Tide

Chapter 8

Later, I found Isaac sitting at a table, slouched over in a chair. There were other people around him, but he wasn't talking or making eye contact with them. It was odd to see him like this. Usually, I found him smiling, chatting with random strangers and cheering them up. Now he just sat silently in his own little world, staring blankly at the wooden table.

"Isaac," I said, approaching him carefully. He flinched at the sound of my voice but didn't say anything. "Who was it?" I asked.

Now he looked at me. He glared, his eyes so cold they sent shivers down my spine. 

"Isaac..."

He looked away and picked at the wood shavings dangling off the table, ignoring me. 

"Hey," I said. "Am I talking to myself?"

It was a reference to what he'd said to me on the first day we'd met. Did he remember? If he did, he didn't acknowledge it. 

"Leave me alone."

I pulled out a chair and sat next to him.

"Just talk about it," I said softly. "It'll make you feel better."

Nothing. He didn't say a word.

"Isaac..." I placed my hand on top of his, watching him closely. His eyes met mine. I wasn't sure how to speak to someone going through something this difficult. I'd never lived through any situation remotely similar. I'd been to a funeral when I was very young for someone I wasn't close to, and that was it. This was something I wasn't sure how to handle.

"She was my mother," he said. His voice broke as he spoke, his hand trembling underneath mine. He looked away, taking a deep breath. My stomach dropped.

"Isaac," I whispered, my throat tightening. "I'm so sorry..." Pause. "You know, it's going to be okay..."

"It's not, Ava. You don't understand."

"It is. I promise you."

"No."

"Isaac, look at me."

He obeyed, revealing his empty eyes and hurt expression. Suddenly, I understood, and my heart broke for him. He had seen his own mother - dead, and there was nothing on this planet that could change what he saw. Isaac had been crushed to bits, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. He was traumatized.

I couldn't imagine how I would feel. My eyes stung at the thought of it. I pictured finding my own mother, lifeless in a photograph, her body wounded severely from the wave. I shook the thought out of my head.

"What do you want?" Isaac muttered. "I don't need some sort of escort everywhere I go, alright? I asked you politely, now... just... leave. I want to be alone."

"Isaac... Please, just talk to me."

This made him angrier. "Just fucking go! This is none of your business!"

"You have a sister who needs you," I said, raising my voice. "We're going down to the hospital today, and we're going to visit Harper. And then, here's what you're going to do: You're going to support her, you got that? I get the fact that you're angry. Trust me, I do--"

"That's bullshit," he spat.

"It's not!" I fired back. "We're all in the same situation! And look, maybe mine isn't as bad but it's impossible to tell because I haven't found anyone yet. At least you've got your sister. And if you're not there for your sister, she's not going to have anybody to guide her. For now, you're all she's got left, and she's all you've got left, so I need you to pick yourself up and be her family."

There was a long pause as he just stared at me, his eyes burning into my skin. I wanted him to say something - anything. The silence was dreadful.

Then suddenly, he broke down. His head fell into his hands, his shoulders shaking as he let out muffled cries. He sniffled, gasping a little for air. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug and burying my face into his shoulder, letting him cry.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just, it's just--"

"It's okay, Isaac. It's okay."

A little girl with honey blonde locks of hair approached us very slowly and tugged on my shirt. "Why is he crying?" she asked.

I hesitated. "Because he's upset."

"Why?"

Just as I was about to answer, I cut myself off. How was I supposed to explain to a small child what had happened? How was she supposed to understand?

--

We caught a bus to a hospital. The bus ride was long, but I felt like that was when Isaac and I had our first real conversation. It wasn't awkward or depressing. It was just a regular conversation, and it was nice. It distracted me momentarily from all the chaos happening around us, and I think it distracted him too.

Once we arrived at the hospital, Isaac rehearsed what he was going to say. He was going to tell Harper about what he had seen. He was determined.

Taking a deep breath, he walked in. I followed.

Harper slept peacefully on the hospital bed, her head supported by a giant, fluffy pillow.

"Hey," I said, watching her eyes gradually open. "How are you feeling?"

"I've had better days," she said in a groggy voice.

I glanced at Isaac, whose hands were buried in his pockets. He looked nervous, his eyes darting to every corner of the room.

"Isaac, when are we gonna go home?" Harper asked him, shifting her body towards him.

"When you get better," he said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"Have you found our..." She trailed off. "Have you found our mother yet?"

I watched him carefully, waiting for him to tell her.

He took a deep breath, stared directly into my eyes, and shook his head; as if he had read my mind.

"No, Harper. I haven't. But we will find her, I promise you that." He said, gently running his fingers through her ringlets of brown hair.

Later, Isaac and I asked a nurse for an update, and she said that Harper would require surgery very soon. This made Isaac even more anxious.

"She's going to be okay, though, right?" Isaac asked.

The nurse nodded. "If she recovers quickly, she'll be able to go home."

On our way back, I asked Isaac why he hadn't told Harper the news. He told me that it would have destroyed her, and at this point, she couldn't afford to lose any faith.

A/N:  Hope you enjoyed this chapter:) Thanks for reading!

QOTD: Do you speak any other languages?