Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

And that’s what we do. Otter follows me into the bathroom, and I have to stop my heart from tearing in two as I see the Kid curled up at the bottom of the bathtub, his hair falling over his face, his pajamas riding up one leg to reveal white skin. He shudders once, and I realize he must be cold. I can’t leave him in there anymore. I bend down and put my right arm under his legs and my left arm under his head and lift him up into me. God, he’s so little. So light. How could something that weighs so little mean so much? I don’t have an answer to that question, even though it seems like it’s all I can think about. I watch him as I walk down the hallway of the Green Monstrosity, and I think he might wake, but he just mutters to himself and rolls his head over and buries it against my chest. There’s a huff, then, and a sigh, and he relaxes. I pass his room with a look, and Otter doesn’t say anything. I know he’s fine with this. I put the Kid in our bed and pull the covers up and over his shoulders to keep him warm. Otter hands me my pajama shorts and we change in the dark, not speaking, but somehow knowing what each other would say if we did.

I crawl in beside the Kid and Otter follows me in, and we pull the covers up and over our heads for the Cave of Bear and Otter, but now made for Bear, Otter, and the Kid. He spoons up behind me as I reach over to brush a fallen lock of hair off the Kid’s forehead. The last thing I remember is the way the moonlight falls across my little brother’s face, allowing me to see him clearly one last time before I fall asleep. It’s enough, for now.

I’M AWAKENED to sounds of the bedroom TV quietly playing CNN in the background and Otter snoring loudly in my ear, his arm laying heavy on my side. I crack open an eye and find the Kid watching me.

“You came home,” he says finally, his voice betraying nothing. “I thought you’d be back this afternoon.”

“We decided we’d rather be here.” I yawned, stretching to allow my back to pop. Getting old sucks.

“Mrs. Paquinn didn’t call you or anything?”

“About what, Kid?”

He shrugs. “Kinda had a bad night.”

I pat the pillow next to my head, and he sighs as he lays back down, his little hands tucked under his cheek as he faces me, his nose inches from mine. “Why was it a bad night?” I ask him.

He reaches out and touches my cheek, my forehead, my hair. “Just got scared, I guess. I don’t know. It was stupid.”

“Earthquakes?” I ask him ligh

tly.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I didn’t feel good, and I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know you didn’t, Kid,” I say as his hand comes down to play with my fingers, an action so like him that it causes the breath to be knocked from my chest. “Why’re you scared?” I manage to get out.

He rolls his eyes but can’t seem to look at me. “It’s dumb,” he mutters.

“I’m a smart person. I know things a lot of other people don’t. I could do everything they throw at me at school with my eyes closed and still do better than everyone else. So I don’t know why I get like this, that I think these dumb things. But I can’t get them out of my head, and it hurts.”

I grow concerned. “Like, you have headaches?”

He shakes his head as he picks at my fingernail. “No it’s… hard to explain, Papa Bear. It’s like… you know how you get sometimes, when a thought gets in your head and you can’t get it out, and Otter and me make fun of you for it because you never end up making sense when you speak?”

“I’m aware of this, yes,” I say dryly, only to see a sliver of a smile ghost its way across his lips before it disappears.

“It’s kind of like that. I know you won’t leave me. I know Otter won’t leave us. I’m smart. I’m rational. But… it just gets in there, and sometimes I don’t know what’s real or not. It’s like I can’t breathe, and I get scared because I don’t know what I’d do without you, Bear. I think I’d just lie down and die.”

Ah, fuck me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I tell him roughly, grabbing his hand between my own. “I don’t know what it’ll take to make you believe me, but I’ll do it. I don’t care what it takes, Tyson. You tell me what I need to do and nothing will stop me from doing it.”

He sighs as he watches me. “I know, Bear. Don’t you think I know that?

I do, I promise I do. I’m just broken, I guess.”

I kiss the back of his hand. “You’re not broken, Kid. You’re just a little guy. You’re just a little guy, and I’ve probably pushed us too fast. Moving and school. That whole thing with Anna. Mom. Otter. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how you’ve done as well as you have. It seems like everything is going so well that sometimes I forget you’re not used to things like this, that you had things the way you like them, and I had to go and change everything.”

He looks slightly panicked. “We don’t have to move again, do we? I like it here, Bear! I don’t want to go back to that stupid apartment. I like my room! I like Otter being here every day and Dominic being right down the road. I promise I won’t get upset again, Bear! I don’t want to move.” By the end, his breath was catching in his chest, his face red, eyes wide. I drop his hands and cup his face, holding him still so he won’t try and squirm away.

“Now, you listen here, Tyson,” I say, doing my best to sound like Otter.

“We’re not going anywhere, okay? I like our house too, and I like my room and Dominic and I happen to love the guy that sounds like he’s growling behind me. We can’t leave. There’s other people that depend on us now, other people that need us. What do you think would happen if we just left?

Dominic would be pissed off because he needs you, because you’re his best friend. Otter needs us because we’re his family now. Did I tell you he said that? He told me he’s proud that he has his very own family now, one that he doesn’t have to share with anyone else.

“There’s always been you and me, Kid, and I’ve always done my best to make sure you’re okay, and you’ve always done the same for me. And I think we did fine, the way we were. But that wasn’t living, Tyson. That was getting by. And you don’t deserve that kind of life. And I’m starting to think I don’t, either. We’ve got people now, people that will be sad if we’re gone, people who want us around. I don’t think I understood what that meant.