Chapter Twenty-three
Silence
Richard takes Peter down to Betsy's apartment. She takes one look at the poor boy and ushers them both into her apartment.
"Oh you poor thing," she says and sits Peter down on the cushioned chair. Peter doesn't acknowledge either one of them and stares at the wall. Betsy rushes into the bathroom and runs a cloth under a cold stream of water. She returns and presses it to Peter's bruised cheek. "There you go. Just hold that there. It'll help with the swelling. Are you hungry, deary?"
Richard sits down into the wooden chair. Peter holds the wet cloth to his cheek. His eyes remain fixed on the wall. He doesn't respond.
"Peter?" Betsy asks. Then he shakes his head.
"I'll take care of him," Richard says. "Thanks for all your help." She nods and smiles sadly at Peter, then goes back into her room.
When they are alone, Richard leans onto the table. Peter sniffles and looks down at the table. "Peter?" he asks. He gets no response. "It'd be easier if you would talk to me." Still there's no response. "Are you tired?" A nod. "There's a pile of blankets over here. How 'bout you take them?" Peter doesn't move.
Frustrated, Richard leans back into his chair. "Peter, please, I'm trying to help." After a moment of silence, Richard makes the first move. He pulls Peter out of his seat gently and sets him down on the blankets. "Is that better?" A small nod. "Good. Try to get some sleep, okay? We'll be leaving in the morning."
Richard takes the cushioned chair and sits down it. It's a very long time before Peter finally falls asleep. Richard hopes it will be a peaceful night for them both.
He sleeps in an awkward position in the cushioned chair. He doesn't get much sleep that night, but as long as Peter gets better that's the only thing that matters to him right now.
In the morning with a stiff neck, Richard gently shakes Peter's arm. He opens his eyes and looks around the room, not quite remembering where he is.
"Feeling any better?" Richard asks.
Peter sits up and draws his knees up to his chest. For the first time he looks up at Richard. He seems a little less shaken than last night. His is visibly more relaxed, but still quiet.
"Are you thirsty?" Peter nods. Richard goes to the small cabinet and pulls out a glass. He fills it up from the bathroom and hands it to Peter. "Better now?" he asks. After the glass is drained, Peter nods. "Good. We should get going now. We have a long way to go yet."
Peter stands up and shuffles to the door. His gait is stiff. It's as if every step he takes pains him. Richard notices that he has no shoes.
"We'll have to get you some shoes on the way," he says. "You can't go walking around barefoot."
Betsy opens her door, dressed for the day with her hand bag clutched close to her body. "Oh, leaving already?"
Richard nods. "I need to get him out of here. Thanks for everything."
"Take care, dearies."
They leave the apartment and make their way onto the street. Peter stays close to Richard's side as they begin to make their way back to the shore. First they stop by at a shoe store, buying the cheapest shoes they can find that fit Peter. After that they begin to continue their way back to the shore. Richard drops off the GPS at a convenient store and leads Peter to the docks.
"The home is nice," Richard says, trying to gain Peter's full attention. "There's lots of room down there. You get your own room. The woman who owns the place, Karen, is very nice. She makes a deal if you don't have any money to pay for it. What do you think of that?" Peter, like always, doesn't answer and continues to look far off.
Richard sighs in exasperation. It's been going on like this for hours. He's had a continuous, one-sided conversation with Peter all the way to the docks. It's rough going for the both of them. Richard is nearing his wit's end. If Peter doesn't start talking soon, Richard will most likely snap. His patience is wearing thin.
Standing up, Richard walks off to the ticket booth. He notices that Peter silently follows, not wanting to be left behind. "Stay there," he says and points back to the bench. "I'm just going to pay our fare." Peter looks back at the bench and shuffles back to it, sitting down rather stiffly.
He pays for the tickets that will ferry them back to the Trade Station. The supply ship Richard travelled with before already left yesterday. It will be another long trip back, but soon everything will get better, hopefully.
The boat arrives and docks safely. Peter follows his friend onto the boat. Richard finds a spot under the covered boat far away from the other travelers. He knows Peter will probably appreciate it.
The ride takes several hours. Richard explains about life at the home and what he does for a living.
"It's just temporary," he says. "I don't think I'll gut fish for the rest of my life. Maybe I'll stake my claim, get a farm and move subsea." Peter nibbles on one of his fingernails. "I would appreciate your input in this matter." He switches fingers.
Eventually Richard stops trying to make Peter talk. He'll talk when he wants to and not any time sooner. Richard can't push him into doing something he doesn't want to do. It's just good to have one of his friends back. Hopefully this will make things easier for them both.
"And here we are," Richard says. "Welcome to the home."
Of course Peter doesn't see anything except a lone, short building. He frowns and looks around for the home.
"It's under the dock," he says. "It hangs in the water. Come on, I'll show you around." He leads Peter into the small, office building. It'd be best to talk to Karen first before bringing in a stranger. "Stay right here, okay? I'm just going to talk to Karen real quickly and I'll be right back." Peter sits down on one of the chairs and crosses his arms over his chest, hunching over.
Richard enters the home in search of Karen. The lounge is filled with the other residents as they talk to one another and enjoy their last free day before work the next day. Karen is not up here. He goes down to the kitchen in search of Elsa. Perhaps she'll know where Karen is.
"Elsa," he says and steps into the kitchen.
"Yes," she calls out. She turns around, her bright, orange ringlets falling out of the hair net. "Hello, Richard. Where have you been?"
"Mainland," he says. "Do you know where Karen is?"
"Why were you on the mainland?"
"That's not important right now. I need to know where Karen is."
Elsa turns back to the frying food on the stove top. "Last time I checked, she was down in the gym."
"Where's that?"
"Bottom floor. Just keep walking down the stairs. You'll find it."
"Thanks." He whirls around and heads back down the stairs, taking them as quickly as he dares without falling flat on his face.
He makes it down to the gym which is under the garden where Elsa usually grows the fresh fruit and vegetables for dinner. The gym is fully equipped with weights, mats, and several punching bags hanging in various spots around the room. Karen is hard at it on one of the mats, completing a set of sit-ups.
"Karen," he says, "I need a favor."
"What's that?" she asks without breaking her pace.
"Well, I have a friend here, and-"
"And you're wondering if your friend can stay here," she finishes.
"Well, yeah."
"Runaway?"
"Sort of."
"No money then," she guesses.
"Yes."
"Good worker?"
"Now, that I wouldn't know," he says. "He's a changed person right now, a little shaken up."
"Oh. He better be one, though," she says and finishes her set. She stands up wipes her face off with a towel. "If he's not, he can't stay here."
"Why not?"
"I'm a business woman," she says. "Not a babysitter. Either your friend pulls his weight around, or he's out of here."
"I'm sure he'll work, but-"
"But what?" she asks and steps towards him.
"Could it be possible if you gave him one day to settle in?"
Karen gives him a stern look. "Richard-"
"Please. Just one day, that's all I ask for. If it's money, take mine. Just please, let him stay here."
She pushes back her sweaty hair and throws the towel onto her shoulder. "It'll cost you a day's wages, you know that right?" Richard nods. "Okay then. I'll be up in a minute to get your friend signed in."
"Thank you."
Back up the several flights of stairs, Richard hurries back to Peter, who is still patiently sitting on the chair, waiting for Richard's return.
"You're in," he says and sits down beside Peter. "You'll get the day off tomorrow to settle in, but after that you'll be working with me. Does that sound alright?" Peter nods and nibbles on a shortened fingernail. "Good."
Karen arrives and sets up all the papers and agreement concerning wages and lodging. Peter signs his name down on the ledger and receives his room key. His face remains expressionless.
"Come on," Richard says. "I'll show you around." Peter follows Richard into the lounge/dining hall. He explains what goes on, when meal times are, and the work schedule. Then he leads him down to his room which is a floor below Richard's.
"Here we are," he says and leans against the wall. "Why don't you open it up?"
Peter looks down at the key in his hand and looks at the door. He slides the key into the doorknob and twists it. He pushes open the door and enters the room. He walks around it, noting how large it is and the fact that it's all his. Of course his face remains blank and doesn't say anything to Richard. Then he sees the bed. He stares at it for quite a long time and then sits down on it gently, running his hands over the fabric of the blanket.
"Like it?" Richard asks.
Peter nods eagerly. His eyes sweep over the size of the room again before they return to the bed.
"Dinner's at six. I can come down and get you if you want to stay in here."
Peter kicks off his new shoes and pulls himself further on to the bed. Richard understands the message and retreats, closing the door behind him.
As soon as the door is closed and Peter is alone for the first time in his life, his defenses crumble. He curls up onto the bed and hugs the pillow close to his chest. One by one the tears begin to fall. Still Peter remains quiet. He's just so tired from everything that he has no more control over anything. Usually he is quiet and in control of his emotions, but the past few months have been tough. The healing process has just begun and from the looks of it, it will be a long one. Sleep will help him get through most of it. He feels as if he hasn't received a good night's sleep in ages. He closes his eyes.