You never know when the good you do may come back around

Charles blinked and wondered what kind of test this was meant to be. He hadn’t put too much thought into it. Just assumed his parents planned on sending him to St. Andrews, ‘cause it was so close. Most of his friends were also going, but that had never been the reason Charles would too. Still, he didn’t want to set his dad off with the wrong answer, so he tried asking instead, “Whatever school you and mum think’s best, innit?”

From the heavy sigh out of his dad’s nose, somehow despite not really being an answer, it was still wrong. “C’mon Charlie. I know you got a brain in that head of yours. It’s about time you use it. Your mum and I can’t be making your decisions for you forever.”

Charles thought that wasn’t fair. He didn’t get to make his own decisions. He was always wrong, according to his dad, so why bother trying? Still, he couldn’t say that. He forced his jaw to relax and tried to not glare down at the table. “St Andrews then?" he grumbled.

His dad didn’t even respond to that. Just rapped his knuckles against the table, and glared at it himself for a minute or two. Eventually with a long sigh, he handed a stack of papers over to Charles. At the top was a crest and the name, “St. Hilarions”. “You already know your granddad was in the military,” his dad said, upset as he always was when his own dad came up in conversation. And sure. Just about the only thing Charles knew about his grandfather was that he’d been in World War Two. That and that he was a racist arsehole, who liked to hit his kids when he drank. Still, Charles nodded, because that was what was expected of him. “St. Hilarions is a good school. They only take kids from military families. Your granddad was an Officer, so you’d be entitled to go if you wanted.

“Your grandmum put some money aside when your granddad died. She said it was for you to go to a proper school with…the right sort of folks,” his dad sounded like he was swallowing glass when he said that, so Charles could easily guess how he felt about that, and whose words those had been. “She said she’ll pay for your school if you go to St Hilarions. Anywhere else, and we’re on our own. Don’t look like that. Your mum and I are doing well enough to keep a roof over your head and food in your belly, aren’t we? We don’t need her money to send you to a good school. It’s just…St Hilarions really is one of the best. You’re not going to see a better opportunity than this. Certainly not at St. Andrew’s,” his dad rolled his eyes as if the idea of Charles going there was so ridiculous.

Edwin snuck some glances around them. Charles seemed sure that everyone here were 'good people', but all the same, Edwin didn't need anyone overhearing what he was about to admit. “…Most times, I look back at what life would have looked like for me if I hadn’t…died when I did, and I much prefer being dead here and now." With Charles went unsaid. "Looking at you, and knowing you found a way out of the life that would have been expected of us, I like to imagine that maybe there would have been a life to look forward to after all.”

“Oh no. You’re too sweet, Edwin Payne. Don’t you dare make me ruin my makeup speaking like that!”

“He does it to me all the time,” Charles interrupted, and draped himself along Edwin’s back. Edwin would never say it out loud, but he was glad that Charles had never stopped his casual tactile affection after his own confession. He had no idea what he might do with the loss if Charles had pulled away. “Waterproof ghost makeup doesn’t stand a chance against my best mate. Now what are we talking about that has you making other people cry, mate?”

“He was just saying that we would have been best friends if we met in life,” Mary-Ann waved her hand at Charles.

The offended squawk Charles let out was right in Edwin’s ear, but he wasn’t going to be the one to pull away from Charles’ hold. “Oi! Trying to pilfer my best mate now? Get your own, M!” Charles wrapped his arms around Edwin’s torso like he was actually at risk of being stolen away.

“Yes, yes. We all know Edwin is yours. I wouldn’t dream of taking your man, darling,” she turned her eyes to Edwin now. “Although I wouldn’t say no to a dance.”

“That is kind of you, but I’m afraid I don’t know any of the steps to the dances you might prefer. I wasn’t much of one for dancing in my time.”

When Charles could just see the play structure down the street, he asked what had been on his mind since his dad had told him about their plans for the weekend.

“How come we’ve never gone to grandmum’s house?” Truth be told, Charles didn’t even really remember meeting his grandmum before. He’d seen pictures of her and granddad, and even a few of him and grandmum when he was a baby, but he had no memory of ever seeing his grandmum. They usually went to see Mum’s family over the holidays. Sometimes, his Auntie K came over, but that was it for his dad’s side of the family.

“Pffffffff,” his dad let out a long breath, and looked up at the sky. “It’s a bit complicated, and involves a lot of dumb adult stuff,” his dad said, still not looking at Charles. “But mostly we don’t go, ‘cause your granddad’s a mean old man. Your grandmum is too nice and says some of it’s not his fault. Says he was nicer before the war. But he was mean to me and your Auntie K growin’ up.” His dad frowned, “He was worse to your mum when I brought her home the first time. I didn’t wanna put her through that more than I had to, and I couldn’t put you through that at all.” His dad’s eyes seemed to be looking at something far away, but when Charles looked up, all he could see were clouds. With a shake of his head, his dad looked back down at him and gave his hand a squeeze, “But your grandmum really wanted to see you, so that’s why we’re meeting at the park. Figure you an’ the other kids can play while we boring grownups sit and talk. If things work out, maybe we’ll all get lunch after.”

“And ice cream?” he asked hopefully. Mum had been feeding him nothing but peas and broccoli lately. At least it felt like he’d been eating nothing but veggies, with no sweets.

“Ice cream is for good lads. Have you been a good lad this week?”

“Yes?”

His dad looked down at him suspiciously, and Charles tried not to fidget. His dad didn’t like when he fidgeted or wiggled too much. Good lads stood still, and didn’t talk back, and he wanted to prove he was good. Before his dad declared his decision on the matter one way or the other, they arrived at the park to a delighted call of “Paul! Charlie! You made it!”

“Hey mum,” his dad replied, and gave her a one-armed hug, with his other hand still firmly holding onto Charles’. “Charlie, say hello.”

Charles looked up at the lady from all the photographs, and gave her a little wave. “Hello,” he said. Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t duck behind his dad like he could with mum. Dad didn’t like it when he clutched onto his pant-leg.

The lady- grandmum Charles supposed, cooed at him, and wrapped her arms around him in a big hug. “Look at you! You’ve gotten so big! How old are you now? Seven or eight?” she asked.

“I’m five!” he answered proudly. He’d just had his birthday a while back. He’d gotten to invite all his mates from school over to play in the back garden. Mum had even surprised them with pizza, and cake from the grocery store.

That seemed to surprise his grandmum, because she looked up at his dad from where she was crouched. “He’s so tall!” she said to him, before she turned her attention back to Charles. “You get that from your granddad then,” she decided. “You might not remember, but he’s as tall as a tree.” Charles looked up and around the park then at all the trees. He couldn’t imagine anyone that tall.

Before he could ask if granddad was really as tall as a tree, his dad placed a hand on his head and told him, “You go play now, Charlie. You don’t wanna sit with us old, boring grownups, while we talk. Grandmum and I will just be here on the bench,” he said and pointed to and empty bench nearby. “Make sure to stay where we can see you.”

Charles nodded, and ran off to the playground. He considered his options. His dad had said to stay where they could see him, but most of the play structure was blocked by the swing set and monkey bars. There were a bunch of other kids by the swings, but Charles couldn’t quite push himself yet without help. Same went for the monkey bars. As much as he wanted to prove to mum he could do them, they were really high, and he’d hoped his dad would help him, but now dad was busy talking to grandmum. That left the teeter-totter and the sandbox. The sandbox wasn’t his favourite, but there was no one playing at the teeter-totter, and he could hardly do that by himself. For now, he sat himself down in the sandbox and got to digging and piling sand into little castles. Maybe he could ask dad to play on the other stuff later, since he didn’t seem too grumpy today.

He played like that by himself for a while. It was boring, and he wished he had a friend to play with. Maybe they could play tag, or hide and seek, or maybe pretend they were super spy detectives or something. When he looked over, dad and grandmum really weren’t even paying attention to him, so what was the point of being here? Dad had said grandmum wanted to watch him “be cute.” Much as Charles knew pouting and throwing a tantrum wasn’t cute, he was bored of playing by himself in the sand. He wanted dad to be done boring grownup talk now so they could play. That was what he was thinking when he kicked over his pile of sand, and crossed his arms with a huff.

Of course, that was when he heard his dad yell.

Yellow Heart:

“Do you think we’re like Victor and Emily? ‘Doomed by the narrative’?”

“What does that even mean?” Charles raised an eyebrow, and looked down at her sideways. They’d just finished movie night with Niko, and now he was walking her home as they did every Friday.

“I mean…I’m alive, and you...You died over thirty years ago. Either you’re sixteen forever, or your old enough to be my father.” Charles couldn’t help the look of disgust at that thought. At least Crystal looked equally grossed out by the words coming out of her mouth. She kicked a stone down the sidewalk, before moving on. “If you’re sixteen forever, and I keep getting older, how does that work? The only way we could both be teens forever is…if I died. You and Edwin keep saying you want to keep me alive as long as possible. Right? You’d rather I be alive for a long time, even if it means getting older? You wouldn’t want me to die, just so we could be together forever?”

Charles had no idea what the right answer was, with the way Crystal looked more and more frantic with every word she was saying. So instead of thinking, he just pulled her into the tightest hug he could. What surprised him most was that she was crying. Not quiet, or subtle tears either, but great heaving sobs, as she tried to clutch his ghostly body tighter to hers. He would crawl into her skin if he had to, if that would help her feel better. Charles still didn’t know the right answer that she wanted, but he would do anything to never make her cry like this again. For now, he just held her tight and made gentle shushing noises like he was sure his mum must have done for him at some point. He willed his own eyes not to cry in response to Crystal’s tears. This wasn’t-well it wasn’t not about him, but right now Crystal needed him more. He kept a lookout up and down the street to make sure there was no one around to see Crystal wailing with her arms wrapped around the air like a crazy lady.

And oh. Wasn’t that just another piece of the puzzle.

Doomed by the narrative indeed.

They’d made it work for about a year now. They’d found little ways to be together. To go on walks, and kiss, and talk about everything and nothing together like they had all the time in the world. But what was a boyfriend whose hand you couldn’t really hold? What was a boyfriend if you couldn’t bring him to meet your friends or parents? What was a boyfriend who died almost twenty years before you were born?

Eventually, Crystal’s crying calmed down. Her makeup was an absolute wreck. Without a word, he dug in his bag and handed her a package of makeup wipes. She laughed a little bit at that, even as she took them with a muttered, “My hero.” And really, that was the best feeling, making her laugh. Charles knew where this conversation was going. Had always known where it would be going, long before they’d even thought to have it. Still, he hoped that even by the end of this, he’d be allowed to keep making her laugh.

“I knew,” Charles said into the quiet of the night around them. She looked up, and Charles didn’t think he’d ever not love those big brown eyes of hers, even if he couldn’t be in love with them. “It’s like you said, right? Doomed by the narrative or whatever you wanna call it, the only way we work is with tragedy, right?” His own life had already been a tragedy. There was no reason to make Crystal’s life into one as well. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” Charles admitted, and looked away into the distance, to think about the words before they tumbled out of his mouth. “I don’t know if you want to grow old, or if you want to stay young with us forever. I do know that I don’t want you to die Crystal. I want you to live to at least a hundred,” he grinned at the image of Crystal as an old crone still calling him out on his bullshit. “So, I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen. Even if that means…this is where our story ends.” Now Charles really did have to choke back his own tears.

“Hey!” Charles turned back to look at her, because now of course Crystal sounded angry. “You are not getting rid of me, you hear? I’m a Dead Boy Detective, same as you and Edwin! You, Charles Rowland, are stuck with me.” And boy if those words didn’t ring a bell. Even with her jabbing a finger in his face, Charles was smiling. Glad they were on the same page about that then. “Even if…Even though we won’t be together forever like you might have hoped, I’m not going anywhere. We’re a team.”

“Friends then?” Charles held his hand out to shake, with a slightly damp laugh.

“Best friends,” Crystal shoved her hand in Charles’ with a tight squeeze. At Charles’ surprised look, she rolled her eyes. “Oh, come off it! Yeah, obviously I know Edwin is your ‘Best mate’, but you’re my best friend too, and nothing is about to change that. Deal with it.” She said it like a threat. The gleam in her eyes held a dare in them, and Charles loved a dare.