Battle of the Beasts

Because you’re gambling it all away! Eleanor wanted to scream. She saw that her father was still trying to be nice, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to call him out. She gave a questioning look to her mom, who shook her head: Not yet.

Outside, the Walkers started off on a trek through heavy Golden Gate fog. It was rolling up from the bay on to the street like a clammy quilt. Not only was the air not beautiful, they couldn’t see a thing.

“I hate when this city is actually foggy,” Brendan said. “So cliché.”

“Guys,” Eleanor said in a very serious tone.

“What?” asked Cordelia.

“Dad’s in trouble.”

Brendan and Cordelia both looked at her, but now the fog was so dense that they could only see a small, determined shadow with hands clutching backpack straps. Cordelia asked, “How?”

“He’s gambling.”

“Dad?” asked Brendan. “No way. Dad’s not cool enough to be a gambler.”

“There’s nothing cool about what Dad’s doing,” said Eleanor. “You think it’s cool that he lies to us all the time? You think it’s cool when he says he’s going to ‘conferences’, but he’s really betting all our money?”

“How do you know?” Brendan asked.

“I can’t tell you” – Eleanor didn’t want to reveal she’d been in his room – “but I know, and Mom knows, and we’re going to have to— aargh!”

She tripped, landing hard on her elbows. A man was sitting with his back against a stone wall, his legs stretched across the pavement, almost impossible to see in the fog.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she said, getting up. “You can’t just sit in the street like that. I almost just busted open my whole face!”

“Nell,” Brendan whispered, “forget it. It’s just some homeless dude. Don’t get him mad.”

“Spare change?” the man asked, and as the fog wisped around him, the Walkers could see his thin beard and cap; his dirty skin; and the old Starbucks cup in his hand, with a smattering of coins inside.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Cordelia said, digging into her pockets.

The homeless man suddenly tensed, pulling his legs close to his body. He sat up straight, got to his feet, and stared directly at Cordelia. Through the tendrils of moisture that drifted over his head, she could see his bright blue eyes. Cutting eyes.

When the man spoke, she noticed his English accent.

“Cordelia Walker?”

Cordelia couldn’t speak for a moment. Then she said in a small voice: “Will?”

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A bolt of shock silenced the Walker siblings. It was the same dumbfounded disbelief they’d experienced when, after giving up all hope of seeing their parents alive again, they showed up back home and saw Dr and Mrs Walker, unharmed and perfectly healthy.

Wing Commander Will Draper stood in front of them.

“Amazing! Incredible! It’s you!” he said. “What good fortune! I want to hug all of you, but I need a proper shower first!”

“Will, what’s wrong with you?” Cordelia asked. “Why are you in the street? You were supposed to meet me at school six weeks ago!”

“I’m terribly sorry,” said Will. “I never got the chance. Things went a bit off the rails. It’s all rather embarrassing.”

“Have you been here all this time?” asked Eleanor.

“No. I was in jail.”

The Walkers exchanged nervous glances.

“It started with that hotel, the Days Inn,” said Will, turning to Cordelia. “That’s where you advised me to stay the evening we came back from our … adventures.”

“I remember,” Cordelia said. “That’s also when you agreed to meet me at school the next day.”

“Yes, but you can’t imagine how difficult it is, being a visitor to the future. It’s quite disorienting. From the moment I left your house, I started seeing things that boggled me. You know, where I’m from, Saint Paul’s Cathedral is the tallest thing around. I arrive in San Francisco, I’m looking at the Transamerica Pyramid!”

“I’m sorry,” Cordelia said. “I never should have sent you away without preparing you—”

“No need to feel guilty,” said Will. “We had all just been through an exhausting journey. None of us were thinking clearly. I’m just so happy to finally see you!”

“What happened that first night?”

“I arrived at Days Inn,” said Will. “The man at the front desk brought me to my room, where there was a large box that displayed moving pictures. It was loudly playing some panto about a yellow-skinned family that ate pink doughnuts—”

“The Simpsons!” said Brendan. “Classic show.”

“Hideous show!” said Will. “I just wanted to get some sleep. But I couldn’t find the lever to turn off the box. So I went back and asked the man for help, and he muttered, ‘Crazy limey lunatic.’”

“Uh-oh,” Brendan said.

“I didn’t appreciate being insulted by this person who, to be honest, smelled like my nether regions after a long air battle. I told the man, ‘Your Days Inn operation is an embarrassment. Our hotel standards are much higher in London!’ He said, ‘Then go back to your country, Sally.’ Now why would he call me ‘Sally’?”

“No clue,” said Brendan.

“And then,” continued Will, “he said something very nasty about the Royal Family. And that … put me over the edge.”

“So what did you do?” asked Eleanor.

“I punched him.”

“Oh jeez,” said Cordelia.

“He went down like a sack of bricks and gave me my money back.”

“So why didn’t you come to us?” said Cordelia. “We would have helped you.”

“I had this mad notion,” said Will, “that if I could just get into an aeroplane … I could fly back to London.”

“Home,” Cordelia said sadly.