and see them! ” He proposed, grabbing his friend’s arm, as if he had discovered the idea of the century.
“How? They're so far away! It would take forever!” He exclaimed, a glint of worry in his eyes.
“You can hop on a train.”
“Train tickets cost a ton of money.”
“No. Like, four dollars.” He said, placing his pencil back on the desk. “Maybe five?”
“Hmm…” He hummed, subconsciously considering the potential pros and cons of the situation.
Mom and Dad...
He quickly came to his own conclusion with a smile. “I wanna see Mom and Dad! I will do it, it'll be fun!”
“Yeah!” Skid grinned, and promptly pulled Pump into a hug, one he quickly returned despite almost toppling off of his chair from the force of it. “We can talk about it more when we go to yours after school-” He continued, ruffling his curly hair as he spoke, making it ever so slightly frizzy.
The two’s embrace was cut short by the teacher’s bellowing voice finally demanding peace in the room. Their necks craned to look at her and they let go of each other almost as quickly as the embrace began.
They were probably going to get in trouble with their real teacher the next day; their lack of work was astounding - but they paid no mind to it.
They just wanted to get the day over with.
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Susie almost always got back home quicker than her brother did. On this particular day, it was straight to her room and locking the door for her - Pump couldn't guess why. It was, more than likely, an urge to draw, if he had to guess, or perhaps she had to focus on homework, or she just didn't want to deal with the outside world…
No matter, at least not until Skid was picked up: the two were here now, and in the comfort of his own room. With Grandpa asleep and Susie, hopefully, engrossed in her own things, there was no existing risk of the duo’s plan being overheard and, therefore, stopped.
“Are train tickets to that far away really that much money…?” Pump asked, his eyes focused on Skid. He sat on his stomach, and used his hands to prop his head up off of the floor. Skid sat up, opposite to him, legs crossed.
“I think so,” He began, looking around his room. “Mom and I went on a train once. ”
“Where did you go?”
“It was a ‘take your kid to work day’ thingy…” He replied, sighing. “It was reaaally boring.”
“That's a thing?” Pump giggled.
“Yeah!”
“It would be fun if Mom and Dad’s work did that…”
“I think everywhere does it.” Skid responded, craning his neck to look at him.
“Everywhere?” He asked, tilting his head ever so slightly, his voice slightly softened.
“I think.”
“Huh…”
Pump trailed off into thought, and subconsciously began to gaze at the portrait on his wall.
For a moment, it felt like simply staring at a picture on the wall did not suffice for how badly he missed them. Their warmth was not a warmth he could feel anywhere else. Their warmth was distinct, and comforting, and the house did not feel like a home without it. More than anything, he just wanted to see them, in person, instead of reading another postcard or receiving another gift. The presents were nice, of course, but there was only so many he could receive before things began to waver.
Things had already wavered with Susie. It was something he could sense.
What was he to do, aside from find them?
He blinked, and looked at Skid again. He didn't notice him looking at the picture, too.
“I'm gonna ask them about it when I see them!” Pump grinned, with Skid snapping out of his own respective trance and flashing one straight back.
“I'm excited.” He continued.
“‘Cuz you'll finally get to see them again! And maaaybe figure out when they'll be home?” Skid tilted his head.
“Yeah!”
The two flashed a smile at each other once again, giggling about things unbeknownst to each other.
“Are you gonna do it soon?” Skid asked.
Pump thought for a moment, looking off to the side. He shifted around and sat upright, similar to Skid.
“I wanna do it very soon. Tomorrow, maybe.”
“Tomorrow?” Skid sat up slightly straighter and looked at Pump, eyes wide. He looked back, unwavering.
“I miss them. Yeah, tomorrow. I might fake sick and then go to there when Grandpa’s sleeping. And I have money. And I know where the bus place is. Double and I don't wanna get yelled at by our teacher. I drew all over my work.” He said, giggling.
“That means I'm gonna get yelled at for doing nothing alone!”
Pump just laughed in response, warranting a playful hit from Skid. He merely giggled.
He was excited to see his parents again.
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Lila eventually dropped by, adorned in her work uniform. She picked up Skid and, after saying hello to Mr. Wonder, Susie, and Pump, she promptly left.
Pump waved him out, smiling as he left and then closed the door behind them. The house, behind him, was quiet: eerily tidy, with no sounds or disturbances. Absolutely none. Eerily minimalist, aside from the pictures.
This wasn't how it typically was: it was, usually, filled with laughter and games, the sound of the TV roaring, sometimes with a reporter commentating on a sports game.
Now, it was nothing. Grandpa had gone off to bed and Susie had gone back into her room. The door to his mother and father’s room stayed shut, as it had been for the past month.
He sighed.
It was cold.
He looked forward to seeing them the next day.
However, now that Skid had left and the chaos was still, he decided to make his way back to his own room and settle down himself.
On his way, however, he noticed Susie’s door, unmoving. But, unlocked.
He knocked.
On Susie’s side of the wall, she recognised that knock almost immediately - it was as if her brother had his own unique way of doing it, whether he was aware of it or not.
She got out of her bed and opened her door, met with his slightly timid face.
“What's up?” She asked, furrowing her brow ever so slightly. He refused to look up and meet her gaze, as if guilty.
“Nothing, I just…wanted to make sure you were okay.” He answered, quietly.
She kept an eye on him, and leant against the doorframe, folding her arms.
“...If you’re asking me for money, ask Grandpa, I have none-”
“I'm not asking for anything!” He exclaimed. He then looked up at her. “Your door was locked when I got home. I was wondering.”
“Yeah, obviously. I'm okay.” She smiled slightly.
He smiled back, just as faintly. He was happy that she was at least doing okay.
However, her smile faded: “Oh and if you're wondering about the phone call-”
“Oh yeah! I forgot! Mom and Dad were going to call us today!” His eyes lit up and he wore a bright grin, a stark, polar opposite to Susie’s lack thereof in the moment.
“They were meant to. I know it's not ideal, but they didn't call.”
“Aaauh! Seriously? Agaiiin? ” He groaned, exasperated, looking up to the ceiling as he did so. She only nodded in return, concealing her own sigh.
“It's fine. They texted me and said they were sorry, that they'll try again on the weekend.”
“The weekend is four days away! That's forever!”
“I know.” She sighed. “Just go and get some sleep.”
“Okaaaay…” He breathed out as he lazily spun around in a circle. “Goodniiight…”
“You'll make yourself dizzy,” She said, almost stone cold, as she lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her with a smile. “Goodnight…” She responded, and then disappeared into her room.
He stood in front of the door for a moment.
He then grinned, and ran back into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
He had a plan, and he knew it would work.
It was very cold in the house, and he knew he could bring the warmth back one way or another.
The only thing to do now was to sleep the excitement away, or at least enough to be able to execute the plan he was going to do the next day.
His parents are his world. He knows he will see them again.