Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

Every day after school, the Kid would walk in with whoever had picked him up that day, knowing I couldn’t leave, that I wouldn’t leave. He watched me with quiet eyes, his anger faded, his lips in a thin line across his face. Every day he came was the same. He’d find me in Otter or Mrs.

Paquinn’s room. He’d watch me from the doorway for a few moments. He’d walk in and push my hand out of my lap and crawl up and wrap his arms around my neck. He’d take my arm and bring up my fingers and press them against his chest. I’d feel his heartbeat. It was strong. It was alive. He’d whisper soft things in my ear, reassurances that sounded real coming from him. He’d feel me start to shake, and he’d wrap his other arm around my neck and pull my head down and allow me to lose myself against his shoulder, against his neck. I didn’t grieve around anyone except for him.

Around the others, it would seem like I was weak. Around the others, it wouldn’t seem like I was strong enough.

But him. Around him, I could let it out.

Doctors came and went. Nurses came and went. Friends and family came and went. Erica Sharp, to whom I quietly handed the custody paperwork, came, her eyes going wide as she flipped through it, questions unanswered as I walked away. Jordan and the bar gang showed up and stood quietly around me and Otter, not saying much. David Trent looked lost, but composed himself after he caught me watching him and told me not to worry about Tyson at school. That the faculty knew what had happened and were making allowances for the Kid. I nodded once and looked away.

I hadn’t spoken much since my mother left. I didn’t know what else there was to say. Life had entered into a stasis, and everything stood still. I began to hate the white walls that surrounded me, the rooms that held my family. I knew the doctors and nurses by name, and their faces began to irritate me. They looked at me with such sadness, such pity, and I wanted them gone. I’d become a fixture in those two rooms. I cleaned myself in the bathroom sink. I wore the clothes that were brought to me from the Green Monstrosity. I picked at the food that was put in front of me. I was dazed.

Lost, confused. Something had to happen.

On the evening of the sixth day, Creed, Anna, and Isaiah appeared in Otter’s doorway, determined and seemingly united. I ignored them until it became impossible.

“What?” I growled at them.

“Bear, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Creed said, sounding upset. “You need to step away for a little bit. Get some air. You’re killing yourself being here. It’s killing you, Papa Bear.”

I shook my head. “Can’t leave. If something happens and I’m not here, I’ll never forgive myself. And I’d never forgive anyone who made me walk away.” This last came out like the threat it was meant to be.

Anna tried then. “Just a walk around the hospital,” she said gently, reaching out to stroke my arm. “Just for a few minutes. You can’t keep this up, Bear. Not if you want to stay in control.”

“I am in control,” I told them, even though they looked like they didn’t believe me. “I’m strong. I’m the strong one.”

Isaiah hunkered down at my side while Creed stared down at his brother. “Bear, I’ll stay here with him. Let Creed and Anna take you out for a bit. Keep your phone on you, and if anything changes, I’ll call you right away, okay?”

Something struck me as wrong. “Where’s the Kid?” I snapped at them.

“The Kid was supposed to be with one of you. And who’s with Mrs.

Paquinn? Did you just fucking leave her alone? You know she doesn’t like to be alone at night. Why isn’t anyone with her?” My chest started to heave.

“The Kid is with my parents and Dominic at the Green Monstrosity,”

Anna said, trying to soothe me by brushing her hands through my hair. “And Alice and Jerry are with Mrs. Paquinn.”

“You know,” Creed said, still watching his brother, “you’re not the only one hurting here, Bear. You’re not the only one who’s breaking.” His words were quiet, his voice harsh. “You’re not the only one who stands to lose.

Otter is my brother. Mrs. Paquinn is my friend. We all care about them, we all love them, so this isn’t just you. It’s never just you. You need to stop taking everything on. It’s what you always do. You can’t always be the strong one. You need to learn that this is about all of us.”

His words. His words were so like his brother’s the day he’d brought me to our new house for the first time. His words, while not exactly like Otter’s, carried the same cadence, the same lilt to the syllables. I looked up at him and saw the faded gold in green as he glanced at me. I couldn’t say no to that. Not when he looked so much like his brother that I felt torn apart.

“Five minutes,” I agreed against my better judgment.

They all looked relieved.

It was cold outside, a light mist falling, illuminated by the light posts in the parking lot. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt up and over my head, the ring on my left hand scraping the shell of my ear. Anna was on my left, Creed on my right. Anna put her arm through mine, and after a moment, Creed did the same. We walked up and down the parking lot aisles, first on

e, then another, and then a third.

Finally: “I told Creed,” Anna said.

Fuck. I’d forgotten. With everything else, I’d forgotten. I was such an asshole. “Yeah?” was all I could think of to say.

“Yeah,” Creed sighed. “Kind of a clusterfuck, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Everything at once. We don’t do anything halfway, do we?”