Chapter Twenty-six

Reunions

With the arrival of Trevor, Peter seems a little more relaxed than when he first arrived. Now there are two people who understand his pain and misery. It makes the home that much more comfortable. And the fact that he no longer has to see his uncle makes it even brighter. The bruises have faded, the nightmares have started to go away (of him at least), and the tension in his shoulders has melted away. Then why doesn't he feel normal? Why doesn't he feel better about himself and his current situation? The more he thinks about it, the clearer it becomes. Seablite. That's his answer.

Ever since Seablite he feels different. Something snapped on the inside when he was operated on and it never really healed. Doc and his medical team only reminded him that he was nothing to the world. He was only another orphaned, street rat that didn't matter to anyone. He had no purpose, no future, nothing to his name. It's not like he hasn't heard those words every day since his parents' deaths, so why not operate on a nobody? No one will care. No one will even notice.

His reflection in the mirror stares back at him. He barely recognizes himself. He's changed so much in just a few years that it's scary. The scar is the most prominent feature and always draws his attention when he looks into a mirror. Then there are the usual rings under his eyes from sleepless nights. Once or twice in the morning his eyes were red and puffy, but that was a rare occurrence. And there's the fact that he is a little thin. The clothes he has hangs on him loosely. That may be his fault since one in a while he will skip dinner to have some alone time, otherwise known as Peter's avoidance time when he doesn't want to deal with anyone.

His hair is still short, much to his annoyance. He wants it long again. It'll hide the scar that way. His uncle insisted that he keep it short. Long hair, apparently, made him appear dishevelled, and of course Uncle Robert couldn't have a dishevelled ward on his hands. Think of his reputation! It could have been ruined!

He shakes his head. No, he's not normal anymore and he never will be. His old self is dead. Nothing remains except a cold hard shell of the former Peter. He shouldn't even call himself Peter anymore if his old self is dead. He can give himself a new identity down here. No one really knows who he is. He can be who he wants to be. He'll grow out his hair to cover that ugly scar. Then he'll think up a new name for himself. Soon he'll be a brand new person.

Richard waits for Peter in the sub. Trevor is already settled in to start his first full day of work. Peter slips in quickly and sits down beside Richard. The sub hatch is closed and begins to dive for the fishery.

"Sleep in?" Richard asks.

Peter shakes his head. "It's nothing."

"You sure?"

He rolls his eyes. "I'm fine." Sometimes Richard can be a little smothering.

They reach the fishery and get out their equipment. Richard teaches Trevor how to gut fish and leaves the boy to do his own thing, while constantly watching him of course. He picks up his own knife and begins to gut the fish that are being spilled onto the table. It's all automatic now. He doesn't have to think about the actions. It's all so simple to him.

"Do you think the others will come here?" Peter asks.

Richard looks up from the table and across to Peter. "What do you mean?"

He flicks his eyes in the direction of Trevor, who is having troubles grasping the technique of sliding his knife in.

"No, no, no," Richard says and turns to the young boy. "Like this." He demonstrates the simple move by sliding his knife in by the head of the fish and sliding down to its tail. "See?" Trevor nods and goes back to his own fish.

Richard looks back at Peter. "What were you going to say?"

"Do you still write to the others?"

He nods. "All but Eli. I don't know where he is."

Peter nods. "Do you think the others will come to the home? Trevor did."

Richard shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not."

"What would you do if the others came here?"

He sighs. "I don't know."

"What if-"

Richard sighs again and sets down his knife with a loud thump. "Peter, stop. I'm not in the mood."

Peter mumbles something under his breath and turns his full attention back to his work. The rest of the day is quiet between the two. Richard doesn't know what to say to Peter right now on the subject of what if the others arrive. They can do whatever they want. It is no concern of Richard's. He's living his own life. They can live theirs. All he wants is to be left alone for the time being. With everything going on it has been quite stressful to Richard at the moment. Letters and dealing with distressed friends. Then there's the whole Elsa ordeal. Even though Elsa is somewhat accepting of what Richard is, he's still afraid that she might blab about it to everyone at the home. Knowing Elsa, there is a pretty good chance she might do that.

As the day goes on, Trevor's skill progresses. He's able to grasp the concepts of how to gut a fish properly. He complains about the smell, but not too loudly that everyone will hear. Mostly he stays quiet and frowns sometimes when someone speaks to him. He's just as socially awkward as Richard and Peter.

Eventually the work day ends and they go back to the home. Trevor is nearly asleep by the time the sub breaches the surface of the water. Richard nudges him gently. "Time to go," he says.

Trevor stretches and yawns. He gathers his stuff and clambers out of the sub. Richard follows him, making sure that the young boy didn't fall flat on his face. The first day is the toughest for everyone.

"Tired?" he asks.

Trevor nods. "Does it get easier?"

Richard nods. "After your first week, everything gets a lot easier. Just take your time. Don't rush it."

He nods again and stretches. "Hey, Richard?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the advice, and for all the help."

Richard blinks. "Yeah. No problem."

Outside on the dock, Richard finally finds some peace and quiet. There are a million thoughts running around in his mind and he can't seem to keep everything straight and in order. Everything seems to be a priority all at once. There's Gemma to worry about, all of his friends who talk to him through letters, Peter and Trevor, Elsa, and the fact that he hasn't heard a word from Eli. Eli has always been a worry. Perhaps he's dead. He's probably been dead for months and Richard is worrying about nothing. He loses sleep about it constantly. Some days he just doesn't want to have any of these worries. Maybe it's better to forget. Peter can always make him forget. He does have that hypnotism ability.

He sits down on the dock and dips his legs into the water. He lies down on his back and rubs his face. All he wants is sleep. He's so tired, so tired of everything. Problems keep popping up and they don't seem to go away. Someday Richard thinks all the burdens he has will sink him next time he goes for a dive.

The sounds of a heated argument float down to where he lies on the wooden planks. He doesn't catch any of the words since he is too far away, but the sound of skin meeting skin definitely catches his attention. Groaning, he sits up and rolls his shoulders before getting to his feet. He decides to pay a visit to this 'scuffle' to see if he can help solve it.

There indeed is a group of large men surrounding a slender younger man, near Richard's age. The three larger men close in around the younger man as they pin him against the wall of a supply shed.

"Where's the money?" one the men asks and holds a nasty looking hook in one hand.

"I can get it for you," the younger one replies. "I just need more time."

"We already gave it to you," another man says. "You owe us."

"Business is slow," the young says, trying to reason with the others. "Just give me two more days. I can get you your money by then. I just need time."

"Alright," the man with the hook says, "we'll give you your two days. But just so you remember your deal, we'll be taking a souvenir for the mean time." He puts his hook away and pulls out a wicked looking knife. The young man's hand is held out before the knife. The blade is placed just against the base of his peter pointer where palm meets finger.

Richard steps in. "Drop the knife," he says, low and deep.

"Leave it, kid," one man says. "This ain't your business."

"I said, drop the knife. I don't think Karen would be all that happy to have blood on her dock."

A man breaks away from the group and comes over to confront Richard. "And we said leave. This ain't your business."

Richard rolls his eyes pushes past the man to stop the knife before it goes any further. Before he can make his second step, he is pulled back by his shirt and is whirled around to meet a fist aimed for his face.

"Looks like you need to learn some manners." The man shakes out his fist. Richard only touches his split lip before retaliating with a well-aimed hit of his own right to the man's nose. With the shoveling of muck when he was young and the constant exercises he pushes himself to do, he successfully broke the man's nose. But the man is much tougher than he appears to be, and Richard realizes that.

Taking no chances, Richard charges the man and grips him around the waist before taking him off the dock and into the water below. In the water, Richard feels a little more comfortable. He dunks the man under the water and holds him there until he begins to flail his arms. He lets the man back up and drags him back onto the dock so that he can cough out all the water in his lungs.

With one man subdued, Richard stands and faces the others. They see what he did to their friend and decide to leave the young man alone. They take their water logged friend with them and leave the dock, disappearing into the night.

Richard steps towards the young man to see if he is alright. "Are you okay?" he asks.

The young man looks up and grins before nodding. Two teeth are missing from his set of almost perfect, white teeth. "Perfectly fine," he says.

The voice catches Richard off guard. He frowns and then looks at the young man again. He's a little bit thinner than they've last seen each other, of course that was over a year ago. His black hair is tangled and in a mess as usual, but it seems far worse than before.

"Eli? Is that you?"

Eli laughs. "I was wondering when you were going to notice," he says and steps away from the building he was cornered against. "Been a while, hasn't it?"

Richard nods. He's so stunned that Eli's here. He doesn't know what to say. 'Where have you been?"

"Don't you mean why haven't I written you any letters?" he asks and picks up a backpack that was probably tossed away when Eli was cornered by the three men.

"Kind of."

Eli shoulders the backpack. "I didn't have the resources."

"Why didn't you just ask someone from the boarding home you were in?"

He shakes his head. "You don't understand, Richard," he says and begins to walk off. "I never lived in a boarding home."

Eli walks off away from Richard. He follows, intending to get some information out from him. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Where have you been living for the past few months?"

"Years," Eli corrects. "I haven't lived in a boarding home in years."

This shocks Richard at first. He remembers back in Seablite Eli told him that he lived in a Commonwealth boarding home. If he hasn't been living in one for years, then how has Eli survived? By common logic he should be dead at least ten times by now. Life in the stack cities is tough, especially if you don't have a place to sleep for the night.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Richard asks. "I could've helped you out."

Eli shakes his head. "I ran away from the boarding homes when I was ten. I hated those places. Too many kids were crawling around and it didn't help that all the workers sucked at their jobs whenever one of us younger kids was being beaten on by the older kids. So I ran and never looked back, happy now, Richard?"

Eli stops walking and looks back at him. "I'm a street rat, Richard. I can take care of myself." He turns away again and begins to walk away.

"Trevor and Peter are here," Richard says. "The others aren't doing well either."

He stops again. "Where are they?"

Richard points back in the direction of the home. "There's this seaside home a little ways back. That's where we're staying for now."

He nods. "Lucky you. What about the others?"

"Still in the cities," he answers. "If you want, you can stay here. Karen won't mind. She cuts deals with people all the time."

Eli looks back in the direction of the home wistfully. Maybe he can stay for just one night. It would be nice to sleep on something other than tar on the rooftops or hard asphalt and concrete. He looks back at Richard. Maybe it's time to stop running. Maybe it's time to take a break from the street life.

"So who's the lady that makes the deals?" he asks.

Richard offers him a smile. "Right this way."