Welcome Home!

Part 36: Hope for Nothing

Wally eventually left to go sit in his dirt patch. Why had no one invited him into their homes? I didn't know. I decided that I would drag him into the bodega with me.

Howdy woke up sometime later. Everyone around us had left, but I didn't mind. Howdy needed sleep.

"Morning, my dear Howdy. Well, I suppose it's closer to night, but never mind that," I smiled up at him. Howdy helped me up to my feet.

"Would you mind if I go rest in the boedga for a bit? I could really use some more sleep...." Howdy gave me a drowsy smile. I looked down at his hand, the one I was still holding. I kissed a knuckle on his hand before waving goodbye. "I heard that kisses heal wounds! I think I read it in a book once."

I began walking over to poor Wally.

(As you left, Howdy stayed glued to his spot, the hand that you had kissed still hung in the air. Kisses healing wounds? That certainly did not make physical wounds any better, but luckily for Howdy, he only had emotional ones.

He continued standing, watching you continue to walk. His heart stopped for a bit. How was it possible that you were even more caring than before? You were certainly an enigma.

Howdy eventually made it to his empty bodega. As he walked through the front door, his eyes lingered on your comfy box.. the one he had created. No matter what version of you existed, it seemed that you'd always find your way back to that box. Howdy chuckled and sat on his stool, leaning over his counter.

He seemed to be in this position a lot, but he found comfort sitting by his counter. How pathetic, he thought. That was a terrible quality Howdy possessed. He was unbelievably self-critical.)

"Wally, darling! Why hasn't anyone invited you to live with them? You may come live with me if you'd like!" I patted his shoulder sympathetically. What a poor puppet. It seemed that Wally only ever dealt with misfortune.

"..I'd like that," Wally smiled up at me. He stood up. "Where to?"

"Hmmm... let's go to my house," I pointed over to it. I began walking slowly. Wally caught up with me.

"Do you know.. know why I gave you that ring?" Wally suddenly asked to break the silence. I shrugged.

"Nope, but it's very lovely."

"Yes. It is," Wally replied flippantly. I wasn't convinced he was interested in our small talk. I did not blame him. I, too, despised small talk.

(Wally had completely given up at this point. He was tired of competing against Howdy, who was the perfect man puppet thing. All Wally wanted to do now was sleep. Sleeping was nice. It was the only time he could get a break.

This outcome did not surprise him. He could be classified as a hopeless romantic, but he was more of a hopeless affectionate, if anything.

Always the second choice. That was his designated spot in everything. He wasn't the first Wally. He wasn't the first friend to be chosen when it came to hanging out. He wasn't even the first to be comforted. Wally was just Wally: always the first to care, never the first to be cared for.

He craved affection and attention. He was always the first to give it out, but people seldom ever returned the favor. That's why he had fallen for Home's blatant tricks and red flags. It never failed to feed into whatever it was Wally craved. Home only did that to toy with him, however. He knew that know.

Wally followed you silently. He was grateful that out of everyone you had decided to invite him in, but he was also disappointed. Why had the situation come to this? He didn't know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.)

We made it to my house. I opened the door and gave him a quick tour. I wasn't sure if he had ever seen my house.

"I have a guest room over there, so you may use that," I stated as I swept the dust off my windowsills. Wally thanked me and walked into the room quietly. I knew he was upset about something, but I couldn't name it. I decided to leave him alone... He probably needed time to himself. After all, I was certain he had been comforted by many of our friends. He was probably getting tired of chatting with people.

(Wally sat on the edge of the guest bed. It was soft and springy. He liked the bed, but he dreaded the days ahead.

He felt ashamed. How could he have forgotten? Nothing in his neighborhood was truly real. It was all fabricated.. he even saw the occasional human running around to fix props. Wally longed to leave the set, but he couldn't abandon his neighbors even though they often abandoned him. He loved them all too much.

Wally sighed and flopped onto his back. Why was everything so complicated? He covered his eyes with his hands as he took deep breaths, the dark, unlit room hiding him from whatever it was he didn't want to face.

He contemplated turning on a light, but a small part of him enjoyed the feeling of being forgotten, left alone.

Meanwhile, Howdy was walking to your house. He was running on nothing but adrenaline now. He was positive nothing would go wrong.)

Someone knocked on my door. I walked over and opened the door. It was Howdy! I offered him a friendly wave.

"I love you!" Howdy exclaimed. He seemed tired. I assumed he had been running.

"That's very endearing, Howdy! It's good to remind your friends of such things."

Howdy swallowed. "No.. like how Frank likes Eddie.."

"Oh, yes. They do like each other very much, don't they? It's very heartwarming!" I clasped my hands together and held them up to my cheek. Howdy's demeanor went from confident to dead instantly.

"Yes. That's all I wanted to say. Have a good night," Howdy bid me goodbye sweetly. He left without a second thought.

(Howdy was back at the bodega now. He went straight to his stool and leaned over his table.

What had he expected from that interaction? Howdy knew the answer. He had stupidly thought that it would play out like last time. How embarrassing. Howdy inhaled and exhaled quickly, trying his best not to cry.

Just like everything else he tried to do, he failed. The tears wouldn't stop flowing. Howdy sobbed, his chest aching horribly.

His stitches felt too tight. His apron felt too scratchy. He felt too pitiful. Howdy did not feel right.

Howdy held his head with his hands as he continued sobbing. He wept for his attempts, failures, and most importantly, you. He wept for your death. He wept for your disagreeable return. He wept for your reaction, and he wept for your future. Howdy selfishly wept for himself, as well.

Nothing he did helped. It was why he had tucked himself away in his shop. Home had once told him he was being a nuisance by checking in on everyone all the time. As a result, Howdy distanced himself, only allowing his neighbors to see him for deliveries.

Howdy thought he had made a mistake by allowing himself to forget Home's criticism. He was convinced that he was right. The only thing he could do now was keep to himself in his shop.

Howdy took your rejection just fine. Yes, he was disappointed, but you were not obligated to reciprocate. Still, he mourned your previous relationship. It had made him feel wanted and alive. Howdy had to stop living in the past, though. Everyone else had moved on. It was time for him, too.)