Phoenix Rising

3. Final Nesting Place of Phoenix Faust

Phoenix shut the top of his suitcase and zipped it around. This was it; the last day he would have a room in a house with all the comforts of home. A new life awaited him, one he dreaded to be a part of now more than ever. He subconsciously slipped the stopwatch inside the pocket.

It made him remember something his dad used to tell him, though any memory about either of his parents brought a sour taste to his mouth. If you don't know the future, don't rede the past. It was among other phrases like If two half-wits get married, would their child be a full wit? so his 'wisdom' was never relied on by Phoenix.

His expression twisted at the thought of Lowell Faust, so instead he thought of things that made him hopeful, as his counselor told him. Farthing. No that was dreadful to think about. He had no idea how he'd be treated after what happened. It tore him up going back. What were the chances that his parents made friends in the town he lost it all? His happiness, his best friend. Frey. There it was; that spiral of emotion coiling up his chest. Excitement, anxiety, a mix of both. He didn't know what to do with it. For the most part, he was thrilled to see her again. Hug her tiny frame, smell her floral and gingerbread scent, binge watch movies again...

Walt's heavy footsteps came down the hallway.
"You all set?"

"Yes, happy?" Phoenix burst out, his heart hammering against his chest. Frey. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I was just thinking about, well, everything."

"It's alright, I understand. I tried to reason with the Rouillards but there was nothing I could say that could legally change anything." He rested his hand on Phoenix's shoulder, a kind gesture that had become typical and tolerated by Phoenix. "I want you to know the offer I made still stands. Our door will always be open if you decide to come back." A subtle nod from was the indicator he'd heard him.

The foyer felt darker than usual. Once he'd gotten used to the dimness of the space and the vintage everything (from the ceiling fan to the doilies), the place grew on him. The thought of leaving it all made it much easier to be spiteful. Those asshats will have hell to pay.

When they made it to the bus station, Phoenix was hoping it would be a clean cut. No bleeding, no suffering, just a quick and easy death. But Margaret Keller was not a considerate killer.

"Oh, Phoens!" She cried and pulled him into a hug, ignoring how he stiffened slightly. Margaret pulled back, wiping the back of her forefinger along the bottom of her eye. "We're going to miss you. Call every night to let us know how you're doing, okay?"

Behind her, Walt shook his head. "He doesn't have to do that, Mar. How about Friday nights? So she can pester you about your week instead."

A bitter almost-smile crept onto his lips. "Yeah, sure. I'll try to remember."

After one last hug from Margaret and a wave from Walt, Phoenix boarded the three o'clock bus to Farthing and his new-old life.

○ ○ ○

It's only five. There was plenty of time to find out where 245 Old Farthing Road was. But most importantly, he had at least a couple hours to avoid meeting his new guardians, Marco and Lucinda. At the first stop, he slipped out among two old women and a guy not much older than him, but ten times scummier. The stench coming off him brought bile to Phoenix's throat.

Just off the feter, Farthing's deteriorating one-story shopping mall stood proud, with Texan and American flags billowing lamely in the exhaust-heat-parading-as-wind breeze. Freedom. He thought, Maybe that's what I can get here. And off he went in search of air conditioning and employment.