The Wizard's Herbarium: The Wolf Child

Part 43

He'd heard that rehabilitation always went in a cycle. In the restaurant industry, the abuse of drugs and alcohol were common, and Colt had heard about the rehabilitation process: breakdown, rehabilitation, more breakdown and more rehabilitation. He was going through the same thing. Some days Colt felt as though he had the power to take on the world - he could do this, he could overcome losing his sight and live a normal life. He was invincible. But then there were the lows that felt so low. His body was heavy and it was hard for him to move around. He just didn't have the energy. It was all about baby steps and taking it slow.

The mandatory evacuation ended and permission was granted for everyone to go back home. Colt was eager to get back and see (making jokes about his situation helped him feel better) the damage that had or hadn't been done to the restaurant. There was much confusion about how far the fire had reached and no one really had a clear answer. All that was left was to go back.

Colt took the shuttle they were providing back into town. When he got there, he had no way of assessing where he was or the damage that had been done. As he'd been learning to do, Colt stood and listened to those around him.

The town hadn't been hit by the fires. Nothing was gone and nothing was burned down. Thank god. Colt wouldn't have known what to do if the restaurant he'd been in the process of purchasing was suddenly burned down to the ground by the higher powers that apparently hated his guts. It brought some hope to him, that maybe everything would be okay after all. With his luck, Colt expected everything to have gone to hell and then some.

He stood there, in the middle of the street, or wherever the shuttle had dropped him off, likely looking like an idiot. Colt was learning that there were worse things than looking dumb, things like falling on his face when he tripped over something on the ground that he couldn't frickin' see. Worse than looking like an idiot would be a broken nose. So, he stood there, trying to get his bearings and decide what to do next. He didn't technically own the restaurant yet, and so he felt bad going there. To the previous owners, he'd look even more like a big-shot coming to check on his investment, and while he knew that wasn't his intention, no one else the town knew that. Colt would have to earn their trust. So, it was best to stay away for now. Maybe he would follow his doctor's advice and go back to the city. He knew people there, people who could help him overcome this.

They didn't help you overcome the death of your son, his mind supplied unhelpfully. Would the people who cared about him really help, or would they just feel sorry for him? He didn't want to be pitied.

Well, he couldn't just stand there forever deliberating his life choices, could he?