"looking forward to it."
chapter one -- where did you go?
As a child, Deborah absolutely hated snakes. Her uncle Hal was forced to turn off National Geographic when even anything slightly resembling the scales or silhouette of the animal was in sight, or else face the wrath of a furious seven-year-old with a loud set of pipes. Betty and Polly couldn't care less, though they did find it quite weird. If Alice had a problem with her odd fear of snakes considering her parents' past, she didn't show it, rather, she encouraged it with her strong anti-Southside vendetta and even stronger unexplained hatred against one of the gangs. Once, she had pointed out the father of one of her friends, bearing a jacket with a snake and they left immediately without another word.
But while Debbie shared a fascinating dislike of snakes with her, her aunt couldn't stop her fascination towards the Southside and its residents. Her curiosity mixed with her ability to charm the lollipops off of people made for a dangerous combination, and sometimes Alice hated how much the girl had taken after her, most particularly when she was younger as well, though it was undeniably endearing. The two grew close, almost closer to Alice than her actual husband.
In time, she had noticed that her aunt and uncle argued a lot, but never in front of her, always in hushed whispers or out of her sight. Never did she actually hear the words come from Hal's mouth, but she was sure they were fighting about her stay with their family. It had to have been, with his usually cold demeanor towards her discreetly hidden behind a supposed fatherly smile and reluctance to actually spend time with her in an attempt to "connect," as her aunt had called it.
Debbie was mature enough for a seven-year-old to conclude that the reason he was hesitant about her prolonged stay might've been because of her parents and their sudden disappearance out of the blue, adding to that, mysteriously dropping off their only child with their picture-perfect family. Curiously, she heard that Hal had never even met her parents, but instead, it was Alice who was close to them. The reason was that they had gone to high school together, but her aunt never told her which high school (When she became older, she would find out why.)
Hal made up for his hostility with almost daily trips to Pop's, ordering a single black coffee for himself and a strawberry milkshake for Debbie. It was something her aunt had suggested in order to ease her into the family. Then, they'd sit in silence until he supposed it was a proper time to come back home and Alice deemed it long enough to consider they "bonded."
Debbie never told her that the only time they bonded was when she would hand him some sugar packets from the basket of condiments nearest to her.
Unsurprisingly, Debbie would grow bored during these trips, which was normal for a seven-year-old. The strawberry milkshakes were always amazing, but with Hal preferring silence while he wrote new articles for the Register, it was easy to lose interest quickly. Sometimes he'd give her some quarters to change the music on the jukebox, but that was as interesting as it gets. Maybe she'd get another milkshake, if she was lucky. However, beyond the window, when she finished her drink and stopped picking up stray straw wrappers by her table, she would look to the other side of the tracks.
When her aunt described the Southside, she made it seem as if there was nothing more frightening or dangerous about it. Alice had made that clear from her first day that going over to the South was strictly forbidden, lest she face the consequences. Though the thought of seeing her aunt angry scared her, anything but boredom seemed to be better than having awkward small talk with Hal.
Today, he's busy typing away endlessly at his computer, caught up in a supposedly scandalous event that occurred in tiny, uneventful Riverdale, an occasion that very rarely happened so he was sure to fully indulge himself into the writing process. Debbie wishes she could be anywhere but there. Every once in a while, a new customer would arrive, and the bell above the door would let out a pleasant ring, disrupting the awkward silence between the two.
Sighing, she slumps in her seat and peers out the window. It became a habit, people-watching. She found it fascinating to get a glimpse into people's everyday lives, see what made them tick, imagine how their lives must have been so interesting and lively. Riverdale had sucked the joy out of her, and the summer quickly lost its appeal at the same time she lost her parents.
Warm nights around fires surrounded by family that was not quite family were replaced by nights at a stuffy dining room and meaningless chatter. Breezy days sipping lemonade with other children in her parents' circle and making-believe they were fighting off enemies like their parents themselves were gone, in their place, playing dolls with cousins that were immersed in their own stories. She was used to adapting to big changes with her parents' often trips to different and unknown places, but this was a whole new type of change entirely. Debbie did not have anyone this time.
A boy appeared in her vision, yanking her back from her thoughts. He appeared from the other side of the tracks, but the fog made it hard to make out his features so she leaned closer into the window until her nose pressed against the cool glass, eyes wide in wonder. When the boy noticed her, he froze. For a moment, Debbie thought he was going to approach the diner. That was apparently not the case as he broke into a run, disappearing into the fog.
"Finally! Let's go, Deborah." Hal shut his laptop abruptly, surprising her with the sudden movement. He opened his wallet and left some bills on the table for their coffee and milkshake. She murmured a soft thank you to Pop as they left, but as they got into the car, she noticed that the boy was back. Sheepishly, she waved at him.
A few days later, they were back at Pop's while Alice took the girls to their ballet recital. She would've come with them, if not for a viral sickness she had caught. Debbie eagerly wished them good luck as they left, and Betty promised to tell her everything when they came back. As hours passed, she seemed to get better, so Hal proposed a quick trip to Pop's for some chicken noodle soup and apple pie, since Alice was the only one who could cook without setting the entire house on fire.
The bell over their heads rang as they entered the neon diner, and today it was bustling with customers from a football team celebrating a victory. She raised an eyebrow and wondered how her dad enjoyed the sport, with all the sweating and occasional animal-like shrieks. In her head, it made little sense considering her father's occupation, always silent and gone before you even knew it while making deals in shady places he had dragged their family too.
As her uncle ordered the promised chicken noodle soup, she situated herself into a booth and once again, pressed herself close to the window in seach for the kid she had seen days before. She strained her head, attempting to look for him above the cars blocking her view, but sighed when she found nothing. A bit of company may have been helpful for her—
"What are you looking for?" A small voice nearly surprised the life out of her, and sure enough, as she turned around it was the boy from the other side of the tracks. A mischievous, almost devilish smile appeared on his face. "Were you looking for me?"
Her cheeks flushed and she crossed her arms, "Absolutely not!" She took a moment to study his features. The first things she noticed were that he was incredibly short, barely reaching her shoulder, and two front teeth missing from his grin. A pirate hat lied lopsided on his raven hair and she suppressed a giggle at his "pirate" costume made up of a beaten, faded hat and a stray branch.
"What are you laughing at?" The boy glared at her as he watched her face turn almost red in holding back laughter. When he noticed her line of sight, he furrowed his brow as if confused. "It's... it's not funny."
Debbie raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she continued to gaze at his costume. "Oh, it's definitely funny."
"It is not!" The boy almost growled in response, but she couldn't help it, with the branch poking out of his pocket and the hat continuously falling over his large, sweet eyes. She made no attempt to hold back her laughter anymore as she saw his face become more red.
Finally, the boy hopped off the booth and blew a raspberry at her. "I thought you could've been a good friend, but I guess not! I'm out of here, sister."
"Wait—" The boy hastily made his exit, the bell above the door ringing louder from the force of his push as Debbie tried to stop him. She looked out the window and saw him join a group of men bearing the same jackets that one of her friends wore. Frowning, she worried that he might've been approaching the wrong people, since her aunt always told her to run away when she was people with those kinds of jackets. Their jackets reminded her of her parents' jackets and the thought made her suddenly sick, but still she continued watching them as the boy attempted for numerous times to hop onto one of the motorcycles with his short stature.
Another bell, a different one this time, made a shrill, high-pitched sound and a box of food was handed over to her uncle. Her uncle made sure that all of her limbs were still intact (Alice insisted on always checking the kids after an unfortunate incident involving a certain redheaded child and a game of football in the dark) and when he was satisfied, they left and headed home, where the other girls were waiting.
That night, Debbie and Betty talked about her recital and the boy she talked to at Pop's.
A few weeks later, Debbie had almost forgotten about the boy until he reappeared once again, but this time he remained on his side of the tracks, and she could only watch from the window as Hal worked on documents finalizing her adoption. At least that's what he said anyway. She waved at him, to which he'd stick out his tounge and go back to the South. The same thing would happen over and over again, during the course of a month. Wave. Leave. Wave. Leave. Sometimes, it would go the opposite order.
Of course, as a seven-year-old with literally zero patience and a newlyfounded motivation to spread her unhapiness to her uncle, the routine began to frustrate her. Naturally, she began to make a plan.
It was a hot, summer afternoon and the whole Cooper family were drenched to the bone. It also did not particularly help that the cooling systems of Riverdale were seriously messed up and there was only room for four people to stand in front of the fridge and let the coolness take over. Having learned to ride a bike earlier that week, she proposed a quick run to Pop's to get milkshakes and everyone agreed, pushing her out the door with Alice's wallet. Smiling, she did a little victory dance on her bike as her plan was going along smoothly.
Entering Pop's air-conditioned diner was a relief, but the sounds of Britney Spears streaming through the speakers ruined the ambiance. Debbie popped herself up on one of the booths and warmly greeted Pop Tate. "Five milkshakes, please!"
The old man raised a brow. "Only five? Who's the unlucky Cooper who's going to miss out on shakes?" So maybe Debbie had lied a few days earlier that a relative had been staying with them for a while, it wasn't like he had to know that she was the relative staying with the Coopers!
"Sadly, me." Debbie showed her the money from Alice's wallet, making sure to evidently pout and droop in her seat. "I really want one, but Aunt Alice thought I already drank too many milkshakes this week. Too bad I'll miss out on your absolutely legendary shakes." For more dramatic effect, she made sure to look longingly at the machine that made the milkshakes.
Pop seemed to be in deep thought for a moment before a kind smile appeared on his face. "I can give you an additional shake if we keep this between you and me, on the house." She beamed as he had taken the bait. A few minutes later, she walked out of the diner, victoriously holding three vanilla shakes, two chocolate shakes, and one vanilla shake. It also satisfied her that the boy was on the same tracks as she walked closer to him.
Before he could go away, she held up one of the milkshakes. "I come bearing treasure!"
A moment passed. "You may come closer."
The smile on her face grew even bigger as the boy rearranged the pirate hat on his head and examined her. She left the rest of the milkshakes back on her bicycle and took one of the chocolate ones. "Here you go."
"Why?" He accepted the offering but was still confused. He took the straw she gave him too and was sipping away in a matter of seconds.
She shrugged. "I wanted to say sorry for laughing at you. Is my apology accepted then?"
The boy contemplated. He opened his mouth to say something and Debbie perked up, only to see that he was opening his mouth to drink the shake. This time, the silence felt tense and awkward as loud slurping noises were the only thing she heard. "Apology accepted. You can be my lieutenant now."
"What's that?"
"I don't know."
"Cool," Debbie cocked her head to the side. "Why are you always wearing a pirate hat?"
"'Cause I want to." He replied, continuing to drink the chocolate milkshake. "My dad used to be a sailor and he told me I could be a pirate, so I became one. I don't know where he is anymore, but someday I'll find him."
Carefully, he took out a golden locket from his pocket and Debbie gasped as he opened it. She furrowed her brows as she looked closer, the two people in the picture resembling the boy next to her. It occurred to her that they were probably his parents. Sadly, she looked down. "I don't know where my dad is either."
The boy frowned, but then suddenly smiled. She would've asked him why he was suddenly grinning at her like he just won the lottery, but at the moment, the sight of his teeth lifted her spirits. "We can find your dad first if you'd like."
"Really? Can we find my mom too?" She murmured, a tinge of embarrassment in her voice. "I lost her too and I don't know where she is."
He nodded and stuck out his hand. She noticed a purple Barnie band-aid on his finger and smiled once again. "I swear we'll find them. Cross my heart and hope to die. Promise."
Debbie shook his hand. "Promise. My name's Debbie, by the way, what's yours?"
The boy opened his mouth, presumably to say his name but he paused. His cheeks suddenly turned red and he turned around. "I can't tell you my name."
"Why not?"
"You'll just laugh, just like you did at my clothes that one time." True, he did have a point. Clicking her tongue, she shrugged at the small boy.
"I swear I won't laugh." She promised. "No matter how horrible your name is, at least your middle name's not Gertrude."
"Really?" He turned back to face her, and the redness in his cheeks still remained. "I have to admit, that is more horrible. Fine, my name's Sweet Pea."
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Debbie laughed, but then noticed her watch. Her laughter abruptly stopped and she hurried to get back on her bike, though careful to avoid knocking over the milkshakes. She kicked her bike into gear and she rode circles around him before leaving. "Meet me here tomorrow afternoon. I gotta go, but it was nice talking to you," she paused. "Sweet Pea."
Coming back to the house, she was plagued with only thoughts of Sweet Pea, her family's anger be damned. Sure, the milkshakes weren't as thick as they would've been from the summer heat and she may have dropped one of the milkshakes on the way, but it was totally worth it as she saw him again the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until it became a routine as they headed to the Southside together, replacing her usual trips with Hal. She found that she preferred her trips with Sweet Pea even more.
One day at the quarry, Debbie had grown three more inches while Sweet Pea hadn't grown at all. It was almost the end of the summer, and they were each worried about school and such stuff like that. Curiously, she asked him if they would see each other when school began again.
"Of course we will," He pulled out a piece of paper from his jacket, the one without the snakes he so often talked about. "You can call me the night before school starts so we can figure out what we're gonna do. Sound like a plan?"
"Looking forward to it." A feeling in her gut told her that something was wrong, but she pushed it down. When he walked away, she felt tears prickle the corners of her eyes and she feels like she's letting go of something important.
So many things go on that week, but she held on to that single piece of scrap paper throughout without ever losing faith in it and when the day before school arrived, when all her nerves were scattered and she began thinking of plans to leave the country with her friend, she dialed the number into the phone and waited for his voice. Strangely, it was like she couldn't even remeber it.
She was disappointed when a woman answered the call instead, who told her that he'd call her back after he got ready. Quietly, she said thank you and hung up the phone, jumping into her bed and staring at the ceiling, hoping for the sound of the telephone to echo throughout her room.
The phone never rang that last summer night, or the night after, or the years that followed.