Chapter Text
“Ma, I already told you,” Alastor talked into the rotary phone. “I don’t want to get married.”
“Well, then who am I gonna get grandchildren from?” His ma exclaimed. “Certainly not Rosie, with the way she’s going through those men.”
“Ma.” He groaned. “Rosie isn’t even your child.”
“I raised her, didn’t I? Anyway, remember to bring someone to the family gathering in 3 weeks, even if you aren’t dating them. But you can’t bring Mimzy like last year and the year before that. Unless you guys are dating, but we don’t want the family to get the wrong idea.”
“Okay ma,” He signed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Love you, bye,”
“Love you.” He hung up, placing the phone back on its holder. He got back up, grabbed his keys, and walked out of the house. He was meeting Mimzy at a speakeasy tonight—her new speakeasy, to be exact. When he got there, Mimzy immediately hugged him, her strong, rosy perfume assaulting his nose, like it always did.
“Alastor!” She squealed, squeezing him so tight, he thought his ribs would break.
“Mimzy!” He slightly wheezed.
“So glad you could make it!” She unlocked her arms from around him.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world darling!” He exclaimed as he unruffled his red scarf and coat. “Opening a speakeasy is no easy feat! Ha ha ha.”
“Alastor you jokester!” she laughed. Her expression turned soft for just a moment. “Really Al, thank you.”
“Of course Mimzy.” He said. “Now, let’s get a drink.”
They walked over to the bar, getting away from the noisy crowd, and closer to the live jazz music. and asked the bartender for some whiskey.
“Here you go,” the bartender’s gruff voice said as he gave them some glasses.
“Thank you, my good man!” Alastor exclaimed. “And leave the bottle. We’ll pour it ourselves.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He left the bottle anyway.
After they’d had a few drinks, Mimzy asked “So, what kind of gal you lookin’ for?”
“Mimzy!” He groaned.
“I’m just askin’! Don’t get so defensive!” She took a sip of her drink. “Indulge me a little! Come on! Your 34! You got to have someone you got your eyes on!”
“Fine,” At least it was a quick answer and they could get back to not talking about his dating life (or lack thereof). “I don’t know.”
“Alastor! You gotta give me something! Do you want her to be tall, or short, like an opposites attract sort of thing?”
“I don’t know!”
“Alastor, sweetie, just describe someone you find attractive. It’s not that hard!”
It is for me. He thought. Always has been, and always will be.
“Just say it?” He asked.
“Yeah!”
He started to think, shifting through his memories, trying to remember anyone he thought was attractive. He’d never paid any attention to others' bodies; they mostly grossed him out. Slowly, after shifting through years of memories, he started to remember someone. In this memory, he was very young, 6 or 7, playing around with someone. He remembered thinking that this person was very pretty when he was younger. They were climbing a tree.
“Come on Al!” A voice giggled above him. “I’m higher than you!”
“Not for much longer!” Young Alastor yelled. He looked up and saw a young child on a branch above him. She had shoulder-length blonde hair, tangled and messy. She was covered in dirt and grime. She was giggling to herself. Or maybe at him. He couldn't tell.
“Dinner!” His ma called
“OOOOOO!” Young Alastor exclaimed, rapidly climbing down the tree. “Come on Sammy! Ma’s making gumbo!”
“GUMBO!” Sammy yelled, also climbing down the tree.
They raced each other back to Alastor’s small home.
“Okay,” He tried to imagine them looking a bit older. He couldn’t picture it very well. Every time he tried to think of her. He didn’t really like the images he conjured up. So he decided to describe her personality. Or, what he could remember about her. “She would have to be playful, and love my mother’s cooking,”
“Hi, Mrs. Heartfelt! Is it okay if I stay for dinner?” Sammy asked
“Of course Sammy!” Ma exclaimed. “So polite, but go wash your hands and face before dinner. You too Alastor.”
“My ma has to love her,”
“Of course ma!” He ran to clean his hands and face in the one bathroom they had. Sammy was already there.
“Hey, Alastor!” She smiled at him, then started to scrub her face with a wet towel.
“Move Sammy! ma wants my hands clean too!” Alastor splashed Sammy with water,
“Ack! Noooooo, Alastor! I need to see the mirror. Father says I always have to look proper, even though we are losing our money! He says I can’t look like I live in the stables, even though I think that would be really cool!” She started to go back onto the stool to check her reflection.
“Sammy! No shoving!” Alastor exclaimed.
“I would get to be at the duckie pond allllll the time if I lived in the stables!”
They returned to the dinner table and sat down, as Ma served them each a bowl of gumbo.
“You know Allie,” Sammy whispered to Alastor while his ma did the dishes. “When I grow up, I will do what I want! No more ‘Sameul stand up straighter!’ or ‘No you can’t play with the boy across the street, you have school to do!’. I will be free to make my own choices!”
“Cooool.”
“She has to have her own opinions, even if it isn’t what other people like,”
“Sammy, your father is here to pick you up!” Ma said.
Sammy’s father walked into the room and Sammy immediately sat up straighter, a look of discomfort on his face. “Samuel! Come now, let’s go home.”
“Okay, father.” Sammy got up from the table and put his dishes in the sink. Then he walked over to his father. Before he left, he said, “Thank you, Mrs. Heartfelt! Bye!! See you soon!” He waved as he walked out the door.
Right before the memory ended, he approached his mother and whispered, “Ma, I think Sammy is very pretty.”
“He is a handsome boy, isn’t he darling?”
CRACK!
“Alastor! Are you okay?!” Mimzy yelped
“I’ve had too much to drink dear Mimzy.” He faltered, putting the cracked glass on the bar. “I think I must retire for the night.”
“Oh…” Mimzy cautioned. “W-well before you go, can you pick something up at a store tomorrow? It’s my nephew’s birthday on Sunday and I ordered him something from Wonderworks toy shop, but I can’t pick it up when it’s ready. Can you do it for me?”
“Of course my dear!” He stated. “When do you need it picked up?”
“Saturday evening.”
“I can pick it up after my afternoon broadcast!”
“Thank you, Alastor! I don’t know what I would do without you!” She hugged him fiercely. “Do you need directions?”
“No.” Everyone knows Wonderworks. It’s the best toy store in New Orleans.
Mimzy nodded as she walked Alastor out the door. “Alright, get home safe, Al. Good night.”
“Night,” He waved as he started to walk home.
He hadn’t had as much to drink as he may have let Mimzy believe, but he still wobbled every few steps. He hurried home, not wanting to be stopped by cops.
His mind was reeling from the memories that were flooding his brain.
“Race you home!” squealed an 8-year-old Sammy
“You’re on!” Laughed a 7-year-old Alastor, racing after him.
“Ma?” He asked, tugging at his mother’s dress one day. He was younger in this, most likely 5 or just turned 6. “Who is that?”
“That’s our new neighbor. They just moved in next door.” She looked down at him.
“Can I go talk to him?” he asked.
“Sure, but be careful, okay, cher?” she let go of his hand as he timidly approached the boy.
The boy looked over at him from his sidewalk chalk drawing. :
”Hi!” He said cheerfully. “I’m Samuel! But you can call me Sam or Sammy!” He stood up and started chattering rapidly. “What’s your name? Are you our new neighbor? Do you like ducks? I love ducks! Father says that ducks are just stupid animals, but I think they are sooooooo cute!!”
He blinked. Once, twice. Oh, he had stopped. “Oh. My name is Alastor. Yes, I am your new neighbor. And what was that last question?”
“Do you like ducks? Cause I do! I love them! They are the cutest thing I have ever seen!” He gibbered.
“I guess ducks are cute…” Alastor shrugged.
“Do you want to draw sidewalk chalk with me?” He offered Alastor a piece of chalk. “I’m going to keep working on my duckie pond, but you can draw anything you want to!”
Alastor took the piece with a “Thank you,” and started to silently draw. The other boy wasn’t quiet at all. Sammy chattered the whole time. Alastor didn’t mind it; in fact, he enjoyed it.
“Are you still going to lie in New Orleans when you grow up?” Sammy was now 10 or 11, hanging upside-down from a tree branch while Alastor read a book for school. They had just gotten out of church so they looked fancier than normal.
“Of course! I love it here! And what isn't there to love? It’s got amazing food, my ma, music, great traditions, you-” He trailed off, not knowing what else to add to the list. “Plus if I want to become the best radio host in New Orleans, I kind of have to stay in New Orleans.”
“You and your radio broadcasts.” He rolled his eyes playfully and giggled. He sat up on the tree branch and climbed down to sit next to Alastor, their shoulders brushing as he sat down. Alastor didn't mind the contact like he did with most other people.
“What about you?” he asked, turning his head to look at Sammy, his once combed-back now disheveled, light blonde hair shining like a halo in the shade of the tree.
“I think… I think I’ll stay here.” He gazed up at the clouds.
“Why is that?” He asked Sammy, dog-earing his page and setting his book aside to look at his longtime friend.
“I dunno. It just feels like the thing to do.” He gazed back at Alastor. “I think it’s because I like the people here.”
Alastor’s mind was shifting through the memories and playing them like a set of movie clips, except they were his own life, as he got ready for bed that night. He drank some water and set the glass on his bedside table.
I wonder if he still lives in New Orleans… Was his last thought before he went into a light slumber, dreaming of the good times with his old best friend..