Chapter Twenty-five

Explanations

Richard's life seems to spiral out of control quite often now-a-days. Not only does he have to deal with a frightened Peter (which he doesn't mind doing), but he has the problem with Elsa. She was obviously freaked out about his 'display' the night before and since then, she has completely avoided him. Her bubbly self is no longer, and when she and Richard cross paths, she looks down at the floor and ignores him. Richard wants to explain to her what she saw, but this will be the very first time he has told anyone about his Dark Gift.

That in itself will lead to more questions. How long have you had it? When did you first notice it? Does anyone else know? How did you get it? He doesn't know that answer to the last question. He would have to talk about Seablite then, which he isn't willing to do. He doesn't know what to do.

He turns his attention back to Peter, who is standing across the table from him. He works quite well when gutting fish. He caught on quickly and is much more efficient than when Richard first started. The knife is just an extension of Peter's hand. He is visibly more relaxed and the dark circles under his eyes have gone away. Still he rarely speaks, but it's one step at a time from here. Richard doesn't think his friend will ever fully recover from his ordeal, whatever it was. He's just glad that he has someone in the home with him, who understands the pain he's going through.

The day goes by very smoothly until they return to the home. He doesn't know if Elsa has told Karen about the incident and he's hoping she hasn't. He has enough problems on his hands already. He decides to confront Elsa about it later before this whole thing blows out of proportion. He'll wait until everyone else is asleep and talk with Elsa up in the lounge like they usually do. During the time he waits, he plans out what he will probably say. It sounds good in his head, but he knows when he starts speaking, words will most likely fail him. Planning it out just makes him feel better on the inside, more prepared.

Later that night once everyone has gone done for the night, Richard makes his way up to the lounge. He peeks around the corner from where he stands in the stairwell. Elsa is there like she always is, curled up on one of the couches with a book open in her lap. She doesn't notice Richard as he silently makes his way into the lounge. Only when he sits on the couch does she look up from her book.

"Richard," she says, "... I didn't hear you come in." She brushes aside the bright pink, straight hair that falls into her eyes. "Well, I think I'm going to go to bed now. I'm kind of tired." She closes her book and stands up.

"Sit down," he says, watching her as she tenses up. "I think we have some things to clear up between the two of us."

She does sit down, but remains in a position that requires minimal effort to get up and leave quickly. "What do you want to talk about then?"

"About last night," he says and leans forward on his knees, "I know I freaked you out."

"Freaked out?" she repeats. "Freaked out? You did more than freak me out, Richard!"

"Shhh. Keep it down. Do you want the whole home to wake up?"

She rolls her eyes. "Do you have a better suggestion? 'Cause I feel like I'm going to be yelling a lot at you tonight."

"Wanna step outside?"

She shrugs and starts to head for the door leading outside. He follows her at a distance, being mindful that she might want some space to move around.

Outside in the cooler night air, Elsa walks up and down the boardwalk several times before Richard can begin to explain himself. Then he does, from beginning to end, only leaving out certain details such as his escape from Seablite and the fact that he was experimented on. When he's finished, he steps away from Elsa, turning his back on her, pushing down all the emotions that have started to rise up inside of him. But he feels better, surprisingly. There's less on his shoulders now. His burdens have been lifted, somewhat.

"So," Elsa says. "Let me get this straight. This Gift that you have affects some part of your brain which allows you to-" she waves her hand at him "-do whatever that's called. Why is that again?"

"Water pressure," he says and looks over his shoulder at her. She's running her hands through her hair, trying to understand all of this. "It affects not fully developed brains and causes abnormalities in the body that are related to marine life."

"Are they visible abnormalities?" she asks.

Richard shrugs. "The ones that I have seen are because of simple brain changes. I'm the only person that I know of who has something physical to show off."

"Will… will this happen to me?" She looks down at her fingernails and picks at the vibrant pink nail polish on her fingernails.

From the look in her eyes, Richard sees that she's scared. She doesn't want to become like him, a freak, an outcast.

"Maybe," he says. "Maybe not. I don't know if you're deep enough for the water pressure to affect your brain. You probably won't get one."

She nods and looks up at him, taking a few steps closer. "Can I see it again? I think the first time was a little too flashy for my taste."

He smiles and nods. Holding up his arm, he makes a small fish appear and sends it swimming across his skin. Elsa stares at it for a good long time, never getting closer, never moving away, but staying in the same spot.

"It's weird," she finally says. "How do you live with it?"

"I don't know. It's part of me forever. I lived Topside for a couple of months and it never did go away. I don't think there'll ever be a cure for this."

"Hm," she says. "So there are more of you out there?"

He nods. "Peter does. Don't talk to him about it though. It's a really sore subject for him to talk about."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs, giving himself some time to think up a lie and quick. "He had a harder time accepting his Gift than the others did. He also had a rough home life so that didn't exactly help."

"Okay." She picks at her fingernails again. "I'm sorry for freaking out yesterday. I just don't know what to think about it yet."

"I can understand why you did," he says. "It would've freaked anyone out."

"How do you live with it? I mean it must've taken a while for you to get used to it."

That's a hard question to answer. How does he live with it? "I don't know," he answers. "I tried to forget about it after I came back to live Topside, but I could never really forget about it. There's this thought in the back of my head that always reminds me that I'm different from the others. That I'm a..." He trails off.

"That you're some sort of freak," she finishes then adds, "You're always set apart from the others."

He nods and rubs the back of his neck. "It's not easy."

"I bet," she says. "Have you told anyone else that you have this... Gift?"

He shakes his head. "You're the first. It's a hard thing to come out with. I think it would scare people off."

She smiles a little, understanding where he's coming from. "It is quite shocking at first. I bet you were pretty scared when you first discovered it."

That's for sure. He remembers it all too well when he was in a fight with another inmate and his skin went completely red. "I was," he admits. "Wouldn't you be freaked out if your skin started changing colours?"

She chuckles. "Probably. I think I'll stick with changing my nail and hair colour, if you don't mind. Skin is a little too drastic for me."

"Can I ask you something?"

She nods. "Anything you want, but not in that sense if you know what I mean."

"Can you keep this to yourself? I don't want the others to find out. I wouldn't be able to handle everyone at once."

"Sure," she says. "I can keep a secret." She smoothes out her hair and the wrinkles in her clothes before looking Richard in the eye. "I'm glad that we've got this all cleared up now. I don't feel as weirded out as before. If that's all we need to talk about, I think I'll go to bed now. I've got a busy day tomorrow." She turns and heads back into the home.

As soon as she's gone, Richard sighs deeply. At least that's over. Now he can relax. Everything went well. Elsa was surprisingly calm despite the fact that Richard had scared the daylights out of her the other day. Now he can focus on other more important things, like getting Peter to act a little more normal, or less cold.

He meanders his way back to the home, taking his time.

"Richard?" a voice asks behind him.

He turns around to face the speaker. A young boy stands in front of him. He can't be more than fourteen years old. Richard blinks once, then twice. He knows this boy, this poor, small, and vulnerable boy. "Trevor? What are you doing here?"

The boy shrugs. He sets down the duffle bag he carries on the wooden planks. "I ran away," he answers and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Came here, looking for you."

"Why?"

"Because you have it good out here," he says. "You actually know what you're doing."

"No, I don't," he says.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't," he says again. "I don't know what I'm doing. I left the boarding home on impulse. I had nothing with me other than a backpack full of clothes. Even now I barely have anything. I don't know what I'm doing, Trevor."

"At least you have a chance now!" Trevor shouts. "I had no chance of surviving back there. I left because of you. I came here because I knew how good you have it out here compared to the rest of us."

Richard shakes his head. "You don't understand, Trevor."

"What? What don't I understand?"

"You don't understand that no matter what I told you in those letters, I still don't know what I'm doing with my life. Sure, I can see myself gutting fish for a few years, but I don't want to do that for the rest of my life. I can't live in the ocean because I don't know the first thing about how to live out here."

"It's still better than having every one stare at you like your some sort of freak," Trevor mumbles. "At least you can hide your scar. The rest of us aren't so lucky, Richard." He picks up his bag and starts to walk off to the home. "I don't care what say, Richard. I'm staying whether you want me to or not."

"I didn't say that I don't want you to stay," Richard says.

Trevor stops in his tracks and turns to face him. "What do you want to say to me then?"

Richard shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I'm just warning you that this life isn't any better than your old one. It has just as many bad things about it than the stack cities."

"Yeah, but there's one difference between them that I care about only."

"What's that?"

"Less people."