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His plan had been working perfectly, until the neighbors called the fire department.
The fire truck came racing down the street, sirens wailing. By then Usopp and his foster brothers were standing in front of the house; not to evade an actual fire, but to avoid the stench currently filling the kitchen and spreading through the downstairs, while their foster parents rushed around opening windows and setting up fans in a vain attempt to air it out.
It took the firefighters all of five minutes to ascertain that there wasn’t a real fire, just three of Usopp’s most noxious smoke bombs puffing away from their strategic placements around the house. Usopp knew he should have added more green coloring to the mix; then they would have looked like real stink bombs, and he wouldn’t have the fire chief giving a stern lecture on the dangers of smoke inhalation and messing with chemicals.
The lecture lasted until Merry arrived. The social worker looked harried as he scrambled out of his car, staring goggle-eyed at the firetruck as he made his way across the yard to the fuming woman standing on the porch. Usopp almost felt sorry for him. This was a much bigger commotion than usual.
Usopp’s foster mother hadn’t calmed down one bit since she’d called Merry.
“OUT!” Mrs. Patch said as soon as Merry was close enough. “I want him out, right now!”
“Yes, well, I have to make a few calls first,” Merry stammered.
“He is not staying here another minute!”
“Now hold on–!”
Usopp watched as Merry (unsuccessfully) tried to talk Mrs. Patch down. It was a lost cause; Usopp knew he was setting off more than just his stink bombs when he lit that fuse, even if he didn’t mean to make her quite this angry. He just wanted to raise a fuss. Add just enough straw to break the camel’s back. His reasons for doing so appeared, three sets of small hands grabbing at his overalls.
“Usopp, are you leaving?” Ninjin asked.
“You can’t go!” Piiman cried.
“Yeah, you have to stay!” Tamanegi was near tears.
His three younger foster brothers stared up at him with pleading eyes.
“What’s this? You’re not crying over little old me, are you?”
“She shouldn’t send you away! It isn’t fair!” Tamanegi said.
“Isn’t fair!” The other two chorused.
“It isn’t Mrs. Patch’s fault,” Usopp said. “I am a free spirit, traveling where the wind takes me! I’m off to the next adventure, that’s all.”
Tamanegi sniffled, and there was a misty sheen in all of their eyes, but they let go. They were young, but they’d been in foster care long enough to understand how it worked. People came into your life and left just as quickly. That was the way of things.
“I’m off, but I’ll never forget you guys. Remember what I told you?”
“Look out for each other,” they chorused dutifully. “Don’t let anyone tell us what we can be.”
“That’s right.” He crouched down to their level, opening his arms. The three boys slammed into him, and he wrapped them up in a hug. He was really going to miss these kids.
Mr. Patch came out of the house, and dropped Usopp’s duffel bag and backpack into Merry’s arms. With the way Mr. and Mrs. Patch both stood on the porch, glaring and arms crossed, Usopp doubted they would let him back inside. That was okay. He knew nothing would be left behind, this time; Usopp had packed everything this morning.
“Come along now, Usopp,” Merry said. He hauled the bags to his small car.
Giving the boys one last squeeze, Usopp stood and strode toward the car. He settled into the familiar front seat, buckling in without prompting.
The Patches and Ninjin, Piiman, and Tamanegi stood together and watched as Merry backed the car out and started down the street. The three boys broke away from Mrs. Patch, running to the edge of the yard, waving frantically. Usopp rolled down the window and leaned out, ignoring Merry’s shouts as he waved back. He kept waving as the three figures grew smaller and smaller, only stopping when the car turned the corner and they were out of sight.
Usopp settled back in his seat with a sigh. He was going to miss those kids, but this was for the best. They’d forget him in a few weeks, anyway, once the adoption paperwork went through.
Usopp could set a clock by Merry. Lecture incoming in three, two, one…
“Unbelievable. If you hadn’t set the house on fire–”
“I didn’t set anything on fire, Merry,” Usopp groaned. “It was just a stink bomb that got a little too smokey.”
“I don’t understand where you get these wild impulses,” Merry said. “You were doing so well the last three months, too. I didn’t receive a single complaint from the Patches, but now you act out with only two weeks of school left. Couldn’t this nonsense have waited?”
Usopp had overheard the Patches talking one night; they were planning to adopt Ninjin, Piiman, and Tamanegi. They were just waiting until the foster kid they didn’t want was out of the house. No one wanted to adopt a seventeen year old, especially not one with a history of troublemaking like Usopp. The Patches weren’t going to tell the kids about filing for adoption until Usopp was gone, so he decided to speed up the process. Merry wouldn’t want to hear that though.
“I was feeling inspired,” Usopp said.
“Well, your inspiration couldn’t have come at a worse time,” Merry said. “Now I have to find you a placement in the county limits, and we’re already stretched thin in this area. It’s hard enough finding a place for someone your age, and on such short notice–!” Usopp tuned out Merry’s fussing. It was background noise the whole ride to the agency, and up the stairs to the third floor where Merry’s office was.
“Just sit here and wait,” Merry ordered.
“As you wish,” Usopp said with a sarcastic little half bow.
Merry entered his office while Usopp plopped down on the bench outside. The hallway was empty and quiet. Most of the other office doors were closed, the rooms empty and dark. Usopp tapped his feet. He pulled a piece of string from his pocket to fiddle with as he listened while Merry started making phone calls.
“Hello, this is Merry Butler with the East Blue foster agency—”
“You’re licensed to take four children—”
“—if it’s not too much—”
“I need an emergency placement for a seventeen year old male—”
“—his record? You see—”
Merry made phone call after phone call. Usopp could only hear half of every conversation, but he didn’t need to hear the mounting frustration in Merry’s voice to know what was being said. After several more fruitless attempts, he finally seemed to run out of numbers to call. Merry dropped the phone on the desk with a heavy sigh.
Usopp peeked around the corner. Merry sat at his desk, head cradled in his hands.
“What am I going to do with you?” Merry muttered to himself.
Usopp turned back around and stared at his knees. Merry probably didn’t intend for him to hear that, but the tired bitterness in Merry’s voice still stung. Usopp knew that being his social worker wasn’t easy. He’d been in and out of different foster homes for the last ten years. Since he was seven years old, he’d never stayed in any home for more than a few months at a time.
Merry was dialing again, but Usopp tuned him out.
Usopp was too much for most people. That was Merry’s term for it. Too much. Too loud, too emotional, too opinionated. Impertinent, temperamental, annoying. A liar, with a behavioral record long enough to make most prospective foster parents balk at the idea of taking him in. No one wanted to deal with someone who was too much.
Merry stepped out into the hallway, interrupting Usopp’s morose thoughts. He haphazardly juggled briefcase, jacket, phone, and keys, until, after a slight struggle, he finally managed to lock the office door.
“Where to, Merry?” Usopp asked. His cheerfulness sounded forced, but that was okay. Merry would answer regardless; he was used to Usopp playing happy camper. Though when he was younger, it was more to annoy Merry than to hide his trepidation.
“There are no available homes in the immediate area. The Charlotte House always has room, or so they claim, but,” Merry held up a hand, forestalling Usopp’s panic, “we’re not taking you there.”
Usopp slowly relaxed back into the chair from where he’d tensed at the mention of the Charlotte House group home. Usopp didn’t do group homes anymore. Not after the disaster that was his stay with the Franky Family three months ago.
“What are you going to do?” Usopp asked. He had to go somewhere. He couldn’t just crash on Merry’s couch for the night.
Merry straightened his tie, looking irritated in a way that, for once, didn’t seem to be directed at Usopp. When he spoke, he sounded sour, like he’d swallowed something distasteful.
“I’m calling in a favor.”
It was a long ride to the house. Definitely outside the county lines; they were in the hilly area north of the city proper. Usopp could hardly believe his eyes when they entered the neighborhood. It wasn’t quite in the country, but definitely more spread out and private than the suburbs; the houses in this neighborhood were large and nice looking, and spaced far apart. They had big front yards, and backed up to wooded areas. Merry hadn’t warned him that his new fosters were rich.
Merry turned into a driveway, and Usopp nervously examined his new home.
This yard was far less manicured than its neighbors. The grass grew at about knee height, and the bushes by the porch looked as if they hadn’t seen clippers in years. Ivy trailed up the face of the house.
It was still a nice house though. Hopefully the yard was a good indication that his new fosters weren’t too strict or stuck up, even if they did live in what looked to be a rather pricey piece of real estate.
The front door opened. A old white woman stepped out and walked toward the car.
“Wait here,” Merry said. He stepped out of the car, leaving Usopp to watch, dumbfounded, as the woman approached.
She looked like she was at least eighty years old, but she was dressed like a teenage girl in a sitcom. She wore a cropped jacket over a white and pink crop top with a flower on the chest. Her brightly colored boots had six inch heels, and a bellybutton ring complimented the glitzy belt holding up her low riding jeans. It was the most obnoxious outfit Usopp had ever seen. Standing next to her, Merry in his worn black suit looked less like a social worker and more like an usher at a funeral.
They spoke for a moment, and then Merry turned and waved Usopp over. Usopp unbuckled and got out of the car. When he reached the other side, he stuck out his hand in greeting, as Merry always insisted he did.
“Hi. Nice to meet you, Mrs….?”
“Kureha,” the woman said, taking his hand in a surprisingly strong grip. “Doctor Kureha. None of that “Missus” stuff. You can call me Kureha, or Young Doctor Kureha, or that foxy young—”
“Yes, ahem,” Merry interrupted. “Dr. Kureha will do fine. Doctor, this is the young man I told you about. I appreciate you taking him on such short notice–”
“Yeah, yeah, we all know I owed you one. Drop the pleasantries, you old goat,” Kureha said, waving her hand impatiently. “I’ve got food on the stove and errands to run. Go get your bags, kid.”
No wonder stuffy old Merry had looked so disgruntled. Less than a minute of conversation and Usopp could tell she was Merry’s antithesis.
As Usopp grabbed his duffel and backpack from the trunk, he heard Kureha say to Merry in a low, serious tone. “If Chopper doesn’t like him, then he’s out, favor or no favor. Are we clear?”
Chopper? What chopper?
“Crystal clear,” Merry said. “But there’s no reason to worry. Usopp is a problem child, but he’s not that kind of problem child.”
Thanks, Merry.
Merry’s phone rang. He answered, gesturing for Usopp to hurry up as he listened to whoever was talking on the other end. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll be right over.” He hung up. “I have to be off. I’ll return tomorrow for a house check.”
It wasn’t entirely above board, leaving without inspecting the foster home, but Usopp supposed he had already eaten up enough of Merry’s time. That, plus Kureha’s mention of favors, and Usopp guessed Merry would be fudging the paperwork in more ways than one. Was Kureha even a registered foster parent?
Hopefully Merry wasn’t so tired of Usopp that he’d leave him with a serial killer.
Merry turned to Usopp. Usopp looked back at him, trying not to fidget while Merry stared. This scene was familiar. The houses and the people changed, but it always played out the same way: Merry dropping Usopp off and giving an awkward goodbye. The only constant in his life since his mom died ten years ago.
Merry looked torn, more than usual. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, before finally deciding what to say.
“Try to stay out of trouble, Usopp.”
With that, he climbed back into his car and left.
The car was barely out of sight before Kureha strode toward the house, leaving Usopp to pick up his duffel and follow.
The house was bigger up close. It was at least two, maybe three stories. A large porch stretched across the front; it stopped where the driveway met the house, giving way to a garage door. A broken garage door, Usopp noted, spying a large dent that kept it ajar in its frame. Like someone had rammed into it. Another glance at the rest of the house revealed oddly colored stains on the siding and pieces of the railing missing. Not just missing, but broken off, leaving jagged wooden spikes.
Usopp swallowed. Please don’t let this be a serial killer’s house.
“Chopper! Get down here!” Kureha hollered through the open door. She turned to Usopp. “Come on in. He’ll be down in just a second, if he knows what’s good for him.”
Did she have a dog? Usopp hoped so. He loved dogs, and it had been awhile since he’d stayed with a family that had one. (Please let it be a dog. For what reason would a person be called that?)
He started to pass her to enter the house, when one gnarled, talon-like hand seized his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“When you see him,” Kureha said, her voice low and full of warning, “don’t say one word about his appearance. Or this ends here and now.”
Usopp gulped. What did that mean? Kureha released him, and he forced his suddenly leaden legs to move. The warmth of the late afternoon sun disappeared as he stepped inside; it was cool, like stepping into a cellar. It was dim in the house, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust after the brightness outside. Blinking, he looked around. The front door opened into a spacious antechamber. Three doorways led off from it, and a large staircase led up to the second floor. Usopp’s estimate of the house’s price went up.
In the shadow of the stairs, something moved. Something big, but previously standing so still Usopp’s eyes had skated right over it, until it stepped forward and he realized it was a person.
Usopp looked up. And up. And up.
A giant stood before him. Terrifyingly broad shoulders, limbs the size of tree branches. Easily eight feet tall. At that size he could snap Usopp’s spine with his pinky. More frightening than his size was the giant’s face. Usopp stared at the grotesque face, his eyes catching on discolored skin, a misshapen nose, and the wicked scar above his lip. His face was monstrous. Usopp couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even when he noticed the monster glaring down at him.
Usopp’s knees began to knock. His heart was in his throat, and he knew his mouth was hanging open. The strap of the duffel bag suddenly felt slippery under his palm.
This beastly man was terrifying, and he did not look happy to see Usopp standing in his house.
Kureha entered, the front door slamming behind her like the closing of a crypt.
“Oh good, I didn't have to drag you down,” she said.
The giant grunted, his glare never leaving Usopp’s face.
Usopp was running escape routes in his mind, wondering if he could make a break for the door before it was too late. Before he could move, Kureha clapped him on the back, nearly making him stumble with the force. She shoved him forward, closer to the monster.
“This is Chopper,” Kureha said, gesturing at the giant.
Somehow, the giant’s scowl grew even fiercer.
“Chopper, this here is Usopp. He’s going to be your new foster brother.”