Battle of the Beasts. Ned Vizzini

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      “It started with that hotel, the Days Inn,” said Will, turning to Cordelia. “That’s where you advised me to stay the evening we came back from our … adventures.”

      “I remember,” Cordelia said. “That’s also when you agreed to meet me at school the next day.”

      “Yes, but you can’t imagine how difficult it is, being a visitor to the future. It’s quite disorienting. From the moment I left your house, I started seeing things that boggled me. You know, where I’m from, Saint Paul’s Cathedral is the tallest thing around. I arrive in San Francisco, I’m looking at the Transamerica Pyramid!”

      “I’m sorry,” Cordelia said. “I never should have sent you away without preparing you—”

      “No need to feel guilty,” said Will. “We had all just been through an exhausting journey. None of us were thinking clearly. I’m just so happy to finally see you!”

      “What happened that first night?”

      “I arrived at Days Inn,” said Will. “The man at the front desk brought me to my room, where there was a large box that displayed moving pictures. It was loudly playing some panto about a yellow-skinned family that ate pink doughnuts—”

      “The Simpsons!” said Brendan. “Classic show.”

      “Hideous show!” said Will. “I just wanted to get some sleep. But I couldn’t find the lever to turn off the box. So I went back and asked the man for help, and he muttered, ‘Crazy limey lunatic.’”

      “Uh-oh,” Brendan said.

      “I didn’t appreciate being insulted by this person who, to be honest, smelled like my nether regions after a long air battle. I told the man, ‘Your Days Inn operation is an embarrassment. Our hotel standards are much higher in London!’ He said, ‘Then go back to your country, Sally.’ Now why would he call me ‘Sally’?”

      “No clue,” said Brendan.

      “And then,” continued Will, “he said something very nasty about the Royal Family. And that … put me over the edge.”

      “So what did you do?” asked Eleanor.

      “I punched him.”

      “Oh jeez,” said Cordelia.

      “He went down like a sack of bricks and gave me my money back.”

      “So why didn’t you come to us?” said Cordelia. “We would have helped you.”

      “I had this mad notion,” said Will, “that if I could just get into an aeroplane … I could fly back to London.”

      “Home,” Cordelia said sadly.

      “Exactly. Where it might be easier to acclimatise to this time. And then, after I got my bearings, I would return to San Francisco, reunite with you lot.”

      “Don’t tell me you went to the airport,” said a cautious Brendan.

      “Yes,” said Will, “and when I arrived, I asked a woman if I could please fly a plane.”

      “Are you insane?” asked Eleanor.

      “That’s exactly what she said,” said Will. “But I told her, ‘How can you deny a war hero the right to fly?’”

      “Aeroplanes are kind of different these days,” said Brendan.

      “I realise that,” said Will. “But with my experience, I figured it would take a day, maybe two, to learn.”

      The Walkers exchanged a roll-eyed glance. Even though he was living on the streets, Will’s ego was healthier than ever.

      “The woman refused my request,” said Will. “So I was left with only one option. Climb over the runway fence—”

      “Oh no.”

      “Find an unoccupied aeroplane—”

      “Bad move.”

      “Climb into the cockpit, and learn the controls.”

      “So what happened?” asked Eleanor.

      “I didn’t even get halfway up the fence before I found myself surrounded by eight bobbies!” said Will. “They took me to the station house, and when I asked the desk sergeant to call the Walker family on Sea Cliff Avenue, I was told there was no one by that name on that street.”

      “Wait … I know,” said Cordelia. “We had just moved, so we were probably still listed at our old address.”

      “The next morning I met with my court-appointed lawyer, and I told him the truth: how I was originally a character in a novel about World War One, how I met you three …”

      “I’ll bet that went down well,” said Brendan.

      “The lawyer told me I could be let off on account of being mentally unwell, and after a few weeks in city jail, that’s what happened. I hit the streets, scavenging garbage containers for food, begging for money, and here I am.”

      “Why didn’t you contact us?” asked Cordelia. “We would have helped.”

      “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” said Will. “Down so low. But this morning I realised, after spending three weeks in the Tenderloin, being screamed at by pedestrians, kicked, punched by drug addicts, spit on by gang members … I knew I had to come back, that I had to find you. I realised that if I didn’t see you all again, I would die a second time.”

      Will looked down, then up. There was a sad flatness to his voice. “So what are you going to do with me?”

      

      The entire time Will spoke, Cordelia had run her tongue along her teeth. It was a nervous response to his tale, which she felt responsible for. She should have known better than to send him downtown. While she had spent the last few weeks worrying about the Student Tutoring Programme, he had been worried about eating.

      “I’m taking you home, getting you cleaned up, and giving you some money,” she said, grabbing Will’s hand.

      “But Cordelia. You said that your parents—”

      “They’re gone. Dad is off at some conference—”

      “Gambling, you mean,” Eleanor cut in.

      “And Mom is at … what day is it, Friday? She’s at the gym. C’mon, Will. You’ve been through enough.”

      “Um … Cordelia, can I talk to you in private?” Brendan asked.

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