Truth

22.Tarim

My fist knocked hard on his door, as I pushed another cigarette between my lips. It didn't taste bad anymore, it tasted good. Like I'd been waiting all my life and finally I'd found it. I couldn't explain.

A familiar tan face emerged. Tarim.

"Rowan! I swear to God I thought you died or somethin' fallen off the edge of the world an' that."

"I need your help." I interrupted. His revelations weren't my main concern at this moment in time. "I can't find my brother, he's not at home, he must have moved out but I need to find him."

"Come in." He gestured.

I'd never properly been in Tarim's room. It was light, with light walls and white sheets and everything neatly put away; it felt clean and modern and calming, in a new city sort of way.

He sat on his desk and looked right at me. "Where migh' he be?" He asked.

"Is that all you've got? You have to be joking." I said. "If that's it, I'd bes' be on my own for this. Like, I can leave."

"No, Rowan, I'm trying to get the ball rollin'. Just work with me here, rather than agains' me."

"This is stupid. I feel like some eight year old playing at cracking a mystery in his back garden. I need to find my brother, not be in some joke what you could tell your kids."

"Just think where he might go, like a shop he loved or a park he liked. You could go there, show people a photo of him to see if they recognized him or something." Tarim suggested.

"I don't have any photos of him." I said. "Only old ones of when we were kids."

"Oh, well we could see if they knew him by name. Or look for him ourselves, you know what he looks like and you could always just describe him to me."

"He looks like Steven, that's it." I said. "This already seems hopeless, and it's been what? Two, three minutes?"

"Positivity, Rowan." Tarim nagged. I rolled my eyes and sat on his floor with my back against his wardrobe. I pushed the tip of my cigarette into my shoe and held it in my fingers. It was old but Tarim's room was so clean, I didn't want to drop it on the floor. But he gestured to his bin, so I threw it in accurately.

"Look let's just google search his name." Tarim said. I sighed, and nodded. He pulled out his laptop and typed quickly. I just stared at the ceiling feeling dizzy.

"Steven Ray, right?" He asked. I nodded and made a vague 'mhmm' noise.

"Rowan, is this him?" He asked slowly. I looked at his screen.

It was a news site, about a car crash. Steven's face was there, along with Ellen's and dad's. I read the article:

DISASTER CRASH ENDS IN FATALITIES OF FAMILY

A FAMILY OF THREE ON TRAVEL TO STADIUM CRASH WITH LARGE 40 TONNE TRUCK KILLING THE TRIO INSTANTLY. NO OTHER FAMILY REMAIN EXCEPT ONE ADOPTED SON WHOSE IDENTITY WILL NOT BE ENCLOSED.