Drowning

3 - Mr. Potts

"I've got a surprise for you when you get older, dear." Mrs. Potts sits on the swing set beside me. The cool April breeze blows my hair around my face. I kick my legs and swing along with the wind.

"What do you mean? I've never had a surprise before." My eleven year old voice squeaks out. Mrs. Potts brushes the hair from her eyes to make eye contact with me. I try to give her my best attention.

"You remember when we used to read Peter Pan, dear?" She places her hand on my shoulder. I nod. "When you get older just remember the second star to the right." I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"But what-"

"Aspen, are you alright?" I'm snapped out of thoughts as I realize I'm staring at the swing set Mrs. Potts and I shared those moments with one another; lost in almost a trance remembering our moments. Until this moment, I had forgotten about Peter Pan.

Mrs. Potts read to me frequently about children stories and poetry. She tried very much to keep me  educated throughout my life especially in literature. We often sat on the swings as she would read novels to me as we soaked up the warm rays of the sun and listening to the birds chirp. I can remember the smell of honeysuckles growing in her flowerbeds. Mr. Potts always referred to them as weeds but Mrs. Potts would challenge him claiming them to be beautiful. I agreed.

"Yes, I'm okay." I follow Mr. Potts up the stairs and into their home. Well, I guess, only his home now. After we had lunch, Mr. Potts decided we would have a break in our day to talk over things before going to the police station. At this point the police are going to assume I'm okay since I didn't immediately go report Greg so I'm hoping Mr. Potts will just forget. He pulls out a chair for me at the dinning room table.

"Honey, there are some things you don't know between Mrs. Potts and I." He pushes the thick rimmed glasses up his nose. "I know we have taken care of you pretty much your whole life due to your mother's neglect and we are so thankful to have met you and take care of you. But of course, you being a child, there were things we couldn't talk to you about that you wouldn't fully understand." I nod in agreement. I understand where he's coming from. I'm sure he still sees me as a child even now despite my being eighteen.

He clears his throat to continue speaking. It is clear he's trying to find the right words to say. "Mrs. Potts and I have always had dreams to move to Quebec and-"

"Quebec?!" I exclaim in annoyance. "Quebec as in Quebec Canada?!"

"Yes, dear." He sighs anxiously. "It has always been our dream, especially Clarice's dream even more so than my own due to her distant relatives and ancestors living in Quebec and being connected to their French roots." Why must Mrs. Potts be so damn poetic even when she is dead?

"Okay." I huff. Not knowing how to really analyze the situation. One thing I'm sure of is I don't want to attack Mr. Potts but I also feel like I'm losing reality on everything. I've already lost my real mom and Mrs. Potts and now Mr. Potts wants to abandon me too! I don't have anyone. What do I do? Where do I go? How do I even accomplish things in life? "I wish I was never born." I said aloud. Mr. Potts glares at me in shock.

"Aspen, listen," he places his wrinkly hand on mine. "I love you very much. There is a reason you were born. I know you've had a hard life but please believe me. You're the daughter that Clarice and I were both so eager to have but never could due to her medical problems. However, as much as I want to bring you to Canada with us - er I mean with me - I can't. You've lived your whole life here and there is something in this city that is waiting for you."

"What could possibly be waiting for me in this shit town!" Anger swirls around my tongue.

"Language, Aspen." I whisper sorry to him. "Do you remember Peter Pan?" He raises his eyebrows. The flashbacks from earlier swirl in my brain. 'The second star to the right'. What does that mean?

"Yes. I remember."

"Clarice left something for you. I can't tell you what it is until you find it. Not even I know where it is hidden. Since I need to start packing up to move to Canada I've thought of a proposition for you." I raise an eyebrow. "What is it?" I ask.

"It's not really a proposition but just a fun little quest," he chuckles. "Of course I'm going to allow you to stay here until I move to Canada because there is no way I'm going to allow you to go back to that hell house your mother is involved in. However, what I wanted to ask is if you would help me pack? You know since I'm becoming an old man and all."

"Of course I will help you pack. I truly hate seeing you go with the memories of her but you deserve to live out the rest of your life being happy and doing what Mrs. Potts would've wanted." I can feel my heart weighed down with sadness but I'm trying to fake it for Mr. Potts. My mind is going mad as the gears continuously and quickly turn against themselves attempting to figure out what to do with my life going forward. And this surprise that Mr. Potts keeps talking about and the fact something is in this city for me? I have no clue as to what he is talking about.

"Thank you. I will let you keep some things of hers. If you want any of her clothing or jewelry we can both go through everything and you can go shopping." He chuckles. I give a weak smile. "As for the thing that is for you in this city," he gives me a mischievous grin. "You'll have to decipher the Peter Pan code and find what she meant but you only have until the twenty first of July to find it."

"You can't even give me a hint? That only gives me twenty two days to find it! Why didn't you guys tell me sooner?"

"We were planning to but everything happened so quick.." he trails off, clearly sad about Mrs. Potts passing.

"Okay. I will try to find it. Thank you." I try to change the tone.

"Let's get you to the police station, dear." Dammit. I thought he would surely forget.

"We don't have to-"

"No fighting me on this one. Come on, dear." He grabs my hand and we shuffle out the door and back to his vehicle. I'm not looking forward to this.