Playmates Part 1

The tiny, Canadian boy looked down in absolute misery at the meal that had been placed before him.  It looked like someone had tried to cook vomit.  It smelled worse.  And to think that the boy had actually been excited about the meal.  What child wouldn't be happy about being told he was going to have pudding for dinner?  However, what now sat on his tray was not the delicious dessert the boy had imagined.  Oh, it was pudding, alright.  Kidney pudding.  The boy now recalled all the other so-called meals that his new guardian had made for him.  He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

The boy lifted up his stuffed bear and held it in front of his mouth and nose to block the scent of "dinner."  As he did so, he could hear smacking coming from his side.  He looked over to see his new brother, a boy his age, happily devouring the organs.  The boy with the bear was shocked.  Did his sibling actually like that stuff?  The other boy was unaware of the Canadian's bewilderment as he picked up the messy chunks and popped them in his mouth.  The first boy turned away in disgust.  He couldn't believe it.  He was actually touching it—with his HANDS!

The boy closed his eyes and tried to ignore sickening sounds coming from the other side of him.  How he missed the days when he had been fed real food!  He pushed his bear closer to his face and breathed deeply through it.  The smell from the bear gave him comfort.  Roses.  It helped him to imagine happier times.   

His day dreams were interrupted by the voice of his latest guardian reprimanding the other boy for not eating with a spoon.  The reminiscing boy allowed himself to come back to reality and observe the scene.  He watched, quietly as the tall man got up from his seat and walked over to the other boy's high chair.  The boy with the bear was starting to realize that the man gave the other boy slightly different treatment from his own.  The man scolded the messy boy, but more gently than the times when he had scolded the Canadian.  He lovingly cleaned off the boy's hands and then armed one of them with the neglected spoon before patting him on the head.  The quiet boy raised his eyebrows.  The man's new behavior was baffling.  The boy had never seen the man act like that before.  

The man was called England.  The boys were new additions to the British Empire.  The boy with the bear was, of course, Canada.  The other boy was…America…if the Canadian child remembered correctly.  He had only met the boy less than a few hours before, but the meeting was nothing but a blur.  Canada still did not know what to think of America.  However, he did know how he felt about England.

Canada did not like England.

Not at all.   

Canada was actually a bit afraid of England.  England was the one who had hurt Canada's big brother, France.  England was the reason that Canada could no longer see his beloved brother, or even refer to him as such.  According to England, he was Canada's big brother now.  Canada did not want England as his brother, but the small boy didn't have any choice.  After years of war, England had finally won Canada from France.  Even France, himself, had remorsefully told Canada there was nothing they could do about it.  So Canada had sadly accepted his fate as a possession of England's.  Even if Canada could muster up enough nerve to try and fight it, what could a weak colony like him do against a great and powerful nation like England?                     

Canada had learned quickly that England was very different from his previous big brother.  France had been carefree and affectionate.  England was stern and intimidating.  The hardened nation had a "no nonsense" attitude, and he almost always seemed to have a cross look on his face.  England's ever-present scowl frightened the tiny, sensitive boy.  Canada did not like being around England.  He was always afraid that he would accidentally do or say something that would upset his new caretaker.  Luckily, avoiding England had turned out to be pretty easy.            

Back when England had first arrived in Canada, he had been very busy setting up control in the area and dealing with other political matters.  Any small amount of time that England had spent with Canada was mostly devoted to teaching the boy English.  Other than that, the man did not seem to have much interest the boy-colony—which Canada did not mind one bit!  He was used to being alone, by now.  Even France had been paying little attention to him in recent years.  Besides, England was the last person with whom Canada wanted to spend time.  

Still, despite the large amount of time that Canada had enjoyed free from England's company, the boy's new life was far from easy.  He and England had gotten off to a rough start.  For one thing, the natives were not exactly happy about the new management.  Soon after England had taken control of Canada and other lands, a few tribes started an uprising against British rule.  England had been forced to deal with the rebellions, and had unfortunately taken out his anger for it all on Canada.  England had suspected Canada's French residents of encouraging the Indians to revolt.  Canada had tearfully assured England that he had not had anything to do with the unrest.  Nevertheless, England had forbidden Canada from speaking with his Indian friends after that.  

Canada did not understand why England did not like his Indians.  France had never had much of a problem with them.  The Indians had especially liked France because he had given them gifts and had traded with them.  Many of France's people had also inter-married with the Indians and had lived peacefully with them.  Canada, himself, had lived with the Indians long before even France had arrived.  The Indians were like a family to Canada.  Now all of a sudden, England comes along and starts talking about the Indians as if they were barely human!  Canada had not understood, but he had done as England had commanded without questioning him.      

England's issue with the Indians was not the only thing that Canada had trouble understanding.  England had problems with Canada's Roman Catholic faith, as well.  Fortunately, Canada had been allowed to keep his religion, but England still expressed a strong disapproval of it.  Canada had not understood, but all the same, every single time his new guardian would criticize his beliefs, Canada would only listen quietly and respectfully.

It was the same situation with Canada's language.  England had also allowed Canada to retain his French speech, yet he demanded that Canada learn English and only speak to him in that language.  Canada had caught on to the new language surprisingly easy, but it was hard for the boy to listen to England constantly ridicule his home language, along with the beloved brother who had taught it to him.  

England had said during all this time that Canada should consider himself fortunate that he was being permitted to retain so much, but the boy did not feel very privileged at all.  Yes, England may have claimed that he would let Canada keep his language and religion, but Canada felt as if his guardian was trying to undermine both at every opportunity.  He was beginning to think that he would never be able to please England.    

From the very day that England had taken control of Canada, the little boy had been trying hard to obey him.  He had been following all the rules like a good little British colony, but getting used to his new life was so difficult!  Canada was a boy who liked to take things slow.  It took him time to adjust to change, and his new situation was a pretty big change that seemed to have happened all at once.  The more time Canada spent as English territory, the more he desperately missed France.  No one could ever replace Canada's original big brother—especially not England.  But France had made Canada promise that he would be good for his new brother.  Canada would keep that promise.  He would be good.  He would obey England as his sovereign to the best of his ability, but he was positive that he would never think of him as a brother.  Who would ever want to be related to a cruel person like England?    

At least, Canada thought of England as cruel, today he had been witnessing a new side of England.  Ever since that morning, his new guardian had been acting unusual.  The man had had woken Canada early and had prepared him for a short trip.  During all the arrangements, England had appeared to be in the closest thing to a good mood that Canada had ever seen him in.  The strict nation had actually smiled…and he had even hummed a cheerful tune a few times.  Canada had not known what to make of England's sudden change in character.  He had been almost more afraid of the new England than he had been of the old.  

While on their journey, England had finally informed the curious Canada of their destination.  He had told the little boy that he was taking him to meet his brother, America.  This had been the first time that Canada had learned of his twin.  America was another territory that England had won the rights to in his war with France.  Well, actually England had already owned several colonies in America before, and France had owned a vast amount of land in the American west, but both countries had only discovered the human form of America living in the wild fairly recently.  Since their discovery, the rival countries had argued constantly over who little America belonged to.  With his recent victory over France that had doomed Canada to his new life, England had also won that long argument over America once and for all.  When England had increased his territory in America, the boy-America had come to live with England as his official little brother.  Apparently, England had been taking care of America while Canada and France had been awaiting their separation.    

At first, Canada had been excited about meeting a brother his own age.  He had been so lonely ever since France had left.  It had been comforting to learn that there was another child in the same situation as him.  Maybe they could be friends and support each other while under England's rule.

However, when Canada and England had arrived in America's land, things had not gone exactly as Canada had imagined.  England had called out for America when he and Canada had neared America's house.  Shortly after, the door to the house had opened and a small boy's head had poked out.  Canada had been stunned when America had emerged for the first time.  Just imagine how shocked you would be if you saw…well…yourself.  That was what it had been like for Canada.  Except for his hair length and the shade of his eyes, America looked identical to Canada.  

Canada had not been given time to recover from his initial shock.  As soon as America had noticed Canada, the hyper child had rushed out to him.  America had then run circles around Canada.  He had moved so fast in his surveying, that Canada's eyes had barely been able to follow him.  Canada had nervously tried to introduce himself to America, but anything he had stuttered out had been drowned out by the other boy's surprised exclamations: "Y-y-your face!  You have my face!  It's just wike mine!"

Then, just as quickly as the whirlwind had come, it had left.  America had become bored, quickly with Canada.  After seemingly deciding that his doppelganger was no longer interesting, America had turned his attention to England and had frankly informed the older nation that he was hungry.  England had simply smiled and had then led America back into the house with promises to cook dinner soon.  The pair had left a very flustered Canada behind to wonder what had just happened.

And that was basically how the rest of the evening had played out.  Canada had followed England and America into the house, but the two were having such a good time together, that they had both seemed to have forgotten about the poor Canadian.  America had wanted to help England cook.  England had seemed more than happy to have America by his side as he worked.  Canada had felt so out of place as he had watched England preparing the meal while America chatted with him about all of the adventures he had had while the older nation had been away.  Not knowing what else to do, Canada had quietly wandered into another room and had napped until dinner was ready.               

Now, Canada was being forced to watch England shower America with more affection and attention.  Canada sighed as he watched his dining entertainment.  His confusion over England's behavior was starting to be replaced by a depressing feeling of being left out.  Canada's dreams of having a like-hearted brother to play with were broken.  America appeared to love England, and he seemed to have no motivation to acknowledge Canada.  Then it got worse.  Seeing England with America suddenly began to remind Canada of the fun times that he had spent with France.  Canada's heart began to hurt.  He did not know how much more of this torture he could take.  The sad boy hung his head, but then almost gagged when he was reminded of what was still on his plate.  Canada lifted his head back up and made himself address England.    

"Um, um, excuse me?" Canada softly spoke up.  One thing the boy did know was that if he ate one more bite of England's cooking he might just die of food poisoning.  He decided to risk angering England for the sake of his poor stomach.  "M-Mister England?  M-may I be excused, please?"

England turned his attention away from America once he noticed that Canada was speaking to him.  The man's eyes did a quick inspection of Canada's plate before he spoke back.    

"You haven't touched your food," England pointed out with a frown.

Canada looked downwards.   

"I am not hungry," he whispered, hoping that that would be good enough to excuse him from the disgusting meal and get him away from the unbearable atmosphere.  He was pretty sure that it wouldn't be, though.  He was expecting England to scold him and say something like he should eat the food because it was good for him, and that he would be ungrateful if he let it go to waste.  

Ordinarily, England probably would have done something like that.  Maybe it was because England was in a good mood, but he finally seemed to realize that something was bothering Canada.  Canada heard England rise from his seat and approach him.  For a moment, Canada was worried that England might try to feed him.  Instead, Canada felt England place a large hand on his fore-head.     

"Are you well?" England asked as he checked the boy's temperature.

"I…I…" Canada was too surprised by the concern in England's voice to say anything, at first.   

"Engwand!" America's voice interrupted.  "Watch what I can do!"

England turned to look, and Canada raised his head out of slight curiosity.  America was tossing pieces of his food up in the air and trying to catch them with his mouth.  Most of his impressive launches were missing their target.  England paled when he saw the mess that America was making.   

"America!" he exclaimed before briefly turning back to Canada.  "Oh, very well!  Just try to stay out of the way," he said as he lifted Canada out of his high chair and placed him on the floor.  He seemed to have decided that it would be easier to just give into Canada's wish for the moment.  "If you change your mind about dinner, let me know."  With that last instruction, England rushed over to America.

Canada had been moved from his seat to the ground so fast, that he needed a moment to steady himself.  Once he had his balance back, he took one last look at America and England.  England had stopped America's antics by now, and was cleaning the boy's misfired gut-chunks from the floor.  He was lecturing America on manners as he worked.  America was laughing and bragging about how the trick had worked great the first time.  Soon, even England was chuckling at the situation.  

Canada felt heart-sick again.  With a sigh, he wrapped both arms around his toy bear and slowly walked away.  Canada didn't notice it, but America had caught sight of him as he left.    

"Hey!  Me too!  Get me down too!"
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Canada was wondering what he should do as he moped into the next room.  He could always play, quietly by himself.  He would probably end up just going back to sleep.  He felt too depressed to do anything else.  

"Hey you!  Wait!" Canada heard America's voice.  It was quickly followed by the sound of America's feet as he ran towards Canada.  Canada didn't bother to answer.  He didn't feel like talking to anyone.

"Hey!" America called out again.  "Other me!  Wait up!"

Canada stopped in his tracks.  He turned and faced America just as the boy had caught up with him.

"I am not 'another you!'  I am me!" Canada claimed in a strong whisper.

"I know," America said with a lighthearted grin.  (Canada noticed here that America's previously messy face and hands were now clean.  England had no doubt wiped them off before turning the boy loose.)  "So what's your name again?" America asked with a curious expression.

Canada hugged his bear.

"It is Canada," he mumbled.

"Okay!" America gave a friendly smile and pointed at the stuffed animal in Canada's arms.  "I wike your bear," he said.

"Th-Thank you," Canada said politely.  He was starting to feel a little shy.  America moved closer to Canada.    

"Can I see 'em?" America gestured to the bear again.

Canada looked at his bear.  He looked at the expectant America.  And then he looked back at his bear again.  He shifted back and forth as he thought about the request.  Canada felt conflicted.  He wanted to be nice, but he did not feel comfortable giving up his special bear—even for a minute.

"I-I do not think so," Canada finally decided.  But America was not satisfied with the decision.  He took a step closer to Canada.

"Pwease?" America tried using the "magic word," as England called it.

Canada took a step back.

"I…do not want to."  

"Just for a widdle bit?" America persisted.  "I'll be weal careful."  As he spoke, America reached out and tried to touch Canada's bear.  

Canada jerked it away.

"No.  P-Please stop it," Canada pleaded.

"But I just wanna hold 'em for a minute!" America reasoned.  "Ya can't hog 'em all ta yourself!"

Canada felt that he had every right to "hog" the bear, seeing as how it belonged to him!  Canada planted himself on the floor and clutched his bear, stubbornly.  America stomped his foot.

"You'd better wet me have 'em, or else," he warned.

Canada looked up.

"Or else?" he asked in confusion.  Was America…threatening him?  

"ENGWAND!" America suddenly shouted.  "Canada won't share!"

"Eh?" Canada squeaked in shock.  Now he knew he was in for it!  Why did America have to involve England in this?!  England quickly came running into the room.

"What's all the fuss about?" he demanded.

"Canada won't wet me pway wif his bear!" America tattled.

England looked down at Canada, who was clutching his bear, protectively.  England frowned and crossed his arms at him.

"Canada," England sternly addressed the cowering boy.  "Let America have the bear."

"B-but…" Canada weakly protested.  "He is mine."

England's threatening gaze seemed to get worse.

"I said, let him have it," England repeated, firmly.  "If you cannot share with one another, then neither of you will have the privilege of playing with the bear.  Do I make myself clear?"

Canada cringed as he held onto his little friend.  He didn't want his favorite toy to be taken away!  Canada glanced over at the awaiting America.  Sadly, Canada handed his beloved bear over to the other boy.  America gladly took the bear and gave it a squeeze.  

"Good," England sounded satisfied.  "Now I expect you both to play nicely while I tidy up for a bit."

England walked away, leaving the boys to themselves.  America plopped down on the floor near Canada and began to examine the bear in his hands.  Canada watched carefully as America studied his bear.  

"I've nevuh seen an all-white bear before," he casually commented.

Canada gripped his long shirt.  With his bear gone, he felt like a part of him was missing.

"H-he is a polar bear," Canada informed.

"What's a polwar bear?" America asked as he began to toss the bear up in the air.

Canada watched, anxiously as America caught his fragile bear and continued to throw him up in the air over and over again.   

"It…it is a white bear that lives were it is very cold," Canada could not take his eyes off his bear as he spoke.  He pulled and fiddled with his shirt, restlessly.  He hoped America wouldn't hurt his poor toy.  How much longer did he have to let America play with it?

"Oh," America said simply.  He eventually stopped tossing the bear and gave it another tight hug.  "He's so soft!" he happily exclaimed as he nuzzled the plush toy.  "Where'd ya get 'em?"

Canada bowed his head.

"F-France gave him to me," he whispered.

"Fwance?"

Canada nodded.                      

"Engwand says dat Fwance is a silwy, puffed-up, fwog."

Canada stiffened.  

"He said dat I'm not s'posed ta talk to Fwance, 'cause he's a bad guy."

Even though America was talking about France, Canada felt some-what insulted.

"N-no.  H-he is not," Canada made a small attempt to defend France.

"Is too," America said with an "as-a-matter-of-fact" attitude.  "Engwand says dat if I evuh see Fwance, I should wun away as fast as I can, or Fwance might do somethin' bad ta me."  America then proceeded to share with Canada all of his superior knowledge about France, as if it was his duty to inform the new kid of the dangers of the wine-loving country.  

While America talked, Canada instinctively wanted to hug something, but America still had his bear.  Canada's security was gone.  The space in front of him, usually reserved for the thing that always gave him comfort, was now empty.  As America went on, Canada did not know what to do with himself.  He felt so awkward without his bear.  But soon, Canada could feel America's words getting to him.  The more America talked, the more Canada could feel his anger rising.  Canada gritted his teeth.  He could take insults like this from England, but he was not going to listen to the same garbage from another boy—especially one that looked just like him!  This kid didn't even know what he was talking about!  How dare he talk about his brother like that?!  

"And he's a dummy," America finished.

Canada took a deep breath.   

"He…is…NOT!" the boy suddenly heard himself burst out with more volume than he knew he had.  

America stopped playing with the bear and looked up at Canada, blankly.  Where had that come from?  Canada was glaring at America, but once America looked back at him in surprise, Canada's face switched to confusion as well.  He was even more surprised than America was that he had exploded like that.  

Canada began to stutter.  He figured he should apologize for his outburst, when all of a sudden, Canada felt something cool and wet sliding down his hot cheeks.  That was when Canada realized that he had been fighting back tears that whole time.  He felt his body shake as he tried to stop them, but it was no use.  Suddenly, he felt all of his frustrations over the recent changes in his life overwhelming him.  He had been suffering in silence for so long and he couldn't hold it all back anymore.  He covered his face cried, pitifully.