Paper Lanterns

Chapter 5 Φ

Chapter 5 Φ

While I was riding the bus to New Waulds, I faintly smiled as I reckoned that it was his voice that had given me strength from that day on.

It was a month after my mother's death that Mr. Steve's attorney had arranged a meeting with me. I knew that Aunt Coral was struggling with their finances, even if she'd told me that I didn't have to worry about anything. That was one of the main reasons why I'd agreed to receive a stranger's help.

Mr. Steve turned out to be a pleasant man, far kinder than I'd imagined. A few weeks later, the letters came one-by-one, asking about my day, my life, and how things had been going.

At first, I'd ignored his letters, unwilling to do anything but mourn for my loss. After going through a loss, it was hard to get back to how everything used to be. We all were a little too quiet, reserved to our thoughts, listless, and routinely going along with our lives. It was the same for all of us—Aunt Coral, Natalie and her two brothers; we all didn't speak much after the funeral.

But Mr. Steve's persistence had won me over. He didn't force me to say a word back. Letter by letter, he tried to encourage me. He had talked about things—pleasant, bearable things.

Even if I didn't reply to him until his fifth letter, Mr. Steve had kept on encouraging me to go back to school. He reminded me of the worth of having a life and the chance to stay alive. Without him, I had no idea how I could have had made it.

Mr. Steve made me feel precious and loved, the very things this town took away from me since the rumors about my mom and Mr. Fletcher had emerged. That person made me feel that I was someone with dignity and respect.

He made me realize that even if everyone had said those hateful things about me and my mother, as long as I knew that we did nothing wrong, I could hold my head up high. And with his help, I lived my life like that. I lived my life not letting those kind of lies bring me down.

One day, they would grow tired of it, he told me. They would wonder why you never felt in the least ashamed or why you never apologized. They'd feel the slightest sense of guilt for what they had done. The time would come when they would question what they had heard. They'd quietly let it slip away, forcing it back to the deepest corners of their memory as a wrongdoing of the past. And if it pressed too much into their conscience, I might get an apology or two. It might not happen all at once, but eventually, he said that it would.

***

The bus came across a bump in the road, and I opened my eyes to see where we were. It seemed that I had fallen asleep.

I looked outside the bus window and saw that we were almost in the city. There was a gradual change of scenery from acres of wheat fields a while ago to small commercial buildings.

I began to feel the excitement surging up in my chest when we went over a bridge that led to the city proper. Watching the ferries down below, I held my breath and imagined that this was where I would live from now on—my fresh start.

At the other side of the bridge, it was mostly low-rise buildings and industrial areas near the port. But as we got into the inner part of the city, I couldn't take my eyes off of the tall buildings, billboards, and shopping malls. They seemed to be never ending.

When we got stuck in a heavy traffic, I took my time watching people try to get past the busy streets to where they were heading to. I wondered if I would get used to this fast-paced life, where everybody were strangers. I wondered if I would like it.

A few minutes later, the driver announced, "Central Station."

This was the last stop. It took a while before I was able to get down the bus, because I was seated at the last row. Mindful of my belongings, I found my way across the crowd and went to the information desk.