Chapter 11 – Nothing to hide…anymore
Another quiet ride home awaited Gumball and Darwin. But this afternoon would see the silence between the Watterson brothers broken for good.
Gumball sat by the window and kept his eyes trained outside. He made an effort not to move too much, as per the nurse's instructions. No one could see it, but underneath his sweater were countless layers of gauze securing his whole body and ensuring that every part of him healed at a decent pace. But with the way he moved from the school all the way to the bus—taking half-steps and stopping in between each one—it was odd that none of his classmates bothered to bring it up.
Except for Penny, of course, but she ws the one who led him to the nurse's office.
Darwin passed a glance at Gumball, aiming specifically at his pocket. The stone was slumbering now, but this wasn't about the stone. He searched for the cat's eyes, but they were swayed out of his sight.
"Gumball?" Darwin initiated, bringing his fin up towards his brother's face to console him, just to be rebuffed.
He chose to leave him to his own devices and looked the other way, but the sound of his ever familiar voice drew him back.
"How far in are the two of you?" Gumball said plainly, his voice sending a chill across his body.
"What?" an astonished Darwin asked, his eyes wide open.
"You and Jamie. How long? You made it to first base yet?"
Darwin could see where Gumball was coming from. He saw what his brother was planning. He was putting him on the spot. Once he had him where he wanted him, there was no escaping it. No point in denying it now that he had him figured out.
"No," said Darwin incredulously.
"So you're on second, right?" Gumball raised his voice a little higher.
"W-what?" Darwin flinched at the question, not anticipating Gumball of all people to ask him that. He pictured his mother saying that more than his own brother. "No! I don't know where you're even picking this up!"
"Then what is it? Third? Home run? What?!" Gumball's voice climbed until he was practically shouting.
Darwin was now literally at the edge of his seat, petrified by Gumball's anger. "Dude, what is your problem?" he retaliated, shouting at the top of his lungs. He wasn't going down without a fight.
"Oh ho ho ho ho, that's right. I forgot," Gumball exclaimed, flailing his arms like airplane wings to emphasize his point. His outburst was quickly drawing attention to the two of them, which he had intended. Earning him and Darwin the many staring eyes of his classmates. "I'm the bad guy here, right? Not you, oh no. Because as we all know, secrets are perfectly okay now. We can just forget about the bro-code that we agreed on and flush it down the toilet. You don't have to say anything, man. I understand perfectly."
Throughout the whole bus, the other students were murmuring to one another, speculating at what the two of them were bickering about.
Noticing that their argument had escalated to this level, Darwin ducked and kept himself out of his classmates' sight, but not without assuring them that nothing was going on between them. That this was nothing out of the ordinary.
The orange fish crawled into his seat and lowered his voice into a whisper. "Cut it out!" he demanded, shooting a furious glare at his brother. "Really, Gumball? You're one to talk."
"There you go again." Gumball was still shouting. "Aren't you just remarkab—"
If he wasn't going to cooperate, then Darwin had to force him. He clamped his brother's mouth with one of his fins. Gumball could do so much better. The least he could do was be a bit more mature. A bit more level-headed.
"Stop it," Darwin ordered, his whispering voice razor sharp and forcing Gumball to bite his tongue and compromise. "Don't act all high and mighty with me, Gumball. If you can keep a secret, then there's no reason why I can't."
"What do you mean by—" Gumball whispered. His question was met with an abrupt end as he followed where Darwin was staring. His sights were set on the pocket of his pants, focusing on what was inside of it. "You know about the Marvelite."
"Yes, I do."
"You're in cahoots with Anais. You told her to take the stone from me in my sleep. You sent her to do your dirty work for you."
"I only told her what I thought I knew," Darwin rebuked, keeping a straight face for as long as he could before faltering. "And she did what?"
Darwin couldn't believe it himself. When he had told her that they should have been discreet with their approach, this was not what he had in mind.
"Oh, drop the act. I mean it." Gumball scowled, a wound in his chest. "That's why you haven't been talking to me. Am I right, or am I wrong?"
Wavering on his reply, Darwin darted his eyes to the side, only for them to meet with his brother's once again. "Well, yeah. But that part about Anais stealing from you? That was all her. You have to believe me, Gumball. You've never done that to me, and I'd never do that to you. You know that."
Gumball averted his eyes to the window and engaged in a grueling staring contest with his own reflection. Try as he might, he was not able to banish his bitterness. His anger. He could not simply ignore anyone gawking at him, especially not Darwin.
"I don't know what to believe," said the blue cat, his sentence cutting through Darwin's thick, gelatinous blubber.
He also could not ignore when Remy was preparing to speak, which was happening at that moment. The glow that burned along his thigh was too hard to just let slide from his shoulders, not that he had much of a choice to begin with.
In his mental encumbrance, he heard that cheery, high-pitched voice for the umpteenth time. Pictures of the human boy with the rosy cheeks, the eternal smile, the buttoned shirt and shorts, and the Mary Janes blossomed in his head.
"Gumball, come on," Remy pleaded. "He's telling the truth, Gumball. You can't stay mad at him forever. He's your brother, for crying out loud. I can't stand to see you two like this."
"Easy for you to say," Gumball retorted, his dull mask bouncing back to him from the windowpane.
Inside the Marvelite, the human child folded his arms and lowered his head. "Tell you what. When you get home, let him know."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
The Marvelite's shine waned, as did Remy's voice. As did his presence. Gumball looked away from the window and met eyes with Darwin, who had been watching the entirety of the conversation.
"What did it say?" asked Darwin. Whatever the stone had told Gumball, he hoped that it would put their squabble to rest.
"This and that," was Gumball's more-than-ambiguous response. He elaborated on the phrase by telling his brother, "I want to show you something when we get back."
The three Watterson children entered the front door of their house, which had been empty the whole afternoon, like with every other weekday, save for their father Richard. He was asleep on the sofa, a half-empty bowl of nachos on his belly, moving up and down to the rhythm of his breathing.
Anais, ever the level-headed one of the trio of siblings, took to her father to wake him up and greet him hello, cleaning up half of the mess he had made while she was at it. The brothers went ahead to their room, Gumball locking the door shut.
"So what did you want to show me?" Darwin shrugged.
Gumball fished for the Marvelite in his pants and held it out for his brother to see. He kept the stone out for some time, receiving a lukewarm face from the orange fish child.
Darwin's expression quickly changed when Gumball placed his fin atop the stone and it gave off its psychedelic luminescence. The room was then engulfed in the Marvelite's blinding light.
The Watterson brothers found themselves standing in what appeared to be a wasteland of sorts. Ravine, valley, any of them would do. They fit the place perfectly and described what it was. What it had.
What little it had.
Not a single soul could be seen in this barren location. Mountains and hills were all that were here, assembled in a formation. Rising as little as the height of ten people stacked on top of each other, and as high as the clouds, surpassing them even. The dirt ground should have been rough on their feet, moreso on Gumball's, but the terrain was more or less flat and the pebbles nonexistent. Was this another memory?
Unzipping before the pair was a spatial shaft, and out of the passage stepped Remy, greeting them with his now-trademark smile.
"You're…" Darwin tried, but was at a loss for words.
The human extended his arm out to the fish boy and told him, "Remy. Nice to meet you."
"H-hi," Darwin began again and reluctantly placed his fin in the boy's hand, calming his nerves, but still stunned. Speechless. Everything he had ever suspected was confirmed with this one encounter. Solidified with that handshake. He felt his confidence returning and added, "Darwin Raglan Caspian Ahab Poseidon Nicodemus Watterson the Third. But Darwin's fine."
Remy retreated a step, flincing at the lengthy name. In a way, it was funny. It was cute. It elicited a giggle from him. "That's a mouthful. I'll stick to 'Darwin', like you said. And 'Third'?"
"Yeah." Darwin beamed a tiny smile.
"What happened to the other two?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," Darwin remarked, turning his head to the side. All of a sudden disgruntled, and taking his frustrations out on Gumball by shooting a glare that sunk inside the cat's fur and skin.
Gumball rolled his eyes and sighed, and he fired back, effectively triggering a petty squabble. The second one of the day, and another entry to add to their long list of instances of beating a dead horse. He countered by reminding his brother that he already apologized to him before. That he was sorry for his mistreatment of Darwin the First and Darwin the Second, for leaving them to their untimely fates.
Like his glare not a minute ago, Darwin's rebuttal had left Gumball quite affected, his words cutting past his feline brother's layers, past his defenses. He answered by telling him that it could have been him instead of the previous two Darwins.
No matter how hard he tried, the words could not come out of Gumball's mouth. He had no words. He had no response. Only stammers. Only fragments and failed tries.
Having seen enough, Remy leapt in between the brothers and held out both of his hands at the two of them.
"Okay, that's enough," the human shouted, his surging emotions putting the Wattersons' attention into his hands. Like the strings of a puppet. "Now, you two can argue about something that, from what I can tell, has already passed. You can bicker to your heart's content, OR I can give you the tour around town like I promised. You can only have one, so take your pick!"
A pervasive silence dispersed throughout the desolate valley as Gumball and Darwin contemplated on the ultimatum. One of the thoughts that sprung in Gumball's mind was that his and Darwin's bickering was nothing new to them. It was one of the most recurring parts of their brotherhood, and he wouldn't have it any other way. It reminded him that at the end of the day, they were still brothers. And that no obstacle, big or small, could drive a wedge between them.
Taking that out would be like taking out the night from the day. Like the yin and the yang without the other. Like the sky without the earth. It wouldn't bode well. Remy had just tried to do that. Gumball was hard-pressed as to why he did what he did. He has had siblings of his own, so he should know the meaning of being a brother or sister more than anyone else. Just as well as he did.
After much time has passed, Gumball and Darwin forewent their tiff to get started on the journey across the olden-day Elmore.
At least, that's what the brothers had originally thought they were going today.
To their surprise, Remy was actually leading them across the valley. The Wattersons would not have been here if his plans were different in the slightest. As the three of them walked along the dirt ground, the Watterson brothers were starting to sense that there was more to this desolate space than meets the eye. They felt it underneath their feet. Something cold, hard and smooth to the touch.
It was a railway track. They had not noticed it until now, until they were farther down the valley and out of the mountain ranges. The path branched off into forks of two or three every now and then, and upon exploring the place some more, they saw the precise spot these tracks came from. They were standing before it right now.
A huge opening in one of the mountains, framed by a pair of swinging wooden doors. This part of the valley was noticeably more alive than the rest of the entire area. People entered and exited these doors, wearing leather workboots to cope with the harsh terrain, hard helmets in the rare event that rocks fell on their heads, and overalls to compensate for the heat. Many of them were handling equipment of a specific purpose. Some of them had pickaxes in their hands and struck certain parts of the mountain with them, with tremendous force. Others hauled large wooden carts that rolled along the railways and contained a wealth of minerals and ore.
Gumball wondered to himself. He had been to almost every part of Elmore by now, and not once did he ever think that there was a mine somewhere around the town or its outskirts. Then again, he did recall a past life as a prospector's mule. But that would have been as good a clue as any.
Remy took point once again and guided Gumball and Darwin across the excavation site, passing by each miner as they struck their veins of ore and went in and out the doors. Without further ado, he began a lecture on what was once one of the town's most popular and richest industries – mining. The Wattersons listened attentively.
Before Elmore became what it was now, mining was all the rage. One could fetch a respectable price for any fine material, from granite to gold to tourmaline to carbuncle. Even if it were only an ore extracted from a vein, the profit gained would be more than enough to put an entire year's worth of food on the table. As such, the business was competitive to get into. The industry was quickly taken advantage of. It accounted for most of the people's jobs.
When Darwin asked what became of Elmore's glorious mining business, Remy relented on his answer. His optimism had briefly vanished from him as he gave a single statement as his only answer, "That's a topic for another day," and continued on his path.
Deeper into the mine, Gumball saw that none of the miners were speaking to them. They didn't even stop for a second to bid the three of them 'hello' or tell them that this was no place for children. This was another one of Remy's recollections. It was a shame because Darwin was missing out on a lot; experiencing the old Elmore itself would have been much better as opposed to just a memory of it.
"Let me show you how it's done," a voice from some secluded part of the mine spoke.
Remy, familiar with how his memories played out, ushered his feline and fish friends to the direction of the voice. What they found were two men drenched in their own sweat, their clothes clinging to their skin. One of them was lying on the ground, exhausted from the effort he had put in. The second man was on his feet, looking down on his coworker with disdain. His face rung a bell in Gumball.
"First of all, that is not how you hold a pickaxe," said the upright man, yanking his downed colleague's tool for a demonstration. Striking the stone wall before them five times before stopping. "Keep a firm grip on it and rally it back at just the right distance. Move it back too far and you're going to fall, no questions asked."
Watching this man showing a less experienced miner the tricks of the trade made Remy chuckle under his breath. "I forgot to mention that my dad's also a miner. That's the reason why we're able to afford our house and pretty much everything we own."
Gumball couldn't help but crinkle his face into a frown. Remy said so himself that this was supposed to be his father, Bernard, but to the blue cat, it didn't seem that way. Bernard the miner and Bernard the doting father were two very different people. He could see that very clearly from this scene alone.
Most of the fathers Gumball knew were quirky, in a way. But when push comes to shove, they knew when to take matters seriously. This man, Bernard, had no quirks to him. He was as honest as the word allowed. A blue-collar individual with a no-nonsense attitude and a dedication worthy of respect. There was no gray area to be seen in Bernard. Either he was a caring, if at times overbearing family man, or a miner hardened in heart, mind, body, soul and spirit by the dangerous conditions he worked in.
"Now, let's see you give it a try," Bernard said, dropping the pickaxe to the ground.
He looked on as his hapless colleague lifted the tool with his two hands and did as he was shown, setting his feet shoulder-length apart and hitting the wall multiple times. Growing more and more accustomed to the tedium.
"Hey, I'm getting the hang of this," the miner remarked, his grip on his pickaxe tightening. "Thanks, Bernie."
"Whatever." Claiming his own pickaxe from the railway tracks, Bernard resumed with his work and drove his apparatus against the wall over and over. "Don't let it get to your head."
"My dad is really into his job," Remy commented, flashing a wry grin. "Maybe a little into it."
"I'll say," Darwin added.
Rubbing his paws, Gumball tapped his human friend on the shoulder. "Are you going to show my brother around town now?"
Remy rattled his head. "Oh, right. How could I let that slip from my mind?" He and Gumball joined hands, offering their other to the fish child. "Darwin, hold on tight."
"Why?" Darwin retracted his arms, weary of what the human was intending.
Gumball shook his head and moaned. Even three years after growing his legs, Darwin had a bit more work to do if he wanted to live in this world. "It's going to be a bumpy ride."
"What he said. Come on."
Now that their hands were joined, Remy sealed his eyes shut and focused, gathering as much energy as he could. Channeling them towards every part of his body.
A gale spiraled around the three boys and lifted them out of the mine. It carried them from the current memory and across an entire field of them. The images and sequences projected depicted various moments in Remy's life, both good and bad.
Gumball observed them for the duration of the flight. One of them showed Remy and his baby sister Julia sitting on the side of the road and indulging in ice cream cones. Julia had accidentally dropped one of her scoops to the ground from licking them too furiously, causing her to burst in tears. Remy gave her one of his own scoops, letting it slide gently from his cone to hers. As her way of showing thanks, Julia gave her brother a quick hug before going back to her dessert, carefully lapping her scoops this time around.
Another picture that Gumball witnessed was Remy in the living room of his home, lying on the sofa with a pained expression, his mother Catherine nursing a wound on his knee with some antiseptic, cotton and gauze. How badly was he hurt that she had to use this much stuff, Gumball wondered.
Several more sequences and images appeared before Gumball's eyes. They came to him in droves. There were too many of them to count, so he sorted them according to which ones he was affected by.
One by one he listed them.
First was Remy and Julia once again, this time riding their bicycles along a footpath in a park.
The next was the brother and sister pair walking in on Catherine and Bernard kissing in their bedroom, with tongue-to-tongue action to boot, looking on at their parents with utter disgust.
The last image Gumball added to his list was Remy watching his baby brother Monty as he slept in his cot, looking at him with a gaze that was gentle as a summer breeze.
That was the end of his list. Or at least Gumball assumed it was.
One more picture emerged before his eyes and quickly took the number one spot in his list. It was not of Remy or his family. It was of a place.
A cemetery, in the dead of the night. A heavy downpour was upon the place, drenching every tombstone erected, the crashing thunder rolling down Gumball's spine. One certain tombstone stuck out to him. The epitaph written on it was wired into his mind.
'Too good for this world, taken from it so abruptly.'
While the thunder crashes made Gumball's spine quake, this sentence tugged at his heartstrings, playing them like some kind of instrument. He looked away from the image, but it was no use. It was too deeply imprinted. He was ensnared in a trance where he wondered if that was really one of Remy's recollections. If that tombstone, that epitaph, belonged to him.
The three children landed on Elmorean soil after an admittedly longer-than-usual trip. Darwin wasted little time in exploring the old town with Remy by his side, but Gumball remained in his trance, viewing that same image in his mind repeatedly.
"Gumball," Remy hollered from a distance. "Are you coming or what?"
Hearing his name jostled Gumball out of his stupor. He started running and waving his arm and yelled back at them. "Wait up!"
The image of the cemetery was like a parasite that clung to him. It engulfed him whole, from head to toe.
No matter where he looked, no matter what he did, this image was there to stay.
Just because I'm on a vacation doesn't mean I can't upload a chapter now, does it?
Anyway, I have the conclusion planned out. Here's hoping you guys enjoy it, just as I'm sure you're enjoying the story so far.
