Angry voices echoed down the long hallway and up the stairs,
reaching the ears of the two boys huddled on the top step.
"He's going to make
us go away, you know," drawled the youngest. His voice
quivered a little, though
it was obvious to his companion that he was trying
to
hide his fear.
"Yep. Know dat, Ez."
Ezra Standish sighed and rubbed his eyes. Eleven years old and
he was being kicked out of another home.
"Not your fault, mon ami," Remy told him, rubbing his back
lightly. "Maude, she just can' seem t' help it."
"She never can. I just wish for once she'd think her plans all
the way through! I'm tired of moving."
A door slammed
downstairs and the two boys looked at each other, then slowly
stood up. Ezra forced a
smile in Remy's direction, then turned and headed slowly for
his room. He entered,
shutting the door behind him, then paused and leaned
back against the door,
resting his head on its cool surface. A single tear trickled
down
his cheek before he
wiped it away, angry with himself for allowing even that tiny
thread of emotion to show.
He looked around
the single room he had lived in for the last two years. There
was
nothing special about it,
save that he called it home. He pushed himself
away from the door and
headed over to the closet, pausing only at the bed to reach
underneath and pull out his suitcase. He knew Jean Luc LeBeau
would
never allow them to stay here now
that he'd discovered the con his mother was
running.
He looked guiltily
at the door. He'd never been welcome here again. Maude
had let Jean Luc think Ezra
himself had been knowingly a part of the con.
Ezra laughed bitterly.
Knowingly. Yes, he had known Maude was planning a
con, but even he, her own
son, had had no idea of its scope. And now it had
cost him the only place
he'd ever called home, the only place that had let
him
be himself. That hurt.
He should have known what she was planning. She'd done it often
enough before this, but he'd allowed himself to be lulled into
complacency. So much time had gone by, and they'd stayed in this
one place for so long now, that Ezra had been sure that she had
given up the con and settled in here, as he had. This place
suited them so well. Their talents were utilized, and they had a
family here. Well, they had had a family here. Past tense.
Now... now they wouldn't be coming back. Ever.
He pulled open the
closet door and started removing his clothes from their hangers.
He stuffed
them haphazardly in his
suitcase, not caring that they were balled up and
wrinkled. Maude would have
chided him for forgetting that appearances meant
everything, but right now,
Ezra couldn't bring himself to care.
There was a light tap on his door
and Ezra froze for a moment before turning
to
answer it. Jean Luc LeBeau stood outside.
Ezra quietly
stepped aside, letting the head of the New Orleans Thieves
Guild enter. He didn't say
anything to Jean Luc, simply went back to his
closet and continued putting clothes in his suitcase.
"Why?" the voice was soft and disappointed.
Ezra shrugged.
There was no point in explaining himself. He wouldn't be
believed. Experience had
taught him that, and he was sure Maude had done her
usual
bang-up job at getting them both alienated.
LeBeau sighed. "I
trusted y' both, y' know. Thought Maude was going t' be a
partner. I can understand
her b'trayal. Its the way she is. But I never
expected you t' be part of it."
Ezra flinched, but
still said nothing. There was nothing to say. The
situation was partly his
fault. He had known what his mother was planning,
even
if he had thought she had given up the idea, he had known once.
In that light, he was guilty.
Jean Luc sighed
again when Ezra didn't speak and ran his fingers through his
hair. "Y' both got an hour
t'leave. Don't come back to N'Orleans." He
stood
and left the room.
Ezra's shoulders
sagged, but he resolutely kept packing away his belongings.
He didn't have much. He and
Maude had always moved around too much for him
to
cultivate too many material possessions.
"Y' okay, homme?" Remy's voice drifted over from the door.
Ezra shrugged. He,
who loved to talk, seemed to have lost his voice. He just
couldn't force any sound
past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in his
throat.
Remy walked up
behind him and placed his hands on Ezra's shoulders, turning
the younger boy around to
face him. "Ez. Look at me?" Remy tilted Ezra's
chin
up, forcing him to look up.
Ezra looked into
Remy's strange red and black eyes and found himself forcing
back tears. He couldn't
cry. Not now. Mother would be here any second and he
didn't need a lecture from
her on top of everything else that was going
wrong
today.
"Its not your fault, mon ami," Remy said softly. "Don' be feelin'
guilty for what she did. I know y' had nothing t' do with it."
Ezra laughed. "But
I did. Don't you see? Even if I didn't know the details,
I knew she had been
planning a con and didn't tell anyone. That makes it my
fault."
Remy shook his head. "Non. T'at makes it her fault. Y' only
eleven, homme. Y' can' be made responsible for her decisions."
Ezra just shrugged and Remy knew he wasn't getting through.
"Look, Ez. I know y' don't believe
me, but its true. And no matter what
ev'ryone else t'inks, I
know y' didn' have anyt'ing t' do wit' her con. I'm
still y' friend. Always
will be. If y' need m', just yell an' I'll come. You're m'
brother. I'll always
stand by
you."
Ezra blinked,
surprise showing briefly on his face before he managed to
subsume the expression and
hide it behind his usual poker face. He looked at
Remy.
"Yes. Really," Remy replied, answering the unspoken question.
"Y' know m' address. Write. I won' forget y'."
"Thanks," Ezra said hoarsely.
"Ezra, darlin'," Maude's melodious voice called from the
hallway, breaking the moment.
"Yes, Mother."
"We need to leave, darlin'. Are you ready?"
"Almost." Ezra forced a smile and looked up at Remy. "I'll
write," he promised.
"Good." Remy replied. He hugged Ezra and headed for the door. He
paused in the doorway. "Don' forget what I said."
Ezra looked at him
solemnly. "I won't." he said, saluting his only friend.
Remy disappeared and Maude
swept into the room, her skirts flaring out
behind her.
"Lets go, darlin', we're in somewhat of a hurry."
Ezra sighed. "Yes, Mother." He looked up at her as he zipped his
suitcase closed. "Where are we going?"
Maude shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Somewhere new and excitin'."
What do you think about New York?"
Lyrics: "I'll Stand By You" - The Pretenders
