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Chapter 20 - Lost and Found

Running.

That was about all I could do anymore.

I couldn't fight, I couldn't talk my way out of this, I couldn't lean on my friends. I was alone now and all I could do was run. I made sure to be indirect, turning down streets, down alleys, over bridges, following carriages, hopping on one at some point and then getting off it and running some more. I didn't want to stop because when I stopped I had to think and thinking hurt right now. If I kept moving, kept running, I could outrun the pain and the fear. If I kept running he couldn't still find me.

I pushed myself more than I had in a long while, up until the point my chest burned and I was coughing. I stopped for some water, having paid with some of the money still in my pockets, and drank it down greedily. I looked around to where I was and had no idea. I think I was near the Thames, that big river serving as the artery of this country. I walked a little ways and found a bench that overlooked the docks. With a sigh I sat down, hanging my head forward as I caught my breath.

I could see it still. That horrible grin, the way he moved so gracefully and with such purpose, the way he killed Bensley... it made me shiver and snap out of my memories. I looked up and swallowed, wiping my brow with the back of my hand.

"What the hell do I do...?" I muttered aloud, just needing to hear something other than my heart pounding between me ears. I know what Gideon wanted me to do, I know what I had to do, but how the hell do I do it?!

I didn't have enough money for a ticket to America. If I sold my tools, I could maybe find passage on an old ship, but it was dangerous sailing even on a decent ship. I didn't want to die out to sea because I was poor. At the same time, I knew that if I stayed here, I would be no better. I couldn't go home -- for various reasons. One was that Duncan was still there and he had made it clear I was not his favorite chimney sweep. If I went back, I would be punished, probably beaten within an inch of my life. I couldn't get out of his grip when he held me last time -- the badger was deceptively strong.

The other reason was that Jack... Mordecai, he knew who I was now. He knew who Avery was and our relationship. He would have no trouble figuring out my home and coming for me. I chuckled darkly as I imagined doing just that and Duncan getting in the way and dying by those claws of his...but I was never _that_lucky. God blessed me with wits, charm, and a nice arse. He had never once told me I would be a lucky boy. It was why I generally didn't press my luck too much -- you had to know when to walk away.

When my mind fell on Gideon, my heart sank and my stomach flipped upside down. I felt the water in my belly bubble up and my hand came over, trying to hold it back... and it took all my willpower not to throw up. When my stomach settled I gasped, crying. I could see droplets fall onto the stones below and between my feet.

Why did this have to happen? Why did this have to happen to Gideon too? Gideon had always been there for me, much like Avery, but Gideon was also someone I loved more than just family. I felt safe with him and his strength was like a warm blanket. But now... was he dead? Did he get away? Did Mordecai kill him?

All these dark thoughts and images ran through my mind, seeing my friend dead on the marble floor with a stab wound in his stomach, or cut to pieces, or Mordecai wearing his fur as a cloak of some kind... horrible images I couldn't make go away even if I clenched my eyes closed.

When I forced my mind away from the horror that may be Gideon, despair took me like a spectre in the night. All at once I felt empty and cold. I thought about my task, getting to America, and all of a sudden, I didn't want to. What was the point? What would I do there? Gideon was supposed to help me understand New York City -- I didn't know anyone there, I didn't even know if they had chimneys... and I was getting too big for the job anyway. Would I cross the sea just to die in some strange land?

I looked around and felt a weird resignation settle in my mind.

I could die here. I could end it all.

I wouldn't have to worry about Mordecai any longer. Spring Heeled Jack wouldn't be chasing me since there would be nothing to chase. I wouldn't feel these things I felt now. I wouldn't regret so much and miss so many people. I could be with them again, God permitting. I could see Avery, love Gideon, be fathered by Bensley... maybe I could even meet my parents -- if they were dead, that is.

But how to do it...? I looked over at the docks and had an idea. I could see the boats moored against stonework. Sometimes they bumped hard against the walls. Anything, or anyone, between the ship and the wall would be crushed. I could do it that way. It would look like an accident. A stupid kid getting too close to the ship and slipped in on the wet stones. I'm sure it happened a bunch of times before.

I was tired of hurting and I was tired of running. I sighed heavily and put my hands between my knees, closing my eyes as I prayed. I was not terribly religious, but I believed in God... and I believed that if I did this I would not be in his best standing... but I prayed he understood why I hurt so much and why I needed to stop it.

I had never been in such a dark place before. I had always thought I could get through anything -- I climbed up burning chimneys on a daily basis, I watched co-workers die, I knew that death was always near me... but when it didn't come for my life, and just those around me, I didn't think it could be worse than that. I had heard Bensley once say that 'there are plenty of fates worse than death, my boy,' and I know what he meant now, that living with pain is so much harder because you can't just stop hurting. I had never cried this much in my life, I had never hurt this much for such a long period of time. I had no one to lean against and no one to help carry me the rest of the way. What the hell was I supposed to do?

Would death be the answer? It would stop hurting. No one would miss me. But that isn't entirely true, either. I had no idea what happened to Gideon. He could be alive and he could meet me in New York City. If I killed myself before that, all I would be doing is pushing all my hurt onto him. He may end up feeling guilty because he wasn't there for me when I needed him.

I was staring at the ground between my feet, just feeling the breeze from the river blow over my fur. I wanted to sleep. I wanted everything to just stop. But I also knew I couldn't just sit here on this bench hoping for the pain to stop.

I felt someone sit next to me. I didn't bother looking up. I could see two feet near my own -- bigger, longer, some adult. The fur there was dark. Another fox, or some kind of footed ferret. I was about to stand when they spoke.

"You've never been a quitter, Simon. Why are you thinking about ending your story before you're done? That isn't you." The voice was... warm. Familiar.

My heart skipped a beat and I looked up at the man sitting next to me.

He was a fox, like me, but red. He was wearing a tattered but well maintained suit, you could really only tell its age by the frays along the hemline. On his head was an equally old tophat that had seen plenty of better days, but the face... the face was someone I had never expected to see again.

"A...Alister...?"

The man, the ghost, the angel... whatever it was, looked down at me with a sad and knowing smile. "Surprised to see me? You aren't one to be surprised, either."

In that instant I threw myself at the fox... and felt solid. I could furl my fingers into his clothes, hold his fur, push my face against his chest. I sobbed into his chest hard, rubbing my face into him, breathing in his scent. I held on so tightly. He was real...!

Alister didn't flinch away. He slowly curled his arms around me and held me. I could feel him curl downwards and wrap me in one of his hugs. I hadn't had one of these hugs in so many years. When I was a pup and sad, he would hug us like this. He always made us feel like we were safe with him. He never broke that promise. Not until he died.

All at once, the emotional dam I had built broke down and I sobbed. I wailed loudly, holding onto him, pulling him closer, emotions roiling within me that I couldn't describe. Anger, sadness, happiness, fear, worry, wonder, confusion. It all came out in one torrential wave in a way I've never been able to express before.

And for his credit, Alister, or whatever this was, held me. He had his muzzle near one of my ears and made soft sounds, even rocking me a little bit. He just held me as it all came out. This man was as close to a father as I ever had... and I wasn't even there for him when he died. I had felt so guilty to not be there, as well as not take over his business. I kept saying things like 'I'm sorry' or 'How?' and he didn't stop me. He held me until the flood of emotions slowed down a bit. He rubbed his palm on my cheek and tilted my head back.

"I always knew you had this," he said, rubbing his thumb over the edge of the white mark over my eye. "The sisters told me when you were just a little thing. They said you were teased about it and you started hiding it with soot. You called it dust at the time. I never brought it up because when you came to me you were like a bright spark. I should have made an effort to let you know that you never had anything to hide from me or anyone."

I sniffled and rubbed my face near my white patch. It was true, I hated it. I had a bully pick on me when I was very young. He even punched me and said 'Aw look! Maybe now that I gave ye a black eye you'll look normal!' so I hid it. Avery knew, but he just never cared about it. Oh Avery...

"Alister... how are you here...?" I managed to say, feeling fresh tears roll down my face. I held him so tightly, worried that the question would drive him away somehow.

"Simon," he said, leaning his muzzle down and kissing me between my ears, "I failed you. I let something so evil get so close to you. I know you'll say I was never aware, I was sick, but... it is what fathers do for their sons. When you got a little older, I was planning to adopt you, you know. There're some papers under a floorboard in my old bedroom for it. But I wanted to wait until you were too big to work the chimneys so the other boys wouldn't give you such a hard time."

"W...What?" I said, swallowing hard. "M...Me? But I'm just..."

"Simon," Alister said with such sadness in his voice. "I know that is not a possibility anymore. I died because of a disease. I died due to something that kills thousands all across this country. I regret so much that my body was weak and failed you when you most needed me. I don't know what more I could have done in the fight with this... creature, but I would have been there for you. You should have never been required to carry so much burden and so much pain. Please forgive me, Simon."

"I don't... I don't blame you! You were always good to me -- to us! You... you didn't fail me. You never failed me, Alister." I sniffled harder and rubbed my nose with the back of my palm. I was smiling. "How...how are you here?" I repeated.

Alister frowned and sighed. "I do not know much about it myself. But I felt your hurt and I had to come. I felt you were considering crossing the barriers between the living and the dead... and that brought me here. I don't know how long I have, but I was given this last gift to see you. But I have been watching you, oh my boy, I have watched you so closely. I am so sorry about everything you've had to go through."

"It's not your fault..." I said, swallowing. My face was sore. It hurt. Crying made me so tired.

"Listen to me, Simon," Alister said and put his hands on my shoulder. "That... thing is still out there, in London. But so is Gideon. I do not know more than that. But if you get up from this bench and walk back into town, Mordecai will find you. I do not know what he will do to you, but he has nothing good planned, that much I know."

"But," he continued, "if you decide to follow the promise you made to Gideon, you still have a chance at a happy life. It will be so hard, Simon. I won't deny you the truth. You have trials ahead that I cannot speak about, but I know that, if you be the man I know you are, you will become so much greater than you already are. So many people love you, even if it's just little bits and pieces. The people who know your name all love the light you bring to them."

"But so many have died..." I said quietly, looking down at my hands.

"Death is a part of life, Simon. You know that. You've just never had to experience it when someone you cared about died. It will happen again as you get older... and I wish I could tell you it gets easier. But you are so strong, stronger than you even know. Each time you have a hardship you become more of the man I know you are meant to become."

"If... I decided to live..." I said, letting the words hang. I could feel Alister's disapproving gaze on me. I guess even the dead never lost their personality traits.

"Yes, Simon," the elder fox said with a dramatic sigh, "I will always be watching you. I cannot say I will appear like this again. I still do not entirely know how I am here. But I will be watching you and doing everything I can to guide you. You are never alone. So please... don't give up. Don't like this monster win."

"A...All right." I swallowed hard. "I don't even know what to do next. I don't know how to get to New York City even... but... if you say that's what I should do... well, you're the boss." I said with a forced smile.

"Good boy," he said, putting a hand on the back of my neck. He pet the back of my skull and had me look down at my feet once more. "But right now you need to sleep. You are safe, I will be here... but sleep, Simon. Sleep... and know I love you so much, the son I had in all but blood. Sleep..."

I felt the blackness close around me. It was a weird feeling of falling asleep like that... but It was needed. I had no idea for how long I was out, but when I woke up, my back was stiff. I groaned and slowly sat up on the bench, my back popping. I looked around but didn't see Alister... had it been a dream?

No. It wasn't. Don't ask me how I knew that, I can't tell you. But a feeling deep in my heart said he had really come and talked to me. I was blessed.

I found the strength to stand up on two feet. With a shaking breath I turned and walked down the road toward the river. I had to follow through and leave London.

---

The dockyards were not a place I often visited. I generally had no business here, what with all the cargo, sailors, and the fish smell covering everything. No one really needed a chimney sweep in this area anyway... so I was as lost as someone my age could be.

It took me a while to find a ship. I avoided the Navy ships, I did not want to be part of the Royal Navy and be stuck on a boat for Lord knows how long, sailing from one backwater port to the other, or getting me head blown off by a cannonball. So that meant merchant ships... I didn't have enough money to buy a ticket and I heard if you went for the poorer rates you may as well have expected death anyway.

It was getting toward the evening when I found a large ship. With so many decks high, it spiked with rigging and sails like a forest, and the ropes interconnected them like a complex spiderweb. I looked up and felt a little dizzy. I was not someone afraid of heights but this was playing with fire, so to speak. I had asked a calm rat about any ship sailing to New York City who was looking for crew members, and I had been pointed out to this large vessel, the _Parthenon. _All at once I could tell something was odd about this ship. I had looked at ships all afternoon and most of the men looked to be... I don't know how else to say this, but they looked all the same. Either they wore a sash or a braid of some kind, but this lot... the men looked all out of place. All out of sorts. And there were a lot of them coming and going, hauling cargo onto the ship -- massive barrels and boxes, livestock... it was incredible just how much could fit on the ship.

Standing near one of the gangways was a tall coati wearing trousers, a loose shirt and jacket and holding some book in his hands. He was shouting over people and pointing them left and right, directing them into the ship. This wouldn't be the captain, but he was in charge of everything that would go on in the ship, such as the hiring of new crewmembers.

I sighed softly and walked up to him, clearing my throat when he didn't notice me right away. Golden eyes peered down briefly before flicking back to his book. "I don't have any money kid, you best be on your way before you beg the wrong bloke and get yourself a bruise for ye trouble."

"I ain't begging for coin, sir," I said with my ears flattening and a scowl. "I don't beg for money. Ain't proper."

"Then what?" the man said with a dramatic sigh and looked down at me with a more bored expression than myself in church. "You looking for your papa? Sorry kid, no black or... white foxes onboard. 'Sides, ain't no one going to admit they're a port bastard's sire."

I frowned. "N...No. Not that either! I came here because I heard from a gentleman up the ways that you were hirin' on, and sailing to New York City."

"Aye that I am," the coati said, flipping the page to his book. "But I'm hirin' men, not boys so young they don't know what to do when a woman spreads her legs."

"I'm not that young," I scowled, hearing some of the nearby men laugh at my expense. Sailors were a weird lot, all right. But if I backed down now, I would never get onboard. For some reason, I felt that Mordecai could even be close. I had to get onboard.

"Well now," the coati said with a more amused grin. "You only look like a whelp then. Why do you want to work on-board our ship here?"

"You're sailing to New York City. I want to work my fare across the ocean."

"Can't pay your way to get away yer troubles in jolly old London, eh? Down on yer luck, are ya?" the coati said with a slow exhale. "Bless me bleedin' heart, but convince me, boyo, what can ye do on a ship like this?"

"I...I don't know." I paused for a moment. "But I work hard. I'm a journeyman chimney sweep, and I ain't afraid of heights. I'm a quick worker and I pick up things fast. You want me to work from dawn till dusk and not bat an eye, I can do it. I just need a place to lay me head and some food."

The coati stared at me, pondering. "You know, living aboard a ship ain't easy, kid. Lots of hard work, sometimes storms. You could fall overboard. Eaten by sharks. You sure you got the balls to do the work? 'Cause once we set sail, you pull your own weight. And if you don't, you don't eat."

I shifted where I stood, a feeling of unknown washing over me like the waves from the sea. I swallowed and looked up at the man. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. I ain't perfect. But I know I can work hard, and if someone shows me what to do I'll do it. You just give me a shot and I promise you won't regret it, sir."

The coati looked down at me for a long while, drumming his short claws along the back of his book as he considered his options. I was a gamble for sure. I wasn't going to be someone who could haul heavy cargo or move mountains, but I was a good worker. I looked at him with unblinking eyes, and he flipped some pages to the back of his book. "All right," he said finally and wrote something on the pages.

"W...What?" I couldn't keep the stammer from my voice.

"I said yer hired. You get a fair wage. But I am serious, lad. Working out at sea is tougher 'n you think. Especially if you never done it before... and don't lie to me and say ye have. Can ye even swim?"

"N... Not that well," I admitted.

"Good!" The man slapped me on the back with a chuckle. "Most of us can't. Better that way, ye know. If ye fall overboard, you won't suffer as long."

"What?!" I said, feeling myself pushed toward the gangway. "I don't... what?! What am I even going to be doing on-board?"

"I'm makin' you the Cap'n's cabin boy," the coati said. "He'll tell you yer duties. Just get aboard and ask someone directions to his cabin. Oh... What's your name?"

"Simon," I said after a long pause. "Simon King."

I don't know why, but I felt like hiding myself with a fake name would be insulting to Alister, Avery, and everyone else who I loved here. It was the oldest thing I owned, after all. I touched the white mark on my cheek and turned around.

"Mr. King it is!" the coati shouted up to me. "We're shovin' off soon, boy. If the Cap'n asks about who the bloody hell ye are, tell 'em Ol' Daniel hired ye on as his cabin boy."

I walked up and stepped onto the deck, turning to look at the city once more. I didn't know if this was going to be my last time ever seeing London... part of me, a big part of me, thought so. There just wasn't anything holding me here anymore. Gideon would come to America if he could. If not, well... as I said, nothing left for me.

I felt the tears welling up inside me again. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was so scared about everything about to happen to me, but I remembered what Alister had told me, that he was always watching me.

As I was about to turn and find the captain's cabin I looked back at the city. I could have sworn that, standing on the side of the roof there in the distance, far too far away to really make out, were a tall fox, a short wolf, and a portly raccoon. There was no way they were real. I even rubbed my eyes, but there they were, so far out that I couldn't make out the very basic details. I swore I saw a top hat on the fox... and I smiled even as tears fell down my cheeks.

"I love you all," I said to no one, holding onto the railing of the ship. "Please help me find the strength to keep moving forward and guide Gideon to New York. I promise to do you all justice." I must have sounded insane, but I was exhausted and probably a little crazy at this point.

After all, it's not every former chimney sweep that can see ghosts.