Return of the Titans

CHAPTER NINE

I knew that it was Doc, and he knew it, too.

I saw acknowledgement glaze his eyes when he and I locked eyes, but he didn't answer back. Instead, he looked at me with annoyance, as if I had just barged into his home and made a mess while in it. Now, he had to clean it up and wasn't too happy about it.

And was it me, or had he grown since the last time I saw him? I knew already that he was five-seven, maybe five-eight on a good day. But now the man looked like he was a full six feet and growing the longer I stared at him.

Doc stuffed his hands into the pockets of his powder-blue jumpsuit. His light eyes wandered over toward a cowering Jay. "What seems to be the problem here, Mister Hun?"

It sounded so weird to hear the voice of the man I knew and trusted come out of a stranger's mouth. I felt like shaking him to remind him that it was me -- Frankie. His doughnut buddy, remember?

Jay couldn't properly answer. He was shaking far too much and had found sudden interest in the tips of his sneakers. His fingers twitched uncontrollably at his hips.

Doc quirked a brow. "I see. Does anyone else have anything to say?" he called out, turning to face the assembly.

Deafening silence.

The man nodded. "Then you may get to class."

His decree was met with a near-stampede as kids hurried away, desperate to get out of his line of sight. Pretty Boy stepped forward to shove past me, eyeing Jay cockily. He mouthed the words, You're dead, before disappearing into the sea of children.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Doc. "Follow me," was all he said, and directed me out of the wing.

The gardens weren't as chaotic as the courtyards nor the hallways. A few kids that didn't want to walk from wing-to-wing crossed the open yard with their backpacks and satchels drooping from their shoulders. They, too, hurried along, passing brisk glances or nods in our direction.

Doc was silent the walk there. His hand didn't leave my shoulder. It felt like a stone as he lead me through a maze of more marble statues and decorative plants. Once we came to a secluded section of the gardens, he pointed toward a low stone bench.

I took it as my chance to break the awkward silence. "What's going on?"

"I already told you that."

"Don't play with me, man. I almost got my head chopped off, and that's not including Electro Boy and his issues."

Doc chuckled, teeth glittering like pearls in the sunlight. "Dearest Frankie. Still picking fights."

"Who are you?" I didn't mean for my tone to come off as vindictive as it did, but I didn't take too kindly with how he treated me. He acted like I was nobody but some stupid kid, among others. It reminded me too much of the people that I begged to for help, and all they did was wrinkle their nose and wave me off.

I was beyond hurt. And although I didn't wish ill on him, I wanted Doc to see and know that.

His shoulders sagged in dejection. "Frankie, I --"

I held up a hand. "Jay, that kid? He called you Headmaster. Are you in charge of this place?"

"I am who I am," the man said.

I grunted, arms folding. Doc opened his palms at my rejection. "It is the truth. Perhaps I am not the vision of what you perceived me to be, but I am the same man. I am Final Resting Place's mortician, and I am still your friend."

Somewhere deep in my conscious, a switch was flipped My eyes shot open and I whirled onto him, a finger jabbing accusingly at his chest. "What do you know of friendship?" I spat. "Friends don't keep secrets from each other. Friends don't claim to be someone they're not. And now you're here, in charge of a school for -- for -- for freaks!"