No Further Data On Annie, A *HEARTBREAKING* Call Back (Former)Home For Pinocchio/"Maybe..."
*WHAT a stroke of unbelievable luck*!! Annie was *FINALLY* going to get a chance to see her records- hopefully make a breakthrough on finding her parents...!
Even though she and Pinocchio were nowhere near close, he was still of course rooting for her and crossing his fingers as she waited as patiently as she could in line at the Family Services office. *Oh, pleasepleasepleasePLEASE* let there be nothin' but *GOOD news* for her and them... They all loved each other so much-
At last, after what seemed like FOREVER, Annie reached the front of the line and was called forward by a stocky stern-faced female government worker with her gray-streaked dark hair pinned up in a bun whose name-tag read: 'MS. KOVACEVIC'.
"I'd like to see my records, please," Annie said politely with a bright smile.
"You need DOH form number four-three-eight-zero-,"
"Point-seven-dash-A."
"And forty-three dollars and-,"
"Thirty-five cents. Yes, ma'am; right here!"
"...Application signed by a parent or guardian."
"*Bam*- all right here, ma'am."
Stunned and surprised at the show of maturity for a skinny little eight to ten-year-old girl, Ms. Kovacevic took the correct form and amount of cash from Annie's hands and began typing her information into the computer. Annie (and a semi-hidden Pinocchio) watched her every move; at least, until-
"*Ahem*. Are you just going to stare at me the whole time?"
"Sorry, ma'am- no, ma'am."
Another patient-as-possible waiting game until Ms. Kovacevic handed Annie a certain printed sheet on paper.
"Um... could you please read it? I'm too nervous."
Again, *strange* ...but certainly understandable.
Ms. Kovacevic sighed, but complied since Annie had been polite. "Annie Bennett- abandoned outside the Twenty-Sixth Precinct. Age at time estimate: four years. Placed in foster care. -No further data."
-Wait. *WHAT*??
"What does that mean, ma'am?"
"It means that's *all there is* to know about you. Sorry, honey."
Pinocchio felt stunned, dazed, and *HURT* on Annie's part. No- *no*... It couldn't be. This was supposed to be The Day that she'd get a good lead on her mother and father! -But it wasn't.
And he could clearly see that ever-optimistic Annie was *FORCING a smile* and holding back tears. She'd bounce back later (he hoped), but right now?? He wouldn't be at all surprised if she had herself a good if small cry in private.
"-It's okay. I'll figure it out. Thanks anyway, ma'am."
Annie slowly walked out of the office. Pinocchio made to follow her, but-
"NO. *Way*. *PINOCCHIO* himself??? What are you doing here??! Your father must be WORRIED SICK all over again, young man! Here- you- c'mon forward! We'll call him from here; let you know where you are. And where's your cricket friend/conscience?? You not listen to him again?"
Pinocchio startled and froze, his eyes blown even wider in his slack-yet-stiff face gone white under his freckles. Clearly, Ms. Kovacevic was either a fan or just really well-read ...*and a witch*, since he FELT the power from her, saw *a WAND* in her hand that hadn't been there before, and must have cast a blurring barrier spell because everyone else just went about their own business, taking no notice of a suddenly-scolding government worker and a stunned startled slightly scared semi-former puppet-boy who happened to be not only Fae-touched but half-Fae himself. She would Summon him if he didn't make a move himself...
-So *what else* could he do but meekly and obediently come forward himself, this line for the moment no longer there anymore?
Once he was in her line of sight and right before her desk, Ms. Kovacevic nodded briskly before reaching into her purse and pulling out a small compact mirror. Then-
"Yours' and your father's last name?"
"T-Tom- Tommaso."
"Your full name?"
"...'Pinocchio Edward Benjamin Belmagio-Tommaso'."
"-*Right*. Calling Italian woodcarver and/or toymaker Geppetto Tommaso for his son Pinocchio Edward Benjamin Tommaso. This is New York government worker from Family Services Irene Kovacevic speaking. You seem to have lost something again, 'signore'..."
Half a minute later, there was a muffled angry thump, sound of stomping footsteps, and then Geppetto Bosely Tommaso's anger-twisted and reddened, age-lined, bearded and mustached face came into view rather than Ms. Kovacevic's own reflection, his pale blue eyes like chips of ice or azure stone behind his glasses, and he SNARLED in his thickly-accented slightly rough voice, "Oh for the love of 'Cristo e Madre Maria', WHY THE *HELL* are you contacting me about that- that- *that boy*??! I don't need or want him- I have my Carlo back; my *REAL TRUE son*, thanks to good Professor Buonragazzo! I have my *GOOD boy* back (even if he's too close to that fiery-headed orphan street-brat for my liking as much as 'carina piccola' Twinkle) ...meaning I don't need any more *FREAKS* or BRATS cluttering up my house. -Meaning *I NEVER want to see that puppet's ugly freakish little face again*! *NE-VER*; *do you hear me*, signora?!"
Now Pinocchio's own eyes heated and dampened as he felt like the woodcarver had slapped him across or punched him in the face, then lashed a whip dipped in acid across his back until he was a bleeding mess. His white face BURNED from shame, mortification, betrayal, and hurt.
Ms. Kovacevic, on her part, was stunned stupid- and very upset. She *FOUGHT* to keep a professional-enough face and tried to argue in favor of the lost boy in her workplace on his behalf. "But- but-! He- you- *SURELY* you love and miss him; were worried just *a little bit*...! Who- Who knows HOW LONG he's been all by himself or possibly in bad hands-??"
Another whip-lash, kick to the stomach, and backhand across his face when Geppetto's eyes and face didn't soften or warm even the slightest in response to the Family Service employee's argument/plea. He hissed coldly and venomously, "'Tis as Baroness Rodmilla de Ghent of 'Ever After' said of her stepdaughter Danielle: *how can anyone love a pebble in their shoe*? *GOODBYE*. *Don't you DARE* contact me again!! It's been FOUR YEARS of peace, quiet, love, and joy; of *PERFECTION* once more. I see no reason to disrupt it or change anything just to take back- *him*. It. That *THING* I carved years ago in attempt to bring Carlo back! Read my lips: *I. HATE. Him.* I. *DON'T. Care. About. That- that- *worthless useless little pig-dropping* anymore than Dottore Frankenstein really truly cared about his turned-out-abomniable-rather-than-handsome Creature/Monster...!"
With that *AWFUL* last, Geppetto's face disappeared to be replaced with Ms. Kovacevic's own reflection. And there was a muffled sharp splintering CRASH... like a mirror being broken. That severed the magical network just as much.
Now tears welled up and glittered in Ms. Kovacevic's eyes as she sorrowfully looked down at a *HURT* broken Pinocchio, whose own big bright blue orbs were abrim to the point of spilling over down his stippled Casper-shaded cheeks and dripping off either his small chin or elongated-button nose, his sweet-lipped mouth set and quivering at the same time while his small fingerlessly-white-gloved hands balled up into tight rock-solid fists at his sides.
"I'm- *I'm sorry*, honey. *I'm SO SORRY*. I only- I just wanted to-," Ms. Kovacevic said haltingly and quietly, her formerly-stern no-nonsense grey eyes now *SCREAMING* a profuse apology as well. "...I just wanted to help. That's- That's my job. Why I *GOT this job*."
Not since That Day and his very first lonesome night as Miss Hannigan's newest ward back then had Pinocchio felt so miserable and heartbroken. As though so-called 'good' Geppetto had crushed the shattered bits and pieces of his heart and soul further and ground them to a fine dust under his boot after ripping both out of his chest to KILL HIM in order to bring back his dear precious beloved *DEAD* Carlo. His *REAL son*. His TRUE son. His good perfect handsome obedient non-freakish boy...
It took every ounce of strength and heart he had left to muster a kind understanding smile that *just* reached his hot wet eyes and utter just as polite as you please (as much was possible), "It's- 'S okay, Signora Kovacevic. I'm- 'M not mad at you. Y-You just- wanted t' help me g-get back h-ho- home; let- let my f-fath- father know wh-where I was. You- You tried... I-It was awful sw-sweet 'n nice 'f you, but ...well, you h-heard him. He- *he HATES me*. D-DOESN'T want me back. -*EVER*. *Never, never*.
"But- Th-Thank you for t-tryin', I guess. ...B-'Bye."
Ms. Kovacevic tearfully smiled back at the small-framed thin freckled teen with long thick black hair and large sweet blue eyes dressed in colorful slightly-quirky clothing that was a bit faded and worn, but clean, as were his locks, face, and skin. Fairly well-taken care of, even if not loved and adored- much less to the point of being pampered and spoiled with every luxury and comfort by a tender doting father... But clearly *STARVED* for love, warmth, affection, a *REAL home*, and an actual family as much as just about any orphaned or cast-out protagonist in classic and popular literature, film, and/or television.
Poor boy... He must live in an orphanage or foster-home like that spunky little curly-headed girl with big grey eyes wearing a pink hoodie, and probably had ever since he'd come from Italy to the States.
"'Arrivedeci', honey. -Best of luck. Have a blessed day."
She knew- she was magical herself. So Pinocchio simply disappeared from Family Services in a softly-chiming beam of starlight rather than walked out the door like Annie had, leaving Ms. Kovacevic to dry her eyes, compose herself for the moment, disspell the Blurring Barrier and See-Me-Not spells, and call out "*Next*!" to the person who had been in line after Annie. (-But she was going to BAWL once she got home. And cuddle with her cat on the couch if not her bed. Then go into a blistering rant about Geppetto's so-called relationship with Pinocchio on YouTube and post it.
King Agnarr and Queen Iduna of 'Frozen' were MOST DEFINITELY *BETTER parents* than he, after all, rather than the other way around...!!!)
*********************************************************************************************************************************************
For the very first time in his life, Pinocchio *DIS-obeyed* his guardian's orders concerning Annie. He DIDN'T follow her- didn't use his magic to track her, or physically look for her. He had an Alert Charm located on the buttons of his over-sized unbuttoned over-shirt. If there was *DANGER*, THEN he'd rush or flash straight to her rescue.
Right now, though?? He wasn't just heartbroken or crushed after THAT entirely unexpected happening- he. Was. *GUTTED*. ANGUISHED. Felt as though a Dementor was slowly and painfully sucking out his soul, a Lethifold devouring him bit by bit, or one of Aragog's children injecting their deadly venom into him one drop at a time.
He didn't care WHERE he ended up- he just wanted to find a quiet fairly safe place to curl up, bury his face in his hands or arms, and cry until he couldn't shed one more 'raindrop' or choke out another sob from the betrayal, grief, and heartbreak all over again. And so he squinched down and burrowed up against what felt like a wall outside- then he hugged his knees so tight it almost hurt, *DUG his face* into them, ...and let out a mewling hiccuping sob before bursting into a flood of bitter tears. Ironically, at the same time, a light-ish rain began to fall, soaking Pinocchio's whole curled-up quaking being as much as his face.
He sorrowfully wept for almost an hour, at times practically *SCREAMING pure soul-wrenching grief* as well as sniffling, sobbing, whimpering, and mewling. He *wailed*- BAWLED. If he'd been crying into a pillow, it would have been sodden from case to cushion- and a handkerchief, no matter how large, would have been USELESS.
He knew that she had just been trying to help, but- ohhhhh, HOW he wished *she HADN'T*!! Had just left him alone- let him go about his business; do HIS job...! 'Keep Christmas in your way, and let me keep it in mine', so to speak-
Hadn't he been broken and shoved aside ENOUGH the first time around??!? *WHY*- *whywhyWHY* did she have to go and rip apart his heart and shatter his soul all over again, unintentional on her part though that had been!?? -*Why hadn't she just let him be*...?
He *WELL knew* what his creator/ex-father thought of him- he *had NOT* needed it shoved, rubbed, and ground into his face until he was CHOKING ON it...!
No offense to Annie and her cheerful optimistic mantra, but there was *NO* Tomorrow for Pinocchio and Geppetto- no 'maybe'. It was and would always truly be a '*NEVER*', forever dark, rainy, and cloudy; not one single cobweb and sorrow cleared away in that small grey lonely house. The only Tomorrow that was TODAY was between *Geppetto and CARLO*...
All that *Pinocchio Orfano* could ever possibly wish for to come true where his boyfriend Nuka *WASN'T concerned* was to be adopted. To leave his cold comfortless distant foster-home that was Miss Colleen Hannigan's semi-orphanage before he reached the age of majority... -But would he EVER find himself safe, warm, and loved in a place that wasn't the former other Lion Prince's arms? Or was that nothing more than *JUST a dream* as well...?
Suddenly, his ears caught the sound of a soft tiny meow that trailed into a sneeze, and he just barely felt a small nose nudge and nuzzle him- the nose of a cat or kitten. -He also felt *how WET* not just his face was as he sniffled, hiccuped, and drew a shuddering ragged breath and lifted his heavy slightly aching flushed head; then let loose a sneeze himself as he shivered.
"O-Oh! *Oh my gosh*! It's- it was RAINING while- it's *STILL raining*!" he cried softly, looking down at the little sopping brown-cream-and-black tabby kitten with gold-green eyes crouching and shivering at his side while alternately mewling and sneezing. "Oh- awww, 'poverino' (you poor thing)...! You're SOAKED, *and* chilled t' the bone! You'll- You'll get awful sick, bein' out in th' wet 'n cold like this! H-Here; lemme- L-Let me make some kind 'f shelter, and then I'll dry you off so you won't literally c-catch your death 'f cold. Ah- *achoo*! Um- he-he... I'd- I'd b-better dry m'self off t-too, or *I'LL get sick* from bein' out in the rain without a coat."
With that, Pinocchio waved his hand and muttered a spell under his breath. The next second, there was a sturdy thick archway over his and the kitten's heads and a nice soft thick blanket underneath them, and two towels appeared in Pinocchio's hands that he'd transfigured from two spare pieces of wood. He prepared to coax and soothingly sweet-talk the 'gattino' over, since kittens were usually skittish (especially strays)- but he was *PLEASANTLY surprised* when he-or-she trustingly walked over to the strange boy with a funny nose, spots inside of stripes, big sweet blue eyes, and a kind gentle assuring air about him.
"That's it- that's right," Pinocchio murmured sweetly while carefully holding out his arms. "C'mon, 'tesorino'- I won't hurt you. I promise..."
Not once did the kitten scratch, bite, struggle, or fidget when he was gently picked up and held close, instead settling down into Pinocchio's arms and purring as though they'd known each other from the moment the former was born. He DID fuss and protest a bit while being tousled dry in a towel, but that was understandable; Pinocchio wouldn't really like being jostled, either.
"Aww- there, now. That's it; that's a good ...boy. Good 'micio' (kitty)- nice 'micio'; pretty 'micio'... You are *the CUTEST* most adorable kitten I've ever seen- *'si', you are*! Such a handsome 'piccolo gentiluomo'...
"There we go- all nice 'n dry. See? That feels awful better, doesn't it? Here- l-lemme just set you on this crate for now s-so *I* can dry off; okay? Just- Just for a couple 'f minutes- I promise. I- I don't wanna get you all wet again."
The kitten pouted, but stayed put while Pinocchio rubbed his own towel over his hair, skin, and body, uttering a Drying Charm where his shoes, socks, and clothes were concerned. Then he pulled a now-dry kerchief out of his jeans pocket, carefully dried his raw-feeling cheeks and swollen sore eyes, and blew his nose once he'd sat back down in/under his makeshift shelter to keep the rain out.
His new little friend jumped right back onto his lap, mewing and licking his hand. 'What's wrong??' he seemed to say. 'Why were you crying like that?'
Pinocchio's eyes stung again as a new lump of salt formed in his throat, his broken half-empty heart giving a heaving 'pang' and hurting soul Cracking a la Casita at the Madrigals' *WORST* when it came to each other. "It's- It's- That's kind 'f a long story, 'occhioni'. And not- n-not really a *HAPPY one*, either."
The tiny tabby purred and rubbed his striped furry head against Pinocchio's arm and stomach. 'Please try to tell me as best as you can, anyway?? *Pretty please*? You're SAD, and I don't like it. -You smell like someone close to you *DIED*.'
'Nocchi caught his lip between his teeth and rubbed it, blinking his blurred anew baby-blues. Then he drew in and let out a deep shaky breath and began to talk while gently petting the little feline cuddled up on his lap. He was *so SOFT* and WARM- *ALIVE*. The vibrations of his purrs and heartbeat lightly throbbed under Pinocchio's fingers. So different from dear Bagheera- so similar yet not to Nuka or little Leah...
"...M-My father *HATES* me. Y' know- in real life. All he ever wanted was CARLO- th-that's why he carved me in the f-first place. He only ever wanted *Carlo BACK*; *NEVER* me myself, as I am! My- My 'madre' hates me, too- thinks I should've *never been born*, b'cause she's not ever wanted children of her own. Which is really funny- *WHY*, then, did she fall for a guy who *LOVED children*, if all she's ever wanted was t' be a famous opera singer??
"She- She- After Fath- *he* actually surprisingly got Carlo back, she- she blasted me far away from Italy 'n Europe until I landed on Miss Hannigan's doorstep. 'Si'- really-truly. *Miss Hannigan*! She's- SHE'S not really cruel or evil, but ...she's still not really very warm 'r caring. And- And I'm no closer t' any 'f my foster-sisters, either- not even Annie or Molly. They- They don't really like me b'cause I'm kinda her 'yes-man' 's well as mostly a servant. Like- L-Like Cinderella, Sara Crewe, Yoshioka Haru, Casper McFadden the Friendly Ghost, or Harry Evans-Potter where *THEIR friends 'n family* are concerned. -Like Quasimodo, Erik, Edward Scissorhands, or Doctor Frankenstein's Creature bein' all alone in the world 'n isolated from everyone else b'cause 'f something they couldn't help. I'm- I- ...I just might 's well be *invisible*, if not meanly considered the Basher John t' Miss Colleen's Ma Grunter from 'The Ickabog'."
(There was no telling if the kitten knew *ANYTHING* of what and whom Pinocchio was referring to, but it didn't matter to the former. He just wanted to comfort the heartbroken sometimes still-literal living doll and help him feel at least a little better.)
"I- I don't even have a *real ROOM*. I- I sleep *in a cupboard* like Harry did, b-because 'there's no room left in the inn'. There's only t-two bedrooms in our apartment: one for Miss Hannigan, 'n one for my foster-sisters that has THREE BUNK-BEDS. M-My bed's just a pile/nest 'f spare blankets 'n pillows.
"It's a *REAL good* thing that I'm NATURALLY small for my age, or I would've been awful *CRAMPED*!"
The little grimalkin meowed sadly and pouted again, looking up at Pinocchio with his big golden-green eyes. '*That's not fair*- that's not RIGHT! You're sweet and nice; you *DESERVE* to have an actual bed, room, and family of your own! *Meanies*- HMPH!'
Pinocchio couldn't help smiling a bit at the clear anger and upset for him, his shattered heart thrumming and warming somewhat. Boy, Mrs. Sally and King Poseidon had HIT THE ROOF and almost stormed right over to chew Miss Hannigan out when he had told them this after meeting Nuka and Percy...! It had taken them fifteen minutes to (mostly) calm down- and they STILL didn't like it anymore than their sons, or how cold and distant Pinocchio's foster-'family' was towards him.
Mothers- fathers. Wait...
"Hey- where's *YOUR mama or papa*??" Pinocchio wanted to know. "Didja get separated from either 'f them? Are they- Gone? -Or are you alone like me?"
The kitten mewed sadly at that first, but shook his head at the latter two.
"It's- It's okay," 'Nocchi tried to smile assuringly while still gently caressing his little friend's head and back. "You'll find her- sh-she'll find you. You- You love each other very much, so... O-Only stands t' reason, right?"
'Yeah- I guess,' the brown tabby chirruped.
"...You 'n Annie are awful lucky, y' know," 'Nocchi near-whispered to him. "B-Both 'f you have parents who truly honestly love 'n care for you, e-even if they're far away for a little while or years. I- I don't. 'M a forsaken outcast- practically an orphan m'self. (Heck- it's now *my last name*: 'Orfano'. Italian for 'orphan'. Oh gee, did everyone at school LAUGH 'n make fun of me for that, b'fore I graduated day b'fore yesterday...!)
"I've never really been loved by ANYONE save for my friend-turned-'ragazzo' Nuka 'n his family. ...But even if it's not with h-*HIM* or HER, I- I still want t' be part 'f a *REAL family*, big, medium-sized, or small. Have an *honest-to-gosh* home. I wanna have a home 'n family like Nuka, Percy, and Leah do..."
Pinocchio sighed and yearningly stared out at the still-falling sprinkle of summer rain. Every now and then, a tear or two leaked from his pools for eyes and dripped down his face. He ACHED to be held close, hugged, kissed, and rocked while someone stroked his hair and rubbed his back- to be somewhere *WARM*, tender, bright, and happy rather than cold and dark on the inside for all there was heat and light.
-Was there possibly someone else who was just as lonely, hurting, and broken as he out there, too? A couple with just one child- a barren 'throuple'- a single mother or father- or someone *single PERIOD*? Were THEY crying and longingly looking out at the rain while they waited in vain hopes of a someone who could fill *THEIR empty heart(s)*??
Was he, she, or they looking for a boy or girl to love, whether he-or-she was a tiny baby, little kid, preteen, or teenager?
*Maybe*. Just maybe...
Softly, gently, almost as though he were crooning a lullaby to a sick or fussy baby or little boy-or-girl crying from a nightmare, he began to sing, pouring his heart and soul out in a different way than previously.
~"Maybe far away,
Or maybe *real nearby*,
He may be pouring her coffee-
She may be straightening his tie...
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill,
She's sittin' playin' piano,
Or sittin' payin' a bill...
Betcha they're young;
Betcha they're *SMART*-
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays 'n art...
Betcha *they're GOOD*-
Why shouldn't they be?
-Hope they won't mind
A *mistake or freak* like me...
So maybe now *it's TIME*,
And maybe when I wake,
They'll be there calling me 'baby'-
*Maybe*..."~
What were they like- his hopefully one-day parent(s)??? At the very most, he hoped they were *SOMEWHAT kind*. Their bein' handsome or not didn't matter to him, or 'cool', much less 'proper'. Maybe she was a lawyer or a doctor who especially helped poor people... Maybe he played beautiful songs on the piano or guitar for a hobby and sewed beautiful clothes for a living...
Maybe they were both toymakers or carpenters as well (wouldn't *that* be kinda funny, but still awful nice?)...
~"Maybe they have kids,
Or maybe still waitin' for that joy-
Could they be Healers, or lawyers??
-Maybe they also carve toys...
Maybe she's alone-
Or he's loved and wed;
Are they just an aunt and uncle
Looking for *THEIR little woodenhead*...?
Betcha she reads,
Betcha *he SEWS*;
Maybe he'd make me
A CLOSET of clothes...
Maybe they're strict;
As *straight as a line*-
Don't really care,
As long as *they're MINE*...!
-So maybe now this prayer's
The last one of its' kind...
*Won't you please come get your baby*?
-Maybe..."~
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Just then, not only did the rain in Pinocchio's area mostly stop, but he suddenly felt a sharp hot jolt while a certain name and figure flashed through his brain. He gasped and stood upright, his face turning ghost-white. *DangerdangerdangerDANGER*...!!!
"-*Annie*!!" he gasped in fear and horror, instantly starbeaming himself over to where his Alert Charm was directing him.
A minute later, there was only the little brown tabby kitten now curled up under the makeshift shelter behind an abandoned apartment building. Though he was soon joined, scolded, groomed, and prickingly kissed and nuzzled lovingly by a lovely orange-and-cream adult female cat. *THIS mama* had come back to get her darling baby...
A mama cat by the name of 'Spring' who scented something strangely sweet and *SAD* on her little Figaro's fur and vowed then and there to instantly adopt that boy as hers' and Figaro's human pet if they ever saw him again- the tearful boy who'd been so kind to her naughty little kitten after he'd wandered off and gotten lost in the rain and smelled like Christmas trees, ripe apples and peaches, semisweet chocolate, lavender, blue and white roses, violets, tea, and peppermint.