Strange Worlds [Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children] Enoch O'Connor

sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE FUTURE

After Miss Peregrine had sent us off for the day, we had found ourselves walking the back way towards the beach. The group was quite loud as the younger ones kept talking about how exciting it'd be to go to the beach with us. However, some of the younger members of the group couldn't help but remind the younger ones as Olive tried to remove her shoes that Miss Peregrine told us to not get into any trouble.

"Don't we have to pass town to reach the beach?" Jacob asked in sudden shock, gesturing at his and my clothing.

"Just hang a towel 'round you, so they don't see your -eh- future clothes." Horace said, "Besides, they won't remember." But his eyes travelled to my jean-clad legs. "You, on the other hand, are poorly dressed for a day out at the beach." He scolded.

A blush of embarrassment spread across my cheeks as I apologised, though I wasn't sure what for. It wasn't my fault that my clothes didn't match the present time. Someone Came up beside me and bumped my shoulder, a piece of cloth and towel being handed over. I looked up to see Fiona smiling down at me.

"Wrap the cloth around like a skirt. You won't bring attention towards your trousers that way." She said.

"Oh, thank you." I smiled and did as told, looking to the others who gave me nods of approval.

"Wait, then what do we wear when we swim then? We can't just wear our underwear. That's a little inappropriate for this time... it's it?" Jacob asked.

"That's all we wear." Fiona shrugged.

"It can't be anything different to wearing a bikini," I said with a shrug which earned questionable glances from the others except for Jacob.

I didn't know how much a simple statement could change the atmosphere quickly until I was asked what I meant. Upon getting an answer in return, they believed it was okay to continue asking more questions about the future since we were answering them. The questions they had to ask were all weird, such as; what was our world like? What do people eat, drink, wear? When would sickness and death be overcome with science? Though it was the questions about technology that genuinely amazed them.

As the beach neared, the younger of the group went barreling towards the water, stripping off their clothes as their feet touched the sand. I couldn't help but laugh as Fiona moved from my side to theirs like a flustered mother berating her young children. Hugh wasn't far behind on their heels.

Emma and Jacob were next to walk off, watching the group from the water's edge, the frothy sea lapping at their bare feet while Millard stripped of most of his clothes, which didn't include the lovely straw hat he so graciously wore atop his ashy curls.

Horace and Enoch both plopped themselves of the sand, fully clothed. One in his dapper suit and the other in slacks and suspenders atop a silken white dress shirt. They were defiantly the most well dressed of the group, though I couldn't help but notice the slight brown discolouration to the cuffs of Enoch's shirt.

I sighed at all the children who ran around in the sun, really believing that I would've been in our best interest to have grabbed sunblock before leaving the house that afternoon, but alas, our pasty skin would have to suffer.

Not sure on whether I wished to strip and have a play about in the water, I decided to sit myself down between the awkward gap between the two boys on the beach, taking out the towel I had borrowed beforehand and then making myself comfortable. I proceeded to pull out my sketch pad in the process of wondering how to ask Horace about Grandpa Portman.

"So, Horace..." I started towards the young blond as I rested my hand atop the empty page. He looked over towards me through spectacled eyes. "I was wondering what was your peculiarity?"

"I'm prophetic," he answered, then took a second to think it over before he continued realising that I wasn't exactly sure what prophetic meant and what he could do with such abilities, "I can see the future and project it." I nodded with a slight smile.

"So I guess nothing comes new to you, huh?" I laughed lightly.

"The night before you and Jacob showed, I had a prophetic dream of the two of you." He smiled. "So no, not really. Though sometimes they are just dreams, and I can't tell the differences at times."

"Your peculiarity is neat. Can I return mine without the gift receipt?" I joked.

"What?" Horace asked with a confused quirked brow. I then turned to Enoch, who supported a similar look, having stopped what he was previously doing to listen to what was happening within our conversation.

"Oh..." I let out, realising that they wouldn't understand what I meant, "What I mean is, I don't want my peculiarity, and I was asking if I could get rid of it."

"You can't just 'get rid' of a peculiarity," Enoch spoke up, venom on his tongue. I flinched at that, and his glare subsided as quickly as it came, his voice stumbling along as he tried to fix whatever he had broken within me. "Besides... Uh... your peculiarity is nice. It'd be odd to see what Millard looks like, and I'm sure more comes with it."

"Other than being scared to death? Yeah, cool." I rolled my eyes, pulling my knees up to my chest and resting my head on my knees as I looked out at the brown-headed boy playing with Olive. I wondered if seeing Millard was the only good thing I had going for me. What did Jacob even have?

"I'm sure you're more special than just seeing Millard," Enoch reassured again as, by now, I probably looked sulky. I turned my head, resting it on my knees still to see a somewhat sincere look on his face.

A scoff was heard from behind me, so I turned my head back to see Horace smirked at the interaction and sending Enoch an odd look that probably meant something to the older boy but meant nothing towards myself.

"Are you boys headed to the water?" I asked to change the heavy feeling that has seemed to wash over us.

"No." Horace almost barked out a laugh. If it weren't for his perfect act, I would have thought he might have laughed. "I don't swim."

"The water isn't clean," Enoch added.

"It's filled with the creature and their excretion." Horace nodded in agreement. I scrunched up my nose as I looked between them. Way to make the ocean seem unpleasant.

"Fair enough." I signed, uncurling my legs from my chest and fixing my open sketch pad on my lap again, starting to draw. Draw what, I wasn't sure. But suddenly, by hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and I was drawing. Not the ocean, nor the people before it, but of the boy who sat beside me, lying down on his side as he watched the children have fun without him.