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Chapter Text

Heinz flipped through the pages of a ragged science book that had fallen off a merchant’s carriage, soaking in anything he could about the properties of water and buoyancy. He didn’t know anything about swimming, since he’d never set foot in the public pool before. 

Sure, he’d stood outside the fence numerous times with his hand in Mother’s, watching the other children splash to their heart’s content until an adult chased them out with a paddle. He wanted to join them someday. 

Then he recalled that he’d never been taught to swim. He’d seen parents toss infants into the pool and let them figure it out for themselves, but Father never did that as far as he knew. And Mother always claimed the pools were full of evil spirits lying in the depths, dragging an unsuspecting child to the bottom when the time was right. 

However, the book claimed that a child would sink because their density was greater than water. 

Was there such a thing as density ghosts? 

Footsteps thundered from the stairwell, and Heinz almost lost his grip on the tiny flashlight. He quickly shut it off and shoved the book under his pillow, assuming what he hoped was a convincing sleep position. 

It was definitely Father. His boots were heavier against the old floorboards. Heinz frowned. Father never ventured upstairs to where Heinz and Roger’s rooms were. Putting Roger to sleep was Mother’s job. 

His curiosity got the better of him, so he crept up the door and pushed his ear against it. 

“Everyone knows the boy has never been in the pool before. He’ll learn to be a tougher man after this.” 

“Nicht Mann.” 

“Roger, you will be a man, ja?” Mother cooed. Roger only babbled in response. 

Heinz listened to the footsteps until the door to his parents’ room shut with a loud creak. He crawled underneath the thin blanket, curling into a ball to conserve heat. 

Showing no fear was the manly thing to do. 

Mother left Roger with a neighbor. She said the noise would bother his sensitive ears. She wore a brown cloak, with a hood that could easily hide her eyes from the shame she’d have to endure if Heinz failed. 

More like when Heinz failed. 

His heart skipped a beat as he picked his way through the crowd who’d come to witness his rite of passage. The men leered at him, one of them even tossing a few coins onto a betting table. 

Father angrily pointed to the high diving board, which seemed to stretch far above the clouds. The ladder was slick and wet. He could easily lose his balance climbing to the top. 

Or maybe that was just his fear talking. 

Heinz shivered. He had to get out of there. But everyone was watching. Waiting to see what he’d do. If he backed out now, he would forever be the only boy who was too afraid to take the plunge into manhood. 

“ARE YOU A MAN OR A SCHNITZEL?” Father roared. 

His scream spurred Heinz’s limbs into action. 

“I’m a man. I’m a man….” he whimpered, scrambling up the ladder and onto the diving board. 

Men didn’t show fear. They hunted dangerous creatures in the woods. They held contests to prove which one was the strongest. The most fearless man won the admiration of the entire village. 

But he couldn’t move his arms, which were tightly gripped around the board. The board was the only thing between him and the water. It was the only thing that kept up an illusion of safety. 

“Das Kind ist ein Schnitzel!” One of the men guffawed, loud enough for Heinz to hear. 

“Schnitzel! Schnitzel! Schnitzel!” the crowd chanted, adding a chorus of raucous boos and exaggerated sobbing. 

Heinz looked over to Mother and Father, who only glanced back with that familiar stare of disappointment and disgust. Then they turned to leave. 

“Hey!” Heinz shouted, hoping his voice would carry. “Hey, wait for me!” 

He stood up, the board wobbling under his feet. 

They couldn’t leave! He was about to jump! He could do it! It was okay, they would tell him everything was okay once he climbed out of the pool safe and sound. 

He would be seen as a man, and nobody would laugh at him again! 

The weight beneath his feet vanished. He could see Mother’s nose poking out of her hood, her lips pursed sternly. Father’s unkempt beard beneath the paper bag he wore. Roger’s high-pitched squeals as people fawned over such a beautiful, healthy baby. 

If fish could breathe underwater, he could too! He was a man, so that meant he was invincible! The dark, murky water slid down his throat, and his chest burned like it had been branded with fire. Which was weird, cause fire wouldn’t be in a swimming pool. 

Men could endure pain, no matter how big or small. 

The surface was to his left. He just had to break through it. But his legs wouldn’t budge. When he blinked, the water stung his eyes and the surface was on his right. Or was that up? 

Now it was slanted. 

He saw a black, shapeless hand reach for him. Heinz tried to grab it, yet his hand wouldn’t obey. Then it stretched out, caressing his body in a cold embrace. 

It was oddly comforting, so he didn’t fight. The darkness overtook his vision, putting his mind at ease. 

And his chest didn’t burn anymore. 

Chapter Text

Someone loudly rapped on the door, each sharp knock causing Heinz to flinch. Mother paused her soothing lullaby to Roger, hurrying downstairs as she gently shushed him. 

“Who’s at the door, Mother?” Heinz asked as she passed by him. 

She looked over her shoulder briefly, her mouth open in surprise. But she dismissed it with a shrug, balancing Roger with her body as she opened the door. 

Heinz giggled at the oddly-dressed elderly woman with so much jewelry hanging off her arms that he thought her limbs would fall off from the sheer weight. She was stooped over like a bird, and only her eyes peeked out from a dark red veil. 

“Soothsayer Maria,” Mother greeted. “Would you mind having a look around?” 

The old soothsayer rolled her eyes impatiently. “That’s what you called me for, is it not? Now, stand aside and let me work.” 

Mother nodded, slightly taken aback by her rudeness. “I need to put Roger down for a nap. I’ll be back.”

Heinz gasped in shock as Maria suddenly yanked Mother’s arms downward to get a better look at Roger. She murmured gibberish under her breath, sprinkling Roger with a yellow powder from a small pouch around her waist. “Extract of milkweed,” she said. “The smell is undetectable for people, but it’s extremely foul for evil spirits. They won’t get your precious boy now. You may put him to sleep.” 

Maria waved her hand dismissively, and Mother composed herself as she headed upstairs.

“What do you think it smells like?” Heinz asked as Maria uprooted the couch cushions. “Is it like a skunk where you need to take a bath in tomato juice after you get sprayed? What if it smells like Kenny’s shoes? Cause Dieter passed out once he got a whiff of that stuff, and it was pretty funny!”

“Ah yes, there are echoes off the walls,” Maria whispered. “A past buried and hidden, but it lives on. The truth always finds a way to come out. And when we reach that day, peace will be achieved.” 

As she sprinkled Doonkleberry juice over several cracks in the wall, Mother rushed into the living room. “Roger is asleep. Did you find anything?” 

Maria nodded sagely. “The foundation is unstable.” 

“Well, Hans didn’t buy this plot from the most reputable merchant-” 

“When one only thinks of physical needs, everyone suffers,” Maria said, her eyes narrowing behind the veil.

This woman made no sense. Mother hired her to ward off evil spirits, not spout confusing riddles! Heinz didn’t like her at all. 

“Now, the foxglove flowers will block a poltergeist’s sight. Keep these away from the baby, dearie. They’re poisonous,” Maria continued, placing several bottles of various objects on a broken table. “A feather from the tail of a dominant rooster will ensure that the poltergeist cannot hear you speaking ill of him. And lastly, a wad of mice tails so that he may not harm you. I believe this should suffice.” 

“Yes, it will,” Mother said, holding a hand to her chest in relief. “I’ll tell Hans when he comes back.” 

Maria’s jewelry rattled as she drew an envelope out from the folds of her dress. “My payment. Some of my materials aren’t easy to procure, you know.” 

“Yes, I understand,” Mother said. “Wait here. We made sure to save a few coins after...you know.” She opened a cabinet, digging around the various trophies Only Son had won for the money. 

“Denial can be a powerful thing,” Maria mused. “Avoid it at all costs.” 

Heinz froze, realizing that she was staring straight at him. Just his luck that the creepy lady was the only one who actually paid attention to him.  Since he didn’t want to stick around anymore, Heinz decided to see what Father was up to.

Father wasn’t at the tavern. Which was odd. He always went out with a few neighbors at this time. It was surprising that he managed to escape the notice of the large man who stood guard at the entrance since he always yelled at kids who got too close. He was tempted to make some noise to draw the man’s attention.

Then he heard a commotion at the edge of the village. Father barked orders to two other men, who carried a lumpy bundle completely swaddled in plain black cloth. Only Son trotted proudly between their heels, occasionally snapping at their exposed skin. 

Curious, Heinz followed them. He remained hidden from sight, so he didn’t provoke Father. 

Several onlookers watched the group make their way to the edge of the forest, where all sorts of creatures who wanted to prey on humanity dwelled. They whispered and turned away, refusing to get involved. 

The bundle was dropped at the base of a large, gnarled tree. Father removed the cloth, tossing it at one of the men who carried it there. Then he marched off, snapping his fingers at Only Son to follow. 

But Only Son paused, stopping to scent the air. Then his hackles rose, a growl erupting from his throat. 

Heinz ducked as Only Son lunged straight towards him, his jaws snapping together. He covered his face with his hands. Then Only Son suddenly yelped. When he peeked between his fingers, he saw Father dragging him back by the collar, swearing profusely at his sudden disobedience. Only Son whined and growled, but received a curt blow to his muzzle. 

Heinz watched them disappear over the hill, waiting for the other men to leave before he approached the bundle. 

Except it wasn’t a bundle of objects like he first thought. 

It was a child’s body. 

A stiff, lifeless body. 

It was dressed in a tattered, black robe that swallowed its entire body. Its curled fingers reached for something that wasn’t there, its face buried in the dirt shamefully. 

His heart pounded out of his chest, and his brain told him not to look. But his curiosity overtook him. 

Heinz needed to know who this child was. He crouched next to the head so he could get a better look at his face. 

Then a chorus of purrs sounded from the tangled underbrush, and several ocelots surrounded the body. Mama and Papa Ocelot, the two wildcats who’d taken him in after he’d been disowned, were among them. Their heads were down, their ears flattened as they gently shook the body in the vain hopes of waking it up. 

When it didn’t stir, Papa Ocelot threw his head back and bellowed to the sky. Mama Ocelot brushed against him, her tail intertwining with his own. 

The other ocelots had turned the body over, gently pulling it deeper into the woods. 

There was no mistaking that mop of brown hair and the beak-like nose.

It was him. 

The ocelots were dragging his corpse into the forest. 

Heinz desperately tried to rack his memory. He remembered being a lawn gnome on the cold, lonely nights. He remembered the warmth of the ocelot’s fur. He remembered everyone mocking him for not being a man. 

He heard them scold in harsh voices. He saw them maintain a stony silence when he failed to meet their expectations. 

But he didn’t remember dying. 

As an experiment, he tried to touch Mama Ocelot’s fur. But his fingers passed through her, dissipating like mist when they contacted her body. When he withdrew, his fingers reformed.

Mama Ocelot lowered her head, a mournful purr coming from her chest. Her tongue swiped the air several times. 

She was trying to lick him, he realized. 

Papa Ocelot managed to stand at long last. He padded after the others. Mama Ocelot flicked her head, gesturing that he should follow. 

Heinz obeyed. Mama Ocelot trod at a pace that was easy for Heinz to keep up with. The roots didn’t trip him, nor did his feet hurt even though they were walking on rough ground. 

The ocelots gently placed the body (his body) in a small, freshly dug hole next to a flowing stream. Papa Ocelot dropped something into the grave, then stepped back and allowed the others to kick dirt over the hole. 

When Heinz opened his hand, an ocelot’s curved claw laid in his palm.  

Chapter Text

Roger babbled, clapping his hands in delight when Heinz levitated his toy blocks in a circle. With a flick of his finger, Heinz could yank the block away from Roger and cause him to go crawling after it. He discovered the power on accident when he dropped a wooden spoon on Only Son’s head. 

While the other occupants were asleep, he practiced levitating small objects. It was a good way to chase off the boredom since he couldn’t interact with anyone. Of course, he still spent half of the night on lawn gnome duty. He floated instead of standing in front of his usual perch, which surprisingly didn’t cause Father to scream “Beweg dich nicht!”. 

Heinz zipped between the crumbling walls of the house, popping out in different places to keep Roger on his toes.

He could move freely as a spirit, unrestricted by the laws of reality.

Kickball was a lot easier when he didn’t have to use his legs. He could stop and start the ball with just a little concentration. But Roger wasn’t making it so easy for him since he kept trying to tug the ball away. 

“I need to practice throwing!” Roger complained when Heinz levitated the ball just above his reach. 

Heinz stuck his tongue out at him. “C’mon! You’re the star player! You can figure something out!” 

Roger gasped and pointed at something behind Heinz. “Look, it’s Mother with a basketful of doonkleberries!” 

“Where?” Heinz exclaimed, his concentration wavering just enough for Roger to nab the ball from him. Heinz scowled as Roger threw the ball to the empty brown sack that served as a base. “That’s cheating!” 

“All’s fair in kickball,” Roger smiled innocently. Heinz sighed, knowing perfectly well that Roger could get away with just about anything in a game. The coaches and umpires were absolutely terrified of Mother. 

There was nobody screaming at him, nobody blaming him for something that wasn’t his fault. It was just him and Roger without a care in the world. 

Mother appeared more nervous lately. She and Father had been having loud shouting matches that occasionally went past midnight. Heinz and Roger remained upstairs while their quarrels went on, knowing how unpredictable Father could be when he was angry.

“Get off your lazy ass, you schwein! We need that money to keep the evil spirit away from us!” 

Father’s heated retort was drowned out by the howling wind. 

“Evil spirit?” Roger asked quietly. “Is that why Mother keeps sprinkling that weird juice over my bed? Cause it stinks.” 

While Heinz couldn’t agree because he was unable to smell things as a ghost, he hadn’t minded letting Roger use the bed in his room so he could avoid the stench. Heinz didn’t need to sleep anymore. 

At least, until Father hired people to wall off Heinz’s bedroom from the rest of the house. Now the entrance was completely sealed and the window was covered up by several red bricks, the only splash of color in the dark room. While this didn’t prevent Heinz from entering to lament the loss of his few possessions, there was nothing they could do to allow Roger access. 

“Just go to sleep already,” Heinz rolled his eyes. “I’ll wake you up if I see an evil spirit.” 

Roger wrinkled his nose and pulled the blanket over himself. Minutes later, he was out like a light. 

Heinz levitated a shoe in Roger’s closet, just so he could focus on something that wasn’t the argument. 

Roger had been eating a cookie at the table when Father slammed his hands down on the rough wooden surface. Heinz and Roger both jumped at the sudden noise, which stirred Only Son into a barking frenzy. 

“WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?” he thundered. 

Roger flinched, dropping half of his cookie on the ground. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Not even Roger could find the right words to appease Father when he was this furious. 

“ANSWER ME, JUNGE!” 

“Hans, that’s enough!” Mother snapped, quickly placing herself between Roger and Father. “I’ll take it from here. Just leave!” 

Father spat on the floor in defiance and slammed the door on his way out, shaking the entire house. Only Son slunk off to his bed in defeat. 

“That man,” Mother muttered, snatching a pan from the cupboard in frustration. She set it on the stove and turned a dial, watching the flame spring to life disinterestedly. 

“Mother, what’s going on?” Roger asked. “Are you and Father afraid of evil spirits?” 

Mother didn’t turn around. Heinz frowned. She never missed an opportunity to be affectionate with Roger. 

“I sent your father-” she stressed the word angrily, her hand tightening around a wooden spoon. “-out so we could talk. Neighbors have been asking us questions about you. Don’t worry, they all know how talented and clever you are. But they said you sometimes talked to thin air. You’re not in trouble, my little doonkleberry. I’d just like to hear it from you.” 

Roger mulled over his response carefully, his tone controlled so that he was speaking too fast or too slow. “I was repeating my studies out loud. It helps me concentrate.” 

“The practice field is a strange place to study,” Mother mused as she chopped a small head of lettuce. “But if it works for you, then I can’t stop it.” 

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Heinz was surprised that Roger had lied straight to Mother’s face. Honesty was a trait that the adults loved about Roger. But it was obvious Roger didn’t feel good about his fib, judging from the way he scratched his arms. 

“I just want the best for you,” Mother sighed. “So you must always be careful. Evil spirits won’t tell you they’re evil spirits. They’ll be nice, maybe play a few games with you. They’ll whisper in your ear and say flattering things. But their true nature will come out.  You must not ever fall for those tricks.” 

Roger stood up and hugged Mother’s leg. “Don’t worry, Mother,” he said softly. “Thank you for protecting me.”

He glanced at Heinz warily. Heinz scoffed and turned away. He didn’t need to see them hugging. 

Roger barely spoke to him at all now. When Heinz did manage to drag a response out of him, it was often short and hurried. 

“Not now. I’m studying.” 

“I need to buy potatoes for Mother. We’ll talk later.”

“Only Son needs his food so he can hunt. I don’t have time.” 

It was one excuse after another. Even when Roger was alone in his bedroom, he always had something to do that prevented him from talking to Heinz. 

Now he’d resorted to telekinetically dipping strips of scrap paper in a bucket of water that was supposed to catch raindrops since they hadn’t gotten around to fixing the leaky roof yet. It was the next best thing to spit wads, though Heinz decided to call them water wads since he wasn’t using his spit. 

The wet strip balled up, and Heinz flicked it at a sleeping Roger. “This is for ignoring me,” Heinz said. But Roger didn’t stir. 

Right. 

He was a heavy sleeper. 

Heinz decided to create an enormous ball of wet paper and dump it on his head. That would show him! 

He took every piece of paper he could find in the room and got to work. His mind screamed at him to stop, that he was burning through whatever ghostly energy he had, but he didn’t care. This would serve Roger right for not talking to him! 

The next morning, Roger woke up with a startled gasp. He gingerly picked up his blanket and examined the wetness, his eyes widening as he flung back the covers and checked the bedding. Heinz couldn’t stifle his laughter anymore as Roger finally noticed that his hair was also damp, and the huge paper ball that was still dripping water in a corner. 

“Why did you do that?” Roger yelled. “What if Father comes up here and sees this?” 

Heinz rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t come up here! Mother’ll hide it from him if you just show her. At least you won’t be scolded. Besides, you’re the one who hasn’t talked to me for the past week!” 

“Because Mother said I shouldn’t!” Roger snapped. “You’re nothing but an evil spirit. I’m not talking to you ever again after this!” 

Heinz scowled at him. “Throwing wet paper balls doesn’t mean I’m an evil spirit!”

Roger stormed out of his room, not even bothering to argue his case. 

“Fine!” Heinz screamed. “You want an evil spirit? I’ll give you an evil spirit! Once I figure out how this evil spirit thing works!” 

If being an evil spirit was what it took to be noticed, then he needed to start acting like it. 

Chapter Text

Roger didn’t speak to Heinz anymore. Over time, Roger shot up in height. Soon he towered over all the other boys in the village. Mother fussed over his handsome looks, proudly bragging about him to anyone who’d listen. There was no shortage of girls tailing him from a distance. They practically worshiped the ground he trod on. 

It was kind of gross. 

To fill in the time, Heinz practiced levitating heavier objects. He’d managed to lift the cabinet full of gifts and family heirlooms a foot off the ground. And only felt slightly bad about destroying the vase that had been on Mother’s side for five generations. 

He also noticed that people shivered uncontrollably when he floated close to them. Mother and Father had taken to wearing heavy shawls and thick coats, even in the middle of the summer heat. 

Rumors cropped up all over the village about the Doofenshmirtz family and their strange habits. Some said they were vampires who immigrated from Transylvania, seeking fresh blood following a famine in their homeland. Others declared they were servants of a mysterious creature in the forest, posing as humans in order to lull the village into a false sense of security before slaughtering their livestock under the darkness of the new moon. 

Even Roger wasn’t immune to the gossip and stares. However, most people continued to be charmed by his handsome face and compelling voice. 

They always referred to Heinz as an evil spirit. Never by name. Just an evil spirit to be lumped in with a multitude of other evil spirits. 

And he was fine with that. 

The laughter Heinz and Roger once had was nothing more than a distant memory. The plump kid who once enjoyed kickball and doonkleberry cookies had long been replaced by a broad-shouldered young adult. He spoke eloquently, with emphasized ‘t’s and a strange inflection at the end of his sentences. 

The language of Drusselstein was harsh and curt and rude. It was nothing like the melodious river of syllables that flowed out of Roger’s mouth. 

Roger had been practicing a bunch of funny phrases in front of the mirror lately. Heinz felt like he would burst if he had to hear stuff like ‘economic budget’ and ‘it is my pleasure to welcome the French ambassador’ again. He’d given up on making funny faces behind Roger while he did that. 

Annoying his targets wasn’t nearly as much fun when they didn’t react. 

Heinz didn’t see what was so appealing about America. What was wrong with the village? There were gardens to protect here! Father wasn’t so keen on the idea either. He and Mother had shouted nonstop at each other ever since Roger had announced a desire to study political science at Danville University. They practically had to wade through the enormous pile of acceptance letters that Roger collected like candy. 

“Roger is offering to set us up in a nice apartment,” Mother argued. “He’s being generous with that fortune Great Uncle Frederick left him. I have no idea where he got his charity from, because it did not come from your side.” 

Father huffed. 

“Well, I could use a change from this cheap plot,” Mother said as she plopped a bowl of bran mash in front of him. Then she sprinkled a red powder over the kitchen counter, muttering something in a language Heinz didn’t understand. “The evil spirits won’t reach my precious boy there.” 

Heinz would just have to do spooky evil spirit stuff in America then. It couldn’t possibly be that different from Drusselstein. 

Turned out America was completely different than Drusselstein. Heinz had never seen so many colors in his life, much less an enormous city. Blazing neon green lights hung off shops that had a strange assortment of scarf-wearing teenagers. The sky changed from blue to orange-pink to black, and healthy grass lined the paved streets. 

Father didn’t know what he was missing when he stayed behind.

People exchanged friendly pleasantries on the streets, even if they were complete strangers. 

He spent a lot of time observing people when he wasn’t following Roger around the college campus. His classes were boring and dry, just some stuffy old man at the front droning on about the ‘bigger picture’, whatever that meant. 

It was more fun to pick a target and tie their shoelaces together when they weren’t looking, drop acorns on kissing couples, and make people drop their heavy, expensive textbooks to the floor. 

There were ups and downs to life (could he even call it that?) in America, but he was starting to enjoy it. Mother seemed happier too. She’d made friends with several women and they spent a lot of their time walking around the apartment complex with clipboards. Yesterday she’d gone up to Mr. Harrison’s door and told him off because his roses were a fourth of an inch past regulations. 

Yeah, he didn’t really get how she noticed that without measuring it first. 

But the thing he hated most was how the toddlers always ran to their moms when they got scraped from a fall. 

He hated how the toddlers tugged at their mothers’ skirts. 

He hated how the mother would bend down, giving them a hug and kiss on the insignificant cut. Then they’d reach into their purse and pull out a cheesy band-aid with rainbows and dinosaurs. 

He hated how the toddlers would dry their tears and smile back, then run back to the slide or jungle gym and the process would repeat all over again. 

Heinz could never explain the hollowness he felt when he saw those moments. 

The banquet celebrating Roger’s graduation from Danville University was a boisterous affair. As the head of the Alpha Delta Epsilon fraternity, the star player of the Danville University Dolphins tennis team, and the valedictorian of his graduating class, Roger had amassed so many connections and admirers that the Danville Convention Center had included valet parking for guests. 

Heinz sent another set of keys flying, giggling as the valet guys screamed and scrambled after it. 

“Why, with your charming personality, I bet you could even convince the entire Tri-State Area to break off the rest of America and form its own country!” Mr. Aquino roared, clapping Roger on the back as he addressed the adoring crowd. 

“Thank you, Mr. Aquino. But I would like to allow my constituents the final say on such an important matter,” Roger said politely. He waved to a young woman in a crimson dress, who bounced on her heels like a puppy as Roger smiled pleasantly at her. “Valerie, you look marvelous tonight.” 

Valerie squealed, and her friends suppressed their laughter behind her back. Heinz stuck his tongue out at them. Girls were weird. They all squealed like baby Goozims when Roger was nearby. 

“I can’t tell you how proud I am of you,” Mother beamed brightly at Roger. He’d pulled some strings with the rich kids he’d befriended to give her a rather expensive black dress. She even had a necklace imported from some famous diamond mine. 

Heinz covered his eyes and groaned when Mother embraced Roger. Cameras flashed and girls placed their hands over their hearts at such a cute scene. Somehow that managed to be grosser than the girls fawning over him. 

“Please, Mrs. Doofenshmirtz. There’ll be plenty of time for bragging later,” Mr. Aquino laughed as he extracted Roger from her embrace. “Will everyone please make their way to the banquet hall? I believe Roger has a lot of things to say.” 

He elbowed Roger in the ribs playfully as they headed to the stage area. Heinz followed them, glad that he didn’t have to hang around a large crowd anymore. “Especially to a certain someone,” Mr. Aquino winked knowingly. 

Roger patted his coat pocket. “You’ll make me blush,” he laughed. 

While Roger was busy with last-minute preparations, Heinz flitted around the banquet hall to look for anything he could use to disrupt the celebration. He noticed that a lot of women were carrying purses around. There was sure to be something in those! 

Then he spotted an open purse on a chair, its owner obliviously chatting with a group of people nearby. It was ripe for the picking. Heinz zipped between the various cliques, his eyes set on his target. 

But a shrill screech caused Heinz to lose focus, and he mentally kicked himself for not paying attention. He must’ve flown straight through Mother in his haste. 

She shivered wildly, her teeth chattering as if she were trapped in a blizzard. It didn’t take long for the other women to notice. They led her to a table directly in front of the stage, helping her sit down and checking to make sure she was comfortable. 

Someone even lent her a shawl to wrap around her shoulders. 

“Are you alright, Mrs. Doofenshmirtz?” someone asked. 

“They’re following us,” Mother said quietly. “I don’t-no, impossible. Yes, yes I’ll be alright. This is Roger’s night. Don’t worry about an old woman like me. Thank you. It’s a lovely shawl.” 

Her helpers backed off, but still looked uncertain. 

Before anyone could question her further, a light clinking sound came from the stage. Everyone took their seats immediately, and Heinz used the opportunity to steal a zipped flowery bag from the open purse. 

Mr. Aquino tapped a glass with a small spoon several times before setting it on the podium in front of him. Roger sat on a chair nearby, next to two older men in tuxedos. He was perfectly poised on the chair, his back not touching the cushion and his hands folded neatly in his lap. 

Out of curiosity, Heinz tried to mimic his position, but gave up within a few seconds. It just seemed more natural to cross his legs. 

“May I have your attention please?” Mr. Aquino called. The entire hall fell silent, gazing at the stage expectantly. “Hello. My name is Manuel Aquino, and some of you may know me as your local district representative.” 

He paused to allow the audience to applaud before continuing. 

“We’re here to honor one incredibly accomplished individual tonight. One whose stunning intellect, brilliant wit, and undeniable charm has captured the hearts of many in Danville University,” he said, winking towards a table full of female graduates. “Perhaps you don’t even know how much you’re charmed by him.” 

Instead of listening to the rest of the speech, Heinz levitated the bag’s contents onto the steel beam next to him. It was mostly makeup with names he couldn’t pronounce, but it was more interesting than the ceremony below. 

Why did they need to take so long to say thank you? Just say it and move on! Heinz played with the makeup as another guy in a tuxedo droned on, smearing red streaks all over the steel beams. 

As he worked on a large, goofy mustache to his Roger drawing, the audience clapped and whistled loudly as Roger finally took center stage. Curious, Heinz set the brush down. Like everyone else, he also wanted to know what Roger had to say for himself. 

“Tonight will be a night to remember,” Roger announced. “Though we’ve graduated, our learning will never stop. Danville U has instituted a winning spirit and a can-do attitude onto each of us, so we must pass that onto the next generation to the best of our ability. When one moves into the next stage of life, one must ask themselves ‘What are we going to do?’ Some of you may have figured out the answer. Some of you are still searching. Both options are equally valid. But I suppose you’re also wondering what I want to accomplish.” 

The audience nodded earnestly, hanging onto his every word. 

“And I would like to thank Mr. Aquino here for mentoring me,” Roger said, with a polite nod towards the man. You see, he was rather charmed by the story of a fellow immigrant to this golden land of opportunity. We were both raised in poverty by hard-working parents, you see. Then as young adults, we found Danville, a city with such a colorful and vibrant culture. My dream is to give back to this lovely community, to allow everyone to flourish, to improve all aspects of education for our children, and their children as well. Mr. Aquino has generously offered me a staff position in his political office, which I’ve accepted. This will serve as my stepping stone so I may learn the issues each of you face, and I hope to be trustworthy in your eyes when you next see my name in the local newspaper.” 

Heinz was starting to understand why Roger wanted to start his career in America. The Gimmelshtump elders would never have allowed a kid to upstage them when it came to decision-making. 

Roger poured a glass of wine, holding it high in the air. “Before the appetizers are brought out, I would like to propose a toast in honor of Mr. Aquino. Let us drink to his good health and his successful career!” 

“For Mr. Aquino!” the audience cheered.

“A toast in honor of my mother, Olga Doofenshmirtz,” Roger continued. “Without her loving support and careful guidance, I would not be the man I am today.” 

Mother smiled and nodded. Several women whispered their congratulations to her. 

“And lastly, an acknowledgment to a person in this room that I would like to make myself. Everyone, please set your cups down.” 

What did that mean? Heinz circled above the stage, wondering what Roger was talking about. Why couldn’t he just say it on the stage like everything else? 

His fists clenched. And Roger didn’t even mention him! Heinz played with him, he kept watch for monsters, he even comforted Roger! And after all these years, Roger never mentioned him to anyone! If he could thank Mother, he could thank Heinz too! 

Heinz focused intently on what looked like a fluffy pom-pom, making sure that every centimeter of it was coated in a fine powder from a nearby case. Then he held up his hand, waiting for the right moment to send it hurtling down towards Roger. 

“Charlene, I was privileged to have met you three years ago in a debate match. You were kind yet bold, not afraid to challenge anyone in a verbal spar. Now I only have one thing to ask,” Roger said. He knelt down, opening a small box which contained a golden ring. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Charlene smiled graciously, allowing Roger to slide the ring on her finger.  “Yes, yes I would,” she replied as she leaned in for a kiss. Roger’s fingers cupped her short, black hair as he kissed her back. 

Heinz stuck his tongue out at the gross kissing, forgetting that he was still levitating the pom-pom. 

Somebody shrieked below him, and Heinz quickly ducked behind a thick pole. before remembering that nobody could see him. 

Mr. Aquino was trying to rub the powder out of his hair, but it just smeared all over his hands. Heinz laughed at the ridiculous sight. 

Some people stared at Mr. Aquino, and others glanced nervously at the ceiling as if expecting more makeup powder to rain down upon them. Mother’s finger shook as she pointed at the politician. “You must sprinkle poppy seeds on your pillow tonight to ward off the evil spirits!” she shouted. 

He blinked at her. “Of course, ma’am. If the rest of you will excuse me, I’ll clean up in the restroom. Be back momentarily!” 

“Ah, good ol’ Aquino,” Roger chuckled. “Nothing ever keeps that man down.” 

Charlene took her seat next to Roger, smoothing out her dress. “It’s still a little strange though. Maybe a prankster hung powder from the rafters before we got here.” 

Heinz liked her already. Sure, she didn’t know him by name, but her guess was close enough. 

“Well, what are we waiting for? Bon appetit, everybody!” Roger called as the workers began passing out baskets of bread and cheese. 

The room filled with the sound of chatter and dinnerware clattering against the tables, and the incident was quickly forgotten.