Title: A Boy and his Dog
Author: Palaytia Dream
Disclaimer: I don't own him, though we are more alike than I care
to admit...and I don't get paid....
Rating : G
Spoilers: None
Warning: None
Summary: Ezra comes to terms with his mother...or does he?
Author's note: my first attempt at angst...
Feedback: Please...palaytia_dream@yahoo.com
Archive: feel free to archive
Dejected, Ezra Standish hung up the phone. He should have known
Maude would have already checked out of her hotel and been well on
her way to who knows where by now.
He stared at the sleek black phone in an anguished silence, weighing
the object in his hands before hurling it toward the wall of his den
with a furious pitch. He flinched as it shattered into countless
pieces about the floor.
"Mother," he cried to the heaven's, "why hast thou
forsaken me!" His
voice came in a harsh Southern drawl as his eyes welled up.
Running a unsteady hand through his dark hair, Ezra paced the room
mumbling to himself "I should have known better," he scoffed.
"it's not like I was on her itinerary while she was in town.
Hell,
she probably got herself caught up in some business of a more
`personal' nature than her own son."
He stopped long enough to glance in the mirror over the fireplace.
He almost didn't recognise the face. His eyes were red, his hair
in various positions about his head. An ironic grin replaced the
scowl.
"My dear boy," he mocked the image, "you know your mother
loves you, surely I needn't tell you that." The grin quickly
faded back to the scowl as his hands itched for an object in which to
hurl at the reflection before him.
The nearest item, a wooden sculpture, caused his hands to freeze
before he wrapped it in his clutches. It was the obvious item to be
sacrificed for the cause, a gift given to him by his mother while she
was away in Europe on one of her "self fulfilling" tours.
She hadn't bothered to ask if he wanted to join her. He thought
for sure she would have at least have had the courtesy of asking her
own son to escort her on such a journey. Instead she asked Josiah.
Josiah of all people.
He grasped the figure in a death grip. His animosity was not toward
Josiah to say the least. Afterall, the seasoned LAW man couldn't
help but be enraptured by Maude's good looks and charming
personality. He was however hurt that once more he, Ezra Standish,
was overlooked for yet another man.
Ezra was used to Maude calling him from out of the blue to have him
assist her in a "business venture." but just once...just once
he wanted to be more than just a "pawn" in her little game of
high finance.
*Freud would have a field day with me*, Standish thought as he turned
the sculpture over in his hands.
The figure, carved of white pine, depicted a boy and his dog. Though
Ezra never had a dog growing up, he had always wanted one. The young
lad knelt, frozen in time, beside his faithful companion, an arm
lovingly placed around the collie's neck.
Ezra snorted sarcastically, remember when his mother told him, this
way there was no mess to clean up and he still had the satisfaction
of a dog in the house.
*Where had he failed? What could he have possibly done to deserve
such treatment, from his mother all of people?*
While a boy, his mother frequently took the young emerald eyed youth
with her on her excursions to various places of business. He
relished when she doted on him, calling him "my son" with a
proudness
in her voice as she visited with "important men."
When he reached his teens however, the doting was replaced with
displeasure and he found himself in several boarding schools. Even a
military school in the middle of God forsaken desert they called
Kansas. Yet, the adolescent Ezra thought this was all in his best
interest and strove to maintain the conduct and scholastic aptitude
he thought his mother would expect of him.
As an adult however, he found himself retracing his mother's
business steps. He was a Standish, and in the underground world,
Standish was a meal ticket. So, back he went, to the swanky buildings
in downtown Frisco. Back to the private rooms of the casinos in
Vegas. Back to what he was destined to be.
He gripped the sculpture tighter, sure that it would splinter in his
hand if he continued.
*I can't believe that, I won't believe that,* he tried to
convince himself as he turned to face the mirror once more. His face
now was red, the tears that threatened to come welled at the corners
of his eyes. Quickly he looked away, loathing the image that
mirrored back.
*What was this all about? What was this for? Why?* The questions
ate at his brain as he paced anxiously. As much as he didn't
understand her thoughts or reasonings, he still loved her...she was,
afterall his mother and though she raised him no better than an alley
cat raised her kittens...she could have done far worse by him. It
was this reasoning he did not comprehend.
Exhausted, Ezra dropped himself onto the plush camel coloured sofa,
the wooden piece of art still in his hands.
~*~
The shrill sound of a phone ringing woke him. He didn't remember
falling asleep and in a haze brought the heavy object to his ear
"Standish Bar and Grill," he answered mindlessly, his
greeting to ward off any unwelcome callers.
"Ezra," Chris' voice cut through the charade.
Ezra said nothing, noting the unfamiliar tone in which Chris greeted
him.
"Ezra" the voice repeated, "it's Maude Ezra.
Detective Brown was just here looking for you. He needs you to come
down to the..." Chris never finished, knowing he didn't have
to.
Larabee used his name twice. That was not good. Ezra'd heard
that tone before on a few cases where the outcome was never what they
had hoped and now....
~*~
"No!" His hearted pounded so he thought it would beat right
out of his chest.
"Mother?!" he cried out rising quickly from the sofa,
glancing about the room for the phone.
It was when his eyes came across the splintered remains of the statue
that once occupied his hands did he realise it was all a dream...a
horrible, cruel dream of fate that he dared not allow come to life.
He knelt beside the limbless torso of the boy, caressing the smoothly
sanding work beneath his thumb.
His eyes caught another piece under the coffee table and another just
shy of that one. He found all but the dog. Giving up on his search
Ezra then lined the pieces on the carpet in front of him.
There, in the quiet isolation of his townhouse, the grown man sat
himself in the middle of his living room and pieced the statue
together, wishing, like a child, that life were that easily mended.
A few bits of wood and some glue.
He never noticed the door slowly open and it was not until he felt
someone was in the room with him did he look over to see the velvet
maroon shoes.
"Mother?" he voiced in confusion. A lost look in his emerald eyes
meet with an object held out before him.
"Looking for this?" Maude inquired softly as she slowly knelt before
her son, the missing piece she found as she came in the door lay
alone in her white gloved hand.
"Mother. I thought...?"
Maude shook her head, not wanting to explain the reason for her
return, unsure herself why she handed the taxi driver the address to
her son's house and not the airport.
"Let's see if we can fix this." she said instead, taking the finely
sanded collie to the reconstructed figurine.
Ezra watched his mother in awe, uncertain how to proceed. The
questions he wanted to ask, the answers he demanded just minutes ago
all seemed...unimportant...at this moment as he took in the sight of
his mother, there by his side. He could smell the soft scent of her
perfume as she moved to place the dog back under the young lad's
arm. He dared not reach out and touch her for fear she would vanish
and he would awaken to yet another cruel dream.
"Ezra?" she broke through his thoughts.
A genuine smile appeared on his face, his gold tooth gleaming like a
ray of sunshine.
"Why yes Mother," he nodded as he turned back the task at
hand, "let's, and then...how about...."
The conversation was slow to begin. Awkward at best. Silent for the
most part. Ezra knew he may never know the thoughts behind his
mother's actions. But one thing he was certain of, Maude would
never cease to amaze him.
~*~
Most of all the beautiful things in life
Come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds.
Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows,
Brothers, and sisters, aunts and cousins,
But you've only one mother in the whole world
Title: A Boy and his Dog