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Gladstone bit into the egg tart in his hand, sighing when he tasted the custard in his tongue. His beak caught the crumbs – he was practically an expert at it, at this point – and decided that it didn’t matter he’d been eating the Macaw-style egg tart every single day in his indefinite stay in the city; he would never be tired of it.
His phone buzzed on the table, and he set down the egg tart and brushed his fingers against a napkin to get rid of errant crumbs. With practiced taps and swipes, he unlocked the phone and opened the newly received message, and immediately rolled his eyes with fond exasperation.
[11:06 AM] Donaldo:
you haven’t said anything in a while. are you okay?
He quickly typed a response and sent it.
[11:07 AM] Me:
i’m fine
i forgot because i’m too busy winning in the casinos
do you want anything? i got a lot of cash from the slots
i can send you egg tarts
they’re delicious
He took another bite from the egg tart and took a sip from the coffee cup. The ocean breeze blew salty air into his eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision from salt. His phone buzzed again.
[11:07 AM] Donaldo:
some words every now and then to tell me you’re still alive would be great, thanks
He rolled his eyes again.
[11:08 AM] Me:
you don’t nag fethry to text you more
how come i get naggy texts every few days
[11:09 AM] Donaldo:
fethry’s underwater and in the lab, he has no reception or wifi
you on the other hand always have internet access
also idk if egg tarts can survive the long trip
[11:10 AM] Me:
aw
maybe i can bring some if i decided to go back to duckburg after this then
[11:10 AM] Donaldo:
fine
enjoy your stay
call if you need anything
[11:11 AM] Me:
i doubt i will but thaksn anw
Gladstone set the phone down on the table and pushed the last bite of the egg tart into his mouth, savoring the taste.
Macaw had been good for him.
It hadn’t seem so, at first. Sure, he won the plane ticket to Macaw at a raffle he decided to enter on a whim and he only won it because the person whose number was chosen didn’t show up and they had to choose another one – which was his – and sure, the plane encountered some problems and the flight had to be delayed by five hours, and sure, there was a lot of turbulence, but Macaw itself greeted Gladstone like an old friend.
In a way, it almost felt like Macaw was designed perfectly for Gladstone. He’d won vouchers to stay at different hotels for free, which helped with housing, and the game of chance at the casinos that littered the place made sure he always had enough money to keep himself fed and pay for hotels for the days he didn’t have free stay vouchers. There was always the good ol’ twenty dollar bill (or the Macanese pataca in this case, sometimes Hong Kong dollar) when he was in need for immediate cash, and there were also the scattered vouchers he kept finding in random places.
It had been two weeks, and Gladstone had decided that he liked Macaw. He finished his coffee, stood and stretched, and left the seaside café to walk around in the park nearby. He always liked walking around there, when he didn’t feel like hitting up another casino or visiting other tourist attractions. There were times when he felt like visiting the museums, but he’d decided that today wasn’t a Museum Visit Day. That would be tomorrow, if he felt like it or something more interesting didn’t come up. Today felt like a good Walk Among the Trees Day and that meant the park.
He found a twenty pataca bill on the side of the road and pocketed it as he entered the park. There were children playing with a ball and it shot to Gladstone’s general area, but as usual he was lucky enough to avoid getting hit. Soon, he found a nice bench in the shade and sat, enjoying his food and simply letting himself breathe in the fresh air.
He closed his eyes, canted his head back as he slumped into the seat, and sighed. “Macaw’s great,” he whispered to himself.
“It sure is.”
Gladstone blinked his eyes open and squinted against the sun. A stranger stood at the line of the light. He shifted to look at him better, and saw a toad standing over him, yellow eyes warm and smile disarming but, oddly, leaving a sense of wariness in Gladstone. He wondered if he should say something, but the toad beat him to it.
“It’s an old city with a rich history, and people flock here for it,” the toad said. “Or perhaps for a taste of fortune. We may never be sure.” He stepped to the bench and inclined at it. “May I?”
“Oh, sure,” Gladstone said, scooting over so the toad can sit.
“Thank you,” the toad said. He practically plopped down next to Gladstone and beamed at him. “I’m terribly sorry if I’m bothering you. I couldn’t help but reply when I heard you like Macaw.”
“It’s no problem,” Gladstone assured. “You really love Macaw, huh?”
“What’s not to love? The history, the people, the tourists, the booming economy. All those people chasing the sweet, sweet victory in the casinos,” the toad paused, “never a boring day, I’d say. It helps that I own one of the casinos here.”
Gladstone let out a politely interested noise.
“Toad Liu Hai, proprietor of the one and only House of the Lucky Fortune, at your service,” the toad introduced himself with flourish. He offered a hand to Gladstone.
Gladstone shook it, mostly out of habit. “Nice to meet you, Liu Hai. Gladstone Gander.”
Liu Hai’s eyes widened for a split second as they shook hands, then his eyelids fluttered. There was a slight tug in Gladstone’s stomach, like a sudden, slight panic when he lost his footing just before regaining his balance. It went as soon as it came, and Gladstone brushed it away from his mind.
“Gladstone Gander,” Liu Hai repeated. He let go of Gladstone’s hand, but his fingers lingered a touch too long. “I’ve heard about you. You’re becoming a sort of household name around here.”
“Well, I guess that happens when you stay somewhere long enough,” Gladstone shrugged, smirking slightly. “And I am pretty good with the slots.”
“I’d say,” Liu Hai agreed.
“You said you’re the owner of one of the casinos around here?” Gladstone asked.
“Ah, yes. House of the Lucky Fortune. My pride and joy as well as my home,” Liu Hai said, eyes sparkling. “Say, I don’t believe you’ve visited my House.”
“Well, there are a lot of casinos around,” Gladstone said with a shrug. “I just go to whichever I feel like going to. Where’s yours?”
“It’s in the southeastern part of the island, overlooking the sea,” Liu Hai said. “My House is also a hotel, and many guests like the view. Perhaps you’d like to stay for a day or two?”
“Well, maybe later,” Gladstone said. “I still have one more night’s stay in my current hotel. I haven’t decided if I want to stay or go back home.” Though he was leaning heavily on staying. It was nothing really, but he was well aware that Uncle Scrooge disliked his luck, and while Donald kept things civil he was also aware that he was, at the very least, a touch envious. Plus, Fethry was in the lab and was hard to contact. Couple that with the fact that Donald could get overbearing, more so since Della’s… disappearance, Gladstone had always felt more at ease when their conversations were limited through his phone screen.
“Well, I’ve arranged for a free stay ticket in a raffle that will be held this evening in the space center to commemorate their anniversary. Perhaps you might win it if you enter, since you seem to win a lot of main prizes in raffles.”
“Perhaps.” Gladstone smiled and shifted in his seat.
“I, for one, am very curious to see your famed good luck in action,” Liu Hai mused.
“It’s really not that great,” Gladstone demurred. Something about Liu Hai’s demeanor was getting a bit too much for him. Too much what, exactly, he couldn’t name. His luck chose that moment to rebel, though, and a Hong Kong dollar bill landed straight in his lap. He held it up and looked around to see if anyone dropped it, but as usual there was no sign of anyone having lost money. He smiled at Liu Hai. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“I’ll bet there are many happy coincidences around you,” Liu Hai said, amused. “Will you come visit my House, at least?”
“Maybe sometime,” Gladstone said, and it seemed to appease Liu Hai enough. They parted ways soon, and Gladstone was left alone in the park once again.
He entered the raffle later that evening, for a lack of anything better to do. Out of curiosity, he checked the prize lists. Like Liu Hai said the free stay ticket in House of the Lucky Fortune was listed as the main prize, with other tickets – like free spa, free entrance to museums, and meal discounts being listed as the other prizes. There were also the few free souvenir bags and t-shirts.
Contrary to popular belief, Gladstone didn’t always win the main prize in raffles and lotteries, although it was pretty much a given that he would win something. He won half-off discounts for meals and buy-one-get-one-free vouchers for drinks just as often. In his off days, which didn’t happen often, he might win a box of tissue or a single egg tart or pork bun. He wondered what he would win for this one.
He won main prize. He won the free stay.
Gladstone accepted the ticket with a smile on his face, but wondered if he should just give it away to other people instead. His eyes caught the sight of a couple looking dejected, and he made up his mind on the spot, turning to give away the ticket to the couple.
Someone cut off his path and held his hands tight. He jolted in surprise and saw that Liu Hai had found him and held him like a vice. His eyes glinted in the light of the dusk, the hung lanterns and the dying sunlight making his yellow eyes seem to darken and brighten at once.
“Mr. Gander!” Liu Hai greeted as his grip tightened even more. “A pleasure, to meet you again here. And to think you won the ticket! Cai Shen must be smiling at you constantly.”
“Oh, uh. Thanks,” Gladstone said with a smile. He wiggled his fingers to free his hands from Liu Hai’s grip, but no such luck. He glanced at the couple. “Though, actually, I really should go and – “
“Oh, why the hurry? Come, come, let us drink and celebrate.” Liu Hai pulled him into a one armed hug, big arms curling around Gladstone’s shoulders and trapping him in as he led the duck into the throng of people. “I would love to have you in my House, Mr. Gander. I’ll make sure you will get the best services our establishment can provide.” He patted Gladstone’s chest twice. There was a lurch in Gladstone’s stomach, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
Liu Hai seemed to glow brighter though – more figuratively than literally, of course. Something in him seemed to have strengthened as his grip grew more relaxed, but his stance as he kept Gladstone close felt in general firmer than before.
“Now, where can we sit and chat?” Liu Hai mused. “Ah, I know. Come this way.” Still gripping Gladstone, he led them through the crowd and into a bar. “It won’t be as good as the cocktails our bartender serves at the House, but it’s good, still. What do you like, Mr. Gander?”
“Uh,” Gladstone said, eloquently, eyes darting around as he squirmed uncomfortably in a futile attempt to get away. Liu Hai plopped him down on a barstool and flagged a bartender. The night was young and the bar wasn’t crowded yet, and the bartender came to them immediately.
“Let’s go with the martini, shall we? It’s a classic choice,” Liu Hai barged on, nodding at the bartender.
“I’ll – “ Gladstone waved at the bartender, almost frantic, unwilling to get drunk off liquor with someone practically a stranger. He might be lucky, but even luck had its limitations. “I’ll have the mojito, thank you.”
The crane bartender nodded. “One martini and one mojito. Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you,” Gladstone blurted when he saw Liu Hai opening his mouth. He didn’t want to take any chances with the toad trying to feed him alcohol.
It didn’t take long for the bartender to serve their drinks, and soon Gladstone found himself chewing a mint leaf, savoring the bright coolness in his tongue.
“So, will you stay in the House tomorrow? I seem to recall you say you have one more night’s stay in your current hotel,” Liu Hai said.
“I’m still not sure about that, actually,” Gladstone said, and didn’t elaborate further.
“Oh, that’s alright. I only want to make sure, so I can have my staff prepare a room for you,” Liu Hai replied easily. “There is a room that’s about to be vacant with the view of the sea. It will be perfect for your stay.”
“You don’t have to hold on a room for me,” Gladstone said.
“I assure you, I want to.” Liu Hai leaned in to Gladstone’s space. “I want to make sure your stay will be the best one yet.”
Gladstone blinked at let out a quick laugh. “Do you do this to all your customers? I don’t think I’ve met any hotel owner who’s as involved as this.”
“I try to give the best service and meet up with my guests to find out what they need and want, if possible,” Liu Hai answered. He was still leaning in. “It’s a lucky coincidence that I get to prepare for yours before you step foot into the House. I have more time to prepare.”
“That’s some dedication,” Gladstone commented. He sipped on his drink, thinking, desperate to steer the conversation away from his possible stay. “Was there any time you feel like it’s not worth it, though?”
The question sparked a story from Liu Hai about a few customers who didn’t respect the House of Lucky Fortune’s rules and had no manners whatsoever, which prompted a few tidbits from Gladstone’s end about the stories Donald had shared with him that he had dubbed the customer service nightmare. As they swapped stories and spoke into the night, their drinks multiplying as they did, Gladstone grew more relaxed. Maybe it was just him, feeling a touch uncomfortable with Liu Hai. Some people were simply a bit too much, but that didn’t mean they had bad intentions. Maybe Liu Hai was just overenthusiastic with his approach.
At one point, Gladstone chanced a look at his phone and paused. “Well, look at that. It’s midnight.”
“Time flies when you spend time with a friend,” Liu Hai said as he sipped his drink.
Gladstone shrugged. “Sure. I should really go back to the hotel, though.”
“Such a shame the night has to end so soon,” Liu Hai sighed. “See you soon, Mr. Gander. Are you taking a taxi back?”
“Probably, yeah.”
“Let me walk you to the road, at least. You never know when there are criminals about, and there have been words about pickpockets roaming the streets.”
“Sure,” Gladstone agreed. It seemed innocent enough of a request, borne out of concern. Gladstone wasn’t worried about pickpockets, but he’d seen how Donald fussed, and he knew that sometimes the best way to handle things was to appease.
True to his words, Liu Hai accompanied him to the roadside, flagging a cab for him. The ever-busy streets in Macaw had an abundance of cabs to spare, and one soon stopped for them. Gladstone reached out to open the door, but Liu Hai beat him to it, opening the door and stepping back, the offering a hand to help him in.
Gladstone let out a small laugh. “I’m not a damsel you need to help every step of the way.”
“Why, I’m only exercising good manners,” Liu Hai said.
“I can’t argue with that.” Just for the funsies, Gladstone took the hand Liu Hai was offering him.
The world turned and tilted, the sensation of spinning and falling tugging at Gladstone until he lost his footing. The sudden vertigo pulled him down, but steadying hands found him and set him upright. Gladstone blinked, willing the world to settle again, and slowly it did.
“Be careful there, Mr. Gander,” Liu Hai said, so close that Gladstone nearly jumped.
Gladstone straightened up and slipped away from Liu Hai’s hold. “Whoops, might have had one drink too many, sorry,” he said lightly, brushing away Liu Hai’s fingers that seemed to chase him. “Thanks for the help, but I’m fine now.”
Liu Hai’s eyes seemed to glimmer in the streetlights. “If you say so, Mr. Gander. Good travels, now.”
It didn’t take long for Gladstone to arrive in his hotel, and he made a beeline to the showers in his room, scrubbing away the lingering smell of tobacco and vehicle smoke that hung about in the streets. When he was done showering and brushing his teeth, he plopped down in his bed and flipped open his phone.
[1:04 AM] Me:
hey, so
i won a free stay at a hotel
[1: 05 AM] Donaldo:
…gladstone??
isn’t this like way late in macaw
[1:05 AM] Me:
yea i went out and just got back
anw
i met the hotel owner and he’s nice iguess
but idk
kinda not really feeling like staying at his hotel here
[1:06 AM] Donaldo:
then dont?
[1:06 AM] Me:
i won a free stay tcicket tho
and i haven’t booked another hotel
[1:07 AM] Donaldo:
then stay there
[1:07 AM] Me:
idk the owner kinda gives a. vibe.
he’s nice enough tho but idk??
[1:08 AM] Donaldo:
you’re really making this a lot harder than it is, glads.
[1:09 AM] Me:
and you’re not helping, cuz.
i kinda need some advice here
[1:10 AM] Donaldo:
look, it’s not that i don’t want to help
but the decision is in your hands
if you think it’s okay, then stay there
you’re definitely lucky enough to avoid getting robbed blind in your hotel room
[1:12 AM] Me:
well i can’t argue with that…
[1:12 AM] Donaldo:
now go to sleep you heathen it’s well past your bedtime
[1:13 AM] Me:
psssh what are you, my mom??
[1:13 AM] Donaldo:
i WILL set grandma on you
[1:14 AM] Me:
lmao ok fine
night, donaldo
[1:15 AM] Donaldo:
night
sleep tight
With a practiced ease, Gladstone locked the phone screen and threw it carelessly to the bedside table. As usual, it landed right at the middle of it.
He hadn’t informed the hotel if he wanted to extend his stay. The free stay ticket was waiting to be used. There was no expiry date, and Gladstone had a feeling Liu Hai wouldn’t mind if he ended up staying, say, next week as long as he gave him a confirmation on it.
He could just pack his things – that mostly consisted of the clothes on his back, a few changes, and some underwear and that was about it so it really wouldn’t be much work to begin with – and change hotels tomorrow, using the free stay ticket, and then skip off to the next hotel, though. That would be easier; deal with Liu Hai now and he wouldn’t need to deal with him again later. He seemed like a nice enough person, and Gladstone enjoyed their conversations enough, but he was the sort of person who was kind but draining.
Last time he checked, the ticket would let him stay for three days in House of the Lucky Fortune. It seemed reasonable enough time to stay there and then skip off.
Mind made up, Gladstone turned off the lights and slept.
House of the Lucky Fortune was a memorable establishment. It was smaller than the other casinos in the city, but it felt grand in an altogether different way, and it left an impression with the design it chose; the traditionally Chinese design stood out against the bustling modern cityscape behind it.
The sun felt like it was baking the top of Gladstone’s head when he walked to the entrance. The shade the building provided was relief, but the cool, conditioned air inside made him sigh.
“Mr. Gander! Welcome, welcome!”
Gladstone blinked and turned to see Liu Hai, walking to him with a big smile on his face. “Hello,” he greeted. “Do you have a vacancy?”
“For you? Always,” Liu Hai said. “May I have your free stay ticket, so I can process it?”
Gladstone took said ticket from his pocket. “Here you go.”
“Perfect,” Liu Hai said, and he led them to the reception desk. Gladstone turned his head to look at the impressive décor and the flashing lights in the casino, barely paying attention to what Liu Hai was doing.
“You sure don’t pull any punches with the decorations,” he commented.
“Well, this House is very old and I want to keep it authentic,” Liu Hai said. “It’s lasted for generations, and it will last for more generations to come. Well, Mr. Gander, this is your room’s key.” Liu Hai handed Gladstone a keycard and straightened up. “Well, then. Shall we get you settled?”
“Sure. Which way to the rooms?” Gladstone asked, pocketing the keycard.
“No, no, let me lead you there,” Liu Hai said, walking ahead and gesturing to Gladstone to follow. “As I said, this is an old establishment. We’ve had guests getting lost in the halls. I would rather it not happen to you, Mr. Gander.”
“Fair enough,” Gladstone muttered and moved to follow.
Liu Hai led him to the topmost floor and gestured, and Gladstone blinked as he realized it was a suite, with kitchenette and dining area across the sleeping area which was fenced off by a Chinese style folding screen adorned by the printed, distinct art of a blossoming tree. The glass walls lining the room lent a view to the peninsula. Gladstone let out a low whistle as he walked inside and spun to study the room. “Impressive,” he said. “And that’s an impressive view over the ocean, too.”
“Only the best for our honored guest,” Liu Hai said.
“I’m surprised you’re giving this room as the free to stay room, though. I’m sure this sort of room cost a lot,” Gladstone commented. Not that he knew for sure about the price range of different hotel rooms, but this definitely counted as one of the nicest rooms he’d stayed in.
“Well, there’s a reason the free stay ticket was the main prize,” Liu Hai answered with a laugh. “Only the luckiest may have this room.”
“I sure do feel lucky,” Gladstone muttered. He moved to the glass wall, looking out to the sea. His thoughts drifted to Donald, having fallen in love with the sea when they were little, and to Fethry, apparently currently working in an underwater lab.
“It’s a beautiful view, yes?” Liu Hai asked, walking closer to stand next to Gladstone. “I am glad the House was built here. The view is one of our best selling point, aside from the casino.”
“You said it’s lasted generations?” Gladstone asked.
“Yes,” Liu Hai confirmed. “It has always been a gambling den of sorts. We managed to make a reputable business out of it, but it hadn’t always been that way.” He smiled mischievously. “Apparently, there was a time when this coast was a part of the red light district, a very, very long time ago.”
“That’s an interesting tidbit of information,” Gladstone said, lifting a brow.
“There are a lot of interesting tidbit of information about the House. With an establishment this old, it’s only natural for it to collect stories within its walls.” Liu Hai’s fingers brushed against Gladstone’s as he turned to the elevator, and there was a slight tug in Gladstone’s stomach, like a sudden lurch that disappeared as soon as it came. “Would you like to rest up for a while, Mr. Gander? I can send for someone to bring some refreshments. Our in-house pork buns are absolutely splendid.”
Gladstone paused. “You know what, I think I want to visit the casino,” he declared. “I can do with some games.”
“Very well, then,” Liu Hai said, gesturing to the elevator.
The casino was as impressive as the view, with numerous slot machines and gaming tables, even the age-old guess-how-many-fingers game. As usual, Gladstone breezed through the games, winning each one and coming away with tokens and cash.
“My, Mr. Gander. You truly are as lucky as they say,” Liu Hai commented after Gladstone’s seventh win in a row as they moved to the slots.
“I have been told that I am the luckiest duck in the world,” Gladstone said absent-mindedly. “I’m sure I’m not the only one. My mother was also a lucky duck.”
“Oh? Does it run in the family, then?”
Gladstone laughed, pulling the lever of a slot machine. “I don’t know about that. Though, my cousins and uncle has survived some pretty wild things.” Not Della, at the end. Gladstone wondered, sometimes, if Della could have survived her trip to space and get back home safely if she had his luck. In the end, he decided not to dwell on it. He had, before, and spiraled as guilt ate him whole. It took Donald yelling at him for three hours nonstop to pull him out of his funk. And then, after Gladstone moped about feeling bad because it took a person grieving over his twin to snap him out of his mindset, Donald yelled for another two hours about how stupid Gladstone was being.
“How interesting. You’ll have to tell me more about them,” Liu Hai said, lacing his fingers together.
“Oh, sure,” Gladstone said, but stopped when the slot machine dinged cheerfully and sprayed him with an armful of winning tokens. Liu Hai blinked, laughed, and fetched a trolley for him to bring the tokens in.
Gladstone spent the first day of his three-day stay going around in the game room, playing around with the slots, and winning every game he chose to play. Liu Hai directed him to the buffet area when time came for dinner, and Gladstone got to find out for himself how good the pork buns were. Liu Hai weren’t kidding when he said the buns were splendid. There were also egg tarts, which Gladstone was appreciative of. He popped three tarts into his mouth in succession.
“What do you think of the establishment?” Liu Hai asked in between bites of food.
“Not bad, not bad at all,” Gladstone answered, licking crumbs off his fingers. “Have you ever thought of expanding? With views like what you have here and the décor and all I think you can do well with some expansion.”
“We’ve planned on it, yes,” Liu Hai admitted. “We just haven’t gotten around to it. Be at ease, however, you haven’t seen all of the establishment just yet. You might say… it feels bigger in the inside than it is on the outside.”
Gladstone lifted a brow, but said nothing about it.
Gladstone spent more time with the games until he felt fatigue creeping in. Liu Hai directed him back to his room again at that point, taking his hand and guiding him to the elevator. Any other day, Gladstone would pull back and insist he could find his own way, but there was a spinning sensation that pressed at his head that made him worry that he would lose his balance and fall. By the time they reached the topmost floor, darkness was leeching into Gladstone’s vision, but he managed to thank Liu Hai and made his way to the bed.
He fell asleep on top of soft sheets and the twinkle of stars in the distance and wondered if the crystals studding the blossoms of the folding screen were there when he first came into the room.
Gladstone woke up feeling slightly off.
He knew he was okay, for the most part. There was a lingering fatigue that sleep hadn’t yet cured, and he slept weird and there was a crick in his neck, but he was refreshed enough and aware of his surroundings. But there was something about his room that he couldn’t put his fingers on. It felt a bit bigger, somehow, the ceiling taller and the glass wall longer. It really shouldn’t be, though. As off as he was last night, he knew he was in the right place, and he didn’t spend much time in the room to begin with. It was probably just his imagination.
After freshening up, he went down to look for the restaurant so he could have a breakfast. He knew Liu Hai warned him of guests getting lost, but he figured he was lucky enough to avoid that. Soon, he found the restaurant and got himself a serving of noodles and tea. The food was as delicious as the dinner he got at the buffet area the night before, and Gladstone looked around as he ate.
He didn’t visit the restaurant yesterday, but he was starting to wonder how true Liu Hai’s words about the hotel feeling like it was bigger than it looked was. The dining area was certainly larger than he would have expected it to be, considering the size of the building.
He wandered off to the casino area again after his meal and found Liu Hai there. The toad seemed to look even brighter than yesterday – younger even, in a way that Gladstone knew wasn’t possible, so it was most likely just a trick of the light or makeup or something – and he lit up even more when he saw Gladstone near.
“Mr. Gander, good morning!” he greeted, then paused. “Well, it’s almost noon, but mornings only started when you wake, yes? How was your sleep?”
Gladstone shrugged. “I slept fine.” He glanced at the game tables. “The casino looks a bit emptier today.”
“It’s always slow around this time,” Liu Hai explained. “A lot of the workers take the time to rest.”
“Huh.” Gladstone looked around for a moment. “I guess that explains why the casino looks bigger than yesterday.”
Liu Hai laughed long and hard, as if Gladstone had just said a great joke. He didn’t seem too concerned about explaining it to Gladstone. When the laughter subsided, he gestured to Gladstone to follow him. “Come, let me show you to the spa. I suspect you will enjoy our spa treatments.”
“I will never say no to spa treatments,” Gladstone agreed, moving to follow.
He spent the afternoon in the spa before going back to the restaurants to eat, and then he spent more time playing around with slots and games. Liu Hai directed him to the outdoor pool at some point, and Gladstone sighed, watching the sun set in the horizon as he floated on a giant plastic inflatable yellow duck. Liu Hai never left his side, and there were the occasional brush of fingers every now and then, which he brushed off because Liu Hai stood close to him and the occasional brush was only to be expected. There were sudden lurches in his stomach that he couldn’t explain, but they always disappeared before he could really think about them any more than in passing. The fatigue that he woke up with only seemed to worsen throughout the day.
That… didn’t seem normal. But it was probably fine. Gladstone would find a lodge or something, just something cheap, and sleep for, like, three days straight. This happened sometimes, it was probably nothing serious.
Liu Hai brought him back to the game tables and watched him win, again and again and again, and brought champagne and wine to celebrate. He didn’t seem to at all mind that Gladstone kept winning against the house. If anything, he seemed to glow brighter.
Gladstone went to sleep with his mind fuzzy from the alcohol, the world tilting this way and that as Liu Hai, like before, guided him by the hand to his room.
Gladstone fell asleep on top of soft sheets and the twinkle of stars in the distance and the curious glint of something gold lining the tables in the suite. The crystals studding the folding screen glinted under the distant moonlight and Gladstone wondered how he mistook the brush strokes of the hand-painted folding screen to be printed.
Gladstone woke up feeling worse off than before.
The world was still slightly tilting. There was a ringing in his ears that didn’t abate, and that crick in his neck hadn’t disappeared yet. It wasn’t enough for Gladstone to announce it as the worst day of his life, but it was a close thing. And was that a crystal table lamp? If he remembered correctly, the body was made from ceramic, not clear crystal. And the rim of the dressing table was gold. Had he been that unobservant before?
And the room felt bigger, still. It was odd. He sighed, freshened up, and went to the restaurant to have breakfast, but he had to pause at the door.
Things… really seemed to be bigger than yesterday. The ceiling was definitely taller, and Gladstone knew the lights in the restaurant were impressive but it didn’t have that small crystal chandelier yesterday. Had Liu Hai been redecorating? How quick can someone change a hanging lamp into a crystal chandelier?
Gladstone took a breakfast of congee and fruit juice, making it a game to look around trying to find things that were different from what he remembered of yesterday’s restaurant. There definitely wasn’t a giant chocolate fountain in the dessert area yesterday, at least not that big. And the swan ice sculpture was also new, but that could be something Liu Hai arranged to come in today. Still, the place really did look bigger, and he knew for a fact that the swirling patterns on the walls weren’t that elaborate before.
He chewed on the fried wonton skin that accompanied the congee, feeling the crunch with each bite. Something told him that he really should get out of here quickly. He might not have joined Uncle Scrooge’s adventures as often as the twins, but he knew enough to know that when weird things started happening, he really should start running.
With that in mind, he went back to his room and packed what little things he bothered bringing with him and checked the time. It was about ten o’clock already. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to check out now.
When he reached the ground floor, he couldn’t find the way out – or even the reception desk, for that matter. Instead he lost his way in between desks of games and slot machines, suddenly finding himself unable to even discern if he could find the lobby. He really hadn’t imagined things. House of the Lucky Fortune was growing bigger with each day he spent inside, and he wanted to get out.
“Mr. Gander! Good morning.” He could hear Liu Hai walking closer. “How was your rest?”
Gladstone gritted his teeth, plastered a smile, and turned to greet Liu Hai back. “Hi! I slept well enough, thanks.” He studied the toad as he spoke, and noticed with dismay how Liu Hai had seemed to grow younger by the night. He steeled himself and soldiered on, picking his words carefully. “It’s almost sad that I have to say goodbye to the bed, though. The House has been nice.”
Liu Hai tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s the third day,” Gladstone answered. “The free stay ticket is only valid for three days, and I guess it’s time to check out. There are still some stuff I want to see in the other part of the city.”
“Is there any way I can change your mind, Mr. Gander? You have been quite a delight to be around,” Liu Hai said, eyes downcast.
“Sorry, but no,” Gladstone said with an apologetic smile. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve been enjoying my stay here a lot.” He looked around. “Anyway, I seem to have gotten lost. Which way to the reception table? I’d like to check out.”
“Are you really sure you don’t want to extend your stay? I’d even throw in another free day,” Liu Hai bargained.
And that was the reason Gladstone immediately felt the need to get away. He was usually lucky enough to avoid stalkers, but he was no stranger to people who wanted him around for his luck, and Della and Donald both had gotten their fair share of creepy people who wouldn’t take no for an answer – Della more than Donald, simply by virtue of being more easily understood by others. He kept his smile and shook his head firmly. “I’m not extending my stay. Thanks for the offer, though.”
Liu Hai stared at him. He squared his shoulders and seemed to grow taller in a beat, and his eyes hardened. When he spoke again, his voice was cold instead of warm and friendly. “You don’t seem to understand me, Mr. Gander. You’re not leaving my House any time soon.”
“Hey, I have the right to leave any time I want,” Gladstone protested.
“Oh, with no access to the door outside? Be my guest,” Liu Hai said, almost nonchalant, if not for the hungry glint in his eyes. He grew taller in the blink of an eye, growing up, up, up until he went well past tall and into gigantic. His clothes changed in a flurry of cloth and light – instead of the pants and shirt with the bow tie, he now wore a traditional Chinese robes, complete with the headdress. The red in the game room turned into a glossy black reminiscent of obsidian and the people bustling around turned into cards that flew to Liu Hai’s hands.
Gladstone took a step back, staring at Liu Hai in shock. The smile he kept on had dropped. “What – “ He gulped and took a deep breath, not liking the way his voice broke. “What are you?”
“My, what a question to ask,” Liu Hai said. When he smiled, rows of sharp teeth glinted. “I am Liu Hai, an ancient spirit of chance and fortune. And I,” his eyes glinted, “sustain myself by taking others’ luck. A luck vampire, if you will.”
Gladstone grew cold immediately. “…luck,” he echoed.
“A casino truly has been perfect to let me eat enough to survive. So many people relying on luck to win… they have been filling, and satisfying. But you, Mr. Gander…” Liu Hai’s eyelids fluttered as a smile stretched over his face. “Your luck has been particularly… delectable. Even more filling, and it has helped me grow even stronger than before. I never thought I would get enough luck to remodel the whole hotel, and yet here you are, providing enough to build a new House if I so choose.”
Realization dawned on Gladstone. The weird tugs at his stomach, the spinning sensation, the fatigue. He took another step back.
“Now, don’t be like that,” Liu Hai admonished, shapeshifting into what seemed to be jade green cloth and lines of light that shot down and turning back into his original size and leaned into Gladstone’s space, chasing when Gladstone took another step back. “Luck is an infinite source. You won’t die from getting it sucked out of you, and it won’t run out. Sure, you might get a little tired, but it’s not so bad.”
“Did one of your meals tell you that?” Gladstone asked. The sudden spike of bravery surprised even him, but to his dismay it only seemed to amuse Liu Hai.
“Oh, no, it’s only my observation,” the toad answered. “No matter how much I take, their luck persisted, still.” Images glimmered in the reflective darkness, blinking in and out of sight – a comb adorned with carvings of an orchid, an ornate dagger with Chinese characters running along the blade, a flower, a mirror, a perfume bottle, a switchblade, blue rimmed china plates, other objects blinking in and out of focus that Gladstone couldn’t discern. “Of course, they all succumbed to old age eventually.” The images vanished.
“Old age,” Gladstone echoed skeptically. He shook his head. “Okay, that’s enough. Let me out of here.”
“I don’t think so, Mr. Gander. It’s been so, so long since I’ve tasted such delectable luck, and yours will sustain me for years to come.” Liu Hai struck out, quick as a snake. His hands found home around Gladstone’s head, thumbs pressing against his temples, and Gladstone squawked in surprise.
Liu Hai took a deep breath, and Gladstone could feel something draining. The lurch in his gut turned into nausea and the spinning sensation that had been haunting him in increments hit him full-force, the vertigo sending the world upside down and back again. His knees buckled as he cried out, and he would have fallen if Liu Hai’s hold wasn’t so strong.
Liu Hai hummed as if he was tasting wine. “Spring water, clover honey, and… white clover tea, with hints of mint? My, your luck really is exquisite, Mr. Gander.”
Gladstone grunted, clawing at Liu Hai’s hands with fading strength. If Liu Hai felt it, he didn’t show any sign of discomfort. His vision swam dizzyingly, adding to the vertigo that refused to abate, and he felt like fainting. He gasped desperately to bring air into his lungs and bit his tongue until he tasted blood. He refused to faint here. Not now, not ever, and especially not when Liu Hai had him in his palms, in his mercy.
Liu Hai clicked his tongue. “Now, don’t be like that,” he chided, letting go of Gladstone’s head and catching him by the arms before Gladstone could smack face-first to the floor. He patted Gladstone’s cheek lightly, and he was out of it enough that it surprised him into releasing his tongue.
“Let me go,” Gladstone said – would have said, if his voice hadn’t vanished along with his strength. He coughed, barely noticing the copper blooming in his mouth and spraying to the air amidst the darkness that started to encroach in his vision. It was a miracle he didn’t throw up, with how it felt like his stomach had been shaken violently.
“I would want you to be well,” Liu Hai said, ignoring Gladstone’s plea. “People with luck like yours don’t come every dynasty. I want to savor the taste as long as I could.” He put Gladstone gently on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the way Gladstone’s head lolled tiredly to the side. His clothes changed into his previous getup, shirt with bow tie and pants, in a flurry of cloth and light, as the obsidian darkness faded into the bright red walls of the casino.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Gander. Here in the House we treat our guests well.” Liu Hai’s voice was faint through the cotton stuffing Gladstone’s ears. “We will have housekeeping make sure your room is in excellent shape. After all, only the luckiest may have your room, and we only provide the best for our lucky guests.”
Gladstone gasped for air. “Let me go,” he said again. “Please.”
His pleas fell to deaf ears. “Come now, Mr. Gander,” Liu Hai said instead of acknowledging his words. “Let’s bring you to your room so you can rest. I’ve heard that having your luck taken is a tiring ordeal.”
If Liu Hai said anything more, Gladstone didn’t know it. All he knew was that the world swam and tasted of metal, and there were hands holding him up and carrying him away. When unconsciousness finally claimed him, it was as much a relief as it was a curse.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
If he did, he wasn’t aware enough to be called awake. He didn’t know long he was unconscious, after Liu Hai took his luck and sent him to tired slumber. But when he surfaced from the sleep he took refuge in, it was to sensation of extreme fatigue that only made him want to curl deeper into his bed, the world tilting and spinning, and a feeling in his stomach that reminded him of falling endlessly. Everything that touched him felt like they were rubbing him the wrong way, even the silk pajamas Liu Hai had given him and the cashmere blanket that kept him warm against the conditioned air. But he was alone in his room, and that was a relief.
He straddled the line between wakefulness and slumber, struggling to keep his eyes open to survey the swaying room. He didn’t succeed.
He closed his eyes with the realization that he had lost the battle with unconsciousness, a part of his mind that was aware of his surrounding making note of the crystal chandelier hanging over the jacuzzi that had grown bigger.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
How long had he been asleep? He still felt tired, as if he hadn’t rested in years. He felt like he hadn’t cleaned himself in a long time, and he knew he would soon need to preen his feathers. He couldn’t bring himself to care.
Something pressed against his beak. A spoon, his mind supplied, as the utensil found its way into his mouth and poured savory liquid into his throat. He swallowed automatically, a part of him identifying the liquid as broth, and let himself be fed and cleaned up.
Slumber dragged him in again, even though he wanted to wake up and flee the casino. Even with his abundant luck, he couldn’t manage it.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
That didn’t mean he didn’t feel fingers running along his arm and finding his wrist, and another set of fingers brushing against his forehead. The featherlight touch on his face lifted for a moment, and a palm rested against his eyes as if trying to keep him from waking up.
It didn’t need to. Even if Gladstone wanted to wake up, he didn’t have the energy to do so.
And then there was that sensation again, of something being drained. The world spun, and it was worse from beneath closed lids than it was from open eyes, and nausea climbed up Gladstone’s throat. With some miracle, he didn’t throw up.
He gasped and twitched, but the hands kept him down. “It’s alright,” Liu Hai’s voice soothed. It only shot fear up Gladstone’s spine. “Don’t worry, Mr. Gander. You’re in safe hands.”
He really wasn’t.
When the tendrils of unconsciousness wrapped him and pulled him under again, Gladstone welcomed it gladly.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
Tiredness was a constant. The darkness beneath his eyelids was a constant.
The wish to escape was a constant, but he was starting to get too tired to care.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
He almost wished he never had to. Why would it matter? He’d be too tired to do anything if he were awake anyway.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
He was fed more broth. He didn’t want to drink, but he couldn’t stop his reflexes.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
The hands were there again. Something drained. The world spun out of control.
He hadn’t been in control for so long. It wouldn’t have made a difference.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
Fatigue was an old friend and it invited Gladstone into more slumber.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
Gladstone didn’t wake up.
Gladstone woke up.
It surprised him when he opened his eyes that he laid still on the bed, blinking, waiting for his mind to catch up with the fact that he was awake. The fatigue that dragged at his limbs was still there, but it wasn’t so bad he wished he was still unconscious. With a groan and slow, agonized moves, he pushed himself to sit.
He froze in his tracks.
A part of him wondered if Liu Hai had moved him to another room, but the long glass wall was still there, as was the crystal chandelier he took note of some time ago and the jacuzzi. But it didn’t look like the same room. The floor was marble, polished and sleek. The ceiling was taller. The folding screen wasn’t there anymore, but there was a painting on the wall that wasn’t there before that resembled the art adorning the folding screen. The room overall had grown much, much bigger, much, much more polished, with an undertone of a mixture of jade green and teal that wasn’t there before. The view had, inexplicably, changed from the ocean to the urban landscape of Macaw, all sprawling roads and tall buildings that looked like they were trying to stab the sky.
He blinked and took a deep breath, trying to stave off the tears that suddenly tried to push against his eyes. How long had he been unconscious? It must have been a long time, if things had changed this much. Was he moved from his previous room?
With a start, he remembered his phone. Where was it? He didn’t remember the date when he checked into the hotel, but he could at least make an estimate over how long he’d been here if he could see the date. Surely it hadn’t been that long. Liu Hai couldn’t keep him in the casino for that long, could he?
He pushed the blanket away and stood, wobbling when his knees buckled and managing to catch himself from falling over. He looked around, found his bag, and wobbled to it, limbs weak from a long period of sleep. When he found the phone, the battery was dead.
He plugged the phone to the charger and started up the phone as soon as it gave an indication that it was charging. The start up took a long while, far too long, but the phone was on again at last. It loaded up the apps and it started dinging over and over as notifications flooded in.
Gladstone opened the messaging app, opening the newest message. It was from Donald. Of course. He checked the date and paused.
He glanced at the date at the top of the notification bar, then scrolled to the last message from Donald that he’d read.
That was… a long time.
How did Liu Hai manage to keep him for over a full month?
He sat on the bed again, taking a deep breath. With growing dread, he scrolled to read all the texts Donald had sent him. He asked what Gladstone was doing, at first, like he always did if Gladstone failed to make it known that he was still alive through little good morning or hey, cuz messages. It grew desperate as he failed to respond, and at some point Donald pretty much screamed in rage via text and telling him to respond. When no answer came, Donald was quick to change his tune, turning to pleading and begging Gladstone to please tell him he was still alive.
Guilt churned in Gladstone’s gut. Donald had been a mess when Della disappeared. It was cruel of him to vanish without a trace, without even leaving words behind. At least Della did. At least Donald knew Della’s fate. Donald had no idea what happened to Gladstone.
His heart broke as he kept scrolling. At some point Donald stopped pleading, and instead acted as if nothing had happened in an attempt to pretend that everything was fine, giving updates to his life. He and the triplets lived with Uncle Scrooge, now, after the triplets somehow managed to jumpstart Donald’s boat and was caught before they could get away. Apparently they had an adventure and Donald’s boat exploded? Gladstone wasn’t totally clear on that.
The elevator dinged, and Gladstone jumped. Liu Hai walked in, bringing a tray of bowls and a bottle of water with him, and brightened when he saw Gladstone.
“Mr. Gander! I’m glad to see you awake. Are you feeling well?” he asked, walking closer as Gladstone scooted back, only to hit the headboard. “I was getting worried. I’m sorry if I had gotten overboard. It’s been a long time since I’ve had luck as good as yours.”
“If you’re so worried, maybe you can let me leave,” Gladstone said.
Liu Hai’s smile practically screamed nice try. “Perhaps some time,” he said mildly, and he might as well had said never. He glanced to the phone in Gladstone’s hand. “I see you’re using your phone again.”
“Ah. Yeah.” He fell silent for a moment. “When you said overboard, earlier… how overboard?”
“Oh, I assure you, it’s nothing bad,” Liu Hai answered mildly. “Others would have fared worse, I believe. You only slept for three days straight after the first time I truly drained you! Others would have slept longer. After that, I was always careful not to tire you out too much, but perhaps I made a miscalculation. I stopped taking your luck five days ago to allow you to wake. After all, it wouldn’t do if you can’t even go down to the casino.”
Gladstone took in a slow breath. “The casino. Right.” He paused. “Did you move me to another room?”
“Oh, no, no. The room changed, Mr. Gander. I suppose it would get a bit boring looking at the sea all the time, so I decided to turn the room and face it to the city instead.”
His phone dinged. Donald had sent another text.
[7:02 AM] Donaldo:
i see you’re finally online. how was your day?
Gladstone’s breath hitched in his throat. When he didn’t respond immediately, the phone dinged again.
[7:03 AM] Donaldo:
can you text me when you’re free?
He was being so careful with his words. It was as if he was scared. The guilt churned again, stronger than before.
“May I ask who that is, Mr. Gander?” Liu Hai said, interrupting Gladstone’s spiraling guilt.
He jolted. “…it’s my cousin,” he said at last, carefully.
Liu Hai’s eyes glittered. “The one who you said have survived a lot of… wild things, as you said?”
Gladstone blinked. “…yes,” he said slowly. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no, nothing, I’m only curious,” Liu Hai replied. “What kind of person is your cousin, if I may ask?”
Gladstone looked down at his phone. Somehow, he had enough wit about him to make a show of thinking.
Liu Hai was interested in Donald. That much was obvious. Maybe if he could play his cards right, he could find a way to make Donald come and get him out of here. Donald had survived a lot of things despite his horrible luck, and his experience adventuring with Uncle Scrooge made him resourceful and strong. He was most likely Gladstone’s best chance at escaping the casino.
Gladstone may rely on his luck in basically everything in his life, but if there was anything he was good at, it was at charm and words. He hoped they wouldn’t fail him now.
“Well, he’s… he can be a bit overbearing,” he began. It seemed like a good place to start. “But he’s a good person, and a caring one. He’s gone on a lot of adventures with my uncle and they’ve survived a lot of things I wouldn’t expect other people to survive.” All true. The things Donald had survived in his adventures were… incredible, to say the least. It was as if his everyday luck had been allocated for the adventures he went through. Hopefully, it would make it sound like he had incredible luck, though not as much as Gladstone.
“Is that so,” Liu Hai mused. A bait, so Gladstone would say more.
Gladstone took it. If he was lucky, and he was, he might be able to cast his own bait and avoid suspicion. “He’s gotten a lot of magical treasures, when he was still adventuring with Uncle Scrooge.” Please don’t notice the intentional and hopefully not painfully obvious namedrop. “Apparently, he’s avoided a lot of booby traps by a feather’s breadth. He doesn’t really do adventuring anymore, though. He’s raising a set of triplets; his sister’s. She’s – “ Gladstone cleared his throat. “She died, many years ago.”
“Oh, my condolences,” Liu Hai said. He sounded sincere enough, but Gladstone knew better. His eyes had glinted hungrily, when he heard Uncle Scrooge’s name.
“It’s fine. It’s been a long time,” Gladstone assured. When he spoke again, he hoped he’d infused the appropriate amount of wistfulness in his tone. “Donald, though… it’s been a while since I last saw him, even though we keep in touch.”
The hunger in Liu Hai’s eyes was palpable. Apparently, it wasn’t enough that he’d been sucking Gladstone’s luck for a month straight. “Well, Mr. Gander. I wouldn’t mind if you invite your family here from time to time. After all, it would be cruel if I never give you access to your dear relatives.”
He took the bait. Knowing he needed to be careful not too seem to eager, Gladstone widened his eyes at Liu Hai in what he hoped would look like surprise and hopefulness, then looked away. “I don’t know if I should. We haven’t talked a lot, lately.”
“I’m sure he would like to reconnect,” Liu Hai coaxed. “In fact, why don’t you invite him here? Invite your uncle, too, as well as the triplets, and whoever they want to bring. I wouldn’t mind letting them stay over, since we have many rooms here.” Liu Hai’s eyes glimmered even more as he mentioned Uncle Scrooge.
Gladstone stared at him, letting suspicion break through his face. It wasn’t hard to do. “You’re keeping me here. What’s keeping you from preventing them from getting out?”
“Why, Mr. Gander, I wouldn’t keep them inside forever!” Liu Hai said. “I wouldn’t keep you forever, either. Sooner or later I will let you walk out of my House. Though, I admit that with you, I want to keep you for longer. Your luck has been especially refreshing.”
Gladstone made a show of falling silent. “You wouldn’t keep them here?” he asked, voice soft. It was as much a ploy to make him inviting Donald less suspicious as it was a genuine question.
“Not for long,” Liu Hai promised.
Gladstone looked away, looking conflicted.
“Oh, come now,” Liu Hai said, coaxing again. “I wouldn’t do anything cruel to them. They’re your family, after all. I wouldn’t dream of, say, doing an exchange; keeping them all in the casino and letting you go.”
Gladstone turned back at him so fast he got whiplash, anger and disbelief mixing in one.
There was also horror. A part of him longed to get out so much, for a split second the thought of leaving Donald and the rest behind seemed almost intriguing. It was drowned out in angry denial almost immediately.
“I wouldn’t dream of it!” Liu Hai placated. “I simply want your stay to be as comfortable as it can be, for you.”
Gladstone looked down at his phone in what he hoped looked like hesitant hope. “Well,” he said after a while, “we haven’t really hung out for a while. Maybe…”
“Invite them,” Liu Hai said, encouraging. “What’s some bonding time between relatives?”
Gladstone waited for a short while – a few seconds or so, just so he didn’t look too eager. He took a deep breath, stared at Donald’s last text, and started typing. He paused when Liu Hai grabbed his wrist, suddenly.
“I would appreciate it if you don’t mention… well, I’m sure you know what I would prefer not be mentioned,” he said.
“Of course,” Gladstone answered and typed his message. He already knew.
[7:11 AM] Me:
hey cuz!
sorry for the radio silence
i’m not ignoring you, i promise
i just lost my phone charger for a while and can’t contact anyone.
not gonna happen again
i’m not ignoring you or anything, promise. talk to me?
[7:12 AM] Donaldo:
you’re alive!
AND WHAT THE FLIPPING FRICK DID YOU MEAN YOU LOST YOUR CHARGER.
DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED I’VE BEEN
i’m going to punt you into the sun, you curly haired idiot.
[7:13 AM] Me:
hey, i said sorry.
[7:13 AM] Donaldo:
i’m still gonna punch yuo
eff off, you piece of garbage.
[7:13 AM] Me:
cuss me out properly, you coward
[7:14 AM] Donaldo:
excuse you
i have kids to think about here
i can’t set a bad examlpe
also they sometimes steal my phone
[7:15 AM] Me:
truly a tragedy
hey
you know that im in macaw right
[7:16 AM] Donaldo:
of course i do
what abt it
[7:17 AM] Me:
how would you feel about visitng me here
[7:17 AM] Donaldo:
what
[7:17 AM] Me:
cmon cuz you need a vacation sometimes
[7:18 AM] Donaldo:
im unemployed right now
i don’t need vacation
why don’t you come home instead?
[7:19 AM] Me:
cause i want to show macaw to you
cmon. the egg tarts are scrumptious and the pork buns are delish.
you can even brig the kids too
and i’m sure theres something around here scrooge would be interested in
[7:21 AM] Donaldo:
that’s not exactly hard to find
scrooge gets interested in everything
[7:22 AM] Me:
cmon don
it will be fun
[7:22 AM] Donaldo:
i dunno…
[7:23 AM] Me:
please, donnie?
Gladstone was almost scared to breathe. This was it. Donald knew he never called him Donnie, not after Della, not unless he was in deep, deep shit and needed help. This counted, and he hoped Donald would realize that and not call him out on it, asking what was wrong.
Tense moments ticked by before his phone finally dinged with Donald’s reply.
[7:25 AM] Donaldo:
fine
give me 3 days max to prepare and travel
He let go of the air he held in his lungs as relief flooded his veins.
[7:25 AM] Me:
thanks don!
rn i’m staying at house of the lucky fortune
so you might want to look up the establishment before booking a room or something
see you around.
[7:27 AM] Donaldo:
yeah, yeah
stay safe, glads.
“He said he’ll be here in about three days,” Gladstone said.
Liu Hai, who had been looming over him and reading the texts from behind, hummed pleasantly. “Then I suppose we shall prepare to greet them,” Liu Hai said. “Do you feel well enough to eat, Mr. Gander? I’ve prepared chicken broth, but I can bring something light for you to eat. Congee, perhaps.”
Gladstone wasn’t that hungry, but he probably should eat something. “Congee sounds good, thanks,” he decided.
“It’s no problem at all,” Liu Hai said. His fingers brushed over Gladstone’s, and the world spun for a split second. “We only want the best for our lucky guests.”
Gladstone pressed his back to the headboard and hoped Donald could get him out of the casino.
Gladstone spent the next few days roaming the casino, playing the occasional games when he felt like it and pulling slots here and there. Liu Hai was honest, at least. His luck didn’t seem to have changed. He won every game he chose to play.
He also roamed the establishment in general, looking for the exit. He could feel Liu Hai following his every move, so he made sure he always made it look like he was aimlessly walking instead of searching. He struck gold on the noon of the second day, finally seeing the reception desk.
He walked briskly there, but he found a force holding him back, a sudden tug at his ankle. It surprised him, and he lost his footing, falling to the floor and somehow managing to break his fall with his hands. He turned to look at his foot, and he hissed out a curse when he saw a spectral cuff chaining him to the deepest part of the casino.
He felt Liu Hai approaching him before he saw the toad. He tugged his foot forcefully, but the cuff wouldn’t budge, and the spectral chains only rattled.
“Now, this wouldn’t do, Mr. Gander.” Liu Hai’s voice was cold and booming and it sent chills down Gladstone’s spine and made him freeze. He turned, slowly, to see Liu Hai looming over him. “Your family will be here in a short while. It would be rude if you leave without seeing them first.”
“Well, that’s what a phone is for,” Gladstone replied cheekily. “I could call them.” He paused, then backtracked. “You’re right, though. It is rude to change plans in the last minute.”
“Please, go back inside,” Liu Hai said, and it sounded like a more polite version of a parent telling a child to go back to their room that Gladstone had to pause.
Liu Hai took that little moment of pause and frowned. Jade green robes took over his shirt, headdress materializing on his head, as the red walls deepened into obsidian black. A flurry of jade green cloth and light swallowed Gladstone whole. He ducked his head, holding out his arms over it to protect himself. The feeling of fabric brushing against his feathers made him stiffen as the cloth whipped around him.
The flurry of fabric disappeared, and Gladstone chanced a peek. With a blink, he slowly let his arms down.
He was back in the casino.
Liu Hai appeared by his side, back in his usual shirt. He clapped Gladstone’s shoulder and the vertigo hit him full force.
“I wouldn’t want you to miss meeting your family, Mr. Gander,” said Liu Hai. He let go, and the dizzy spin stopped. “Please, stay in and enjoy the games.”
Gladstone grabbed the edge of a table to stabilize himself. He blinked and waited until the world settled, then looked around to survey the casino. His gaze met Liu Hai’s expectant one.
He gulped. “…I guess I should… look around then. See if there’s anything that catches my eye here.”
“I believe it would be for the best,” Liu Hai said coolly. When Gladstone walked away, Liu Hai’s gaze followed him, and it became clear that he wouldn’t have any luck finding his way out again.
When he walked to the direction of the exit he found, he saw that the corridor leaving outside wasn’t there anymore. He swallowed his scream of frustration and went back to his room, cranked up the heat in the jacuzzi as far as it could go, and plopped himself down in steaming hot water. He only bothered coming out when night descended on him.
He dropped back down into the hot tub the next morning and wondered how it would feel like to drown.
Donald came with the triplets, Uncle Scrooge, and a girl Gladstone didn’t recognize that soon introduced herself as Webby. When they made their way to his room and stood there by the elevator staring at Gladstone dumbly blinking at them, Donald wore a scowl that only announced the world that he was a duck on a mission.
He marched to Gladstone, practically plucking him out of the hot tub and splashing water everywhere. He hugged Gladstone close and squeezed, seemingly unbothered when Gladstone squirmed in surprise, protesting about wetting Donald’s clothes.
“I don’t care, you idiot,” Donald hissed to Gladstone’s ear, still hugging him fiercely. “I’m not scared of a little water.” He let go and held Gladstone at arm’s length, glaring intensely into Gladstone’s eyes. “Don’t you ever disappear without a trace like that again.”
“Wouldn’t dream on it,” Gladstone answered, sighing. Donald’s presence was a balm, soothing against his chafed being, a proverbial light of hope at the end of the tunnel. He might not be able to tell Donald, exactly, what was going on. Liu Hai would keep a close eye on them, with him wanting to get a taste of their luck, but Donald already knew he needed help, and he could always count on Donald to help.
Always. Donald was good at that.
Donald was silent for a moment, his eyes searching Gladstone’s. He patted Gladstone up and down, looking for bruises and cuts, and seemed satisfied when he found none. He glanced at the jacuzzi and frowned, but didn’t comment on it. He leaned in. “Glads, what happened?” he whispered, so soft Gladstone nearly didn’t hear.
Liu Hai presence had become a constant, a familiarity Gladstone wished he didn’t have. Right now, it pressed against his skull as his seemingly omnipotent eyes watched his moves within the boundaries of the House. He gritted his teeth and ground out, “Donnie,” and hoped Donald would understand.
Donald frowned, but his eyes grew grimmer. Gladstone could only hope it meant he understood.
Uncle Scrooge was all about getting out of the establishment, yammering about some cricket – okay, so it was some sort of treasure or whatever shenanigans, Gladstone should have figured – and Gladstone understood and agreed whole heartedly. When Donald and Louie decided to stay behind, Donald threw him a pointed look.
Gladstone understood. Putting a smile and pretending everything was fine was easy, and it was easy to keep Louie in the dark, at least just until everything was done and they were all safe from harm. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to Louie either; he was easily his favorite nephew out of the bunch. He brought them to the casino, hoping that at the very least Donald’s terrible luck would influence his terrific one, and maybe they would meet in the middle and cancel each other’s luck instead of driving them to the extremes.
Liu Hai was at the casino, tailing Uncle Scrooge and the kids, keeping them with promises of shows and games and pets and food. Gladstone kept them at the corner of his vision as he tried game after game after game with both Donald Louie, growing dismayed and hopeless when it only became clear that Donald’s presence had only made his luck better than usual and Donald’s worse instead of his hope of them cancelling out. Louie grew enamored at Gladstone’s luck, and Donald grew frustrated, and Gladstone bit his tongue to keep himself from screaming. For all his luck, nothing seemed to be going as he had hoped.
And it had become clear that Liu Hai was keen on keeping them all inside. When it became clear that Uncle Scrooge was running around in circles trying to find the exit, Gladstone realized Liu Hai was moving it around again.
Donald’s frustrations kept piling up, and he finally had enough, and decided to leave as Uncle Scrooge managed to trick Liu Hai into revealing where the exit was somehow. Gladstone pleaded him to stay inside, running to the exit to chase him, and was pulled back when the chain yanked as he pulled it taut.
“Did I not mention that I’m a prisoner here and that’s why I called you for help?” Gladstone revealed at last. The cat was out of the bag. Everyone could see the spectral chains.
“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Louie asked, looking at him in confusion, eyeing the chains in obvious distrust.
“Because I’d find out.” Liu Hai loomed over them, jade green robes taking over his clothes as he grew larger, and larger, and larger. The casino fell like a deck of cards and Gladstone knew immediately that his power had grown stronger; there wasn’t nearly as much theatrics last time. The people fell too, into cards and into Liu Hai’s hand, and Gladstone wondered if they were even real in the first place. Liu Hai introduced himself to Uncle Scrooge at last, hunger in his eyes.
“Finally, a proper adventure,” Uncle Scrooge said, all too eager to go toe to toe with Liu Hai.
The lurch in Gladstone’s stomach was out of fear this time, not of Liu Hai taking his luck. “Uh, yeah, you don’t want to mess with Toad. He’s a luck vampire. He’s held me captive here to feast off my natural good luck. I’m that delicious.”
Dewey stared. “Are you bragging about that?”
Gladstone shrugged it off. It wasn’t bragging if Liu Hai had told him outright. “I hoped Donald would break my lucky streak,” he said, shooting an apologetic look at Donald. “And… he’s good at getting people out of trouble. And sometimes, our luck cancels each other’s.”
Donald looked away, something unreadable in his eyes, and Gladstone felt guilt crushing at his chest. Before he could say anything, Liu Hai’s voice boomed out.
“Gladstone’s good fortune had been satisfying, but surely, as the richest duck in the world, Scrooge McDuck’s luck must be the most delicious feast of all.” The hunger in his eyes was clear.
“Luck has nothing to do with my success,” Uncle Scrooge said, and challenged Liu Hai to one game, and if he won, Liu Hai had to set them all free.
Which was a terrible plan. Liu Hai was a luck vampire. Uncle Scrooge should have told him to set them free if they lost, to prove that his luck wasn’t all that good.
But it was the way the cards fell, and Liu Hai accepted the challenge. While Uncle Scrooge was all ready to jump right into the game, Liu Hai gave them rules yet again. He plucked Gladstone to be his champion and Donald to be Uncle Scrooge’s. Donald’s eyes widened and he gulped, clearly understanding the implications of it all.
Gladstone stepped out. “Now, wait a second. You already know Donald’s luck is terrible. It won’t make for a good game. Pick someone else?”
“Oh, no, no. I’m good with my picks,” Liu Hai declined. “The winner goes free, and the loser is doomed.” The cards underneath Gladstone and Donald’s feet lowered and transported them to the start line as Liu Hai’s laughter echoed in the obsidian darkness streaked with pathways of jade green cards.
Gladstone clenched his fists and tried to keep himself calm under mounting panic. He glared at Liu Hai. “You said you wouldn’t do this,” he said. “You said you wouldn’t dream of exchanging me for my family.”
“Times change, Mr. Gander,” Liu Hai answered, calmly shuffling his cards. “And really, it’s your dear uncle who did the exchange. I’m merely answering to his challenge. Do you not want to have a chance to get out, after all? You’ve been asking to go.”
The words felt like a slap against him, and Gladstone wavered. He didn’t want anyone to go through what he had gone through. The fatigue, the desperate want to escape.
But he also didn’t want to stay.
Perhaps it would be best to leave it all to fate.
There was something brushing against Gladstone’s knuckles when they got to the start line, and there was a lurch in his stomach. Liu Hai took his luck again, just a little. Gladstone didn’t know why. Beside him, Donald jolted and jumped to a stance, wary and alert, and Gladstone knew he felt the same thing.
“Sweet-thick honey, from coastal flowers,” Liu Hai mused. He shot Gladstone a smile. “So it does run in the family.”
Donald stared at Liu Hai, then at Gladstone. “Does he… do that a lot?”
Gladstone hesitated. “…yes,” he said at length.
Donald’s gaze turned to Liu Hai in dawning horror that soon turned into cold, focused anger.
The game started, and Donald shot forward. Gladstone dawdled, partly because he wanted to give Donald a better chance, partly because he knew his luck would bring him to the finish line first anyway. The path he took proved to be perfect for a stroll while Donald’s was rife with danger. It didn’t mean he didn’t meet challenges, but things always fell perfectly for him, leaving his path with nothing but a clear way to the finish line.
“I’m really sorry about this,” Gladstone yelled to Donald when it became clear that he would win. Because he was. But he also really didn’t want to stay for the rest of his life.
Against all odds, Donald pulled his weight in the last stretch and won the game. As per their agreement, he agreed to let them go, but kept Gladstone with him.
“I still have the luckiest feast on earth,” Liu Hai said, but it wasn’t as consoling as Gladstone hoped. When Liu Hai pulled his chain, Gladstone flailed, desperate not to fall back into his clutches. Donald grabbed his hands.
Uncle Scrooge stepped on the chain, stopping the motion. “Actually, Liu Hai, Gladstone lost to Donald. So technically Donald is the new luckiest guy on earth. It’s really him you should take.”
“What!” the kids squawked.
Their voice was drowned out by Donald reflexively yelling in challenge, “Yeah!” Then, as Gladstone gaped at him, he realized what he said and yelled again, “Wait, no!”
But Liu Hai agreed, despite Louie reminding him that it wasn’t the deal, and the cuff at Gladstone’s ankle disappeared only to reappear at Donald’s neck. Liu Hai let them out of the House, and as the building disappeared from their sight they reappeared at the docks outside.
Louie screeched, calling for Donald. “I can’t believe you just gave him up!” he yelled at Uncle Scrooge.
Gladstone grimaced. Guilt churned – it was his fault, in a way, bringing them all here and having Donald eventually take his place, even if the exchange was proposed by Uncle Scrooge. “The kid’s not wrong, Uncle McDuncle. What do we do?”
Uncle Scrooge simply leaned back and counted down on one hand. “Three, two, one.” He walked back a few steps off the stairs, pushing Louie back with his arm.
On cue, the door blasted open and Donald was thrown out. He smacked right into Gladstone and they both tumbled down the docks.
Liu Hai leaned at the doorframe, gangly and emaciated. “His luck, it’s awful,” he moaned. “So awful!”
“Didn’t you say it tasted like honey from coastal flowers?” Gladstone couldn’t help but ask.
“A front! A layer of sweetness to hide the seawater and expired canned tuna!”
House of the Lucky Fortune disappeared in a beam of light as Liu Hai’s scream of So awful! echoed through the night. Gladstone blinked against the light and dumbly stared at the empty lot left behind.
“All my things are still there,” he said.
“We’ll figure it out later,” Uncle Scrooge said, pulling him to his feet and steadying him when he wobbled. “Now, come on. We have a cricket to see.”
“Actually, Uncle Scrooge,” Donald piped up, “can you go ahead and pick us up later? Gladstone promised to show me Macaw.” He glanced meaningfully at Gladstone.
He blinked. “I – yeah! Yeah. The street food here is good.”
“Didn’t you say all your things disappeared with the hotel?” Uncle Scrooge asked.
Gladstone just shrugged. “I’ll find some cash, it’s okay.” On cue, a twenty Hong Kong dollar bill floated and landed on his beak. He waved it to Donald. “See, Donaldo? This will be your pork bun.”
“Sure, sure. Let’s go.” Donald led him away from the docks.
“We’ll call when we get near again later!” Huey yelled.
“Okay, thanks Huey!”
Donald led him through the streets despite obviously not knowing where they were. Gladstone tugged at his sleeve after a while. “Where exactly are you going? You don’t know where to go.”
“Away,” was all Donald said.
“You’re just going to go around in circles.”
“It’s fine. As long as we’re moving.”
“At least let me go. I can move on my own.”
“No.” At this, Donald turned to look at him. His eyes seemed to burn under the neon lights of busy Macaw streets. “Gladdie, you’re trembling.”
Gladstone blinked at him and held up his free hand. As Donald said, it was trembling. “…huh.”
“Have you eaten today?”
Gladstone stared at Donald blankly. “I don’t remember,” he admitted.
Donald huffed. “Let’s get something to eat. Come on.”
“Wait, hold on,” Gladstone said, digging his heels in as he desperately tried to regain control. Donald stopped and looked at him, and something in Gladstone relaxed. He looked around. “I recognize this area. Come this way, there’s a vendor that sells great dumplings.” He walked briskly, looking around. “What time is it?”
“Around eight,” Donald answered.
“Oh good, the vendor sells until midnight.”
They got the dumplings, and Donald brought them to a bench right at the side of the road because the cramped eating space the vendor provided made Gladstone jittery. They ate in silence, listening to the growl of engines and the murmurs of people talking in a language neither of them spoke.
“How long were you there?” Donald asked after his share of dumplings were eaten.
Gladstone chewed his last dumpling slowly. “A little over a month,” he answered. “I don’t think I want to know how long, exactly.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Donald demanded. “I would’ve come earlier if you did.”
“I only found out it’s been that long when I texted you.” Gladstone put away the takeout container the dumplings were in. “I was mostly asleep.”
“Mostly asleep?”
“Apparently having someone eat your luck makes you tired. I basically slept for a month straight.”
Donald choked on water. “Gladstone, that’s a coma!”
Gladstone hummed and plucked the water bottle off Donald’s hand, taking a swig. Even now there was a wooziness and something weighing his limbs. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the prolonged sleep or the fact that he apparently hadn’t eaten all day.
“Is this going to be like when we were kids and met some dream demon who gave us nightmares and we had to do sleepovers for a week before we were brave enough to sleep by ourselves?” Donald asked, concerned.
“No. I was scared of going to sleep then because of the nightmares. I didn’t dream, this time. I don’t think I’d react well if someone touched me while I sleep, though.”
Donald stared, and something crystallized in his eyes. “When Uncle Scrooge comes back, you’re coming with us back to Duckburg.”
Gladstone blinked at him.
“He basically expected you’re coming home with us anyway. He has your room prepared for you in the manor if you want to stay.”
“I have a room in the manor?” Gladstone blurted.
“Uncle Scrooge have one for each of us,” Donald said, and Gladstone understood it to mean Donald, Della, Fethry, and himself. “He might be stingy, but he won’t let us sleep under a bridge.”
“That’s true.”
“Will you come back with us?” Donald asked, staring at Gladstone.
Years of keeping a distance from his relatives made Gladstone open his mouth to say no, but he swallowed the refusal and thought it through. He’d been away from Duckburg for a long time, he hadn’t spent time with his relatives, and he knew Donald would want him around because he wanted him to be safe, not because of his luck.
He was sick of someone wanting him around for his luck.
And Donald felt safe. His family felt safe. He knew for a fact that Uncle Scrooge would never let harm of any kind befall anyone in the manor. It would be safe.
“I’ll go back with you,” he said, voice only above a murmur. Donald heard it all the same, and he gave a quick, reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.
Uncle Scrooge called them hours later, a little past midnight, and told them to go to the docks where Launchpad had landed the plane. It was the same docks where House of the Lucky Fortune used to stand, and Gladstone found his fingers growing cold the closer he got there. Donald noticed – he always noticed, and years of raising three children at once didn’t make his eyes any less keen – and gently held his hand, guiding him along the way until they got into the plane.
Uncle Scrooge held them up at the ramps, taking the time to study Gladstone’s face. He didn’t say anything, but his gaze softened. “I’ve had Beakley prepare your room for you. Did you eat yet?”
“We ate dumplings earlier,” Donald answered for Gladstone. “And we bought some pork buns. We have enough for everyone.”
“Save them for later. We’ll eat once we’re back home. The kids are sleeping.”
Donald’s voice immediately dropped to a whisper. “Okay. How was the cricket?”
Uncle Scrooge scrunched up his nose. It was all the answer Donald needed, apparently.
Gladstone spent the trip back to Duckburg bobbing in and out of unconsciousness and jerked awake when Launchpad landed roughly. Donald corralled the kids inside and made sure they brushed their teeth before going to bed while Uncle Scrooge gently nudged Gladstone to do the same.
“I’m not a kid, Uncle Scrooge, I know I’m supposed to brush my teeth before sleeping,” Gladstone protested, rolling his eyes. “You don’t need to keep an eye on me to do it.”
“Oh, I’m not here to make sure you brush your teeth properly,” Uncle Scrooge said. “I’m here to make sure you don’t fall asleep on your feet, because you look ready to do it.”
Gladstone turned to look at the mirror. He did look like a mess. Had he been going around the streets of Macaw like this? He shook his head and did his share of brushing, and Uncle Scrooge showed him to his room.
“Is it the one I used when I was a kid? Because if yes, I know the way already,” Gladstone said dryly.
“It’s a different one. The old room had a leak and we ended up renovating the entire wing,” Uncle Scrooge answered. He pushed a door open and gestured. “There you go. There’s a fresh set of pajamas in the wardrobe. Good night, now.” He closed the door behind him when he walked away, but left it open a crack. Gladstone didn’t bother closing it fully, not keen on the idea of being in a closed space all of a sudden.
The room was painted pale, pale green, and the furniture were mostly deep brown of the best dark wood. Someone, either Uncle Scrooge or the housekeeper – Beakley, if Gladstone remembered correctly – had chosen a leaf green bedsheet and pillowcase paired with forest green blanket. The rug on the floor was the same forest green with patterns of white and yellow clovers. Gladstone walked to the wardrobe and took out the pajamas. It was a pale chartreuse, made from soft cotton that was perfect for Duckburg’s humid summer nights. He put it on and breathed in the scent of detergent that was unique to the laundry in Uncle Scrooge’s home. He’d been using the same stuff since Gladstone was little, and it made Gladstone relax as he remembered his childhood, scrubbing clothes clean after playing with his cousins in the mud.
The linen blanket wasn’t as soft as the pajamas, but it was comforting, and it had the same scent. Gladstone snuggled into it and let the texture ground him to reality.
Everything came crashing down.
He was out of the House. He was free, safe in the manor, wrapped in the scent he’d associated closely with Uncle Scrooge, with Donald only a call away and the kids sleeping in their own room. He was far away from Liu Hai’s prying eyes and light touches and the quick, greedy drain of his luck that left him lethargic. It almost felt unreal. He could still feel the cuff tugging at his ankle, even oceans away from Macaw. He didn’t think he could go back there ever again.
He cried himself to sleep swallowing his fear that this was only a dream. His tears tasted like freedom and coming home.
Gladstone woke up.
He blinked as he surveyed the room. Sunlight seeped through the curtains, washing the room in yellow-green light of the curtain’s thin fabric. There were patterns at the rim of the ceiling, Gladstone realized. Clovers, intertwined with each other.
He changed his clothes and got out of the room, making a beeline to the bathroom to refresh himself. When he was done, he dragged himself to the kitchen and found the occupants of the manor already there.
“Good to see you joining us,” Uncle Scrooge commented. “You look better.”
“I feel better,” Gladstone admitted. “What are we having for breakfast?”
“Brunch, technically,” Huey corrected. “Uncle Donald is making pancakes and we have the pork buns from last night.”
“Ol’ Donaldo’s pancakes? Sign me up,” Gladstone said, perking up. Donald’s pancakes were legendary.
“There’s also salad,” Louie informed unenthusiastically.
“Clover salad,” Dewey added, eying the bowl of greens in the middle of the table with distaste. “I still don’t get why you made it, Uncle Donald.”
“I told you it’s Gladstone’s favorite,” Donald answered as he flipped a pancake at the stove.
“It’s grass, Uncle Donald!” Louie yelled.
“Aww, Dons! You remembered,” Gladstone said at the same time, teasing and feeling touched at the same time.
“Of course I remember. You’re the only person I know who likes eating grass,” Donald said, exchanging a look with Louie.
“It’s perfectly edible! But yes, it is an acquired taste,” Gladstone defended.
“At least we know what to eat if we ever get stranded in the wilderness?” Webby hedged. By her side, Huey scribbled something into his book.
“I’d rather eat dirt, it wouldn’t taste that different,” Dewey pouted.
“Hey, I’m not going to sit here and let you slander clover,” Gladstone said, and soon the conversation descended to pro- and anti-clover debate. It was silly, and light, and utterly removed from any mention of luck that anyone might normally mention, with clovers and the possibility of finding four-leafed ones.
Gladstone hadn’t felt this at ease for a long, long time. He settled in his seat, eating the greens until Donald dropped three pancakes into his plate, and savored the taste of each bite he took. It all tasted delicious. Even the water was tastier than the water in the casino. The buffet Liu Hai provided couldn’t compare to the humble, perfectly made pancakes Donald served fresh off the stove, slight chars and all.
Gladstone was home at last.
