The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter twenty six - i feel like i'm just treading water

Chapter twenty six - i feel like i'm just treading water... is it the same for you?

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It was disconcerting how easy it was to get to the cove of Parade Island once we had cleared the rocks. There were no other obstacles, or traps, or warnings to deter us. Nothing but a great wrought iron gate, suffocated with wildflowers and bedded under layers of trodden sand, not hidden at all but clear and stark against the oddly sweet aloofness of the rest of the island. Behind the gates lay a tangled jungle of untouched plants, untamed vines and unconstrained trees. Human hands had yet to mangle this guarded sanctuary.

The air of nervous joy that lay in a heavy aura around Gerard pained me just a little. I knew it should have lifted me to see him happy, to recall that I was doing this for him, but I just felt wrong. If this failed, then he would lose a chance to see his brother again, and he would lose me too. I knew that Michael would be a much more devastating and higher regarded loss, and I knew that it would most likely destroy Gerard completely if his hope was crumbled into dust yet again, and I didn't want to be a part of that. I didn't want to be at fault, whether I'd actually be able to comprehend that with my crumpled mind or not.

But Gerard had cared for his brother so much. I couldn't imagine how it must feel to lose someone so close to you as a child. Of course I would try, at least try.

"Frank." Dewees' voice. I turned around, the wind rushing in my ears and Dewees rushing on his feet to reach me. His boots ploughed through the sand, spraying the hem of his coat with murky beige, and his hair was plastered down over his forehead, damp with sea spray. "Frank, wait." He seemed to pause, but perhaps it was just my mind pausing for my own benefit, to give me a brief moment to prepare myself for what the words Dewees was about to speak. "Don't do it."

"What?"

Dewees made a strangled groaning noise in frustration. "You're going to lose your mind, you fucker."

"But Gerard–"

"Gerard's having second thoughts. I think he's gradually regaining sanity. He doesn't think he wants you to do this."

"Dewees, his brother–"

"His brother is not here. You are, and you're real, and he wants you with him."

I exhaled. "Then why doesn't he just tell me this himself? I swear to god, if you're making this up–"

"He knows you're still going to do it, whether he asks you to or not."

I closed my mouth at that. How could he know that when I wasn't even sure of it?

Then again. I supposed it wasn't difficult to deduce. The chance of getting Michael back would make Gerard far happier than I ever could alone.

"Surely just a small part of him still wants me to do it," I defended quietly.

Dewees shook his head. His eyes looked blunt and dulled. He knew I wasn't going to back down.

"Just a very tiny part?"

That didn't even stir a response. My eyes caught on Gerard, tiptoeing over the sandy rocks by a flat grey cliff face. A few lilac wildflowers grew in the silver dust at the base of the low cliff, and Gerard knelt down to admire them. I tore my eyes away.

The gates loomed over me before I could really register that I'd walked over to them. The sun streamed across the island, bleaching the ground and spiralling dark, trembling shadows over the white sand, and over my hands, pallid in the faint blue glow of the ocean.

I didn't do anything. I didn't know what I was actually supposed to do. I merely looked up, and the gates were parting with a rusty screeching sound, tearing deep trails in the sand and shredding the stones scattered in their path.