Stop Looking at your Shoes and Start looking at the World Around You
Chapter 6: Final Confrontation
"Tino," Tish spoke into the walkie-talkie, "I've found Carver at the bus station!"
she waited for confirmation but all she heard was Tino's voice broken up by a lot of static. "…..Tish………….there……..ou…….Car…………are you?"
"This is not good." She thought to herself. In a last attempt, she spoke into the walkie-talkie with a clear and simple message, enunciating every word, "Ashrise bus station!"
She paused… it was no good, there was too much interference. Dropping the useless machine into the basket of her bike, she looked through the glass walls of the station to see if he was still there. Indeed, he had not moved from that spot. Carver didn't even know she was there. He was still as a statue, back faced to her, looking up at the transit map. This was one of the larger, central bus stations, not a simple bus shelter with a sign that you see every few blocks. It was the kind where someone could catch a bus going anywhere in Bahia Bay, even out of town.
She took a deep breath, she was all alone on this. She pushed the door open and walked in. Save for the two souls, the station was completely deserted. Carver didn't give any reaction as she slowly walked towards him. She took each step cautiously, as if she was walking through a mine field. When she got within a few feet, Carver caught her reflection in the glass covering the transit map and turned around to face her.
She stopped in her tracks, they were only a few feet apart but it was like there was a wall between them. For the longest time, no one broke the silence. In contrast to the deafness of the world, Tish's mind was over crowded with a multitude of emotions and thoughts clamouring for her voice. She didn't know what to say or how to feel. What was she going to say to him? Should she be angry, sympathetic, forceful, maternal, should she scream and let everything out… or should she just stand there and let the silence linger? Her heart begged for him to start the conversation; to make the first move. But he remained silent, patient, like he had all the time in the world. There has never been a play written, a book authored, or an opera performed that could have ever prepared her for this.
She eventually had to speak first, her words bubbled to the surface as a simple "Where are you going?"
Carver lowered his eyebrows, like he was expecting her to say something else. "Nowhere." He distantly said as he turned back around.
"Then, what are you doing here?" she timidly asked. He didn't answer her directly, just slightly lowered his head.
"Carver," She spoke up, "What happened to you?"
He didn't answer.
"Why are you doing this?"
Still no answer. Tish was waning to the side of anger.
"Stop being such a martyr!" She yelled, "Do you think this will make it all better? Torturing yourself and the people around you! What is it all worth to you?"
Quietness fell over them once more. This time, it was Carver who broke the silence. "Four pairs of shoes." He said hatefully.
"What?" Tish asked.
"The night of the fire, I didn't escape while I could because I wanted to save as many of my shoes as I could carry." He explained.
He spun around, "That is what I am worth to myself! That is what I was willing to KILL myself for!" He screamed, "You couldn't possibly understand what I'm going through right now! None of you can! I can't stand being around myself any longer! I hate myself, and everything that I am!"
"Carver." Tish said sympathetically as she stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't touch me!" He spat as he swatted her kind gesture away. "I'm a worthless, shallow, selfish human being! I hate myself and everything that made me who I am: my family, my friends, this whole God damn town!" He illustrated by pounding the transit map with his fist. "All of it is a reminder of who I am! I have to get away!"
"…And what about me?" Tish asked.
"What about you?" Carver sneered.
"You have given me the most of your hatred. You neglected me, rejected me, even came close to physically harming me… so why me?"
The familiar silence drifted back into the room once more, only to be chased away as Carver gave a spiteful chuckle. It made Tish quiver.
"Why? Because you were right all along." He began as he pulled himself away from the map like he was possessed. "You knew from the day you met me that I was shallow, and vain. And I hated you for it. Because you always knew me better than I knew myself."
He began stepping towards Tish like the devil was pulling his strings. Tish backed up. She could see the monster rising in him again.
"And every day you pounded down on me for it. You wouldn't let me get away with anything. And you were always right. What gave you that right? To be so smart and incisive? When I couldn't even see it myself!" He accented his point by physically pushing her. She stumbled back but remained standing.
Tish cast her eyes to the floor. "Then go right ahead…" she said in a hollow voice, raising her eyes to meet his, "…finish what you've started."
"What?" Carver snarled.
"Hit me, as hard as you can." Tish demanded as she stretched her arms out to her sides, leaving herself completely defenceless. "There's no one here to stop you now, so go ahead and do it!"
"You're bluffing!" he retorted.
"No," she answered, "I'm giving you a choice. If you really are the kind of person you say you are, if all our years together really meant nothing, than go ahead and do it! Finish me off! Prove to me that there is nothing left of the Caver I knew! Look, I'll even make it easier for you!" She reached a hand up to her face and removed her glasses.
"I missed you the first time, I won't miss again!" he warned.
"I don't care just DO IT! Hit me! This is what you want isn't it? To throw me out of your life. Well? This will make you happy then. Don't hold back, HIT ME! HIT ME, GOD DAMNIT, PUNCH ME IN THE FACE!" She finished with a strong, steady voice.
Carver wrenched his fist, his arm tensed, his eyes narrowed. She brought him on, she asked for it. There really was nothing to stop him. He only had to do this one thing, this one simple thing, and he would be rid of her forever; to sever the last tie to his former self. He stared down into Tish's eyes, she stared back at him, unwavering, unafraid, not even blinking. He grinded his teeth, Every word that she said pounded in his brain, infiltrating every fibre of his being. His arm felt like it weighted a ton, like he was fighting against himself. A battle of light and darkness waged across his face. Eternity dwelled in seconds, torturing him, stretching him to the brink between Heaven and Hell. The war of conscience clashed throughout his soul. Finally, the battle was over, his choice was made, he lost whatever was holding him back and began to raise his arm…………….. then the other.
He threw himself into her open arms. Letting all of his weight fall onto her. Despite her physical frailty, he knew that she was much stronger than he could ever be. They both sunk to their knees, he clung to her, holding her tight like she had just pulled him from the edge of a cliff. The demon was gone, he was free to cry out. The collective tears that he had held back for so long now flowed like a river into Tish's shoulder. He never felt better, it was like that first breathe of air you take upon escaping from a watery grave. And he had Tish to thank, for reminding him of who he truly was. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm so sorry."
She retuned the embrace, placing her hand on the back of his head, shedding tears of her own. Smiling gently, she simply said "Thank you."
Epilogue:
Tino here. There have been a good many weekends since that day. Carver's family ended up using the insurance money to move into a new place just down the street from where they used to live. It's nice, almost as big as their old place. Thinly decorated thou, but they're working on that. The only drawback is that for the longest time I had to walk by the ruins of his old house whenever I paid him a visit. But they tore it down not too long ago, now it's just an empty lot. Carver's doing fine now. We heard that he had a few appointments with a consoler to work things out, but we never asked him about it. As far as shoes go, he still collects them, but he has drawn the line between fan and fanatic, and decided to stay on the former side. Tish still has to fight with him sometimes when he doesn't realize that he is being a S.N.O.B.B. But that's just one of those personality quirks that makes Carver who he is. And honestly, we wouldn't have it any other way.
We were just having a good time at the beach today when we got hit with an unexpected down pour. Right now we're standing inside the shelter of the Snack Shack, trying to wait it out. Everyone else is complaining about how this has ruined their plans for the rest of the day. I don't mind it though, I like the rain… it's good for the flowers.
Later Days.
Author's Notes:
And thus does my first weekender's fan fiction come to its conclusion. I have to say that it has been nothing if not an interesting journey. I must confess that I actually finished this chapter before the previous chapter. It is simply because two hours before work one day, I was stricken with the literary clairvoyance often referred to as "being in the zone" and I couldn't possibly use it one anything other than the grand finale. As I sit here, writing these final notes, I actually still have to go back and play around with chapter 5. While it definitely begins and ends where I want it to, plot wise. I'm still going to fiddle around with it until I feel it is up to par. The final result being the fifth chapter that you have read previously… or will read… or have read by the time you read this but doesn't actually exist as I'm writing this… yeah, that works.
I don't know if anyone caught it, but the last line of the epilogue "I like the rain… it's good for the flowers." Actually comes full circle to what Tino said at the beginning of the first chapter: "But in the garden of life, it has to rain for the flowers to bloom". It was just something that I had planned from the beginning. Speaking of plans. I have to say that this story, while maintaining some vague form of my original intent, became something more than I had envisioned. The biggest example is the readers' responses to the "Don't bring Tish" part of the letter. Originally, I wrote it as nothing more than a cheap plot device so that Tino and Carver could talk alone. But seeing the affect it had on people, I had to explore it further. Essentially changing the final confrontation from being between Tino and Carver to being between Tish and Carver. Which worked out all the better. It also explains why I had changed the narrative from Tino's perspective to a third-person perspective for the final chapter.
As the lid closes on this story, I am eagerly piecing together a worthy plot for my next endeavour. So I shall return to the pen and quill soon enough. Before I end here, I truly feel that I need to acknowledge the people who supported me through this trail of expression. I'd like to thank Gerard Dominus, for giving me such brilliant insight into the deeper meaning of Carver and Tish's friendship. You'll notice that I actually took a few lines directly from the chat transcript. I'd like to thank Attic Man, because it was a fan made music video about Tino and Lor which gave credit to your story "The Feeling" that lead me to this site in the first place. I'd… I actually don't want to… but your unjust hatred toward the character Carver actually inspired me to write this story. I don't like you, and you don't like me, but your animosity pushed me to make this story the best I could offer…so… th-thank you Lord Canti (yuck, I feel so dirty now). And finally, to the man who wrote "The Awakening", and actually contacted me in response to my reviews, the man who not only stood in my corner this whole time, but actually supplied me with a stock of Weekender episodes. The one, and only true king of Weekender Fan Fiction, Lord Malachite. Thank you.
