Tess

[cottoncandypink]

The door opens to Wilford's dressing room. The blue walls are decorated with framed vintage movie posters, opening up for a vanity that doesn't look like it's been used since Wilford moved into the building. Along the exterior brick wall is where Wilford's set up his office, with a few shelves and filing cabinets behind the massive desk. The other side of the room is more of a lounge, with a black leather sofa and matching chair, and a smudged up glass coffee table that shows evidence of small, sticky hands.

Wilford closes the door behind them, only to open it again to reveal the large closet where he keeps several other guns. He stores the rifle in with the rest, making sure the door is locked so the nosy little toddler can't find his way in.

Beyond the door leading to the hall, people are obviously coming and going. Someone's having a heated argument, but the soundproofing in the building is heavy enough that nothing specific can be made out.

Now that there's signal, Wilford pulls out his phone to check the traffic report. Wilford sighs. "Someone dropped a yacht on the beltway," he says.

His phone isn't buzzing with missed texts though, so he's hoping it happened after Andy got past that point.

Comments

[have_no_mercy]

Tess would not only approve of this plan, she'd help.

"He's a worm. They have a way of getting places."

She shakes her head.

"I'm good, thank you."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford submits the order and starts leading the way back to his office, before his own kid starts causing a scene.

"He couldn't have chosen a worse time for it," he says.

The office is a closet, probably literally. His computer is on a small folding table in the corner, but he has somehow managed to cram a small two-seater and a coffee table into the space. He sets Michael down on the sofa, and pulls out a handful of crayons and a colouring book for him.

"I'd done something real stupid, and was lucky he doesn't know it was a felony. I'm pretty sure anyway, because he could have destroyed me with it."

He doesn't know how many people in the bar know about his adventures in opening a fifteen year old save. He's guessing not many.

[have_no_mercy]

She follows them inside the office and sits beside Michael, handing him crayons as he wants them.

"He's an evil little shit that way. What did you do?"

[cottoncandypink]

Michael opens his book to a random page, finding a blank one to scribble on. The page opposite, with a duck in rubber boots and a rain coat, has been coloured with significantly more care. Michael picks up one of the green crayons and ignores the uncoloured puppy. The duck apparently needs more green. A lot more green.

"There was this guy who I was pretty sure was save scumming. I didn't know if he had two save logs, or if someone else was helping him, or what. But I knew he was doing it and wanted to catch him in the act. And I thought the best way to do that was to open an old save from when I was just out of college."

It was the single most stupid, idiotic thing he has ever done.

[have_no_mercy]

Tess still isn't sure about saves and how Wilford's world actually works, so this perhaps doesn't impress upon her the way it should.

"Isn't that what saves are for? To be opened later?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford shakes his head as he boots up his computer. "Not if you open them to use future knowledge for personal gain," he says. "The feds like that about as much as they like insider trading."

Fifteen years of future knowledge is a lot to be acting on. Jim's apathy saved him a whole heap of trouble.

He gives the computer his password and pulls up the day's time sheets. Two people didn't show up today. Great. He pulls out his phone and fires off a text to each of them to figure out where they are, since nobody bothered to put any notes into the system about it.

[have_no_mercy]

She isn't following, but that's fine. He did a bad thing and he's glad he didn't get caught for it. She knows the feeling.

She keeps handing Michael crayons as Wilford finishes up with his work.

"Is this all you do, go from one job to another?"

[cottoncandypink]

Pretty much. Wilford knows his world is different to most, and it's almost impossible to explain everything anyway.

"Not every day. But I go stir crazy hanging around the house all the time."

She's friends with Jim. She's probably heard it before. He's got to keep himself busy if he doesn't want to get himself into trouble he might not be able to get himself out of.

"I'll have to be here all week for that damn show, so he's gonna stay with a buddy of mine. He's got an eight year old that he spoils rotten, and they get along pretty well."

He doesn't want Michael on TV. That would be the easiest way for his mother to track him down.

While he talks, Wilford starts going through the bills. He's already paid off the place's substantial debts, but that hasn't stopped new ones from coming in. While he does that, Michael mumbles to himself, scribbling wildly with whichever colour seems to catch his eye. If he misses the page and gets it on the table, Wilford doesn't seem to care. He's engaged and ostensibly learning some skills, which can only be a good thing.

[have_no_mercy]

"You need a hobby."

Like she's one to talk, but at least she's taking time off right now to be here.

"So you're just going to leave him with someone else for a week? He needs stability."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford shakes his head. "No, just for the evenings. I'm going to pick him up on my way home. But he can't be here, and I'd rather not get fined by the network."

So he's going to get the stupid reality show cancelled instead.

The door opens, and one of the servers brings a tray with several plates and bowls holding various things. Wilford moves onto the floor across the table from Michael, moving everything out of the way so they have room for dinner.

"His mom," he starts, but shakes his head. "He can't be here when they're filming."

Along with various fish cakes and gimbap and beef, the server hands Wilford a bottle of beer and a glass of orange juice, both of which get set well out of the way up on his desk. Michael immediately forgets all about his colouring and grabs one of the fish cakes from the plate.

[have_no_mercy]

She smiles a little as Michael dives right in, but waits until the servers have left before saying anything.

"So don't film. You've got to have enough clout to get it tossed out." And if he doesn't, then he needs to work on it.

"I get that he can't be found, but he still needs you."

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford's not too worried about it. "It'll be fine," he says. "I'll keep my money, and this shit won't happen again."

Not to him, at least.

Michael's got much better about eating over the last few months, which has been good news for both of him. After those first few weeks of tantrums, Wilford had thought his head was going to explode.

As it is, he makes sure Michael doesn't stuff the whole fish cake into his mouth all at once by distracting him with his crayons again.

"Which one's the blue one?" he asks. Michael picks up a red crayon. "Nope, that's red," Wilford corrects, taking it and putting it back down. "Blue." Michael picks up a brown crayon. Again, Wilford takes it, this time handing him the blue crayon. "Blue," he repeats.

Michael looks at the crayon, and very deliberately puts it down so he can pick the brown one up again.

"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" Wilford says. He gives up for the moment and picks up some of the gimbap, motioning to Tess to help herself if she wants.

[have_no_mercy]

Tess laughs, a sound not too often heard. "Of course it's on purpose. I told you, he's a smart kid."

She picks a little at the food, but doesn't take anything substantial.

"What's the plan once we're done here?"

[cottoncandypink]

"Go home. Get tortured by watching the same cartoon three hundred times until we both pass out. Hope I don't step on anything when I get up in the middle of the night."

Normal toddler stuff.

Settling down and getting some food in him is starting to make the excitement of the day catch up with him, and Michael starts to fade fast. He manages to eat one more fish cake before he starts falling asleep at the table. Usually the nap comes before dinner, but he decided to stay awake for the entire ride out to the beach, but Wilford expected this. He gets Michael settled on the couch for his nap, and cleans up the crayons, putting them into his inventory along with the book.

"Let's step outside," he says, grabbing his beer off the desk. "Get some air."

[have_no_mercy]

"Find a book he likes and read it to him. You'll have that bond forever."

Almost like she knows what she's talking about.

She moves to allow for Michael to get comfortable, and then nods at Wilford's suggestion.

"He seems pretty gone."

[cottoncandypink]

Almost!

"He'll be out for a while," he says.

On their way out of the office, he waves to get the bartender's attention, and points back at the door. She nods and waves at them as he leads the way toward the beach. Normally he comes out to the patio to smoke, but people are actually dining out there today. There are a few groups with umbrellas and picnic blankets scattered out on the sand just beyond the boardwalk as well. They shouldn't have anyone out on blankets if they're short-staffed, so he stops by one of the groups to briefly make sure they don't need anything.

Once they're far enough away from paying customers, Wilford stops and lights a cigarette, offering one to Tess.

"I complain, but you should have seen him when I got him," he says, watching a group of jet skiers out in the surf, riding the waves and throwing grenades at one another. "I actually thought he was deaf."

[have_no_mercy]

She takes her shoes off again and follows him onto the beach, a wary eye on the jet skiers and their weapons.

Waving off the cigarette, "I can only imagine with how he was treated. He's young enough that he may not remember most of it."

[cottoncandypink]

The jet skiers stay where they belong, and are far enough out on the low tide that one of them would have to be a major league pitcher for their grenades to reach Tess and Wilford.

"Here's hoping," Wilford says. "But kids are off-limits. How fucked up do you have to be?"

Wilford knows he's a selfish prick. He never does anything unless it benefits him somehow. But there are lines you do not cross.

"She better hope she doesn't get parole, because she's not going to live long enough to enjoy it." There isn't even a hint of exaggeration to his voice. He's probably never not going to be angry about this.

[have_no_mercy]

She doesn't say anything for a long few minutes.

"I never got to kill my dad, but I sure as hell thought about it." She glances over at him. "You've got the money, keep her in jail."

[cottoncandypink]

"I've spent my entire life putting people like her in jail. And now it's my own fucking kid."

The irony is not lost on him.

[have_no_mercy]

"There's no telling how your kids are going to turn out. Especially if you're not that present in their lives."

She lifts her chin a little, looking out toward the water again.

"Why weren't you in hers?"

[cottoncandypink]

Wilford takes a drink of his beer, still watching the jet skiers.

"Didn't know about her. I was fourteen, and kind of a shithead."

'Kind of' is an understatement.

"She doesn't know who her father is, and I'm having the kid's name changed so she can't track him down when she figures out he's not where he's supposed to be."

He shrugs. There's no changing it now, so he's just going to do what he can.

[have_no_mercy]

"Fourteen? Jesus."

She can't imagine ever being able to have looked after a child at that age.

"Have you got him legally?" Above board or otherwise, she means.

[cottoncandypink]

"Oh, yeah. She ain't getting him back." Wilford is going to make goddamn sure of it.

The problem with jet skis and grenades (and what may or may not be a rocket launcher?) is that it's hard to hear much else that's going on further down the beach. They're close enough to the pier that they should be able to hear the roller coaster, but it's all blending into the same continuous noise.

"They don't tend to let violent felons keep many rights. The state took him, and put him with his grandmother, but she didn't want him either and was going to put him in the system."

So now Wilford has him, and has no idea what to do with him.

[have_no_mercy]

There's more noise than she's used to, but it's slowly becoming normal.

She nods.

"Are you going to tell him when he's older?"