Author's Preface
The 2000s
For certain members of the misfits five of Wallace—the most pivotal moments of their lives to spark the most hardship and change happened during the December after their high school graduation.
Long before the time of the new flock cameras, the new roads, the 5G towers, the Gas Express, and the Endzone—the five of them enjoyed their last summer together after marching off from the high school on that fateful day in late May. At first, it worked out just as Octavia hoped it would; calls and texts remained routine, meetups were weekly whenever they could not be daily, and most of the time, when a weekend hangout was arranged—it would land everyone in Pineview, in Mohinder’s big, comfortable home in the suburbs, enjoying movies, games, and the occasional hideaway in the basement so Samuel, Eli, and Hailey could pass a joint around. Mohinder’s parents grew accustomed to seeing the misfits arrive unannounced and treating the place as their second home, and for months after graduation, this was everyday life.
But, as autumn drew near, and at the winds of change treaded ever closer—life came knocking on their doors, and the next steps into their adulthood could not be ignored any longer, particularly not for Mohinder himself.
It was during this time when Samuel and Hailey were undergoing greater stress at home; their mother and their older sister returned home from their latest stay in rehab in September, and between working their new jobs and paying the bills mostly by themselves, the Ryder siblings were tasked with watching over their recovering family members and ensuring that no dealers or temptations arrived to ruin them once more.
Octavia’s mother was making plans to move out of town, much to Octavia’s chagrin; she spent a lot of her time now surfing the internet and trying to find the best job she could so she might be able to stay in Wallace on her own and support herself.
Eli and his mother felt rather alone on Vernon Avenue; with other family members slowly moving out of the neighborhood, and with one cousin of Eli’s about to get married, Eli felt as if he and his mom were being left behind, and his drive to escape that neighborhood became even more impassioned.
And beyond the reach of them all—Mohinder had the grants, the acceptance, and the classes lined up to start college during the fall semester. He even had it arranged so he could live on campus, since the school was outside of his home state, and his parents were delighted by it, though the same couldn’t be said for his friends. It wasn’t as if the others were upset by it—they had simply fallen out of touch since the end of the summer, and no one knew what was going on with everyone else. All of them had new things unfolding in their lives, and the routine of everyone congregating together in Pineview faded into memory.
Octavia found herself rather depressed during the fall and winter months thereafter. She went to interviews, and she tried very hard to find a job near her house, but without a car of her own, it seemed no place would hire her—and this was rather devastating. She did not want to leave home. Even with her friends having fallen off the radar, part of her believed they would gravitate together again someday—besides, she didn’t know any place like she knew Wallace. The mere thought of leaving was enough to make her eyes water.
When December arrived—Samuel and Hailey were both working minimum wage jobs, both doing nearly all their housework alone, and both nearing their breaking points with their mother and sister, who had fallen back into their drug routines and their habits of starting fights with neighbors. It became a common sight to arrive home at night and see flashing red and blue lights outside of their trailer.
Eli was in a similar situation; the siblings, Jamal and Tanya, as well as their friend and neighbor, Daniel, were practically watching Eli’s house from across the street every day, waiting for him to leave home so they could follow and harass him. With so much of the Riley family having moved out of the neighborhood, Eli’s enemies seemed confident and emboldened in their efforts to senselessly target him now.
Mohinder, however, was enjoying his first semester of college, making new friends and getting fantastic grades in all of his classes. He didn’t return to Wallace until the week of Christmas—a week that would mark grave, intense change for the five in ways they couldn’t hope to see.
After arriving at the airport on this cold afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Talavar spotted him in the lobby and rushed over to him, taking turns pulling him into hugs.
Mohinder laughed and placed his bags down for a moment, returning their embraces before they slowly made their way out of the building, all of them looking forward to spending Mohinder’s Christmas break together.
Mrs. Talavar’s tan SUV was sitting in the roundabout just outside, waiting welcomingly for them. Mohinder moved to the back and placed his bags in the trunk before climbing into the back seat, his parents in the front, and then they drove off.
Mohinder shivered in the back, leaning forward in between the two front seats. “Turn the heat on, please…”
Mrs. Talavar, plump and sweet with a jovial face, glanced back at him and laughed. “Why didn’t you bring a coat? It’s about fifteen degrees outside.”
“I did bring one… just didn’t wear one,” Mohinder chuckled.
“Well… now you’ll know better the next time you fly back here in the dead of winter,” Mr. Talavar remarked, laughing and strapping his seatbelt on in the driver’s seat.
“Well, sorry… I didn’t anticipate feeling much of the breeze on the flight,” Mohinder quipped in response. “And I think they probably would’ve been pretty upset if I tried to…”
Mrs. Talavar sniggered as they rolled out of the parking lot, turning around in the passenger seat and reaching back, gently placing a hand to her son’s face.
“You look just like your father at eighteen,” she told him.
Mohinder’s brows raised, looking to the back of the driver seat. “Really? What happened?”
Mrs. Talavar’s mouth fell open, and she gave him a playful slap on the cheek. “Don’t be so mean.”
Mohinder snickered.
“You’re gonna be a little heartbreaker… just like he was,” Mrs. Talavar commented, facing forward again. “You’ve got all the same handsome features, and the big innocent eyes…”
“Oh, he’s already a heartbreaker,” Mr. Talavar said knowingly, glimpsing at his son through the rearview. “Aren’t you?”
“No… come on, now,” Mohinder uttered, shaking his head. “I’ve barely made new friends there. I haven’t gotten much farther than that with people. It’s been all schoolwork, mostly.”
“Well… you’re gonna find that life is more than schoolwork,” Mr. Talavar remarked. “Not that school isn’t important, but… life isn’t gonna wait for you to be done with it, y’know?”
Mohinder’s eyes narrowed. “You talk more and more like an American the longer we’re here.”
Mr. Talavar laughed. “I’m assimilated. Sue me.”
“Be careful, love,” Mrs. Talavar said softly, reaching over and placing a hand on her husband’s arm, gazing out the windshield at the intersection before them. “There’s ice on the roads over here, remember…”
“I knooow,” Mr. Talavar replied dismissively, easing to a stop behind a pickup truck at the red light.
“No, life won’t wait for schoolwork to be done… but I can kick-start a good life if I prioritize it now,” Mohinder said.
“Well… you’re right,” Mrs. Talavar said, turning back around and wearing her warm, maternal smile. “That’s why we sent you there in the first place… and becoming a doctor is a solid foundation for the future. We just don’t want you to let life pass you by while you’re striving toward your goals, dear.”
Mohinder stared at her, unsure of what exactly she meant, but he made a mild nod. “I won’t…”
The light turned green, and the pickup truck in front of them began to cruise forward.
Mr. Talavar gently rolled onward as well, and as this moment came to be—a moment as ordinary as any other, with the afternoon winter overcast in the sky outside, with the heat turned up and blasting comfortably out of the vents, with the radio softly playing Christmas music, and with his parents sitting happily in the front of the SUV like they had so many times before—Mohinder could not have known that this instance was one of finality, the very last time that a normal moment with his parents would ever be allowed to transpire.
Just as the SUV drove steadily and carefully through the heart of the intersection—
“WATCH OUT!” Mrs. Talavar screamed—
BANG—SMASH.
At once—everything was ripped away.
A massive truck flew down the road from the right—unable to stop on the ice—and it smashed ruthlessly into the SUV at top speed—sending the vehicle spinning and rolling down the intersection and landing upside-down on the icy roadside afar.
Mohinder couldn’t see—couldn’t process or comprehend a thing. Everything was torn from his awareness in an instant—everything but that sound, a sound that would never leave his memory for twenty long years, the horrid smashing and crunching of the front end of the car.
He had no clue at all how much time passed by before he was able to see, blinking his vision as straight as he could, the wind knocked out of him, the blistering winter air consuming him. He found himself lying on the pavement… outside, somehow…
Wincing terribly, he let out a pained grunt, rolling onto his side and trying his best to look around, to observe or understand anything that had just transpired. His arm ached horribly, his head spinning, ears still ringing—but he managed to roll onto his stomach, propping one hand to the freezing concrete, raising his head and gazing out past his disheveled hairs.
Then—he stopped cold.
The SUV had rolled into the adjacent intersection road, which had been empty before, now filled with cars and people leaping out of them, rushing to the scene with urgency—but his eyes were only trained on the overturned vehicle directly in his sight, the tan SUV, sitting on its rooftop that was partially collapsed inward, the front end totally crushed and destroyed, folds of fiberglass and metal as smoke arose from the destroyed parts underneath, the back door hanging open, presumably where he was thrown out with the impact—and in the decimated and collapsed area that was once the two front seats, he saw them, mangled, shattered, crushed, and twisted, one head dislocated at the spine and hanging atop the other’s malformed shoulder.
Mohinder stared, unable to tear his eyes from them.
Minutes passed, or perhaps seconds, or hours…
He lowered his head at some point, staring instead at the concrete, entirely blind to the throbbing in his arm or the frostbite gnawing at his hands and fingers. Everything simply left him—no thought, no feeling, nothing whatsoever.
A woman ran up to him, asking if he was okay and reaching out to him, and a nearby man yelled for her not to touch him, as the ambulance was on its way.
Within what felt like milliseconds—the ambulance was there, parked on the roadside with its lights flashing red and white. Now, all of a sudden, there was a crowd around him—but Mohinder didn’t move, didn’t react, and didn’t say a word. He remained lying still, forehead pressed to his fist, gazing endlessly into the pavement beneath him.
Eventually, an EMT reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder—and he suddenly jolted back to life.
“Get off me!” Mohinder shouted hoarsely, looking up and jabbing a finger at the overturned vehicle. “Go get them!”
The two EMTs standing over him traded faces, then looked to the SUV, both of them wearing the same grim visage. Then, they hunched down and attempted to gently turn him over again—and he smacked their hands away.
“Get away from me! GO GET THEM!” Mohinder roared, flumping onto his back and swatting at them—and he instantly winced, clasping his arm and lying fully back, resting his head to the concrete.
The EMTs backed away and stepped over to the ambulance, retrieving the stretcher and rolling it over to him.
Mohinder heaved several rushed breaths, his mind blank, a white hot adrenaline seeming to spark inside—and he planted his hand to the pavement and forced himself to sit up, wincing again as he staggered to his feet.
He then turned—facing the SUV and taking a step toward it.
“No—hey,” one EMT said, planting a hand on his shoulder and blocking his path. “You need to go to the hospital, now stop moving around—”
“Why won’t you just go to them?!” Mohinder snapped at him furiously. “Look at me! I’m walking! I’m fine! They need you more than I do! ”
The EMT’s face fell stoic, and what he said next would stay with Mohinder forever.
“They’re gone , son,” he said with grave finality.
Mohinder recoiled, staring at him in a dazed, adrenalized shock—and at once, everything inside him vanished once more, every thought, feeling, and action, every last part of him shutting down entirely.
He didn’t know what happened next, or how he ended up on the stretcher. He had no memory of riding in the back of the ambulance, staring up at its ceiling with a hazy, distant stare.
Hours passed him by before any shred of awareness slowly began to return to him.
When it did—his final clear memory remained that EMT’s face, with the brown eyes, the goatee, and the hard, dark solidity in his words. He couldn’t know or care how long he lay in his hospital bed, his pain thickening, then fading when given painkillers, his arm in a cast, and his stare as dead as ever.
Sometime in the evening, when he was discharged with nothing more than a fracture in his forearm, he meandered outside into the freezing winter night in a daze, unsure of where to go, and not caring to go anywhere at all.
Because, quite honestly, it didn’t matter anymore.
It felt truly and genuinely like nothing did, or ever could again.
On this very same night—yet another dramatic scene had unfolded in Graceview Trailer Park.
The eldest sibling, Amy—alongside their mother, Tina—were staggering back in the living room as Samuel advanced on them, both of them being cornered by the front door with the diamond-shaped window.
“Get—the fuck out!” Samuel bellowed in a rage. “I am sick of coming home to some bullshit every day! I’m not gonna fucking put up with it anymore! ”
“You can’t kick us out!” Amy cried, her hair wild and her mascara running, just like her mother’s. “We don’t have anywhere to go!”
“Yeah—cry me a river, worthless bitch,” Samuel snarled through gritted teeth, advancing on her. “You two wanna start drinking and shooting up again—then go right the fuck ahead—but you’re not gonna take that shit into Hailey’s room and try and get her fucking hooked on it too! ”
Hailey stood sheepishly behind Samuel, frowning sadly at the entire situation.
Tina rolled her neck, shooting her son a snide look. “Do you really think you’re allowed to kick us out? Get off your fuckin’ high horse, you fuckin’ mistake.”
“Hey—hey—bitch-face, listen,” Samuel breathed, clapping directly in front of her face. “Guess what? My name is on the lease now—because guess what? I’m the one paying all the bills now, and the landlord don’t see you as nothing but a fucking liability! So you can call the cops and fight it all you want—but I don’t give a good goddamn! You can do all that shit after you go out the fucking door! I will kill you before I let you stay here another fuckin’ night! Now get out! ”
Amy and Tina gave him a long, hesitant look, each of them looking as unmoved as they did apathetic, neither of them caring about all of the trouble they had caused, no hint of remorse on either of their faces.
“Call Uncle Tony and have him drive your sorry asses on elsewhere,” Samuel ordered. “Because you ain’t welcome here no more. Neither of y’all are.”
“Uncle Tony ain’t gonna be happy with you,” Tina remarked.
“Oh, okay—then tell him this too,” Samuel added, taking a wide step forward and glaring daggers into her. “Tell him if he brings a gun here, then he better not miss— or I will blow his goddamn head off .”
Tina stared coldly into him.
Then, in defeat, she and Amy turned around and opened the front door, walking outside before Samuel slammed it loudly shut behind them.
“Fuckin’ worthless motherfuckers,” he growled, raking his hairs back. “Swear to God—I don’t know how nobody in this family’s fuckin’ shot each other yet.”
Hailey merely sighed, stepping over to the living room and starting the cleaning process, placing the cushions back onto the couches and realigning the coffee table. Samuel walked around collecting trash and used needles, and Hailey thought to turn the TV on while they cleaned.
For a while, they simply straightened up the place, and thankfully, after their mother and sister’s departure, everything remained peaceful, and no disgruntled uncles arrived on their doorstep for the following hour.
Just when Samuel finished lugging all of the trash bags outside and walked back in—his cellphone began to ring from his pocket. He rested his back to the front door, pulled it out, and opened it, answering the call without looking to see who it was.
“Hello?”
Samuel waited a moment, hearing no response.
Hailey turned and stared at him, moving over to him and leaning closer to the phone to hear the caller herself—but nobody had spoken yet.
A few miles away—Mohinder lay outside on the cold concrete in front of the hospital, staring up at the night sky with every part of him feeling frozen to the bone, his expression blank, and his mind hardly managing to cooperate with him.
Samuel gave his sister an odd look, then spoke into the phone again. “Hellooo?”
Mohinder gulped, inhaling a deep, trembling breath before he managed to force any words out.
“Sam,” he managed, his voice low, soft, and grating.
Samuel blinked, and Hailey raised her eyebrows, both of them surprised to hear from him.
“Oh… shit,” Samuel said with a laugh. “Hey, man… how have you been? We haven’t heard from you since…”
He paused, his brow hardening.
“What’s wrong?” Samuel then thought to ask.
Mohinder lay still on the sidewalk, his eyes sealing shut, and he took in another difficult breath, not answering right away.
Samuel and Hailey remained glued to the phone as they leaned on the diamond door, waiting patiently and anxiously to hear the answer, as they both felt certain that something was most assuredly awry now.
Mohinder had a loose grasp on his cellphone, his fingers numb, but he adjusted his grip and forced out a reply.
“My parents were just killed in a car accident,” he told them, his voice rough and shaking.
Samuel’s face fell stony, and Hailey swallowed a gasp, covering her mouth with dismay.
“Sorry, I ah… ahm…” Mohinder mumbled, swallowing and sniffing. “I know this is out of the blue, but I j… I jus…”
He stopped again.
Samuel waited patiently for him to continue.
“I just need somewhere to go,” Mohinder choked. “I can’t go back to my house… I can’t go back there now…”
“We have to go get him,” Hailey whispered insistently.
Samuel nodded and held the phone closer. “Where are you?”
“At, ah… Wallace Medical Center,” Mohinder mumbled.
“All right… just sit tight and we’ll be there in a sec,” Samuel assured him.
“Okay,” Mohinder breathed.
Samuel hung up and snapped the phone shut—and he marched out of the trailer at once, Hailey moving to follow him, sliding hurriedly into her puffy winter jacket before rushing outside with her brother. They leaped into their vehicle and yanked the doors shut.
Samuel’s rusty white Ford pickup suddenly roared to life—the headlights casting twin beams on the gravel drive before them—and he rocketed out of the trailer park haphazardly, speeding onto the road and heading off to the hospital.
Within five minutes—he arrived in the hospital parking lot and drove toward the rounded path in front of the emergency room, the place mostly uninhabited, aside from the lone figure lying on the sidewalk, just in their view.
Samuel parked the pickup just beside the curb, and the Ryder sibling hopped out and approached Mohinder, who looked as if he was sleeping on the sidewalk, despite how cold it was.
“Holy… shit ,” Hailey breathed, dropping to her knees beside him and giving him a shake. “Hey! Wake up!”
Mohinder, only wearing one of his dark-button-ups, was incredibly cold, but he could no longer feel it anymore. His eyes eased open, and he gazed up at her tiredly.
“Get uuup!” Hailey insisted, grabbing his uninjured arm and trying to pull him upright. “It’s too cold to just lay out here!”
Mohinder sat up and sighed, placing a hand to his head.
“Mohinder,” Samuel said, standing just in front of him.
Mohinder raised his head, and Samuel offered his hand.
“C’mon,” he said, nodding sideways over at his truck. “Let’s go. C’mon.”
Mohinder sighed again, grasping his hand and allowing his friend to pull him to his feet. As he did—Hailey unzipped her puffy jacket and draped it around Mohinder without a second thought, just before opening the back door of the truck for him.
The drive back was slower, and fairly quiet. Mohinder lay on the back seat staring at the truck ceiling the entire time, resting in the warmth of the puffy jacket and feeling more at ease now, if such a feeling was possible…
When they arrived back at the trailer park, Samuel cursed under his breath as he parked in his usual spot in front of the white trailer with the diamond door. Another pickup truck was parked here now—a dark red one with severely chipped paint—the truck that belonged to their uncle.
“Fuckin’a,” Samuel growled, turning the engine off and facing Hailey. “Stay here…”
Hailey sighed and watched as her brother popped the driver door open and leaped out, swinging it shut and storming over to the trailer.
After he was gone, Hailey turned to the back, reaching over to Mohinder and gently placing her hand over his.
“Hey,” she said sweetly. “I love you. We love you so much.”
Mohinder glanced at her, sighing shakily and placing his cast-covered hand over hers.
“Love you too,” he said weakly.
Hailey offered him a smile, stroking his hand with her thumb.
Samuel pulled the front door open and glanced around—and he spotted Uncle Tony in the hallway directly across from him, burly and big with dirty stained overhauls and a big brown bear to match the hairs on his head, currently flattened by a John Deer hat. The uncle stopped in his tracks, holding two overstuffed backpacks by his sides.
Samuel perked his brow at him. “Whatcha got there?”
“Tina and Amy’s stuff,” Tony replied, raising the bags slightly. “They didn’t wanna come back and try to get it themselves.”
“Oh. Alrighty then,” Sam said dismissively, stepping back outside and waving for the uncle to join him. “Fine by me. Have a night nice, Tony.”
The two of them walked out of the trailer, and Samuel looked to his truck, giving his sister a thumbs-up and motioning for her to come on out.
Hailey let out a relieved cloud of breath before climbing out of the pickup and opening Mohinder’s door for him.
By the time Samuel, Hailey, and Mohinder were all standing in the front yard—Tony had just thrown the two backpacks into the bed of his own truck, turning and facing them.
“You got a cigarette?” Tony asked his nephew.
“P’shit… not for you,” Samuel replied jokingly, turning to Mohinder and muttering to him. “You can go ahead inside… and make yourself comfortable, all right?”
Mohinder barely made a nod, wandering over to the front door and entering the trailer.
Samuel began to dig out his cigarettes, and Tony’s eyes were fixated on Mohinder, watching him stride across the yard until he was no longer in sight. When he faced his nephew again, Samuel was handing him a cigarette and lighting one for himself at the same time.
“Who is that?” Tony asked, swatting over at the trailer.
Samuel inhaled a drag, holding out his lighter and lighting Tony’s cigarette as well.
“Friend of mine,” he replied, snapping the Zippo shut and stuffing it back into his coat.
Tony nodded and took a puff, glancing at the trailer again.
“Where’s he from?” he inquired.
Samuel exhaled a smoke cloud, narrowing his eyes at him.
“Does it matter…?” he said.
Tony shrugged, then glimpsed at the trailer once more.
“What is he, Arab?” the uncle questioned.
Samuel lowered his cigarette, staring strangely at his uncle as if the man had just changed colors before his eyes.
Tony read his expression, then continued. “You just need to be careful who you bring around here. Especially with your sister here. You know how them people treat women?”
Samuel ogled him bizarrely. “Who the fuck’re we talking about right now? First of all, you’re thinking of a totally different culture , and second of all—”
“Hey—don’t give me no attitude, boy. I know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about,” Tony snarled arrogantly. “Them people flew two planes into our towers—”
“He’s Indian , you fuckin’ dumb motherfucker,” Samuel argued. “And he’s from fucking England! Are you retarded? Stop runnin’ your cocksucker about someone you don’t know fuckall about. Ignorant son of a bitch.”
“You keep runnin’ your smart mouth and I’m gonna knock your goddamn teeth in,” Tony threatened, jabbing his cigarette at him. “I didn’t do two tours in Afghanistan just to have some little puissant like you talk shit—”
“No no no—don’t get me wrong, now,” Samuel countered, raising a hand. “I support the troops—I just don’t support your ignorant fuckin’ ass, and your all brown people are the same bullshit. Why don’t you get a fuckin’ education? My friend isn’t the people you fought, and you best stop talking about him like he is, ‘cause you’re ‘bout to piss me off.”
“Please don’t fight,” Hailey murmured sadly.
“Yeah… that’s why your momma’s on drugs,” Tony said nastily, flicking the cigarette carelessly onto their lawn before marching over to his truck. “Stuck living in the same house with your fuckin’ ass, it’s no wonder she’s goin’ to shit…”
“Uh-huh—yeah, you got me, motherfucker! Say hello to the devil!” Samuel screamed, spreading his arms open and hollering after his uncle. “Fuck me for paying all the bills and taking her sorry ass to rehab—yeah, I’m the cause! I’m the whole fuckin’ reason for all the bad shit that’s ever happened! Yeah, you got me! Just shut the fuck up and go on somewhere! ”
Tony sank into his truck and backed out of the driveway rather abruptly, slinging rocks up against the trailer. He turned and sped past the two of them, and Samuel was sure to smack the truck as it went by, yelling vulgarities until his uncle’s vehicle was no longer in his view.
“Fuckin’ racist motherfucker…” Samuel sighed angrily, turning back to his trailer and strolling toward it. “Hope he fuckin’ dies , I swear to God…”
Hailey quietly stepped on the lit cigarette and snuffed it out with her shoe before following him inside.
When the two of them walked into the trailer—Mohinder was lying on the couch, using the puffy jacket as a blanket, resting his head on one of the small pillows and absentmindedly staring across the room at the TV.
Samuel shut and locked the front door, and then, he joined Hailey’s side, both of them staring at Mohinder, unsure of what they should say now.
“Ahm… you can stay here as long as you want,” Samuel said. “Mom and Amy just got their asses thrown to the curb, so… we actually have room now…”
Mohinder was still and quiet for a moment. Then, he pushed himself upright and placed the puffy jacket aside, gazing straight at the floor, almost trancelike. He still couldn’t process a thing; his parents were suddenly gone forever, his home would soon be gone now too, and he had no desire to ever return to the campus or pursue a diploma. There was simply nothing, nothing inside, nothing left from the life that had just shattered around him, and nothing at all he could feel.
Hailey frowned remorsefully at him, and Samuel’s expression became grave.
“Hey.”
Samuel marched forward, stopped right in front of him, and sank down, sitting on the edge of the coffee table and leveling his eyes perfectly with Mohinder’s.
“You don’t have to say anything, or do anything, or choose anything,” Samuel told him firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder and staring profoundly into him. “You just be here, and you just take all the time you need… okay? We’re here for you. We’re both here for you, all the way. All right?”
Mohinder’s eyes met with Samuel’s, and then, all of a sudden, every dead feeling inside him seemed to ignite back to life, fighting to escape him out of nowhere. He forced it all down, kept a lid on it best he could, but he let out a choking sort of breath—and Samuel snapped an arm around him, patting him on the back and simply embracing him.
Hailey moved over to the couch and sat beside Mohinder, wrapping her arms around him as well.
Thus began a long, painful era of Mohinder’s life—wherein the Ryder siblings looked after him without a shred of hesitance, doubt, or issue for many weeks to follow thereafter.
During the very same afternoon of the Talavar family tragedy—Eli was standing in his bathroom in front of the mirror, begrudgingly preparing to attend an event that he very much did not want to go to.
Much to the contrary of how he usually dressed—he wore a sleek black suit with a white undershirt, and complete with a dark tie, and his well-maintained hair was left to hang rather than being combed back, a hat on his head, and sunglasses covering his face. He examined himself in the reflection, then walked out and met his mother in the living room.
His mom—Georgia Riley—was a slightly heavyset and maternal woman, and today, she wore a beautiful red dress complete with long sleeves and a rose design along the side of the collar, a matching hat on her head, and her black hair tied back and resting in a low ponytail on her back.
“This is some bullshit…” Eli mumbled, walking into the living room and still fighting with his tie. “Why we gotta dress in church clothes? Ty ain’t gonna care what we’re wearing.”
“Watch your mouth, boy,” Georgia replied, venturing over to him and fixing his tie herself. “And take that hat off. You look like a 1940s gangbanger.”
“I know,” Eli smirked, flicking the front of his suit jacket. “That’s ‘bout the only way to make this look work.”
“You really wanna wear a hat to your cousin’s wedding?”
“ You’re wearin’ a hat…”
“Mine don’t make me look like a gangbanger.”
Eli groaned and tossed his head back. “The wedding’s outside , Mom… ain’t nobody gonna care if I’m wearin’ a hat…”
“Get your little short ass in the car,” Georgia ordered, opening the front door and adjusting her purse strap.
Eli followed her outside and shut the door, and they both walked down the narrow walkway in front of their house, heading over to Georgia’s old maroon-colored car.
Tanya, Jamal, and Daniel were hanging out on the front porch of the house just across the way—as they usually did—and they made taunting gestures at Eli from afar.
Eli didn’t look at them, simply brandishing a middle finger before sinking into the passenger seat. Georgia started the car and backed out of the driveway, cruising down Vernon Avenue and taking the first left.
“Don’t see why we gotta care anyway,” Eli grumbled to himself, fidgeting with his hat and deciding to wear it slightly crooked. “Ty done moved out the neighborhood and forgot all about us. I don’t see why we gotta care about any of them.”
“Boy… hush your mouth,” Georgia told him, driving past the trailer park. “They’re family. You don’t stop carin’ about family just because they moved to some other house somewhere.”
Eli stared out the window and chose not to reply.
The rest of the drive was quiet, though Georgia was forced to take the longer route to their church, because the road going past the airport had just been blocked off at the intersection due to an apparent traffic accident.
So—the Rileys arrived at the church about ten minutes late, the parking lot crowded, and mobs of people still loitering outside. It didn’t seem to matter that they arrived late, and they moved into the crowd with ease, Riley pausing and trading halfhearted greetings with cousins, aunts, and uncles as everyone slowly moved to the open field behind the church, where several metal chairs had been set up in front of a foldout stage, decorated with white streamers and balloons of many colors.
Before long—Cousin Ty stood at the end of the grassy altar, and an older gentleman began to walk Ty’s wife-to-be down the aisle, Eli’s arms tightly folded as he sat beside his mother in the back row, trying his best not to shiver.
“Who’s fuckin’ idea was it to have an outdoor December wedding?” Eli growled under his breath. “Fuckin’ bullshit… freezin’ my ass off…”
Georgia shushed him, and the ceremony carried on.
The longer the pastor talked up front, and the longer everything took—the ring bearer, the vows, and everything else—the more annoyed Eli became, stuffing his hands deeply under his arms to hide from the steadily-growing frostbite.
At long, long last—the ceremony ended—and Eli rushed through every conversation he had with the distant family members around him, wanting to simply return to the car.
By the time Georgia and Eli were on the way home, nighttime was drawing near, and Georgia repeatedly glanced over at her son while she drove.
“You don’t need to be actin’ like that at a wedding,” she said.
Eli smacked his lips and shot her a look. “Momma, they don’t care nothin’ about us. I think I was pretty damn nice.”
Georgia stared at the windshield with a distant expression.
“You don’t know how hard it is to be grown,” she said softly. “You have no idea what other difficult things they’re all dealing with in their own lives. Sometimes, people just can’t afford to care as much as they want to.”
“Well… that’s some bullshit,” Eli mumbled disdainfully. “I’m gonna make sure I don’t end up that way. I’m gonna make sure I can afford to care about whatever the hell I want to. We’re gonna have a big-ass house, and a garden, and everything else we need and want. I’m gonna make it happen.”
He glared forward, scowling, expecting his mother to laugh, or argue, or disagree with him. When she did none of these, he slowly turned his head, eyeing her from behind his lenses—and she was still staring ahead, but with a small, faint half-smile.
“I know you will,” she said with assurance.
Eli stared at her.
“How do you know…?” he uttered thoughtlessly.
Georgia continued to smile, gently adjusting the silver cross that hung from around her neck.
“Momma knows, child,” she told him confidently. “The Lord told me what you’re gonna do.”
Eli stared for a moment longer, then faced forward again, unsure of how to respond.
Georgia pulled into their driveway, put the car in park, and stopped, pausing and staring vacantly into the steering wheel.
“Man… and we ain’t got no dinner made,” Eli mumbled, popping the door open and extending a leg out, then turning to his mother. “We got any of that Popeye’s left in the fridge?”
Georgia didn’t answer, still gazing into the steering wheel, her expression devoid of feeling.
“Momma,” Eli said louder, leaning closer to her. “Why you ignoring me?”
Georgia did not respond.
Then, she slumped slightly forward, her head resting on the tip of the steering wheel.
Eli stared, inhaling a slow, dreadful breath, his heart jolting with urgency. He instantly broke into action—leaping out of the car and storming around it. He ripped her door open and shook her, snapping his fingers by her ear and trying to get a response, but all to no avail.
Georgia remained still and motionless in the driver seat.
“Ohhh… fuck ,” Eli hissed, recoiling and combing his hairs back, his hat falling to the pavement as panic spiraled up and down him like lightning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”
Tanya, Jamal, and Daniel were on their usual porch, shouting insults at him from across the street, but he couldn’t hear them; Eli pulled out his cellphone and dialed 911, despite his hands shaking terribly now.
Eli spoke on the phone frantically with the dispatcher, pacing up and down the driveway and repeatedly checking on his mother, pressing a fist to his forehead and biting his lip, trying to force down the panic best he could.
Tanya and Jamal continued to laugh and trade insulting gossip as they leaned on their wooden porch balcony and watched, but Daniel’s expression seemed to drop, narrowing his eyes at the yard across from theirs.
“Hold up… what’s goin’ on over there?” Daniel uttered, squinting at the situation.
Eli was marching quickly back and forth outside of his mother’s open car door. Then—he yelled and reeled back—kicking the side of the car as hard as he could and almost launching himself into the grass. He barely caught his balance, raking his hairs back again and shaking his head.
“That little nigga’s over there losin’ his goddamn mind,” Tanya giggled snidely. “That’s what’s goin’ on.”
She and Jamal shared a laugh, but Daniel frowned.
The audience on the porch watched until an ambulance arrived, pulling up beside the maroon four-door and parking there.
“Ohhh shit,” Tanya muttered, smacking her brother on the arm. “His momma done died on the front lawn.”
Jamal chortled heartily at this.
Daniel shot both of them a glare. “That’s messed up, man.”
Neither of them paid him any mind, and they continued to laugh and make cruel remarks.
They continued to observe—watching as the EMTs moved Georgia Riley over to the ground and began administering CPR. Eli stood on the sidelines, still dragging his fingers back through his hair, staring down at his mother on the ground and looking thoroughly distraught.
“That’s what happens when you a bitch,” Jamal said, resting his arms on the balcony and staring coldly at Eli across the street. “Karma done got your ass now.”
“Mmmhm,” Tanya agreed.
Daniel turned and stared at them with a look of disgust. “The fuck is wrong with y’all…? His momma’s fuckin’ dyin’ over there, and you still over here talkin’ shit.”
“Well… he shouldn’t have run off tryinna be white,” Tanya replied icily. “He think he too good for us, and he wanna hang out with that racist-ass trailer trash… man, fuck him.”
Daniel smacked his lips and scrunched up his face. “Man… fuck you , you fuckin’ sick motherfuckers. You the ones bein’ racist. You know what? Y’all need Jesus. Fuck outta here…”
At that—Daniel marched off the porch and stormed away, walking back over to his own house without looking back.
Tanya and Jamal didn’t yell or curse after him, nor did they try to stop him. They simply continued to watch the scene across the street unfold for their own entertainment.
Once the EMTs managed to get a pulse, they loaded Georgia onto the stretcher and placed her carefully into the back of the ambulance. Eli tried to climb inside with them, but they shooed him away, instructing him to get a ride to the hospital.
Eli cursed, swore, and raged at them as they lumbered into the ambulance without him, angry tears staining his cheeks, hands balled into fists by his sides.
The ambulance backed down the driveway, then turned and raced out of Vernon Avenue with the sirens wailing, carrying his mother away.
Eli stood on the front lawn, watching it go, his eyes fiery behind a watery glaze, his hairs askew, and his chest rising and falling with every furious, worried breath.
He’d watched it all—he’d seen them resuscitate her, seen Georgia Riley begin to breathe again, her eyes fluttering, alive, just unconscious—but he still had no idea what was wrong with her, why she fell unresponsive, or why she needed to be resuscitated in the first place. He guessed it was a heart attack—but they hadn’t told him anything, hadn’t even bothered trying to give him some peace of mind or a ride to the hospital. He knew she was alive now, but would she stay that way? He couldn’t possibly know.
“What happened, Eli?” Tanya called out tauntingly at him. “Momma had too much fried chicken?”
Eli stood in the center of his yard, breathing hard and fast, his teeth grinding, fingernails digging into his palms, emotions suddenly waging absolute war inside—and he knew he had to go, right now.
Staying here would result in something terrible.
Eli turned and stormed over to the car, flashing a middle finger at the house across the street yet again—then he sank into the driver seat, his mother’s keys still dangling from the ignition.
“’Bout sick of his shit,” Jamal grumbled, thundering off the porch and striding across the street. “Hey! Where the fuck you think you goin’?!”
Eli glanced at the side mirror and saw him approaching. He reached over to close the door—but Jamal grabbed him and yanked him halfway out of the car—shoving something tiny and sharp into his abdomen.
Eli’s breath stopped—a terrible shock overtaking him, and he went completely still.
“Lil’ bitch,” Jamal growled, throwing him back into the car and holding a small, blood-streaked knife by his side. “ Now you can take your ass to the hospital—and you can die there with your fat ugly momma. Bitch .”
He spit on the car, then turned and marched back over to his house without a care.
Eli was left sitting crookedly in the driver seat, one leg outside of the car, hand clasped over his side, which was bleeding terribly now, crimson staining his white undershirt and oozing through his fingers. His mind suddenly fell blank, another rush of adrenaline flooding through him—and he sat there for what felt like a long while, trying to force his breaths to slow, and summoning every ounce of his nerve to remain calm.
His hand tightened around the small stab wound.
His other hand reached over, trembling, grabbing the keys and starting the engine.
Then, he hooked his foot beneath the door and pulled it slowly shut, wincing and groaning as the movement caused a horrid pain to erupt in his side.
Once he was fully in the car and the door was closed, he paused for a moment to catch his breath, and to allow the lightheadedness to pass.
Then, his free hand shifted gears and coiled viselike around the steering wheel.
Eli glared at the windshield, possessed by a fire he’d never known before—and he drove forward, making a hard turn and speeding over the front lawn, the car thumping over the curb and reaching the street.
He gasped and clenched his teeth with every bump—his side burning and screaming in pain—but he drove on, and he raced out of Vernon Avenue, knowing with absolute certainty that he would never come back now.
He drove hunched forward, hand clasped firmly onto his bloody side, pulling into the trailer park and driving down its gravel stretch toward his destination.
When he pulled to a stop outside of the white trailer with the diamond door, night had fallen, and he squinted outside, seeing that Samuel’s pickup was nowhere to be seen—but a red pickup truck had just parked beside the trailer, and Uncle Tony was just beginning to climb out of it, pausing and giving Eli a dirty look.
Eli moaned and shook his head, facing forward again and deciding to drive away.
He eased to a stop at the edge of the trailer park’s gravel path, then used his driving hand to dig the phone out of his suit jacket’s inner pocket, shakily surfing through his saved contacts. He was not going to the hospital now; his insurance had run out when he turned eighteen, and everything that had just happened with his mother would already land them with a mountain of medical bills. He refused to add to it.
No—he just needed someone he could trust, and somewhere else to go.
Anywhere that was not Vernon Avenue.
His eyes wandered over the short list of contacts, and he selected Samuel. He tried to call him, but the call rang twice before going to voicemail, so he swore and lowered the phone. He attempted to call Hailey instead, but her phone was turned off, and the call went straight to her voicemail.
“Mother… fucker ,” Eli hissed, leaning over the steering wheel and wincing horribly once again.
He rested there for a moment, taking deep, slow breaths, then sat slightly upright again, staring at the phone’s tiny screen once more, his eyes landing on Octavia’s name.
“You’re gonna be the one,” Eli mumbled faintly, hitting the call button. “You’re gonna be the one…”
He held the phone to his ear—and a few miles away, all alone in her Waltham Place duplex, Octavia was in the middle of cooking a dinner of chicken-fried steak when her phone began to vibrate against her leg.
She turned the stove down, pulled out her phone, and stared down at its little screen, looking surprised to see an incoming call from Eli.
Then, she walked out of her small kitchen and answered the call. “Hello…?”
“Ah… hey,” Eli said breathlessly, halfway lying on the steering wheel, blowing a strand of black hairs from his face. “Whatchu up to right now…?”
“Ahm… nothing?” Octavia laughed. “Mom’s gone visiting my Grandma and Grandpa this week, so I’m just here guarding the house and job-hunting for Christmas. What’s up?”
Eli adjusted his grasp on the phone, hunched still, beads of sweat along his forehead, and for a moment, he couldn’t manage a response. He rarely ever asked anyone for help of any kind, and he very much did not like to. It was difficult to force the words out.
“You c…” he uttered, pausing and clearing his throat. “Uh… you care if I come over for a lil’ while?”
Octavia blinked, standing in her living room and making an odd face at her TV in the corner. “Um… I don’t care , no. you can come over. But… what’s wrong? What happened…?”
Eli let out a deep, massive breath, allowing his eyes to drift shut for a second.
“Can’t say,” he mumbled.
Octavia frowned. “Why can’t you tell me…?”
“No, I c… I can’t say ,” Eli corrected. “It’s a long story… ‘bout to run outta energy just sittin’ here talking…”
Octavia was quiet for a moment, biting her lip and feeling a spark of concern inside.
“Do I need to come and get you?” she asked.
Eli swallowed roughly, forcing himself to sit upright again and swallowing the overwhelming desire to yell in pain.
“Nope,” he grunted through gritting teeth. “Be there soon.”
“Okay,” Octavia murmured worriedly. “Just call me if you need me to come get you.”
“Mhm,” Eli managed just before hanging up the phone and pressing it to his forehead, releasing a low, pained groan, his side burning like hellfire now.
He pocketed the phone, slapped his hand back onto the steering wheel, and eased his foot off the brakes, cruising away from the trailer park and making the drive to Octavia’s neighborhood.
The drive to Waltham Place was not actually a long one, but it felt as if it was taking hours, the pain seeming to intensify with every passing second, and Eli let out an audible moan when he was forced to stop at a red light.
Eventually, he found himself cruising into a dark, peaceful neighborhood made only of duplexes, and he pulled up to Octavia’s home, parking the car at the curb.
Octavia’s house sat on the top of a fairly small hill, its driveway on the right, leading right up to the front porch, which was on the side of the building, the half of the duplex that belonged to Octavia and her mother. There was a big tree in the front yard, and below the main structure of the house was a wood-paneled wall, complete with a rickety basement door.
Eli powered the car off, staring up at the house for a second and sighing, its driveway empty, and its living room window visibly illuminated. He then popped the car door open, inhaling a deep breath before forcing himself out—clasping his side, wincing, and reaching his feet, pausing to lean on the car for a moment before easing the driver door shut and turning away. Then, he began the long, painful walk up the small, short driveway.
Octavia decided to fry two more patties, scooping them out of the pan and setting them on the plate when they were finished, snugly beside the first two. Moments later, she heard a knock at the front door, and she walked over to it and pulled it open.
Eli stood there, arm propped up on her door frame, and hand clutched tightly onto his bloody side, his hairs hanging, and his eyes venturing around the inside of her house, small kitchen to her left, and the living room to her right.
“I forgot how weird this damn place was set up,” Eli choked with a laugh.
Octavia stared at the bloodied spot, his white undershirt blotched with blood nearly all the way up and down his left side. She took a deep breath, her heart beginning to pound, and she gave him a glare.
“What the fuck happened…?” she breathed, trying to speak calmly and failing.
Eli panted a few times, then cracked a smile. “You ain’t gonna believe the day I’ve had…”
“It’s not funny ,” Octavia griped, pulling him inside and shoving the door shut. “Goddammit—get the fuck in here.”
“Ow, ow, ow… don’t do that,” Eli breathed, closing his eyes and clasping his side even harder.
Octavia paused for a second, glancing over at her couch, positioned against the wall. Then, she shook her head and turned, strolling past the living room and into the small back hall. She stopped at the first bedroom—her bedroom—and waved for him to follow.
“Come here!” she demanded. “And take that jacket off.”
Eli cocked his head and smirked again. “Aw yeah…”
“Shut up and get in here,” Octavia demanded, pushing the door fully open and stepping inside.
Eli stepped into the room and paused to look around. It was a fairly small bedroom, with a petite desk directly to his right, cluttered by Octavia’s laptop and several other things, the bed in the center of the room with white and blue comforters on it, and a small box TV positioned on top of a dresser in the corner, a PS2 hooked up to it. Beside this dresser and along the side wall was a white closet door, and she stepped in front of it, snapping her fingers and pointing down at the bed.
“Lay down. I’m gonna stop whatever the fuck’s bleeding—and then we’re gonna go to the hospital,” Octavia stated.
“Nooo… I can’t go to the hospital,” Eli replied, shaking his head. “I really can’t… not now…”
“Why the fuck not?!” Octavia snapped. “And why didn’t you go there in the first damn place?!”
“Because Momma just had a heart attack,” Eli told her, his tone instantly darkening and trembling. “I ain’t gonna pile on now.”
Octavia fell silent, inhaling a deep, stressed breath and looking both furious and worried.
“And then Jamal decided to shank my ass for no goddamn reason,” Eli ranted, breathing harder. “And I’m not going back there. I don’t give a shit where I have to go, or what I have to do—I am not going the fuck back over there!”
Octavia was quiet for another tense moment.
Then, she motioned to the bed again.
“Lay down,” she said softly.
Eli sighed heavily, meandering over to the edge of the bed and slowly sinking down to a sitting position on it. He winced again, peeling his suit jacket off with some difficulty, and he laid it across the top of the comforters before slowly easing back and lying on top of it, holding his side as hard as he could now, as the wound felt to be on fire.
He rolled his head exhaustedly to the side, just in time to see Octavia pull her closet open. The inside of it was narrow and tall, not much space inside—but she had utilized the space to the best of her ability, two plastic totes full of unknown goods at the bottom, countless canned goods, boxed foods, and packs of bottled waters stacked up on top of them, and the metal shelf at the top of the closet was covered in random medical supplies, medication bottles, gauze pads, and two large first-aid kits.
Eli made a strange face at the sight of it, gazing past her and ogling the closet bizarrely.
Octavia collected one of her first-aid kits and turned around to face him—and his befuddled stare landed on her, giving her a look as if she had just revealed an alien spacecraft to him.
“The fuck is that…?” Eli muttered faintly, gesturing loosely at the closet with his free hand. “You preparing for the end of the world in here…?”
“Yeah. Doomsday-prepping is the best thing you can ever do,” Octavia replied, moving over to his injured side and sitting next to him. “Because… then… you’re always prepared for random impossible bullshit just like this.”
She reached over, and she began to unfasten each button of his once white dress shirt.
“How bad is it?” she asked.
“I’unno… not bad,” Eli replied, trying to remove his hand from it and look, but he quickly covered it again. “I don’t think it hit anything important, it just hurts like a motherfucker… but he just had a little pig-sticker… wasn’t hardly anything…”
“Just a puncture wound,” Octavia mumbled. “Okay…”
She stood and left the room, vanishing into the bathroom at the end of the hallway and turning the sink on. She returned moments later with a wet rag and a dry one, and she then peeled back his blood-soaked shirt, cleaning the area best she could before moving on to the next phase.
Eli merely rested, comfortable as ever on her bed, gazing up at her ceiling and feeling as if he could suddenly just slip into a heavy sleep. His mind wandered to his mother, but he took solace in the last moments he saw her, breathing, and just beginning to stir. She would probably be all right, she’d just have to stay in the hospital for a while…
Sometime later, he blinked himself awake again, glancing down and seeing that his side was now covered completely by gauze, and feeling pressure on his side, as if something had been stuffed up against the wound and held tightly in place. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to be pouring blood anymore, so he laid his head fully back again, sighing and closing his eyes.
The wound had been cleaned, disinfected, packed, and covered—and now, Octavia was wrapping a long strand of gauze tape around him, ensuring that none of it would come apart or fall off of him.
“M’kay… that should make it okay for now,” Octavia said, shutting the first-aid kit and walking back over to the closet. “I still think you should go to the hospital, though.”
She placed it back on the top shelf, closed the closet, and turned back around to face him.
Eli appeared to be asleep on her bed, hand draped over his exposed stomach, looking genuinely fatigued.
“Okay… goodnight,” Octavia said with a laugh.
“I ain’t sleeping yet,” Eli moaned tiredly, slowly adjusting in his lying position and gently scooting himself further onto the center of the bed.
Octavia glanced over at her open bedroom door, then back at him, walking around the bed and sitting beside him again.
“My mom’s gonna be gone for a few days,” she informed. “You can stay here until… well, I mean, you can stay here when she gets back, too… I’d just have to hide you.”
Eli’s eyes eased open, and he chuckled at this. “You gonna hide me in that closet…?”
“I don’t see why not,” Octavia snickered. “You’re small enough to fit in there… and you could survive in there for weeks, at least.”
“Hell nah,” Eli laughed sleepily. “Dontchu dare…”
There was a pause.
Octavia glanced down and sighed, then gave him a curious look. “Why did you come… here? ”
Eli raised his eyebrows at her. “Because you let me.”
Octavia squinted at him strangely. “I don’t mind you coming here, I just…”
She trailed off and shrugged.
Eli read the questions off her face, then explained. “I called Sam… and Hailey… and Mohinder’s off at school… so… y’know. Sam and Hailey didn’t answer. I went by their house, but there wasn’t nobody there except that mean-ass uncle of theirs, so… I figured they were both busy with something. Basically… I came here … because you answered.”
Octavia went quiet, staring at him with a sad, disturbed visage.
“How’d I know… huh?” Eli mumbled quietly, flashing another smirk. “How’d I know it’d be you?”
Octavia said nothing, her heart aching, and she huffed out another stressful breath.
“Ambulance took Momma away… and I ain’t staying at home anymore,” Eli yawned. “I’m done…”
“You should probably call the hospital and check on her,” Octavia suggested.
“I will,” Eli muttered. “I jus’ need to chill for a minute…”
Octavia nodded.
They were both silent for a few seconds again.
Then, Eli narrowed his eyes at her intently.
“You got Indian in your family?” he asked randomly.
Octavia sputtered out a laugh. “What… Native American? Yeah. I thought you knew that.”
“White as you are…? No,” Eli mumbled. “But I can see it in them cheekbones now…”
“I’m all Irish and Cherokee, basically.”
“Ohhh… so we both got nothing but oppressed people in our blood. Hell yeah. We should start a club…”
“Tch… I’m not gonna start a club based on that,” Octavia laughed, shaking her head and glancing at her closet. “If I ever start a club, it’s gonna be…”
She stopped talking, shrugging and dismissing the idea.
“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured.
There was another brief pause.
Octavia lay down next to him, glancing over and giving him another questioning look.
“Was Tanya there when Jamal did that?” she wondered.
“Yeah,” Eli said, staring at the ceiling.
Octavia shot him a look. “And she didn’t care? ”
“Nope,” Eli affirmed.
Octavia stared. “Why do they hate you so much?”
Eli took a moment before replying, inhaling deeply.
“Well… Jamal’s just being loyal to his sister,” he mumbled. “And Tanya doesn’t like me hanging around with white girls… after me and her dated.”
Octavia blinked and shot him a double-take. “You dated her?”
“Yeah… that was a while ago,” Eli sighed. “Ain’t like I got anything against black women, like she thinks… I just don’t like her . She’s mean as hell.”
Octavia choked out a laugh, staring at him incredulously.
“I dated this other black girl sophomore year… Shanice… and she was fuckin’ amazing,” Eli said. “But she moved away, so… y’know… that just wasn’t gonna work out.”
Octavia nodded quietly.
“And Tanya was like… Shanice’s evil fucking twin… polar damn opposite personality,” Eli remarked. “That bitch got the devil inside her.”
Octavia laughed again.
“That was before I started hangin’ around with y’all, though,” Eli said, turning his head and meeting her eyes. “When’s the last time you heard from anybody…?”
Octavia hesitated. “What… Mohinder and them?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know… September-ish. People just stopped texting at some point. I kinda figured it was about that time…”
“About what time?”
“Time for everybody to start drifting apart like I said they would. I figured it would happen sooner or later.”
Eli was quiet for a moment.
“Well… you got me here now,” he said, tossing up a hand. “Bleedin’ all over your bed, and shit…”
Octavia snickered and shook her head at him. “I can’t believe you. I can’t believe how much shit you just went through, and you’re just cracking jokes like nothing’s happening.”
“It got easier when I got here,” Eli told her.
Octavia smiled, and Eli was gazing into her, seeming momentarily transfixed by her. She gulped and felt a spark of anxiety, sitting up and heading to the door.
“You hungry?” she asked him. “I just made chicken-fried steak before you got here.”
“Oh yeah,” Eli nodded. “Bring me some of that…”
Octavia nodded and walked off, and she returned a few minutes later with two plates of chicken-fried steak, drizzled with gravy. She started playing a movie on her laptop, then sat down and handed Eli’s plate to him. He sat up, biting his lip as he did, and then, the two of them ate and watched the movie together.
When Eli was done, he stood slowly, and he made his way out of the room, placing the empty plate in the kitchen sink. Then, he lingered in the living room, pulling out his phone and dialing the hospital.
Octavia waited in the bedroom, listening from a distance.
A few minutes later, Eli returned to the bedroom, sliding his phone into his pants pocket and peeling off his bloodstained white shirt. Octavia pointed him to the hamper in the hallway, and he dropped the shirt into it before entering the room again.
“Your mom okay?” Octavia asked.
Eli made a nod. “Yeah, they got her stable and everything… she’s just gonna be there for a while…”
Octavia nodded, leaning over to her dresser and pulling the third drawer open. She pulled out a black Disturbed shirt and tossed it to him, and he slid himself into it.
“You should probably tell her what happened,” she suggested. “I mean… not right now, but… when she starts getting better. She might try extra hard to get you guys moved somewhere else if she knows.”
Eli paused, briefly examining his wounded side before covering it back up with the t-shirt.
“Well, yeah… but we don’t have the money to move,” he mumbled. “So it ain’t gonna make a difference… and I can’t start work at that damn Footlocker for another week and a half. We’re not gonna have extra money for a while…”
Octavia fell silent, glancing down in thought. Then, she leaped off the bed and sauntered over to her dresser, pulling the top drawer open and grabbing something out of it.
When she turned to face Eli—she was holding a gorgeous gold watch in her hand.
Eli eyed it, whistling and examining it closely. “Damn… that’s nice. Where’d you get that?”
“My mom was dating this guy a few years ago… and he turned out to be kind of an asshole,” Octavia explained. “But… he gave her this at some point. After he was gone, she didn’t want it anymore… so… she gave it to me.”
Then, she held it out, offering it to Eli.
“I don’t know how much it’s worth… but it’s real gold… so it’s definitely worth a down payment on an apartment or something,” Octavia told him. “Here.”
Eli stared at it, then at her.
“You might need that,” he mumbled.
Octavia pondered on this, on everything she was trying to do now—getting a job, and perhaps even a car, so she could remain in Wallace after her mother moved away—but she shook her head and put it all aside, jutting the watch out to him again.
“You need it more,” she resolved.
Eli fell silent for a moment longer, seeming beyond words. He slowly took the watch, surveying it intently, then looked to her again, sighing and shrugging.
“You can’t give me this,” he muttered.
“Um… I think I just did,” Octavia replied sarcastically, pointing at the watch.
Eli’s expression flattened, and he shook his head once. “I can’t just… you know how much I’m gonna owe you if I just…?”
“No… hey… shut up,” Octavia said, stepping toward him and staring into his eyes intently. “Everybody… everybody needs help sometimes… and it doesn’t matter. It literally doesn’t matter at all, and it shouldn’t even feel like it matters, unless you’re just too damn proud to accept anything. So… don’t be proud… and don’t be dumb. Just take it, and get you and your mom the fuck outta that place. Okay?”
Eli was quiet, staring down at the watch in his hand with an uncharacteristically serious face.
When his eyes traveled back up to her, he wagged his finger at her, giving her a firm, intense look.
“I’m gonna do right by you,” Eli promised. “You do right by me… and I’m gonna do right by you. I don’t give a fuck what you ever say, either. That’s just how I was raised… and that’s just how it’s gonna go.”
Octavia smiled, shaking her head and pulling him onto a hug.
Eli’s arms coiled around her, holding her close and inhaling a deep, comforting whiff of her.
When he leaned back, they found their faces only inches apart, and he gently rested his forehead to hers, both of them silent, simply gazing into one another.
Then, when nervousness took over, Octavia stepped away, and she flipped the blankets back on the bed, offering him a place to sleep before she walked out of the room.
Eli lay in her bed and drifted into a deep sleep while she washed the dishes in the kitchen, mulling over several things as she did. She couldn’t wrap her mind about all the things she was feeling tonight—but it hardly mattered. What mattered was that Eli would be better off after tonight than he was before.
This night began a nice, blissful week for the two of them; the next day, Octavia showed him the basement, the long line of broken glass where she would shoot at bottles with her bb gun, and the wall of conspiracy research, laughing at the vexed and befuddled look strewn across his face. The two of them spent a lot of time sitting together, trading snarky jokes, watching TV, playing video games, and chatting about the future.
By the time Octavia’s mother returned home—she remembered vividly how she and Eli had been lying on her bed, watching things on the laptop, and how both of them leaped from their skin at the sound of the front door opening. He flew out of the bed and stepped behind the door—just before Octavia’s bedroom door eased open, and her mother leaned inside in order to share a brief conversation with her. Octavia tried not to laugh the entire time she spoke to her, Eli hidden behind the door, periodically peeking out at the situation before ducking away.
Somehow or another—while her mother returned to work, and while she herself continued the job hunt—she managed to keep Eli in the house without her mother ever finding out. The Riley family car was parked down the street a ways after Octavia’s mother returned home, and she was never the wiser.
Eventually, when Eli’s mother was ready to leave the hospital—when Eli was about to start work—and when the two of them thankfully had a new apartment lined up—Eli hugged Octavia and made his final departure of her home, promising to keep in touch after he left.
Octavia remembered smiling sadly and waving him off, again feeling unconvinced of such promises. Still—it didn’t matter. As long as everything was all right from now on—then it would always have been worth it of her to get involved.
The weeks to pass thereafter were better times for Eli and Georgia—and Eli and Octavia did manage to keep in contact by texting for a good while—but the time slowly drew nearer when the texts stopped arriving, and when everyone was, again, far too busy to seek out old friendships.
As the weeks went by—Mohinder found himself in a precarious situation as well. The slow road to recovery was easier to bear alongside Samuel and Hailey—and it remained easier until the day Samuel made the mistake of allowing Amy and Tina to return to the trailer. It was within that same week when Samuel finally succumbed to the temptation that the two heroin addicts always brought into their home.
Mohinder was no longer attending college; he’d started working here in Wallace, and it became commonplace for him to return home and find a stoned, strung-out Samuel on the couch alongside Amy and Tina. He’d spoken to him, tried to talk him out of his habit, even tried to get him into a treatment center—but nothing seemed to help.
The day Mohinder returned home and found an overdosed Samuel on the living room floor was when he decided enough was enough, and he could not remain here anymore.
He remembered advising Hailey to break away from the family and run before he quietly packed up his belongings and left the place without a word to anyone.
And so—it came to pass.
The misfits five truly began their solo journeys through life—never again to fully reunite until the late 2020s.