Long Loud Way to Go

	It was a clear, cool morning in Royal Woods--the sun peeked out from the top of the other houses and trees beyond, and a subtle breeze rustled their vibrant green leaves. It was more than perfect, Lincoln Loud thought, for a variation on his comic book reading habits (which otherwise include lounging around his room wearing little more than his underwear), and go out on the front stoop to read. This went over well for about seven pages.
	Lincoln begrudgingly braved the shaking and metallic rattling of the gutters above; he’d forgotten that the guy his parents recruited for some extra help had clocked in early with Lana. The scraping of trowel against aluminum and the occasional splatter of gutter slime quickly became too much for Lincoln; he wanted to call out to those two to keep the noise down, had he not almost been hit by one of them on his sharp descent. The person must’ve slipped or something, as he fell face-first into the shrubbery adjacent to the stoop Lincoln had been sitting on.

	Lincoln tossed his comic aside and scrambled to the shrubs, bushing branches aside. “Y’aright in there?” he asked.
	“Ooghhh, a little bruised, but I’m okay,” said the person as he emerged, picking little pieces of plant matter off his clothes, “At least these weren’t brambles--HOOO, then it’d hurt for real! Hey Lana, did I break something?”
	“Oof, yeah--she’s real loose now!” Lana called back worriedly, rattling the now free-swinging gutter.
	“Oh, great...”
	Lincoln hadn’t met this fellow before: he was a tall, gangly boy who sported somewhat worn clothes and a mane of darkish hair that came close to covering his eyes. He seemed friendly enough though, Lincoln thought.
	‘Ehm, yeah,” Lincoln responded awkwardly, “you’re the guy who helps around the house, right?”
	“Well, only when I’m needed,” the person responded, “I’m Anon--you’re Lincoln, I guess?” He outstretched his hand, which Lincoln shook.
	“Yup. Oh, I wanna ask--”
	“About the noise? Gutter cleaning,” Anon replied simply, “I think I snagged a joint and popped a couple rivets--could I talk with your dad?”
	“Oh sure!

	Lincoln’s father, Lynn Sr., determined that a replacement was in order for the gutters that Anon had partly destroyed. Anon seemed a bit freaked (which was a bit strange to Lincoln), but was told not to worry--he could keep his wages for an otherwise well-done job.
	“Here’s the other $10 from last time, bud!” Lynn Sr. said with a smile, “And seriously, don’t stress about the gutters.”
	Okay, if you say so! Have a good one, Mr. Loud. Thanks again, Lana!” He waved to Lana, still sitting on the roof. “Bye, Lincoln.” Anon waved as he hoisted his knapsack over his back and strode down the road. Lincoln waved back, but was a tad annoyed--no longer because of his partially sullied morning, but because of how Anon was rewarded. He sidled up to his father as they entered the house, “Dad, why only $10? A gutter cleaning like that would be worth like $15 tops!”
	“That’s what he insisted on, Lincoln,” Lynn Sr. said as he sipped at his coffee, “In fact, what I gave him was the other half of the $20 I offered the last time he was here working. Heck, he just now tried to talk me down to $5 because of the gutter damage. Gotta say, the kid’s very easy on the wallet!”
	“He does a decent job,” Lana said as she walked through the kitchen door, tracking a thin but noticeable layer of gutter slime onto the checkered tile floor, “I say we should twist his arm a little on it!”
	“Now now, Lana--” Lynn Sr. began, but Lana wouldn’t hear it. She began listing off reason after reason as to what types of jobs merit what amount to payment to the worker. Lincoln groaned, and sauntered to the refuge of his room, comic book in hand.
---
	And so, the weeks progressed with very little happening in terms of major events, aside from Anon’s occasional pilgrimages to the neighborhood. During the times he was at the house working, usually with Lana guiding him along, Lincoln made attempts to break the ice with him. He found that talking about comic books was a successful start.
	“...so then they go through the gem cave, right? And right as they motor out of it, the missile’s just staring them right in the face--”
	“Whoa, slow down!” Lincoln laughed, “I don’t want a spoiler!”
	“No worries, that’s really as far a I got.” Anon replied as he blew chips of dried paint off his arm, “Never really found the time to get back into it.”
	“Are you gonna?”
	“Huh, maybe. Anyway, How’s the current run of--”
	“‘Ey Anon, less gumming an’ more scraping, yeah?” Lana said impatiently, peering around the corner of the toolshed they were working on.
	“Right-o,” Anon said, and then to lincoln: “I’ll catch you on my break.”
	When the break did come, the boys retired to the back steps, each with a glass of lemonade in hand. Lincoln downed his in half a minute, while Anon took one gulp and nearly gagged.
	“What? It’s not THAT sour!”
	“Eugh, that’s just it--it’s real sweet.”
	“Not a fan?”
	“Nah, just hadn’t had something this sweet in a while.”
	Just then, the screen door opened behind them and Rita, Lincoln’s mother, stuck her head out. “Lana, sweetie--I think it’s safe to say that that shed is ready!”
	Lana, who’d refused a break, wasted no time in gathering up her scrapers and making for the garage, emerging a minute later with two cans of wood stain and some rollers.
	“Y’work fast, don’cha?” Anon called over to her.
	“Always,” Lana said enthusiastically, but then with a teasing smirk, “Unlike you, who sits on his tush all day!”
	Anon snorted, set his quarter-full glass down, and began to go over to help when Rita came back out. “Anon, could you come in here for a minute please?”
	Anon gazed blankly. “Eh?”
	“Come inside for a bit, please? Lynn and I would like to speak with you.”
	“Oh,” Anon murmured, looking oddly surprised, “Alright.” Slowly, he turned and disappeared into the doorway following Rita. Lincoln sat there confused. Why did Anon seem so hesitant?

	After a brief conversation with Rita and Lynn regarding potential future tasks that may require the use of him, Anon was then properly introduced to the other eight members of the family--although seven would properly represent those introduced, for Lori, the oldest Loud child, gave little more than a passing ‘hey’ before continuing her videochat. Lisa, the second youngest, informed her parents that ‘visitors are not permitted while she is performing critical experimentation’. As for the others, they introduced themselves to Anon in their own manner:

	Leni was about to say ‘hi’, but she stopped to scrutinize his attire. “You are, like, totes haggard. You need a fashion overhaul.”

	Luna greeted him with her characteristic enthusiasm: “‘Sup, bro?” She barely made eye contact, for she was preoccupying herself with tuning a mandolin.

	“Hiya! Put’er there!” Luan said, grinning widely. Absentmindedly outstretching his hand to take hers, he was rewarded with a sudden, violent ZAP. Luan cackled, opening her palm to reveal a joy-buzzer. “Relax, it’s not lethal!” she reassured him as she left him with his smoking hand.

	Lynn Jr. shouted “HUT!” for a greeting before hurling a football into Anon’s arms hard enough to nearly wind him.

	Lucy barely peered over the back of the couch, her presence identified by the dark mass that was her hair.

	Lola paraded around clad in a sparkly pink cheerleader uniform, but as opposed to twirling her baton she pointed it at Anon, stating: “I may be adorable, bit don’t you DARE come near me with those scummy hands!” to which Anon replied “...what?”

	Baby Lily seemed to be elated to see Anon, and she demonstrated with a bright smile and formless but happy coos.

	It was about 5:30 after all was said and done, during which Lana had half the shed restored to its clean beige luster. Upon her return she teased Anon for being lazy.
	“Look, I was needed in here!”
	“Suuuure,” Lana said with a wry, toothy grin, “fer socializing an’ goldbricking!”
	Anon glowered at her. “Listen, you--”
	“Aw, lighten up!” she chuckled, throwing a playful punch at his side. Anon smirked and delivered a small noogie on her head. She squealed and scampered off the couch they were sitting on, something that Anon simply couldn’t not smile at. A short moment later, Lincoln hurried down the stairs and plopped down on the couch with some news. “So, I did my research, and the comic you told me ‘bout is a limited series from the late 80’s--that’s OLD stuff.”
	“Right--and the fact that it’s late 80’s makes it awesome.”
	“Looks kinda hokey, but--”
	“Lincoln, don’t say ‘hokey’ unironically when you’re talking about--”
	“Heya, Anon,” Lynn Sr. said, shuffling into the living room, “don’t let Lana strongarm you, you did a great job on scraping off the ol’ shed today.”
	Anon rose from his seat and smiled. “Thanks Mr Loud, I was happy to do it.”
	“Glad to hear it. Say, Rita was wondering if maybe you’d like to join us all for supper this evening?”
	Anon froze and his face fell. “Err, reall-uhm, yeah?”
	“Absolutely! That is, if you’re able.”
	“Oh sure, I’d be happy to!” Anon replied with a grin, though his tone, lincoln had noticed, didn’t match the face. Anon sounded unsure and reluctant yet again.
	“Fantastic! I’ll let Rita know.” With that, Lynn Sr, turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen

---
	Anon sat at the very corner of the dining table as that night’s supper was passed around on glass plates. The Louds tittered their normal table-chatter as they settled in for the meal. Anon sank a bit into his seat, skewering a few hunks of the potato salad on the corner of his plate. Taking a bite, he realized quickly that this was very well-made, as several of the children verbally noted to their mother. So was the slab of beef that served as the main course; he relished this delightful meal greatly. So much so, that by the time everyone else had half finished their meals, Anon had completely cleaned his plate!
	“Ya hungry there, bro?” Luna said gruffly, washing a hunk of beef down with ginger ale. Anon looked up from his plate to see a row of astonished faces, their own meals having yet to be polished off. “Oh,” Anon murmured, his face lightly displaying pink, “didn’t realize I finished, it was so good.”
	Glad you like it,” Rita said appreciatively.

	Soon enough, everyone had finished their meals, each one leaving the table with varying degrees of satisfaction. Lincoln felt tired after his fill, but he wanted to talk more to Anon about comic books he’s read. But by the time he’d left the dining room, Anon was standing in the doorway wishing everyone well--rather hastily, one could say. He didn’t go unnoticed, though; “Hey Linc, It was good seeing you again,” Anon said with a smile.
	“Good to see you too! Hey, when will you be around again?”
	Anon shrugged, “Whenever I’m needed!”
	“That might be soon, hon,” Rita said, “there’s still half a shed waiting to be stained!”
	“Sure, sure, I can be around. See you all then.” With that, anon turned and strode off the front stoop and half-walked, half-jogged down the street. Rita closed the door behind her, and with a sudden vigor, she pumped a fist in the air. “YES!” she announced triumphantly, “The potato salad was a hit!”
	“It always is, dear,” Lynn Sr said with a laugh, “That’s why he went after it so fast.”
	For whatever reason, Lincoln felt that the taste wasn’t the real reason why Anon took his meal down swiftly. He turned to go upstairs to his room when he noticed Lisa bounding up the stairs with a large, misshapen object under her arm. “What’cha  got there, a new test subject?”
	Lisa turned to face her brother at the head of the stairwell. “Just following a hunch,” she lisped out.
	It was then that Lincoln noticed that the object she was holding was caught in the light of the upstairs hallway; he could see clearly now that it was a familiar object.

	Anon had just hopped the fence in Royal Woods Park and upon landing did he suddenly realize: “My bag!”
	He thudded his fist down on the picket fence that served as the boundary separating the park from the woods, cursing under his breath. “My bag... I left my damn bag,” he lamented to himself. He sighed and he sank to the ground, his back against the fence.
---
	8:15 PM. The Louds performed each of their usual evening rituals, eventually coming together for lounging around in the living room in their pajamas. Lincoln started down the stairwell, having just finished a radio call with Clyde over the street dates for the latest issue of Ace Savvy. Before he could reach the bottom, he was quickly brushed aside by Lisa, who ambled off the stairs and into the living room with the others, the bag tucked under her little arm. Sighing, Lincoln followed her, where he found her standing in front of the others behind the coffee table.
    “Lisa, seriously,” Lincoln said, “we should really give that back to him.”
    “In time, Lincoln, in time.” Lisa replied simply.
    “What’d you need it for anyhow?”
    “Probably just swiping for DNA or whatever--she does that for everyone.” Lori said as she filed her nails.
    “Not quite this time,” Lisa lisped. “for as long as Mr. Anon has known us, he’s displayed behavior that is unlike anyone in the town that I have on record. Since he’s come along, I’ve compiled his own file, and...” she paused, “it’s not looking so good.”
    The others looked at each other. Lisa was right about the strange behavior, but that it was considered a special case both puzzled and concerned them.
    “First, let’s review the facts. All of you have noticed his body language, yes?”  The others pondered this for a moment. “Think: how does he move?”
    “Stiff and sauntering,” Lucy said finally. “Stiff, as would be a corpse, sauntering as if mesmerized. He would make for a perfect zombie minion,” she trailed off.
“Exactly! ...kind of,” Lisa said, "Especially around the house, like during this evening. He milled about the house, looking at it as if longing--and is almost gobsmacked when he’s invited inside.” The others nodded in agreement. Lincoln sat at the foot of the couch, listening intently.
	"Additionally," Lisa continued, "he seems to work almost completely without complaint, and often very quickly; almost as if he was looking forward to working... unlike most of us.”  Everyone rolled their eyes.
	"I feel I need not say much, if anything at all, of his appearance," Lisa said, to which Leni replied "Oh yeah--he's dirty, ripped up--"
	"Tired," Lana cut in. "he looks crazy worn out." Lisa nodded at both observations.
	"Now then, onto the physical evidence." Lisa said, hoisting Anon's rugged bag onto the coffee table, She unzipped the bag and produced several objects which, on first glance were little more than bits of junk. But to Lisa, nothing is explained fully at first glance.
    “The contents of Mr. Anon’s bag show us a habit that is generally considered to be unhealthy, if not a little slovenly.” She then held up one of three square, severely dented cans. “This empty can of CRAM has an alarmingly high cholesterol rate, but is low sodium.
    “Favorite snack?” Lola suggested.
    “Eww,” Lynn uttered, “How can anyone find diabetes-in-a can tasty enough to eat it regularly? Just thinking about it makes me want to chug a gallon of protein shakes just in case!”
    “Simple,” Lisa continued, "It’s cheap and easily accessible. These three cans alone are 50¢ each at Flip’s. And because of this, it makes it a popular choice for outdoor ration kits; and look here at these other items.” Among these were two pairs of spent C-cell batteries, a toothbrush that had been worn down to the very last bristle, an empty butane lighter, some nylon twine, and a shard from a broken mirror.
"Obviously not one's everyday school supplies," Lisa noted. It then occurred to the others: they had never seen Anon at any of their schools in the years the Louds lived in Royal Woods.
	"All of these things," Lisa lisped, "can be purchased for a few meager dollars; EXACTLY what he takes from Mother and Father."
	Lincoln looked over to see Lana on the couch, a look of worry in her eyes. She didn't like where this was going.
	"Combining his rather quiet though otherwise decent demeanor with the state of his appearance, his tireless toil at work, his general hesitancy, and the evidence laid out before us, I think it is likely that Mr. Anon is homeless." Lisa concluded. The others began to object to this notion when another realization hit them: in all the times he's been there, he's never once gave any indication that he had a home, or even a family.

	"Homeless," Lincoln murmured. A cold chill swept over the Loud children.

	"Wow," Luan said quietly, "I guess it's all outta the bag, now." At this, the other ten children turned and glowered down at their sister.
---
	"He's seen him go in sometimes, but he doesn't know anything," Lincoln said, discarding his slushie cup in a nearby bin. He sidled up next to Clyde, who was still wiping the syrupy cherry-flavor slushie mix off his mouth with a napkin.
	"That's weird, man. Flip knows everyone!"
	"Right," Lincoln said with a sigh.
	The two were walking down the main stretch of the town. It was a bright, warm day, so why not spend it outside? Eventually they worked their way over to the park, where they found a frisbee that someone had left behind. Neither of them were particularly good at delivering a steady throw, but they were worse at catching, but what the heck, they figured. As the two boys began tossing the disc to and fro, occasionally hitting the ground straight from launch, Clyde reminded Lincoln that they should get to the comic shop while it's still open.
	"We've got time," Lincoln said, "I'm sure they'll do what they did last time and hold a couple aside for us."
	"You think they're still doing that? "Clyde said, picking up the frisbee and launching it lopsided to Lincoln, "I mean, everyone's doing the same thing now."
	"I'm sure they are," Lincoln replied, eyeballing the trajectory of the frisbee, "they've got a real nice crew working there, they--oops!" Lincoln delivered a really good through for once. It sailed smoothly through the air, right over Clyde's head, and clean over the fence behind them.
	"Nice throw," Clyde complained. "You go get it."
	"Wha--no!" Lincoln said, "That's out of bounds over there!"
	"Just run in quickly, Linc."
	"You were supposed to catch it, you do it!"
	"I'm not risking splinters, you go get--"

*FWISHH*

	The frisbee reappeared, flying at almost mach-1 speeds right back over the fence, and sailed over Clyde's head just barely close enough to give him a new haircut. "Yow!" He exclaimed, ducking down. The frisbee plonked on the ground at Lincoln's feet.
	"Hey, who did that?" Clyde said, standing and brushing himself off.
	"I dunno..." Lincoln trailed off again; then a thought came to him. He looked over at Clyde as if to say 'You think...?'
	Clyde picked up on this immediately, and the two boys scrambled back to Lincoln's house.
---

	"Simple: just help us look around, and if we hear someone call out, we bolt. Okay?"
	"Yeah, yeah. So long as you help me back up when we're done," Lana said. She, Lincoln and Clyde had returned to the fence line; he was standing on Lincoln's shoulders and was ready to hop over tho the other side of the fence.
	"We'll work our way over with you," Lincoln said, straining under his younger sister's weight.
	"Alright. Here I go." Lana kicked off and wing herself over, landing on the ground with a dull thump. "I'm over."
	Lincoln hoisted himself up, hooking his leg across the top of the fence as he made his own way over. "Clyde, come on!" Clyde stood, shaking nervously.
	"But Linc--"
	"Just hurry!" Lincoln shouted as the jumped down on the other side. With a sigh, Clyde sauntered over to the fence, ascending it in the same manner that Lincoln did; however, he wasn't the most graceful person in the world, for when he hauled himself over the edge, his shoelace snagged on a loose nail, making him undershoot his jump and fall directly onto Lincoln. The two boys laid there in a heap.
	"Um, ow!" Lincoln groaned.
	"...sorry."
	"Shh, quiet!" Lana said, I hear something down there!"
	The ground beyond began to slope a few yards away from the fence line as the trio made their way down, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. To everyone, it sounded like faint radio static cutting through the otherwise quiet woods. Lana and Lincoln pressed forward, but Clyde lagged behind them nervously.
	"Guys, we should move fast," he whispered hoarsely, "the property owners've probably got a real bug up their butts about people going back here, and what if they tell--"
	"There." Lana pointed off a little to their left.
	Behind a small patch of foliage was a dark brown plastic tarpaulin, laid out almost flush with the ground--almost, because it was raised at its center; an indication that maybe this tarp was covering a pit of sorts. It was pegged in place by four thin stakes, and were reinforced by fairly large stones to hold them down. On one side, there was a cut, like someone had made a vertical incision with a blade. Poking out of this gash was a thin metallic rod, unmistakably an antenna. The sound of radio static was stronger now, and occasionally music from an alt-rock station would bleed through.
	Something about this was quite eerie to the three of them. They stood listening to the sound of the static mixed with the breeze rustling the leaves above.

	"So, now what?" Lana asked.
	"I dunno, throw a pebble?" Lincoln suggested.
	"Throw a pebb--what'll that do?
	"Guys, keep it down!" Clyde tittered nervously.
	*snerff* "Euooogh... h-hey," a sleepy voice called out, making the trio jump out of their skin, "If you want me to move someplace else, I can..." There was a moment of silence. "Hello?" the voice called again, clearer this time.
	Suddenly. Lana made a beeline for the tarp before either Lincoln or Clyde could stop her, and she dove straight into the gash in the tarp.

	"AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"

		A terrified scream erupted from the pit's occupant who, after a brief session of clattering about within, bounded out of the tarp flaps into the scrub, As Lincoln looked on, he noticed that this person, clad in gray sweatpants and a dark tank top, had long darkish hair that nearly covered his eyes. He turned to look in his and Clyde's direction.
	"HEY! WHO..." He stopped, realizing. "Lincoln...?"
	"Hey, Anon." Lincoln replied softly.
	Anon stood there silently, his head cast downward. Just then, Lana leapt out of the pit, now covered in fresh dirt stains and panting wildly.
	"...hey Lana," Anon murmured.
	Lana's panting eased, now replaced with small whimpers. She went and buried her face into Anon's right leg. Shoulders heaving, Anon knelt down to give Lana a proper hug; she clutched him tightly.
	Lincoln sighed. "Lisa was right," he said to Clyde.
---
	There was an unbroken, awkward silence as the Loud children waited for their parents to come into the living room. They were gathered around the coffee table, behind which sat Anon. He said nothing, only staring into his lap. Lincoln and Lana had brought him in ten minutes earlier, which for them turned out to be easier than they thought. Clyde had split off to his house along the way, making a note to himself not to tell his parents that he'd done more than his share of trespassing that day.
	Lynn Sr. and Rita Loud entered the living room finally, each taking a seat on either side of Anon. He was still silent.
	"We heard of your situation, Anon," Lynn said, "how come you didn't tell us anything earlier?"
	Anon wordlessly shrugged one shoulder.
	"What's been happening, sweetie?" Rita then said, putting a tentative hand on Anon's shoulder, "You can tell us."
	For a moment, Anon was still quiet. Then he came out with, "Then you'd be the first ones I've really said anything about it to."
	"Go on," Rita said, "how'd it come to this for you?" Everyone sat in anticipation.

	Anon breathed a sigh.
	"I left home because I didn't want to continue existing only to my mom," he said, "She's, ehm... not the most remarkable human being in this world. She dropped dad when for whatever reason she'd had enough of him, and he left. Two years after that, liquor apparently did his liver in. S'pose that was the only thing she didn't kill off in him. I didn't want to turn out like that, so I left the day before I turned fifteen."
	The children stared at him, aghast. "How old are you now?" Lola quietly ventured.
	"What day is it?"
	"Tuesday, 24 July," Lisa answered. After a bit of thought, Anon finally said, "I'll be seventeen near the start of next month.
	"So..." Lincoln said, "You've been out there for a year?"
	"Year and a quarter," Anon replied. "It wasn't fun trying to find a place to sleep when I wasn't bushwhacking or hitching rides on utility trailers--maybe even catching a bus if I was particularly rich on some days. I set up little bivouacs a little ways from other folks' campsites, only sometimes getting close because they were usually willing to share food. Some weren't so generous-- like, this one old dude with a gnarly scar down his face told me if I ever went near his tent or his pregnant girlfriend, he'd mash me into the ground as food for the turkeys.
	"And the towns and cities I've been? Man, out of all of them, Royal Woods has been the most pleasant; I decided to stay longer than I would in any other place."
	"How long have you been here?" Lori asked.
	"Almost three months."
	"I haven't seen you around during that time."
	"I don't make much of an appearance," Anon said, grinning slightly, "Leni over there can probably understand why." He held out his arms, the sleeves of his long waffle-knit shirt frayed and threadbare. Leni blushed slightly.

	Rita then decided to ask the burning question from the whole family: "When you do work with us," she said, "how come you only take less than what we give?"
	"Car payments, lot rent, electricity, water," Anon replied. When Rita looked confused, Anon motioned over those seated before him. "...and eleven mouths to feed. You've got priorities, Ms. Loud. I, even though I just need a can of ravioli at the end of the day, am no beggar."
	"Oh Anon, don't be like that."
	"Kinda been my policy for everyone else I did stuff for. At least, only for those who offered money."
	"Do you wish you had a home? Like, a real one?" Luna grunted.
	"Totally," Anon said, "but I have absolutely NO intentions of going back where I came from, because that..." He stopped, his head sinking back down. After a moment he continued, his voice faltering a little, "...that wasn't a home. It should've been."
	Rita looked over to her husband, who gave a nod. "Well, I'll tell you right now," She said, "you've got one now." Anon looked up at Rita incredulously, knowing what she meant.
	"I... err--I, no..."
	"Don't fight it," Rita said, tightening her grip on Anon's shoulder, "you're not going to spend another night in tarps."
	Anon didn't know what to do. He sat as if rooted to the couch, staring agape at Rita and Lynn. The children, on the other hand, approved of their mother's idea with clamoring vigor, then proceeding to charge onto the couch and encase Anon in a crushing group hug; the kind only a family could give.
---
	Nightfall; a dinner was had, a stack of comic books was read. With no spare bedrooms in the house and the suggestion of the basement out of the question, a cot was set up in a free corner of the attic for Anon. He laid there in the fading light, thinking how on one hand there wasn't any complaining about having a real roof over his head, and on the other, what was it he did to get it. Was it only because the Louds liked to have him around, or have they done this sort of thing before? He had a feeling that this situation was finite, though an indication as to when he would need or have to reside elsewhere wasn't given. The ambient light had almost completely faded along with Anon's consciousness as he began to nod off to sleep.
	"Comfy?" a voice rasped out of the darkness.
	Anon jumped in fright, almost launching himself off his cot. He sighed as he gathered his bearings.
	"Please don't do that, Lucy," he said wearily.
	"Sorry."
	"S' alright. And yeah, I'm pretty comfy up here."
	"That's good," Lucy said, her deadpan tone unwavering, "just wanted to be sure."
	A droll little grin crossed her face before she melted back into the darkness. Anon sat there, bewildered if not a little confused at this exchange. He gave it no further thought, however, for he drifted back into his previous sleepy daze.

	He was awoken again some time later by the feeling of something prodding his stomach. He sat up and switched on the old lamp next to him. Squinting in the light, he saw Lana, still wearing her red ball cap but now wearing a long nightshirt.
	"You guys must have a way of getting around quietly and quickly, Anon said with a grin.
	"Naw, just the vents," Lana said quietly.
	"Well," Anon said, "what's up?"
	Lana looked down at her little feet, shuffling a little where she stood. "I'm glad you're not out there anymore."
	"Yeah? Whyssat?"
	"No one should have to live like that. I mean, I get why you did, but still."
	"Yeah," Anon sighed, "it's rough."
	"Mmm," Lana acknowledged, "but I'm glad you're here now. All of us are."
	"I'm... I'm glad to hear that, bud," Anon said, reaching over and giving Lana a ruffle under her hat. "I'm happy to be here with you guys too."
	Giggling from the further mussing of her hair, Lana clambered up into the cot and snuggled up against Anon's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and they sat like this for a little while before she too had to return to her own bed, and he needed to sleep.
---
	"Still asleep, eh?" Lynn Sr. asked, astonished. The Loud family were all still in their pajamas as they settled for breakfast, and Anon had missed the initial call at 8:00 to join them; it was now almost ten to 9:00
	"A'yuh," Luna sighed, her electric guitar slung over her shoulder, "even Lola's screechin' didn't raise the dead."
	Leni gasped. "He--HE'S DEAD?!"
	"Lucky." Lucy uttered.
	"No, Leni, he's not--" Lincoln began, but his sister was already madly sobbing. "I-*sniffle*-I didn't even get to pick out a new outfit for him..." she burbled.
	As this was going on, Anon shuffled into view and took his seat at the table. "Mornin', all," he muttered in his freshly-awoken daze. Immediately Leni stopped crying and stared at Anon rigidly, her expression morphing into that of extreme fear.
	"G...guh...guh...!" she spluttered, "G... GHOST!" With that, she leapt from her chair and ran out of the dining room, screaming as if the Devil himself were after her. Anon looked inquiringly over to Lori next to him.
	"She thinks you died in your sleep," she said, picking at her eggs with her fork.
	"I mean, I could've," Anon laughed, "that was the best sleep I've had in ages!"
	"Well!" Rita said with a bright smile, "glad to hear our accommodations were satisfactory!"
	"Sure beats a sleeping bag in a pit, I gotta say," Anon said between mouthfuls of sausage patty, "way less spiders." A collective 'eugh' erupted from the Louds, except for Lana, who asked "What species were they?"

	Sometime later, Anon and lana took to their paint rollers and set about finishing the shed; an easy task given that it had already been half completed.
	"Will you do the honors?" Lana said, standing proudly in the grass with paint roller in hand. Anon doused his own in the bucket of wood stain. Clearing his throat, he announced:
	"By the powers vested in me, on behalf of Nick's Paint and Stain co., I now declare this shed--" He rolled over the last exposed slat of the shed with his roller, "--complete!"
	Lana applauded, Anon did a mock curtsy. "Well, there's that done," Anon remarked as he and Lana went placed the painting supplies in the garage. "What else?"
	"I think that should just about do 'er," Lana said.
	"A'right, I guess I'll head back to my tent and call it a day!" Anon joked. Lana glared at him.
	"Yer not goin' anywhere, ya big clod," she said, giving him a tight hug around his waist.
	"Awwwwwww," a group of voices droned. Anon looked, and saw the other members of the family standing at the back door, all with smiles in their faces.
---
Royal Woods Mall was typically pretty sparse during the weekdays, but even those few that were there shopping about was enough to make Anon timid. He was brought there by Leni, who wanted badly to refit him with a new wardrobe; Anon respectfully declined initially, but Leni wouldn't hear it; their exchange went more or less like:
	"Anon, you're going. That's it."
	"I appreciate it, but really, you--"
	"Yes, I do have to."
	So, there he was. Sat on the bench of a changing room, knowing that Leni, Lori, and Lincoln were out there waiting to see. Meek though he was, he admitted to himself that these slacks looked and felt real nice...
	"C'mon, Anon! Let's see!"
	Anon pushed the door open a crack, and crept out. Even though this new outfit, comprising of a white ringer tee with a denim overshirt, brown corduroy slacks and tan Chucks, was pretty simple, it drew a very positive reaction from the three Louds present; Leni squealed with delight Lori nodded her approval, Lincoln thrust two thumbs up in the air.

	The ride home in Vanzilla was, aside from the odd tittering from the girls, quiet. Anon sat next to a window, watching the world go by. Inside him was a strange feeling; one he knew he’d felt before, but it’s been so long that it felt brand new, much like the clothes he now donned. Sure, he was grateful and was told not to worry, he still couldn’t shake the feeling of--
	“We’re home!”
	“Oooh! Ahhh!”
	A warm reception from the rest of the family as the party walked in, Anon still shuffling behind them. Drifting past the enamored Louds, he gravitated up the stairs and into the attic where he sat down on his cot. He sighed
	This feeling was biting hard now, and it wasn’t pleasant; it seemed like it was somewhere between gratitude and guilt. What was this, Anon wondered, and why was he feeling like this?
	“Y’aright?” Lincoln poked his head through the doorway of the attic.
	Anon tried to cover it. “Ye... ehh, no,” he admitted. Once again he sank his head down.
	“Aw, how come?”
	“It--it just feels so weird still.”
	Lincoln sat on the cot next to him. “Whyssat?”
	“Well,” Anon said, turning to look at his younger companion, “when you’ve been out there for as long as I have, or anyone else like me--no roof, no family, no fallback--you forget what’s all that’s like. What happened in the past couple days was like a new experience. I mean, I’m not being ungrateful and saying I wanna go back out there, but somehow this doesn’t feel right--like I’m leeching, y’know?”

	Before Lincoln could tell his friend otherwise, the crowd that accumulated over in the doorway all said a variation of “You aren’t leeching.”
	“According to my field study of your previous ‘dwelling’,” Lisa lisped, “living conditions were detrimental to your overall health and would eventually hit your psyche as well. As a family friend, we couldn’t allow that to continue.”
	“Ya had nothin’, dude. We’d totally pass some of th’ love,” Luna said with a grin.
	“The bitter nights and the gloomier days of any season should not be spent in a pit... though I personally would find that ideal for me.” Lucy murmured.
	“Plus, you look totes dapper in that outfit,” Leni remarked, still proud of her handiwork.
	"Just try not to break any more gutters, eh?" Lynn Sr. added.
	“You don’t need to worry,” Rita said, rocking the tiny bundle that was Lily in her arms, “we can and will support you through this.”

	Brushing off a tear or two, Anon swept his hair away, his vision now unhindered and his eyes no longer sunken.
	“So,” he said, looking over the Louds, and then to Lana with a big smile, “THAT’S a family, huh bud?”
	“A’yuh,” she replied, “That it is.”
	“Then I don’t think I could've found one better," Anon declared. He rose, motioning Lincoln to stand with him. “Heya, what’re the hours for the comic shop?”
	“Oh! Uhm, 11 to 8 on weekdays.”
	“We got time. Let’s raid the back issues.”
	Lincoln grinned. “You’re on!”
---
	END