CHAPTER 13 - JOURNEY BACK HOME

The rays of the sun were visible again through the small entrances. Howard stretched out his arms and let out a big yawn.

"Ahh," Howard said, feeling refreshed. "It sure is good to wake up somewhere else for once. That old, stinking alley is getting quite boring anyway. So were you able to sleep last night?"

"Yeah," I replied, yawning shortly after. "My mind was just filled with so much thoughts. Should we get some food? I'm starving! We just had one heck of a meal yesterday."

"I guess we'll have to settle for the dumpsters now, lest we get shooed away again by a crazy fish with a mop!"

"We'll just have to be careful about stray snails that sometimes live there. I scavenged for some nachos in a dumpster and got chased by several, sinister-looking, spiked snails."

We got up from an exit nearby. The morning rush was over. The streets were almost clear of boats by this time, but not long before trucks would fill the streets to deliver goods. I have been woken up by the hustle and bustle of boats and people, but Howard slept through those loud noises. He must have been quite tired.

"Wait a minute," Howard said. "You look... younger. What happened to your beard? And your skin is actually greener! And where is that liver spot on your left arm?"

I felt the skin around my mouth and was very surprised to feel that my beard has gotten even shorter than it was. I pulled up a few strands of it before my eye and saw that the strands have turned into a dark shade of gray. I looked at my skin and saw that it was almost back to how it was before I got imprisoned.

"I have no idea," I replied, still trying to hide the fact that this was perhaps a bonus reward that The Flying Dutchman would give me whenever I would do something right and feel good about it.

The place we emerged into looked quite familiar to me. I saw that same newspaper stand again where I found out that Mr. Krabs got a heart attack. I checked the news and didn't see anything about Mr. Krabs, but something about Sandy's newest invention, the jellyfish tamer, finally getting a patent after winning the science fair that was held some time ago and something about Patrick inventing yet another new flavor of ice cream. I just let the bitterness out with another deep sigh.

"What's wrong? Is it something about Mr. Krabs again?" Howard asked as he looked at the newspaper. "He's not even on the news right now!"

"Nope," I replied. "I used to be a scientist. Whenever I would make a scheme to steal that Krabby Patty formula, I would make some ridiculous invention to help me with my plans. None of my inventions were patented. Just like with everything else, I was a failure even at that one thing I was good at: science."

"But if you were so good at it, then why didn't you use those inventions for something better? You could have started a gadget shop, or a medicine store, or something," he continued.

"You have a point. But it's too late for me to do that now," I replied. "Besides, there is someone who is better than me at science, and that would be Sandy. She also knows karate, and is the wife of the frycook of the Krusty Krab. The only thing I wanted back then was to steal that formula and make Mr. Krabs regret fighting me by conquering the world; nothing else mattered. However, things have changed now, and only recently have I realized that I wasted my whole life chasing after something that isn't worth it."

"But have you ever actually tried to turn over a new leaf? What, with all those consecutive failures, there has got to be some point when you decided to just give it all up."

"I decided, however, to start a knickknack store, but Mr. Krabs had to ruin it for me by steering me back to the temptation of the Krabby Patty," I continued as I let out another deep sigh. "He deceived me by pretending to offer his friendship and bring back the good old days when we were inseparable. Even if we were both outcasts, at least we had each other. I myself also deceived him several times by apologizing to him and secretly taking away the formula, but I never got away with doing that. Things have changed now, as I said, and deceiving him has already lost its appeal. I don't want the formula anymore."

"But if he is no longer willing to forgive you, what chance do you get now?"

"That doesn't matter anymore," I replied. "The important thing for me now is to be able to apologize to him one last time before his last breath. Whether he forgives me or not is no longer important if he is already a dying crab. The best gift I can give to an old friend I've been in a war with for almost my whole life is an apology in his hospital bed. Besides, I made the decision to go on this journey back home, and there is no more turning back."

"And after that?"

"Well, I have no idea," I replied with a genuine smile. "I suppose we could walk into the horizon on a sunset just like in movies and just enjoy the rest of whatever little time we have left?" When I just said those words, I realized that I no longer felt out of character. I was amazed at how a new place and a new friend can actually change my view of the world. I didn't even use any inventions or weird concoctions to achieve this.

"Wait," Howard interrupted my train of happy thoughts of tomorrow and snapped his finger in front of my eye. "I thought we're supposed to get some food from a nearby dumpster?" Even though he would sometimes forget my name, calling me Landon, Brandon, Wilson, and other similar names, he was almost always there to remind me of what we were supposed to do.

We went to the alley just near the newspaper stand and scavenged for crumbs of food there. Again, the rabid snails saw us and they meowed angrily. We ran as fast as we could, but Howard couldn't catch up with me. He was already about a fourth of a meter away from me when I stopped and looked back. He was grumbling in pain again as he stopped and panted for breath.

I ran back to where he was and decided to just carry him instead. I was in a hurry because the rabid snails were catching up with us. They were just about half a meter away. Surprisingly, I was able to do it even though I'm already an old guy who was never really physically fit in the first place.

We went back into the tunnels where even those snails can't enter. I put Howard down and we rested for a while. Howard continued to complain about his arthritis. Again, even though I wanted to get moving already, I couldn't just leave a weak, old guy behind even if the goal of my journey was to apologize to another weak, old guy whom I've known almost all my life.

I decided to lift him so that I could still carry on with the journey. Come to think about it, maybe I was physically fit. I used to carry bottles that are over twice my size and be able to run while doing so.

"It's okay," Howard said. "I can handle myself."

"Are you sure?" I asked as I put him down.

"Yeah," he replied. "Besides, this is nothing but a little bit of pain compared to the importance of what we're doing."