Bane

November 3, 1968

"That's probably it." Nadjia nodded. "I mean everyone comes out and sings, right? You have Bugs Bunny, and Daffy Duck, that mouse..."

"Speedy Gonzales." Jonathan nods.

"...you have a hoppy thing."

"Hippity hopper."

"Huh?"

Jonathan nudged Nadjia, pushing his hand at her shoulder. "His name is Hippity Hopper. He's a kangamaroo. They're from Austria."

Nadjia shifted to her side, pointing a finger upward in correction. "That's kangaroo. Kangaroos are from Austria."

"Yeah."

"...but why all these others, the Mousy Gonzales, Hiphopper, the fat pig that speaks badly? There's the rooster, and even the coyote... but no roadrunner."

"Well," Jonathan locked eyes with Nadjia, her eyes both stunning electric blue, deep, and piercing all at once, dark blue rings around the lighter blue. "Bugs Bunny does show him after they sing their song. Maybe he's shy, but Bugs Bunny wants to save the best for last?"

Nadjia shook her head slowly. "I don't think the roadrunner is the best. He's always running from that coyote. He is only lucky... but he never fights back."

"I don't think he is the best for last, either." Jonathan shifted himself closer to Nadjia.

Nadjia shifted closer to him.

"Nadjia?"

"Huh?" Her eyes, large and wide - almost round now - locked into Jonathan's. She felt a little dizzy, the way the green in his eyes were almost like lights.

"The fat pig?"

"Pig?"

Jonathan nodded. "The fat pig is named Porky Pig, and he has a stutter. It's why he can't talk so good."

Nadjia furrowed her brow, and Jonathan unconsciously reached to scratch the back of his neck. "Jonathan Walker, if I wanted to know everybody's name, I would ask you!"

"...but - but - but you said..."

"I said that the roadrunner is not the best for last. The fat pork pig isn't best either. This cartoon is so dumb." Nadjia's usually pleasant voice cracked, somewhere between grief and anger, carrying over Foghorn Leghorn's voice, into the kitchen where their young argument piqued the attention of Emily Walker - affectionately known as mom, mommy, or mother to Jonathan. She listened intently as they argued in the den.

"Well. Maybe you're dumb." Jonathan folded his arms across his chest.

"What?" Nadjia's blue eyes almost immediately began to brim with tears.

"Jonathan! Nadjia! Breakfast is ready! Go wash your hands and come to the table."

Jonathan stared at Nadjia grudgingly, and Nadjia stared back with her lip quivering. "Do you really think I'm dumb?"

Jonathan wanted to stop, and be nice, but Nadjia was always such a brat sometimes when it came to what she called boy stuff. Cartoons were decidedly not boy stuff. In fact, his dad would sometimes watch cartoons with him when he was home. Sometimes - maybe not a lot - but sometimes his mom would watch, too. She would even comment how cartoons were better when she was little.

That was always funny to Jonathan. Everybody knew they did not cartoons in ancient times.

"I need to go wash my hands," Jonathan broke eye contact with Nadjia, feeling ashamed of himself. "You should do it, too. Mom said so."