Dents

[+] Revolving Doors

The tram was deserted.

The sun that once clung proudly to the sky crawled beneath the horizon hours ago. We stayed at the fairground long after it closed, a privilege granted only to the son of its keeper. 2D decided that it was time to head home when I couldn't suppress my yawns any longer.

I was disappointed, but I also knew that Mr. Pot couldn't go home either until we left. I didn't want to set a bad impression. Especially not after my bizarre introduction that afternoon.

I leaned my head on 2D's shoulder. My eyelids fluttered. I fought desperately against the urge to fall asleep. I didn't want the day to end so soon.

"Yew awake?"

His voice was hushed, careful not to rouse me if I had passed out. From his position, he was only able to see the top of my head and a long clump of hair that had fallen in front of my face. I reached up to tuck it out of the way.

"Yeah, I'm awake."

2D smiled at me sheepishly. The flickering virescent lights of the tram bathed everything in a sickly shade of green. He was as charming as ever despite it.

The car screeched upon the railway. The sound became a murmur in the backdrop the longer I looked at him. The scenery out the grimy window flicked by like a movie reel. The places we passed faded away like burnt up film.

He made a face like he was trying to say something.

"What is it?" I asked.

2D chewed anxiously on the tip of his tongue. His brow furrowed.

"Et's jus', well... Yew neva told me anyfink 'bout yewr family befo'. I know yew're from Ireland 'n all, bu' yew 'aven't told me much else," he said.

"If yew don't want to tell me, et's alrigh'."

His voice held a low timbre. He sounded a little sad.

"There's not much to tell, really."

I hoped that it was a reasonable enough answer to comfort him. It was the only answer I had. There was not much to tell because I hardly remembered any of it.

He frowned. I could tell that I had inadvertently hurt him. The anxiety in my heart suddenly felt like a thousand needles stabbing into me at once.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, or anything. I don't have anything to tell. I don't remember much at all."

The sadness dissolved from his eyes. It was replaced with confusion. His black voids swirled in contemplation.

"Wha' do yew mean?"

"Well, what I said, I guess. I don't remember my mom, or my dad. Or if I had any siblings, or what my house looked like, even," I sighed.

"It wasn't always like this. It seems to have gotten worse than it was, since I don't remember anything now. I was pretty sure I did, though, once."

"Saoirse, yew don't rememba anyfink befo'... "

He trailed off. I could imagine the next words out of his mouth. I didn't want to actually hear them spoken aloud. He knew that.

"Right. Nothing before that. Well, not nothing, but nothing significant."

"Yew do rememba somefink, then?"

"Yeah."

I gazed forward listlessly.

"Some things. We lived on a hill. There was this huge prairie there, and I would play in it all the time. A lot of other kids would play there too. I tried to steer clear of them. I'm not really sure why. I think I sort of just liked being alone there, you know? The sound of the birds, and the bugs, and the grass blowing in the wind. It was nice."

2D nodded, urging me to continue. I was sorry to disappoint him. I had nothing further to say.

"That's it. That's all."

"How 'bout yewr mum 'n dad?"

I was perplexed by the question. It was very forthcoming. It was unusual for 2D to be so direct. 

"I'm sorry, Saoirse. Yew already told me yew don't know."

The pain in his eyes returned. With it, my lungs twisted into a bundle of tightly wound knots.

"I jus'... I jus' fink it'd be nice to meet 'em, is all," he mumbled.

I wanted that, too.

The difficult part was that I had no recollection of who they were. I didn't know how I could so much as start trying to find them when I had nothing to serve as a lead.

A small, frightened part of me was mortified at the thought of ever looking them in the eye again. Maybe one day I could. I didn't feel ready. I tried to suffocate that fraction of myself, to drown the voice that begged me to let the past fade away. Regardless of what I wanted, the feeling lingered. I was incapable of eliminating it entirely.

2D's solemn voice called out to me from where I dwelled in the recesses of my mind.

"Yew fink if yew eva rememba I could meet yewr dad, too?"

"Yeah," I replied, "I'd like that."

I couldn't deny that something felt wrong about what I'd said. I was overwhelmed with the sensation that 2D could not meet him. It distressed me to no end. I'd certainly meant what I said, but it wasn't right. Something wasn't right.

A pang of grief ripped through me.

I remembered.

"Actually, uh, no. I'm sorry."

2D looked dejected.

"S'alright," he responded.

He observed me quietly for a moment, his hand that had once stroked my arm now weak and unmoving. His eyes were begging me to answer a question he didn't have the courage to ask.

"I'm sure he would've liked you plenty, 'D."

"Wha's 'at supposta mean?"

A look of remorse cast over him.

"Oh... I'm sorry, luv."

"It's fine. Really. It was a long time ago."

At least, I got the feeling that it was a long time ago.

"Yew know wha' he was like?"

"Yeah," I smiled, "He was kind of a hard ass. But good, I think. I remember him that way."

I didn't want to tell 2D that my dad probably would have found his mop of blue hair ridiculous, and his eyes as those of a demon come to snatch away his daughter in the night. I also knew that once they'd been acquainted, they'd have gotten on well enough.

2D was silent. It wasn't a speechless sort of silence. It was patient.

"He got really sick. I was pretty small. I don't remember how old. It tore my mom to pieces, when he died. That's what sticks with me the most."

2D wrapped his arm around my shoulders. He bit his bottom lip. His expression was one of concern. Instead of trying to find words, he communicated his empathy through the gentle hold he had on me. 

My body ached with sorrow. No tears ever came. I was afraid that I'd forgotten too much to care. I worried what sort of person that would make me if I had.

"Saoirse... If yew rememba anyfink else, could yew tell me?"

"Yeah. Sure."