Everyone That’s Left
As far as celebrations went, it wouldn’t be one for the ages, but it was pretty damn good. They all crammed into Rammy’s apartment, the very thought of the dorms giving them all the collective creeps. There was drink, of course, late night food, and they all talked excitedly until one by one, they fell asleep.
Rammy and Mariya slipped away, passing out cold on Rammy’s bed. Janet and Dash and Annabella collapsed into a heap on the couch, sleeping noisily, but looking content. It made Oliver smile, just a little. He found pillows by the washer and dryer and dragged them out. Amylee watched from a recliner, mostly asleep. Oliver set up a little bed on the floor.
“Oliver,” Amylee said softly, as to not wake the others.
“Amy,” Oliver said.
“I am sorry. About Spencer.”
Oliver nodded. “I’m sorry about Crasher.”
Amylee nodded. “But you led me out of the worst day of my life. You led all of us. And for that I thank you.”
Oliver just nodded. “Happy to help.”
Amylee carefully got out of the chair. She sat on the floor with him. “I was so difficult. I could have made more friends, but I was difficult and scared and sad. And during that time, you always tried. This team always tried.” She took his hand and twined her fingers in his. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
Oliver hugged her. He was too tired to say anything profound. “We’re United,” he said.
“No,” Amylee said. “We are the Leftovers. We are your team now.”
Oliver smiled softly. “Really it’s my and Janet and Dash’s team, but…”
Amylee just shook her head. She arranged the pillows against the wall, grabbed her coat from the chair and sat back. Oliver slid back next to her. Amylee pulled her coat over the both of them, and they settled in, their heads resting on one another’s, and fell asleep.
The news didn’t have anything on the Ultimate League Championship the next day. It seemed like everyone had just forgotten. Rammy and Oliver went back to the Civic Center the next day. The banners were gone, the massive building wrap for the Finals disappeared as if it had never been there. Rammy’s card still worked, and the two of them set to cleaning out their stuff from the clubhouse and locker room. Later, she’d return to clean out Hal’s office.
One by one, the teams started to reappear. Their arenas were all still there, but any sign of the Ultimate League was just… missing. No one could say where they went, just that they had not been on this plane. They knew about the games, though, knew about what had happened. The Leftovers were heroes wherever they went. They’d want for nothing, as long as an Ultimate League player was around.
Reunions happened almost spontaneously at The Pavilions, the new impromptu nexus the Ultimate League players who had gone missing and returned. For days afterwards, there were never not people there, ready to receive players returning from the void.
Amylee kept watch over the Hangar in Alton, waiting for the Thunderbirds to come back. She set up on the field, taking a bucket of balls out with her, and pitched until she was too tired. When Oliver found out she was keeping vigil alone, he made the trip to Alton as often as he could, sometimes practicing batting with her, something just sitting in the dugout so that someone was there with her. Occasionally, Mariya and Rammy came around too, and they had lunch in the empty clubhouse.
One by one, people went back to their team dorms. They collected their belongings and moved out. None of it felt right any more, being that close to the Ultimate League. When the time came, Oliver returned to clean out his room. A film of dust covered everything. His things were fine, but the food in the fridge had spoiled long ago. He stayed only as long as he had to.
He got an apartment across the hall from Rammy’s. That felt right. That felt safe. Rammy and Mariya were right there. Dash, Janet, and Annabella all moved in to the complex. Amylee even showed interest, but didn’t want to leave Alton yet, not until the Thunderbirds came back.
The weeks now were long, but they were all close, never but a few minutes away. There were movie nights, and cook outs, and when Aston and Razija came back, they were brought in to the mix too. It felt like old times, or at least, less complicated times.
It was about two weeks after when Oliver found Elliot standing on the Civic Center’s field. He didn’t believe it at first, taking a bat with him as he approached. He spun her around, and she screamed, glassy eyed, frightened. And then she looked around.
“Donut?” She said, hesitantly.
Oliver stepped back. “Uh…”
“It is you!” She threw her arms around him, holding him close. “It worked!”
“You got your body back!” Oliver said, holding her out by her shoulders.
“It took a bit but I figured it out!” She hugged him again. “I need help from the coven, but I can get the others back.”
And she did, one at a time, bringing them through a door carved into existence. First Lafayette Ferret, then Zia Beastly. Oliver was there when Spencer came through, and bewildered, Spencer fell into Oliver’s arms, holding on to him until their shaking stopped.
Tommy Lombax and Jo Tuning came next, followed closely by Heater Pants. But for the last, Elliot wanted Amylee’s opinion specifically.
“That was rough, what you had to do,” Elliot said to her. “It was rough having someone who looks like a loved one try to kill you.”
Amylee side-eyed Elliot.
“Do you want this?” Elliot asked.
Amylee nodded. And when Crasher came through the gateway, Amylee rushed to hug them.
“I’m sorry,” Crasher said, holding her close. “I’m so, so sorry. I couldn’t stop them.”
Amylee hugged them closer. “Shhh. I know. I know…” Elliot left them alone to give them some privacy. She approached Oliver, who waited in the deserted locker room.
“We can open doors like that to anywhere,” Elliot said, slipping her hands in her pockets and leaning against the wall across from where Oliver sat. “In any dimension.”
Oliver looked up at her, exhausted, confused.
“The coven is working on it right now, but we can send home anyone who wants to go back.”
Oliver stared at the wall. “You want to know…”
“Do you want to go home?”
Oliver blinked. He had forgotten. “I…”
Elliot just nodded. “I understand. Maybe tonight isn’t the right time to answer.”
Spencer, though, wanted to. They wanted to go home.
“I can’t look at you,” they said, “without thinking about how I could have killed you. I can’t sleep at night thinking about it.”
Oliver listened tearfully. “I know it wasn’t you,” he said. “I know you weren’t doing it.”
“I remember all of it,” Spencer said. “Every moment. I remember how scared you looked.” They took Oliver’s hand. “I don’t know how I come back from that. I don’t know how we come back from that.”
Oliver didn’t know what to say to get Spencer to believe him. When the time came, he went with them to the witch that would open the gateway for them. As the witch opened the gateway, Spencer hugged Oliver, wiped away his tears.
“I’m sorry,” they said. “You deserve better.” They leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for everything.”
“Goodbye,” Oliver said softly. Spencer gave him a soft, sad smile, and walked out of his world.
Amylee unlocked the apartment and let herself in — it was okay, she had a key, and her presence wasn’t unexpected. Still, she did feel like maybe right now it was a little unwanted.
“Crash,” she called out softly into the darkened apartment. “It’s me, I’m coming in.”
Crasher had left few lights on, just one in the kitchen, and one in the bedroom. The rest of the apartment was nearly pitch black, except for a few fingers of light that slipped in between the shuttered blinds. Amylee crossed the room and opened the blinds, and cracked the window too, letting in the spring air. It was still a little chilly, but the fresh air was more important.
“Crash?” Amylee called out again. She went to the bedroom.
Crasher sat in a chair in the corner, huddled up, looking impossibly small, impossibly quiet, impossibly fragile. They looked up at Amylee, dark circles under their eyes, unsurprised, tired, scared.
“Hello,” Amylee said, standing in their doorway. “You’re awake.”
“Ta-da,” Crasher said softly. “I don’t know what time it is.”
“Just after noon.” She tilted her head. “Can I come in?”
Crasher met her eyes, and for a split second they smiled, tired and sad, but it was a smile. “You know you can.”
Amylee sat down on Crasher’s bed, across from them. “There’s a bag in the kitchen that has the tea you like. Also, I couldn’t find ‘Triple Blaster Hydrox,’ so I got you the normal kind.”
“This dimension is a nightmare,” they said. Amylee watched them carefully, watching to see what was a joke and what wasn’t. There was that smile again, and Amylee felt it wrap around her heart.
“Oh, look who is bringing out the jokes,” she said.
Crasher sighed. “Thank you.”
Amylee took their hand. “Always, any time you need.”
Crasher closed their eyes and rested their head on their knees. Amylee stroked their hair softly. Their roots were starting to show, pink giving way to a soft brown. “We need to dye your hair again. Get it ready for spring.”
“It’s okay…”
“No, you need to be looking your prettiest for everyone. It’s finally outdoors time!” She stroked their hair again. “Think of all the heads you’ll turn.”
Crasher pulled into themselves tighter. “No.”
“But they want to see you,” Amylee said. She took their hand again, stroking its top with her thumb. “They have been asking about you for weeks.”
Crasher said nothing, just hugged themself in the chair, their eyes squeezed shut.
“What about one at a time?” The cat asked. “We can get easy people. Mariya is begging to see you. She asks me to hug you every time. Or Oliver. Oliver would love to see you too.”
“I can’t,” they said. “I almost killed them.”
“You did not,” Amylee said.
“I remember everything. I remember what I did to the Thund-” They choked on the word. “I remember you standing on the mound, and how hurt you looked, and and and-” Tears flowed freely, and Crasher hastily wiped them away. “I could have gotten you killed. That could have been the last thing you ever saw, was me threatening you.”
Amylee stood. She wrapped her arms around Crasher, holding them close. “But you did not choose to do that. I know you. I know who you are.”
“How can you know?” They buried their face in the cat’s neck. She stroked their hair, not letting them go.
“You have always been here for me. Since the first day I met you, we helped each other. When I fell, you picked me up. When I lost my temper, you helped me calm down. You and I have cared for each other in the worst of times. I know your spirit. I know who Crasher Katz is, and they are not what was at the plate that day.” She nuzzled into their hair, closing her eyes. “You are Crasher Katz. You are the cutest catcher in the league, and I know who you are.”
Crasher, through tears, laughed. “I am pretty cute, huh?”
“There they are,” Amylee said, smiling. “You cannot ever resist.” She tugged at Crasher’s arm, pulling them back onto the bed, and she held them close. Crasher laid their head on her chest, their arms around her, and dozed.
“Will you try to come out to see people again?” She asked softly, idly playing with Crasher’s hair.
“If you’re there, I’ll try.”
“Of course I will be there,” she said.
“Just something quiet.”
“We can do lunch with someone. We can go see Rammy and Mariya. They seem like they always know the best take out. Razija showed Mariya crystals, and she’d love to tell you about every single one.”
Crasher laughed again. “I would love to hear about every single one.”
Amylee texted Rammy and Mariya, and then tossed her phone on the bed. They dozed together, until the sky started to glow orange in the receding light. Amylee stood and stretched, and started towards the kitchen.
“Wait,” Crasher said, a hint of panic wavering their voice. “Where are you going?”
“I brought some dinner. You need to eat.”
Crasher nodded. “You’re coming back, though?” Again, so small, so fragile. Amylee fought back the urge to cry.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Later, Crasher crept into a gathering, their hair freshly dyed, nails painted, looking and feeling, despite everything, cute as heck. No one noticed at first, they were all deep in conversation, or tossing bean bags around, or talking animatedly about their new lifelong hobby of mineralogy to notice. But someone did, Oliver, catching them out of the corner of his eye.
And at first, he stared, as if he couldn’t believe it. And then his face lit up. “Hey!” He ran over to Crasher, hugging them as hard as he could. Crasher hadn’t expected it, but they hugged back.
“Ha ha, hi,” they said softly. And when Oliver pulled them into conversation, they looked back for Amylee, who watched, smiling.
A week later, the Leftovers and the United had a cookout in the commons of the apartment complex. Aston steered Oliver to his side while he grilled, instead of letting him wallow alone at a table. Oliver went along with it, somewhat reluctantly, but he was happy it made Aston happy.
“I’m glad you’re here, man,” Aston said, poking at a burger.
Oliver nodded. “Thanks,” he said. He tried for something else, but got nothing.
“You know I never told my friends back home that I cared about them?” Aston said. “The ones I was playing fuzz ball with when I was brought here. Mike and Shaun and Luke and Marquis. I’d grown up with them, since elementary school. I’d die for them. But I never told them that.”
Oliver looked up at Aston, trying to read his expression. “I’m sure they knew.”
“Yeah, but did they?” Aston said, glancing at Oliver. “I could have told them. They would have known for sure. But that wasn’t me back then.”
“We’ve all changed,” Oliver said.
“Yeah, some of us are heroes,” Aston said.
Oliver’s ears dropped. “Stop. It’s weird.”
“You gotta get used to it someday,” Aston said. “Y’all put your lives on the line for us. We’d still be floating around out there somewhere forever. Or maybe the Regents would make a snack out of us.”
“I didn’t see any other choice,” Oliver said.
“Yeah, you see?” Aston started to flip the burgers he had. “Lotta folks out there that would have absolutely not stepped up. You stepped up. You did knowing you could have died. We all saw it.” He handed a plate to Oliver and began stacking finished burgers on it. “We won’t forget it. You shouldn’t either.”
Oliver nodded. “I won’t forget.”
“Good,” Aston said. He flipped a few more things on the grill. “You know I care about you, Oliver,” he said.
Oliver smiled. “That was hard for you to say…”
“Yeah,” Aston said. “But I’m trying.”
“I’m glad you are.” Oliver looked around the patio, at Elliot showing Razija how to do another spell, at Rammy and Mariya talking with Dash, at Janet and Annabella playing bocce ball with Amylee and Crasher. “I care about you too.”
Oliver accompanied Elliot to the train station on the day she left. They shared a long hug.
“This has been a weird year,” Elliot said.
Oliver laughed. “Yeah, but aren’t you used to weird?”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t having fun.”
“I’m glad you were here,” Oliver said, watching a train back into the station. “I don’t think I’d be here anymore if you hadn’t showed up.”
“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta watch out for you, and I know you never did.”
“Ha ha yeah…” Oliver looked off, embarrassed. “I’m trying to be better about it.”
“You’re so different,” Elliot said, smiling. “So different from the donut I remember.”
“Yeah, well, you are too,” Oliver said. “You’re confident and brave and kind of scary. And I love seeing it. It’s a good look for you.”
“You too. You’re so much more confident now. I can feel it. And who stood up to a bunch of asshole gods and won?”
“It’s all downhill from here,” Oliver said.
“You’re not scary, though. You’ll never be scary.”
“I’m good with that,” Oliver said.
The station announcer clicked the PA on. “Train 437 to The Atlantic Union is now boarding on track 12.”
“That’s me,” Elliot said. She hugged him one more time. “When you get things figured out, come visit me in Warwick sometime. You can meet all my cool witch friends.”
“I will totally come out and meet your cool witch friends.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another nervously. “What… what if they come back?”
“The Regents?” Elliot asked. “If they come back, then I come back. And I help fight them all over again.”
Oliver nodded. That helped. He still couldn’t help but think the Regents weren’t fully gone. But it helped.
“WAIT!”
Elliot turned, catching Razija running out of the station, a ticket in one hand and her suitcase in the other. She ran up next to Elliot.
“Sorry, traffic was awful,” Razija said.
“They just started boarding,” Elliot said warmly. “No worries.”
“You’re leaving?” Oliver asked, surprised. He hadn’t expected something like this to wound like it did. But he reminded himself that everyone had a choice to make.
“I’m going to go study magic!” Razija said, percolating with excitement.
“Oh hey! That’s neat!” Oliver looked at Elliot. “Is she your apprentice?”
And for the first time in a long time, Oliver saw the Elliot he knew, anxiety on her face like a bright flag in the wind. “Ah… ha ha uhm… I am not really a teacher? But I know a bunch that are. And she’ll get to learn from the best.”
Razija nodded happily. “I’ll miss you, Oliver.”
“I’ll miss you too. Send us letters!”
The station announcer called for their train again.
“Gotta go,” Elliot said. “Bye, buddy. Godspeed.”
“Goodbye. Be safe.”
Oliver watched the two of them board their train, watched the train leave the station. It all felt so final. He knew it wasn’t, he knew there was so much more.
He left the station, starting back to the the apartment. They all had been talking about the future. Eventually, they probably would need jobs. All of a sudden, they realized they had to remember what they did Before. Aston talked about opening up an import anime shop, and Amylee seemed to be exploring getting an inroad with the pro baseball team, to try out as a pitcher. She thought it might be too late, but she wanted to try. The rest of them had no idea at all, but they could all coast for, at worst, a few years.
Amylee finally closed the Hangar. The rest of the league came out for a memorial service for the team that fought for all them. The Leftovers stood with her when she closed the gate, standing and staring at the arena for a moment longer, just in case.
Sometimes, when Oliver wandered the city, he’d spot the stickers, Thunderbirds logos slapped onto stop signs, The Hustle spray-painted in a bright mural, the Leftovers logo on windows, on bumper stickers. He’d see names on walls, Giggle and Joon-Ho and Lafayette and Dino and Lance and Ali and Fish. Sometimes he’d stop to look them over, and he’d catch someone across the street, or down the sidewalk, looking too. Sometimes they noticed, and when they recognized him, they nodded. Oliver always nodded back. Amylee sent him a picture one day, a photo of the Hangar, all of the Thunderbirds in a mural on the side. Whoever had painted it, put their names there too, Indra and Edgar and Shiny and Gil and Billie and Nigel and Hubert and Rosalyn, and of course, Amylee, her own portrait staring the viewer down. The artist had painted “God Killer” under her. Aston informed Oliver there was a mural of The Leftovers in an alley close to the Civic Center Arena. He kept meaning to go see it.
Rammy and Oliver worked out in the Civic Center clubhouse until their cards stopped working. They had cleaned out everything by then, except for Hal’s office. While they were cleaning that out, Rammy found a box of envelopes addressed to each member of the United. They opened their own, discovering a complete set of Tlopps cards for the first year of the Return of Corkball. They opened the packs inside, finding their own, finding their teams and their friends, finding the Brick City Hustle players, and all of the legacy players that didn’t make it to the end. They laid the cards out on the table, and put Hal at the top. As far as Oliver knew, this shrine was still there, still in the empty stadium.
There was a note on his door when he got back to his apartment. Janet was hosting a get together. There was no reason, other than they wanted to be around each other. He got ready in his apartment. He’d make something quick to take over.
There’d be times when they’d need to be there for each other, long nights and hard days, worried phone calls in the middle of the night. There would be celebrations, and achievements, and failures. Maybe someday they’d attend each other’s weddings. Maybe there’d be kids running around their get togethers.
There would not be corkball. They all kept their bat, kept a ball, kept their uniforms, displayed in the living rooms, on shelves, shoved in the back of their closets. They would always remember, but they would not play again.
Oliver took a plate of food with him to Janet’s. Maybe one day they’d all move out of this complex, away from each other. Maybe to different cities. Maybe to the other side of the world.
But right now, as they all collected together, as they all embraced, said each other’s names, none of that mattered. Right now, they were home.
We’ll Carry On…
TRANSCRIPT FROM UNKNOWN TRANSMISSION
VOICE 1: IT’S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN!
VOICE 2: Right you are, Slicey. Once again, it’s time for Ultimate League Speed Golf. And what a season we have in store.
SLICEY(?): The field this year is shaking up to be exciting, Cyan. With Patterson seemingly retired-
CYAN(?): More like MIA. Does anyone know where they went?
SLICEY: Well, their absence has opened up the field, and we’ve seen a wave of new players.
CYAN: I have my eye on Lott this year. She’s aggressive, she has an eye for shots, and she’s not to be messed with.
SLICEY: And Garbage is looking to be anything but. An all around balanced player, she’s not to be estimated in any sort of way.
CYAN: And don’t forget the newest entrant to the league. They’ve been quiet, but they already seem like a fan favorite. Hang on, they wrote their name down… It just say Bibby, and there’s a smiley face…
SLICEY: Glad to see some enthusiasm from the new players. And I am sure we will see that on the green.
CYAN: Right you are, Slicey. And when we come back, we’ll take a look at the new courses in the schedule.
[The transmission becomes increasingly garbled here, until unintelligible]
END TRANSMISSION