ALPHABET SOUP (01)

T

is for
✧ 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 ✧

His jacket was slung over his shoulder, shades in the frocket of his beige uniform, and his hands were holding his hips, looking down at the cerulean teenager. Sonic's ripped backpack that was once a happy vermillion was beside his leg and he was wearing the old pair of mismatched shoes that were duct taped. This offended Tom, having thought those shoes were long gone, but he said nothing on the subject, tilting his head.

"I see you went dumpster diving today." He managed a smile.

At the sound of his voice, Sonic turned to face his human friend for a moment. "Just for old time's sake," the boy replied rather quietly, avoiding direct eye contact.

The treasure the boy had found was a tricycle, an old, broken three-wheeled means of travel, with bent handlebars; clearly, it had seen better days, but the pretty pink paint was still holding on. The silver areas were all rusted to hell and tiny sparks of dry-rotted plastic poked from the handlebars, indicating there had been tassels at some point. The basket in the front was also dry-rotted and crumbling, the color of mustard for the bright lemon yellow lost the battle against the elements.

"Nothin' wrong with that," groaned the Donut Lord as he stepped up on the porch, popping a squat next to Sonic. "What made you pick this?"

"Um," Sonic's cheeks were sprinkled red as he shied away. There was a pause, an uncomfortable one.  "Well, I..." He stumbled over his words and his shoulders hunched as if he was cringing. "I thought... maybe I... Never mind," Sonic grabbed his bag and jumped to his feet before he sprinted into the house, leaving Tom perplexed and alone on the doorstep.

With a sigh, Tom examined the old thing, and carefully, he brought it over to his lap. It seemed a size too small for the three-foot boy. He ran his fingers over the struggling paint, and he too, jumped to his feet, trekking to the garage. He sat the trike on the floor with a huff as his palm met his forehead, his mood darkened.

I wish it wasn't so hard for him to open up, he thought. If he wants a bike, he should say, but I get it. Ten years... His train of thought couldn't even continue, slowing down to a stop at the horror he chose to never think about; he hurt him to even try and imagine what the child went through, stalking him and his wife.

Sonic knew both their birthdays and their wedding anniversary. He knew the date they adopted Ozzie five years ago. He knew their favorite movies, colors, and food—all as if he were their child all along.

Tom left the garage with a look of stone and hurried inside the house to change out of his uniform, giving Maddie a quick kiss as he passed her by. Usually, the husband and his wife had a conversation after work, but upon seeing the look in her husband's eyes, Maddie said nothing after her greeting. Pretzel Lady saw the pain in her husband's eyes and reminded him as he headed to the bedroom how much she loved him; he replied back with a thick sigh of dejection, but he managed a genuine smile.

Then, Maddie's gaze went to the attic stairs, where only moments ago, her one and only child had quickly gone up, and not in quick excitement that was a zip up the steps followed by something breaking, which was accompanied by the humans scolding him for running in the house for the millionth time. No, it appeared something was wrong.

It had been awhile since Sonic had displayed negative "vibes" (as they all agreed to dub it). The boy had been very careful about his feelings ever since he moved in. Sure, there were vulnerable Sonic moments, but he was open about certain things. The current moment was a closed topic Maddie wanted to open.