Or Forever Hold Your Peace

Closure

Stanley and Stanford had been through a lot together as children, then teenagers, then as old men, each with their own story to tell and decades of time to make up for. If they were to look back upon everything they've experienced, then they'd be sure that the last two months had more than settled the debt in terms of danger- but not for the sheer thrill of adventure. 

Their plans had been carefully thought out, budgeted, and then finalized- and now, two weeks before they were due to leave and fulfill their childhood dreams, they took a trip to the place where it all began.

Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey, was different than the twins remembered. Neither of them were all that surprised- that's what the passage of time does, after all. The boardwalk was shockingly similar to the way it was in the sixties- the only difference, it seemed, was the stores located there. Only a handful of places from their childhood still stood, like Daffy's Taffy and Buster's Construction. What really marked the change, however, was their father's old pawn shop- it was boarded over and derelict, as if nobody had wanted to rent the building out after the place closed.

Neither of them could find fault in that. Nobody in their right mind would want to own a place after Filbrick, especially if they knew the kind of man that he was. Cold, stubborn as a mule, and as immovable as a brick wall. He had a natural tendency to act first, think later- especially in a bout of anger, which he was terribly prone to. Stan and Ford found this out the hard way as children.

Their eyes lingered just a moment longer on the rundown building before they continued on their way. As they weaved through the crowd, a thought occurred to Ford. He spared a glance back at his brother, making sure he was following him, before addressing his idea.

"Do you think we should visit them?" Stan's face shifted from neutral to a bit confused.

"Visit who?"

"Our parents. I'm assuming you know where they're buried," he said. He hoped that Stan knew because he certainly didn't. He wasn't exactly in town for the funerals.

"Yeah, they're in the local cemetery, I'm pretty sure, but-"

He cut off in mild surprise when Ford gripped his wrist and ducked into a store. It didn't take long to figure out that he had gone into a joke shop- one of his personal favorites as a child. It was under new management, of course, but the place seemed very similar to how he remembered it. It brought a warm wave of nostalgia for the days he knew he would never get back.

"Did you ever visit them at all?" Ford's voice wasn't hard, per se, but it definitely had an odd edge to it. Stan felt a spark of indignation at his tone, and his voice may or may not have had a tinge of bitterness when he replied.

"Why would I? I wasn't welcome back in the family until I made the millions that I cost them. They'd roll over in their graves if I did- or at least, Pa would have."

Ford's demeanor softened and his eyes lost their firmness as the validity of the statement hit him. He laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, and his voice was noticeably gentler when Stan heard it again.

"I think we should visit them, at least just this once. It'll give us both a bit of closure that we may have not realized we needed."

Stan couldn't find anything wrong with that statement, but the idea of seeing his parent's graves was just unsettling. He couldn't quite place it, but he was fairly sure it was due to what happened as a teenager. Other than the widespread discomfort that came with that, he couldn't see an arguable reason not to. Ford seemed to want to go anyway, and Stan's already cost him so many opportunities and chances in his life- why would he deny him this as well?

"Yeah, okay," he said, his tone forcibly casual, "let's go." Ford seemed relieved that Stan was agreeing to go, and the younger brother not-so-gently squashed down any discomfort he had in favor of doing what his brother wanted for a change, instead of the other way around.