Who is Julie McDuck?!

A Real Family

I waited anxiously for the limo to reach McDuck Manor, and solemnly walked out when it did. Mrs. Beakley was waiting for us at the front door.

"I got your call, Mr. McDuck; what's the emergency?"

"Julie's...friend ran away, and we need help finding him."

Mrs. Beakley's eyes widened and she nodded. "What does he look like?"

"5'11", dirty blond hair that covers his left eye, brown eyes, and he was wearing a light blue button-up shirt when we last saw him," I answered. Uncle Scrooge looked at me in astonishment. "What? She asked."

"I'll help you look for the boy, Scrooge," she announced, walking towards the limo. I looked at the ground.

"Um, Launchpad? Could you and Beakley drive around the town and look for Cole? I need to have a word with Julie," Uncle Scrooge said, eyeing me. I felt my knees buckle.

"Alright, Mr. McD!" Launchpad said, giving him a salute before the limo sped off. I sat down on the couch, burying my head in my hands with a groan.

I felt the couch dip as my uncle sat down next to me. "Lass, I'm so sorry," he said. "I didnae mean to chase your friend off like that. I just-"

"You just what?"

"I saw of bit of me in ya when you were with him. And, since I thought Goldie and Cole were related, I-didn't want you ta get back-stabbed by him like she did to me. I've told you the story of the Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains, right, lass?"

I nodded.

"Well, there was one part I left out on purpose. After we got frozen in the ice, it took five years for us to thaw. But, in that half-decade, our hatred for each other turned into something else. When Goldie finally got free, she had the chance to free me, but she left me behind instead," he explained, looking down at his hands.

"So...you do understand," I said slowly, putting a hand to my beak where Cole had kissed me. "You loved her, and she broke your heart."

"Aye; when she showed up at the gala, I wasn't exactly thrilled to see her after she left me for dead."

There was a pause.

"Why didn't you tell me about your friend?" Uncle Scrooge asked, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I-I didn't tell you because I thought you'd think we were...not just friends. And, since he lives with Goldie now, I thought you'd think he was just like her: a back-stabber. Turns out I was right. He might share some traits with her, but...they're not related. Not by blood, anyway."

"How'd Goldie end up with him?"

I sighed. "This conversation does not leave this room," I said seriously.

He nodded.

"Cole...didn't have the best family life growing up. His mother died when he was young, and he grew up in a home with an abusive father and a younger sister who depended on him. His dad was a jerk to him; whenever I came over to his house, we'd find broken beer bottles on the floor. And then...the Duckburg police department found out."

"H-he said he was dragged away from his little sister and put in a foster home. Goldie must've adopted him from there. He still has a few signs that he was hurt by his dad; he cries when he hears loud noises, and he hates to be touched by people he doesn't know."

"So that's why he started shaking when I poked him with my cane," Scrooge sighed, looking guilty. "It sent him back to when his father hurt him."

He turned to me. "Lass, do you-"

Launchpad opened the door to reveal Mrs. Beakley with an unconscious boy in her arms. His hair covered his eyes, his shirt was torn and dirty, and he had several cuts and bruises covering his body.

My uncle and I got off the couch so that Beakley could lay Cole down on it. He groaned and rubbed a giant bruise on his head.

"Where'd you find him, Mrs. B?" Donald asked, a concerned look on his face.

"By a house near St. Canard," she answered. "He looked like he'd been thrown out of it when I finally got to him."

Thrown out? St. Canard? Oh, no. I parted Cole's dirty blond hair to see his brown eyes flicker open.

"Hey, Jules; how's it goin-ugh, ow!" he groaned, grabbing his forehead where the bruise was. Mrs. Beakley gently pushed him down onto the couch.

"You're in no condition to go anywhere, young man," she said firmly.

"And YOU aren't my mom," he sassed.

"Cole, who did this to you?" I asked, putting a hand on his.

Cole blushed at my touch and opened his mouth, but no words came out. He spotted my great-uncle and grabbed his stomach where Scrooge had poked him with his cane hours ago.

"I-I can't tell you! He said he'd do worse if I said anything!" he blurted out.

"Was it your dad again?"

All color drained from Cole's face as he nodded. He then grabbed me by the collar of my dress.

"I can't do this anymore, Julie! I went back to the h-house to see if I could find anything to get him thrown into jail, and the next thing I know, I'm face-down on the ground after being hit by a beer bottle! I could barely hold him back before Mrs. Beakley showed up!"

He paused before his face contorted into an angry glare. "Why do you guys even care about me, anyway?! Julie's yours, I'm not!"

Donald gave him a soft gaze. "Because you're family."

"Donald's right, lad; you're Julie's friend, maybe more," Uncle Scrooge agreed. "And no one messes with my family."

"So Julie told you?"

"I asked her, lad; she wants you to be safe."

"She shouldn't have to protect me; I can do it myself!"

"Cole, just listen to us-" I said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU, GRACE?!" he shouted before slapping a hand over his beak.

I pulled my hand back, and hugged him. I felt his tears soak into the back of my dress.

"Tha thu ga hionndrainn, nach eil?" I asked. (Translation: You miss her, don't you?)

"Tha," he responded quietly. (Translation: Yes.)

I smiled, remembering all the times we'd used Scottish Gaelic to communicate like a secret language that no one else knew (well, except maybe Uncle Scrooge).

Scrooge cleared his throat. "Well, I'm going to call Goldie and tell her we found ya," he said, pulling out his phone. "And, Cole, if ya ever need a place to stay, you can always stay here."

"Thanks, Mr. McDuck."