Story:A Hero's Unwelcome
A Hero's Unwelcome
Written by Tazel and Mitch De La Guardia
Thanksgiving.
As the name suggests, it's a time for giving thanks for things you have. Including, as it seemed, shindigs.
As parties go, this was probably one of the bigger ones that Hector Louis (Rat), GM for the newly christened Texas Lone Stars, had thrown. He had repeatedly insisted through face-to-face conversations, tweets, emails, phone calls that every member of the ex-Kansas City Clefs attend the Thanksgiving get together.
It was intended to ensure everyone knew that they had their family here, in each other. In this new season, there were teams that were being managed rather laissez-faire, and other teams controlled with an iron boot. Coming from one of the worst performing teams in the league, the Lone Stars had quickly found some star players in their rookie choices, and continued to milk the performance out of the old guard who stayed along for the ride.
The manager had a very paws-on approach to the way the coach applied strategies and tactics, working with the new talent to find their niche to fill, and helping personally ease inevitable tensions between players, on and off the court. One such way he found to really cement relationships was to keep the players in touch with each other after scrimmages and games. Though some would prefer otherwise, it was generally a sound practice.
But this Thanksgiving party? Mandatory. Everyone needed to attend, bar none. If even for just a little bit of time. To meet the players once again, and those people special to them. Parents, friends, siblings - being a GM meant you could afford the catering bill for quite a few people, and it certainly looked that way once eyes gazed around the Austin Arena reception area. Essentially, the press conference room, but no press and no conference tonight.
Tonight, it was a party.
A wall television was showing highlights from FSPN from some of the other teams. Some colorful back and forths between players on the court, and off as well. For most, this meant also the rather unflattering tweets of back and forth posturing, goading and otherwise egging on to see who will lose their cool first.
Travis (Grey Koala, F) sipped his gin procured from the open bar and swirled the glass around, letting the ice cubes make their unique sound against each other. As he swirled, he surveyed the party members, smiling as he noted most of the players tended to go to what was comfortable. A standard operating procedure with parties, he'd noticed. The veterans tended with veterans, and the rookies - himself included - tended with those they were most familiar with.
Marcus Knight, the last-minute otter guard signup, spent a lot of his time talking with his new friends he had made in his next-door neighbors, who had thrown a TXS social of their own. Parties were a big thing to the social otter, so this was not unexpected.
The koala's eyes gazed over at Mariam Walstein (African Cape Buffalo, FC). Or attempted to, rather, as she was constantly surrounded by her family members and close family friends, including the coach she had invited to 'assess' Travis' playing. She apparently had great influence, making a coach come back and cough out a profuse apology for his behavior. While she tried to include everyone, that was becoming increasingly difficult as she was being buried by kin. But a good burial, nonetheless.
Then there was Thea De Csepel (White German Shepherd, G/F). Had Travis not seen her perform, playing veteran level after being picked back up into the Lone Stars fold - he never would have believed the quality of that performance. Like him, and the other players, she had good days and bad, but mostly she and he were in the same boat. No Mitchell Reddings, they were, but good enough.
Another sip of the gin and Travis made his way back to the snack table area to pick another soda cracker with veggie spread. The actual food hadn't been brought out yet - that would be another twenty minutes for the caterers to set up, considering the arena had no kitchen. Good thing they already prepared a lot of it at their restaurant - the GM had seen to that, personally. Lacking any real food at the moment, the koala had to quell his growling tummy with finger food. After munching, he looked up to see Charles Burgh (Polar Bear, C) walk through the doorway, after ducking. You'd have thought doorways would have been built with FBA stars in mind, but apparently not the conference room.
'Iceburgh' definitely had the look of 'Do not want', but whereas normally it would be to a specific item or individual, his gaze on the party in general identified it as the target of his annoyance. Had the GM not made this MANDATORY...
Travis walked up, but not before a snake slithered up to his side, and tried to fix Burgh's shirt and tie. Kinny Demarcus (Hairy Bush Viper, G/F) had volunteered himself to make 'Klondike' (as many of the team members had called him - usually not to his face) more presentable. Burgh was unimpressed, and gruffly but gently pushed Kinny aside. Kinny looked a bit sad for a moment, then shrugged and slithered back to another TV setup, with a OBox and FBA2K14 loaded up. Pat Winters (Spotted Skunk, G) and Sherman Downward (Porcupine, F/C) were playing as the Clefs from the 2013 season. Some people can't let go, it seemed.
Kinny would not have had to make any such fashion adjustment to Travis, though. If anyone looked out of place at the rather casual reception, it was the koala, dressed in the same crisp blue suit he wore to the draft, where everyone else was wearing polos, slacks, jeans, skirts. He looked like he was there to sell insurance to every single party goer.
But that was Travis A. Buckner. Professional, especially at a semi-official FBA function.
His parents, of course, didn't get the memo about dress, though they did get invited just like every other players' family did. Gary Buckner was talking with Mr. Louis about Las Vegas, taking notes from the rat on other places to go, should the couple find themselves there. And Madeline Buckner was talking with some of the other mothers of the FBA team - most of them around her age, and some of them being an FBA parent for as many years as Madeline had been in weeks. But when the disheveled polar bear entered, she excused herself and quickly made her way to Travis' side. "He's here!" she whispered, as if imparting secret information.
Travis chuckled. "Hard to miss him, mom." he said, his baritone voice pooled out over his drink. Another quick sip before he put down the glass on the nearby folding table.
"I'm going to to talk with him. Let him know how thankful I am and how proud I am to have him on your team." she confessed.
The younger koala arched his eyebrow over his eyeglasses. "I think he got the message with the check." he mentioned, subtly trying to dissuade her from doing anything that might make him look foolish.
And by him, he meant Chuck. Mostly.
"Nonsense!" she said, waving off the warning. "He didn't come with any family - he needs someone to talk to!" And before Travis could interject, his mom was making her way towards the big polar bear, who upon seeing her actually managed a bit of a smile and as cordially as he could muster, grunted a greeting to her.
"Well, he DID help her a lot..." mused Travis as he picked his drink back up and downed the rest of the ice-watered Hendricks. At least Mr. Louis procured good gin for the party. His eyes travelled to the large television, which was showing highlights from the Santa Fe/Texas game a while back - where the Lone Stars had finally broken the Whips' winning streak. He smiled to himself. Only eleven points in that game, but the team came through on the others. Including Mariam, he recalled.
He couldn't help but smile as he saw his own image on the screen, doing what he found came naturally to him. Getting height and dunking. People still didn't seem to believe he could jump as high as he could. Small fish. Small fry. Wee Walla. Midget Forward. He'd heard them all. And yet, he was still scoring on eight foot tall polar bears. Admittedly, not *often*, but still enough to...
"...stop calling me that?!"
Travis' ear twitched. That was Burgh's voice. Tearing his eyes away from the screen, he saw Chuck standing against the wall, his face a mask of barely contained, building rage. In front of him, was Travis' mom, looking confused. He seemed like he was backed into a corner. She said one more thing - Admittedly, Travis didn't hear exactly what was said.
But he saw what HAPPENED.
"I'm no damn HERO!!" the polar bear roared. Fists balled, shaking with anger, Burgh snarled, his teeth bared and glinting in the light of the 'natural light' fluorescents in the room. Without warning, he turned, thick neck craning his head about to look for some form of target before one of those massive fists drove straight through the paint and drywall up to his wrist in a furious punch. A huge, guttural growl accompanied the massive assault on the wall, immediately capturing everyone's attention. Only the television was oblivious to the event, happily spewing out catch phrases, scores and other currently irrelevant trivia.
The room went grave-quiet - the video game was immediately paused, as Kinny and Sherman joined everyone's' gaze - those having heard the crunch of plaster thinking that the sound might have been bone instead. Burgh paid them no mind. He didn't pay ANYONE any mind. His face in the same rage-snarl grimace, he simply wrenched his paw free as if he had punched gelatin, and headed out the back door towards the locker room, slamming the door without so much as even a look at any of the party's guests.
The guests' attention then slowly returned from the exiting polar bear to the remaining koala bear, Madeline, who was wide eyed and shivering. Travis dropped his glass to the floor - luckily it landed in a carpeted area, and was empty - and ran to his mother, with his father quickly hobbling up to them. "Mom! Are you okay?" called out Travis as he made his way towards the shaking marsupial.
For a moment, her mouth opened but no words came out; everyone could tell she was trying to speak, though. A quick glance over his mom's face showed Travis no injuries. No bruises, ruffled clothes. No blood.
Chuck hadn't attacked her. But could he have? Would he have? What did she say?
"I... I don't... wh-what did I say wrong?" she finally stammered out, her pupils dilated as the danger of the situation washed over her. Gary was quickly there to hold his wife close, comforting her. "You did nothing wrong, love. Nothing." he reassured her. She began to sob into her husband's shoulder, as Gary looked up at Travis, and the two looked at the still stunned guests.
It was then Mr. Louis came up. "Is everyone okay?" he asked, any idea of mirth and lightness immediately leaving his muzzle. Travis looked to his dad, who nodded. "I think she's fine. She's just been spooked, is all." Gary replied to the GM.
"Okay, so what the hell happened?" asked Travis, incredulously, his own anger starting to boil up. It was difficult to get Travis mad. Usually you had to screw up BIG time to get him to the point that he would use any of those sharp koala claws on you. And feral koalas had been known to take on targets larger than themselves. Much larger.
The murmuring of nearby guests confirmed that nobody really knew what was said, except for two people. One of them was so frightened she couldn't speak. The other had just stormed out of the building.
Travis looked towards the rattled back door, where Burgh had left. The anger welled in him again. You can mock him. You can try to push him around. But he pushes back. But nobody - for no reason whatsoever - goes after an innocent, well meaning woman like his mom. And nobody frightens her like that without at least an explanation.
If not, a comeuppance.
"Stay with her." he commanded his father. Gary nodded and continued to hold his sobbing wife. The ballplayer turned to Mr. Louis. "Is anyone here medically trained?" he asked, his serious face plastered all over his muzzle.
"Yeah, I think one of Walstein's family is a doct..."
"Good," interrupted Travis. "Have my mom checked out. Could be some shock after that." With that command, Travis waded through the onlookers towards the path Chuck took a moment before.
"Hey! Wait! Travis, what are you doing, man?" asked Frank London (Wolf, F/C), who had moved in to intercept the koala. "Just let him go, man. It's what we all do."
Travis' eyes narrowed behind his glasses, the green of his eyes magnifying the ambient light. "NO. I want a god damn explanation for why he scared the living daylights out of my mom!" London was trying to mount a reply, but Travis, true to his speed, zipped around the wolf and made his way to the arena back hallway. The press and staff entrance.
Of course, Chuck wasn't there. He wouldn't have simply stayed put after that display. What Travis knew about the bear was that he was a loner, and really didn't like a lot of people. Though why was always a question mark. Tonight, that question got answered. NOBODY scares HIS mom and leaves unscathed. He'll find him, and either force an explanation out of Chuck...
... or there was going to be a game-delaying injury. Maybe two. Or more.
Travis wound through the corridors as best as he could, as fast as he could. He knew he was on the right track, as he found evidence that an angry polar bear went through recently. Claw marks on the walls. Pushed and some broken furniture. A shattered picture frame. The trail led him to the arena door.
There was the security guard hired to protect the entrance. After the recent attacks on FBA staff in their own arena's parking lots, Hector was not going to allow such a travesty here. Travis didn't even have to say a word. The security guard had shrunk back, and just pointed to the door. And this was a burly panda. But he was no fool, to get in Chuck's way.
Travis bolted outside, his paws already balled up in anger over what Chuck did. He narrowed his eyes at the melding of parking overhead lights on the blacktop, where they spread out to the inky blackness of night, only mildly surrounded by the bustling cityscape. He didn't expect to see Chuck nearby - knowing the bear's desire for solitude, Travis thought he might have made tracks back to his house. A quick check to see if Chuck's Scout was there showed it was. Burgh wouldn't have driven anything else.
And then, Travis saw him. On the side of the wall of the arena, near the queue area for tickets, Charles Burgh sat on an old style wood and iron bench, taking up the entirety of the seating area with just himself. His muzzle was pointing at the blackness that surrounded the arena; his brow was furred, eyes squinting, as if looking for something.
Travis was momentarily surprised at how easy it was to find Chuck, but the surprise quickly gave way to righteous anger, as he stomped over the connecting grass path. Burgh didn't even turn his head to see who was coming. He just kept looking at the darkness.
The koala stood right next to Chuck. "What the HELL happened in there, Chuck?" he asked, the anger palpable in his voice.
"Buzz off, Buckner." came the growled response.
"NO. You OWE me and my mother an explana..."
A slight turn of Chuck's head interrupted Travis' reply. "I thought you knew me better than that! I thought you knew I didn't want to have a big fuckin' deal made about this!" the bear snapped.
Travis looked slightly to the side, his pupils still dilated, his 'fight or flight' systems starting up. Another balling of his fingers into two fists - trying to get a handle on the anger he felt for Chuck's action. "My mother thinks you're great, and THIS is how you pay her back for that? You scare the ever-loving CRAP out of her?!" His breathing increased as he was considering options. What did he want for his mother? "You get your ass back in there, and you APOLOGIZE to her for that!"
Maybe that wasn't the best option. He wasn't, after all, Chuck's father. Or anyone who could order him around. Hell, even the coaches couldn't order him around, and they SHOULD have been able to. But Travis wasn't quite thinking straight, his anger bubbling to the surface.
But with Chuck sitting down, the koala deeply underestimated how much danger he *COULD* have been in.
The bench creaked and groaned as Chuck rose to a stand, towering more than a foot over the 6'5" koala, and thickly muscled. Dark eyes stared down the bump of his sloping muzzle as he let a deep rumble boil in his throat. But instead of raising his fist to strike Travis down, Chuck let his massive paws grasp Travis's shoulders lightly, and his face softened. "I didn't mean to," he said.
Travis stopped briefly, his breath caught in his throat. He didn't really expect Chuck to act that way. With his previous replies telling him, in essence, to get lost, what he expected was... well, for Chuck to grab him a lot more tightly than he was, and possibly toss him like a three pointer into the darkness that surrounded the arena, beyond the parking lot.
"You... you didn't MEAN to... to what... to batter a wall? To scare the hell out of my mom, and not to mention all the guests? To ruin the arena hallway?!" He gazed back down to the ground, off to the side, only to raise his head again, a confused, and still angry look. "I ask again - What made you DO that?" He felt he had a right to know.
Chuck's massive paws slipped away from Travis's shoulders, and he let himself ease back down onto the bench, once more looking off into the darkness. "She kept calling me a hero," he replied, his voice distant. "I'm no hero. I'm nobody's hero. No one should call me that."
This answer didn't seem to make sense to Travis. He again looked away, as if the sight of Chuck was interrupting his ability to process the situation. After about twenty seconds of thought, he spoke, slowly. "Let me get this straight..." Travis said, walking in front of Chuck so his gaze had to be interrupted by the blue suit. Even when Chuck was sitting down, he didn't need to look that far up to Travis. As tall as the koala was compared to most of his kind, he was one of the shortest on record, and that height difference meant people usually didn't take him as seriously. That meant loads on the court, where underestimating people can lose the game. But here, the effect of being small was even more pronounced, even when he loomed over the polar bear.
"...My mom... the woman you HELPED with your gift when she needed it the most... she called you a hero... and you fucking LOST IT?" he asked, incredulously, his expression matching.
"You wouldn't understand," Chuck muttered. Looking down at his paws, he gently wiped white dust and bits of drywall from his fur, shaking his head.
"TRY. ME."
Chuck looked upward to see Travis' face. A firm, dead frown. Narrowed green eyes. He'd seen that face before. The one he wore to games. The one he wore when he was dead serious with something. In the short time the polar bear had seen him play, he knew that there was a ferocity in that stare. One that would fight, rather than flight. There was no fight in Travis, now. But he did want to know.
No, he *needed* to know. Half for his mom... and half for Chuck.
A deep breath swelled the polar bear's chest, then let it fall, along with his shoulders. Any anger that had been on Chuck's face before was gone, replaced instead by a face Travis had never seen on him. It was one of pain, of loss and sorrow.
Taking a moment to clear his throat, Chuck spoke quietly. "A hero does what's right because it's right. A hero sacrifices of himself to help those who need him. He doesn't do it for a reward, he doesn't do it for fame or fortune. He..." he trailed off, eyes closing as he dipped his head, forcing to swallow past the lump that had built in his throat. "...he doesn't let his little brother die. I am no fucking hero, Travis. Don't you DARE ever call me one."
In those few lines, Travis forgot about the smashed wall. He forgot about his anger. He forgot about the party inside, though his mom's fear was ever-present in his thoughts. The lights went on in Travis' head, though - he was no psychologist, but Chuck's simple explanation put a whole new spin on why.
As there was little room on the bench, Travis walked over, retrieved a patio chair, and sat down in front of Chuck. It was almost like a psychiatrist's office, that layout. "Okay. Alright..." he started. "You didn't get angry at my mother... you got angry at something that reminded you about your brother?" He was trying to understand. "Something that someone associated with 'heroism' to you?"
There had been psychiatrists in the past, counselors and "nice people to talk to," but none had ever helped, for Charles Burgh. They couldn't understand. Oh, they could pretend, they could speak softly and assure him that it wasn't his fault, but deep down he knew it was.
Reaching up, Chuck hooked a finger over the knot of his tie, pulling it down until it came free, and he unfastened the next button on his shirt. "I wanted to see if helping you would make it hurt less," he said at last. "It was so similar, it should have made up for things, but it didn't." His words made little sense without context, but it was clear that Chuck was having great difficulty being faced with his greatest regret.
Travis looked on, leaning forward. He had never, EVER seen Chuck appear hurt before. And others might capitalize on that. But Travis stayed quiet. His features softened a bit, and he looked back at Chuck's face when he raised his muzzle. Silently, he bode his teammate to continue.
In the span of a few breaths, Chuck's mind resumed its normal course, perhaps out of habit, or perhaps in self-defense, but some of that anger returned to his face, and danger glinted in his eyes. "What I tell you, you don't tell a fucking soul, got it? You go telling the press this, and you'll wish you were that wall, understand?"
Travis' eyes narrowed. He was not going to be bullied. "I think you know me better than that." he replied. firmly, admonishingly. If for whatever inane reason he would breach the friendship he had built, and tell the press, Chuck (and every member of the team) could easily destroy his reputation as well with Travis' OWN secret. But that wasn't the focus.
The koala sighed softly. "But if I have to say it... you have my word of honor. It stays here." Travis seemed to know Chuck needed this - and though there were confused people inside, this suddenly became more important. The one time Chuck's armor had cracks in it, and he needed someone he felt he could trust.
To be honest, Travis was happy to lend an ear.
"Good," Chuck grunted. He did need to hear it, some part of him required that verbal contract of silence. Shifting in his seat, he allowed himself another deep breath, his memories suddenly very sharp, painfully so.
"The team knows I don't have any siblings, and that's the truth," he said. "I don't anymore, at least, but I did once. I had a little brother. His name was Riley, and he was about five and a half years younger than me. My family is built big, but he was small, and the other kids called him a runt, but I stood up for him, and I made him feel safe.
"Mom worked at the city admin office, and Dad was often away for weeks at a time overseeing the oil rigs, so I was sort of Riley's second dad, and most of the time his only playmate. We'd go fishing a lot, and hiking, or camping. My dad bought me the Scout so I could take Riley way out and show him the mountains, and we spent most all summer out there, just the two of us and the Scout, when I was seventeen.
"But that fall, Riley started getting sick. We didn't know what it was, at first, and he got a little better, but soon he really got worse. Doctors diagnosed him with Leukemia. Once he was on treatment, he got better, but he wasn't up for going camping or anything, and had to stay home a lot, and my grandma watched over him. So, with my time freed up, I got pressured to join the high school basketball team, and I did. And I was good. Damn good. Good enough to draw college scouts all the way out to Whitehorse to see me.
"I'd never been famous. I never thought I would be, but all the attention started to go to my head, and with all the money my parents had to spend on Riley's treatment, my college fund was gone. So, I had to get a scholarship, and that meant playing ball. So I kicked ass on the court, working all the time on my game, getting better and better, but it meant I spent less and less time with Riley.
"Even over that summer, I paid more attention to basketball than I did to him, and come my senior year, I was a star, and that brightness blinded me. Riley's treatments stopped being effective, and he was getting worse. So much worse."
Chuck paused there, eyes closing as he bit his lip to keep it from shaking. After a few trembling breaths in silence, he exhaled, then opened his eyes to continue. "He was twelve years old, and his body was shutting down. Bullies and wild animals I could fight off for him, but against the disease I could do nothing. At least, that's what I thought, until the doctors told me what he needed. Bone marrow transplant.
"Neither my mom or my dad were close enough of a match, but I was perfect. All I had to do was go into surgery with him, and donate some of my bone marrow. But if I did, that would take me off the court for the season, and with that, any chance of getting picked up by a college scout. The doctors said there was another alternate treatment, and so I didn't go through with the donation. I hit the court instead.
"Sure enough, a scout found me, and I got offered a full-ride scholarship to Akron, but by then it was too late. The new treatment hadn't worked, and Riley was too weak for the transplant. He ...didn't make it to Christmas."
There Chuck stopped, a whimpering cry caught in his throat as he clamped a paw over his muzzle, eyes squeezed shut as he trembled in emotional agony. When at last words did come, they were tortured and unsteady. "I killed my brother, Travis. He died because I was selfish. I wouldn't sacrifice myself so he could live. Goddamn it, I killed my little brother!"
No more words could make their way from his mouth before Chuck broke down, sobbing into his paws. For all his arrogance, his prickly exterior and his spite, Charles Burgh hated one person more than any other.
Himself.
Travis took a soft, slow breath. He figured whatever was eating Charles Burgh all this time was very personal, but he had no idea *HOW* personal. How much Chuck blamed himself for his brother's death. There were no words coming to the normally glib muzzle he possessed. All he saw was someone suffering.
Travis did the only thing he thought he could do to help. He got off the chair, bent down in front of the huge bear, and hugged him. Hard. Without any words. Just... support. Chuck's huge arms wrapped around the smaller marsupial and held on, as tears flowed from his eyes and splattered onto the koala's shoulder, rolling down the suit's edges for a bit until they dropped off. For a full minute, they just embraced. The two most unlikely personalities to be supporting each other were, in that time, essential to each other. Charles needed the support and the outlet for his grief.
And Travis? He needed to be responsible for someone. His whole career, his whole life, he'd been an only child. He answered to himself, pushed himself - as in his view, his father wasn't around to do it. He'd never had a little brother, someone to look out for. Someone like Riley was, to Chuck. Maybe if he had, he'd have turned out different. Less controlling. Less obsessed with personal betterment. Less focused on others' perceptions.
But Chuck's ordeal was much, much worse.
After about a minute of tears, Chuck raised up and rubbed his nose with his jacket sleeve. Travis had pulled the chair closer, sat down and leaned forward. "I can't... even begin to think of the words I should be saying right now. Any statement of 'I'm sorry for your loss' seems incredibly hollow. Though believe me - I do honestly feel sorrow about your brother."
Chuck did not reply, save for a soft nod. Travis took another soft breath. "... I can't imagine what you've gone through, and as painful as that was, it put a lot of things in perspective now." He straightened up a bit. "I think I *do* understand. And now I understand why you did what you did for me. For my mom. And the charity check..." Travis continued, punctuating his last statement.
Wiping his eyes, the polar bear tried to sit up straight, hoping to look strong in spite of his breakdown. Clearing his throat, he replied, "You were going to be in the same situation I was. You could either choose to help your family and lose out on your dream, or follow your dream at the cost of your family. Neither choice is a good one, so I didn't let you make it. And, if that check can help some kid make it through, then it's worth it."
Travis paused for a moment after that, his brow knitted in thought. Not that anything he could say would magically heal Charles' pain, but if nothing else, to prove he listened. And he cared. As a teammate, and as a friend. "Can I ask you something? A hypothetical?"
Chuck nodded approval. The koala cleared his throat softly. "Do you think Riley would have been proud of you for what you did for my mom? For those reasons you mentioned?"
A pause preceded the reply. "I... don't know," Chuck replied. "Probably, I guess. It's what he would have done. He was better than I was."
"Chuck..." Travis said, softly, "I don't think there's anything I can say that will ease your pain. But I can tell you this - *Leukemia* killed your brother. Not *you*. And although I wasn't there to hear the doctor's words, I'm very sure they wouldn't have tried that alternative treatment, if they didn't think it would have worked."
"But it didn't work," Chuck cut him off. "So, all I've got left is the game that I chose instead of saving him. He died so I could play! So I'm going to fucking play! And I'm going to win, and never back down! Because if I did that, he'd have died for nothing, and I'm not going to let that happen."
Travis paused to let the anger slide past, before he commanded Chuck's attention again. "No, Chuck. The game isn't all you have left. My mom is proof of that. And that charity - which I'm sure could use a direct hand from you, if you wanted - will receive that donation, and it WILL help others just like Riley." Travis took a quick breath, trying not to stop the momentum of his thought, his aid. "Think about it - think how many you *could* save, working with the Childrens' hospitals. Donating money, or even time to help out however you can? That's not 'nothing'. That's keeping him alive, his legacy going beyond just one person, and touching a lot more!"
Chuck looked up at Travis again, his face returning to a visage of pain. "I'm not ready to let him go," Chuck answered, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Travis stood up and gently put a paw on Chuck's shoulder. "I know, big guy. But it's not the guilt you should retain. It's his memory. You keep playing ball. You keep that going as a reason to succeed, for both you AND him. What you earn in money or fame, you can turn around, and help others in his name." The koala let out a gentle smile, supportively. "That way, you don't ever let him go. He can become a part of what you do. Integrate the two, and you'll have more power in both."
Chuck listened, and though he did hear the words, they would not register fully. At least not that night. Maybe when his emotions weren't running so high. But enough remained in his mind for him to nod. "Maybe. In time," he replied. "But not yet."
Travis nodded. "Not yet. But someday. Hopefully soon." The koala stood up in front of the polar bear, and extended his hand to him. "Let's go back inside. You need to do your apology rounds, but I'll talk to mom about... toning down the enthusiasm." His eyes glimmered behind his glasses. "Deal?"
The white bear looked at the grey paw, and then back up to Travis, his black lips smiling just a tad. "Deal," Chuck nodded. His paw enveloped Travis's, giving it a shake before he hauled himself up from the bench. "Bet Hector's gonna have Coach run me raw at practice for that hole I just put in the wall, though."
Travis shrugged. "The responsibilities of being a GM, I suppose. I'm just glad no press was there to see it." He brushed off a bit more plaster hanging to Chuck's right sleeve. "Come on. I'll get you a beer once you make your rounds."
Chuck nodded, and straightened up, but didn't bother to fix his coat and tie. The two walked out of the ticketing area towards the back door, where a couple of the guests had collected, along with the panda security guard. Most, though, had gone back to their socializing, no doubt whispering about the two. But relief crossed the observers' faces when they saw the two, no worse for wear, re-enter the room, with Charles making his rounds of apologies. Especially to Madeline Buckner.
And once more for the night, there was peace. Which was as much thanksgiving as could be given, right now.
Featured Characters
Travis Buckner Charles Burgh Kinny DeMarcus Mariam V. Walstein Thea De Csepel Thea De Csepel Frank London