The Land Of Fools

6

6

    "Peter?" Meeko asked, cautiously, as she began to approach him upon seeing the tears streaming down her face. 

    He began to shake his head, his hands pressing against his ears. Images of Talon's small figure flashed in his mind . . . the smile that was always on his lips, the laughter that escaped when he was with Peter . . . He couldn't forget, he wouldn't forget the times he had with Talon.

    "Peter?" Meeko repeated, carefully prying his hands away from his ears. "Tell me what's wrong."

  But Peter couldn't hear her, his mind lingered in a bitter sweet place where Meeko didn't exist.

  Peter had never been happier, he realized, as he felt the boy's small fist caught in his own. Of course, before Talon, he hadn't necessarily had an opportunity to be happy, but still . . . Talon had given Peter anything he could've ever possibly wanted or needed.

    "I want to jump to that one!" Talon told him, pointing to the tall building opposing them.

    Peter knew that Talon was a master at jumping, not perfect but still wonderful.

"Whatever you want."

 Talon tugged on his hand, pulling him to the edge. "Watch me, Peter!"

  Peter grinned at the energetic child, agreeing to his condition. He watched eagerly as the boy let go of his hand and prepared to jump.

    Before Talon jumped, Peter always had this feeling of anxiety. He was constantly worried that something would happen to his friend, his ally. And if something did, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. So, he watched with rising anxiety as Talon leaped forward, landing somewhat clumsily on the other side.

     "Did you see that, Peter?" Talon asked as he grinned eagerly. "Peter?"

  "Peter?!"

 Peter opened his eyes to see Meeko, hovering over his face. He gazed into her eyes, staring into the hazel depths which he adored so deeply. But his mind kept flickering to Talon, he was unable to avoid facing the past anymore.

   "Talon," he murmured.

  "What?" Meeko questioned.

  "My reason," he confirmed. "My reason is Talon."

  "What . . . Talon?"

      "Talon. He's . . . he's my creator," Peter told her.

   "Creator? Like your . . . dad?"

          Peter shook his head, sitting up and crossing his legs; Caretaker flew onto his lap, knowing the topic was hard for him to discuss. "Not quite. Talon was . . . well, he was abused. He was abused really badly at home, that poor boy, ever since he was able to walk. The boy, after a rather severe beating, couldn't find any worthy stars to wish upon, so he looked at the mother of them: the moon. He wished for an escape, he wished for little old me. What he didn't know was that he didn't wish on the moon, he wished on the worthy of all stars, the second to the right. And-"

    "And you came straight in the morning?" Meeko asked, teasing, remembering the quote from the children story.

     "I did, actually," he told her, detecting her mocking tone.

     "Impossible," Meeko insisted, immediately.    

Peter chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, but it is, I'm living proof. The morning -although it seemed like night, since the moon hadn't gone to bed yet- after the little boy's wish, I shyly came to his window; I was much smaller then, my body matched his age. My eyes peaked into the window, Caretaker -although still a chick- was by my side and I saw him. He was in his room, turning pages in a book regardless of the hour, when the wind blew against my back and the moon's light illuminated the spot I was on. I knocked on the window."