VII. bait for a prey

A plan was vital.

To his left, the fenced backyard. To his right, the backed in SUV with the family getting out.

Xavier chewed his lower lip in deliberation. I'll hide until they enter the house. Quiet as a mouse, he slid back into the patio and listened for his cue.

A door opening and closing. An elongated yawn.

"Ba-abe, don't be loud. Juno's sleeping." The mother.

"Awh, did my girl fall asleep? Or-r is she faking so Mommy carries her to bed?" The father.

A little girl's giggle.

"Wha—? No way." She laughed. "We've gotta watch out for this one, babe, she had me fooled."

"Next time, I'll fool Daddy."

"I'm rooting for you," said her mom.

"Dream on."

"Oh—damn it. I forgot the house looks crazy."

"Because you're as messy as I am." He chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'll get the bags, then clean the house. Go rest up."

"God, I love you."

His wife and daughter retreated. Then, suitcase wheels hit the asphalt. Xavier exhaled a puff of breath. As long as that man didn't think of coming to the backyard, he'd be alright.

"What the—?!"

Xavier choked on an inhale.

"Sorry. There was no way to show up without scaring you."

The boy craned his body to look over the corner. Just like he expected, someone else had entered. Weirdly so, he was standing on the side closest to Xavier. Where did he come from?

". . . Sinclair. Woah, I'm glad to see you, man. It's been years."

"I know," replied the guest. "Luka, there's something you need to hear."

"Okay. . ."

"Soon, your world is going to fall into chaos. Lots of people are going to start dying. That's all I can say, but, more importantly, there's a way to contact me if you need my help."

Luka blurted out a stupefied, "What?"

"I know it's unexpected." The one named Sin hummed. "Look, aside from your daughter, you're the only one here with LeRouge in your blood."

"Uh—okay?"

"If you bleed, I'll notice."

"What? And what kind of chaos? What exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying don't die."

"Yeah, why is it you who's telling me that? Where the hell is Dimi? I haven't heard from him all these years. And where's he taken Evaughn? He's not dead, is he. . ."

There he is again.

"Sin," Luka urged.

"The thing about your blood; Mitri tracks it too, and not because he has to," Sin implied. "He hasn't forgotten you. I have to leave, now."

"Hold on. What about Evaughn?"

"He's okay."

"Just okay? What does that. . . And he's gone. To who knows where." Luka groaned, mumbling jargon to himself before finally resuming the task of bringing the suitcases indoors.

When it was quiet, Xavier crouched underneath the many windows lining their house, and scurried away.

He was too occupied replaying that conversation to think about where exactly he was going. Not much about it made sense.

Xavier rested a hand on his head. "I'm just tired."

He walked for a long time, searching for a place to sleep.

.
.
.

Xavier crashed on a bench at a public playground.

It wasn't the best idea, being out in the open, but the sun was lowering and, like anyone else would, he lost the fight against sleep.

His dream was barely a dream.

It was his answer. That answer.

He dreamed a wall of black, with Blackwood's now-familiar voice bouncing and overlapping here and there. His words were puzzle pieces, cut out from pieces of multiple conversations.

                   Redbeard was my father, basically.

               He found me nearly dead.

You're not sick of me talking about myself, are you?

The place was secluded.

This is his, actually. His cigar.

An old building in the middle of nowhere.

               Oh yeah. The Wilds. That's what we called it.

My real name? I have no idea.

I'm okay not knowing it. I think I'd be upset if I remembered it.

I had cancer. Yeah.

Well, not nowhere. It's a forest. Uh. . .

I wonder what you'd say if you could respond.

Are you laughing? That is a laugh. Hahaha.

For some reason, the sound of Blackwood's laugh was what Xavier latched on to. It was pure, and child-like, and far from evil. Blackwood was. . . far from evil.

An old building in a forest called the Wilds. 
Redbeard hid his books there.

Despite finally getting his answer, Xavier had no will to open his eyes. So, he laid on the ocean floor, and imagined the birds.

Right. The birds. When did he forget? They're not much different from clones. Each feathered silhouette is an image of the next. They're always plural. And

"Never lonely." He smiled.

The ocean was tranquil, its waters still.

That is, until it wasn't.

Suddenly, there were ripples in the near distance, rhythmic disturbances that made it impossible to fall back asleep. Xavier opened his eyes, and what he witnessed made him consider that he was actually dreaming this time.

It was blurred at first. Someone, male, was kneeled over another person. The latter's face was hidden, but Xavier was sure that, even with a good view, their face would be unrecognizable.

Like a scene out of a horror movie, the one on top was landing punches on him. Left. Right. Non. Stop.

"Third kill. Hah! I'm definitely winning this game," the man announced, throwing his hands in the air.

Drowned in a sea of his uselessness, the boy was backing away.

He hit a wall. A wall, outside? Ashamed, he quickly backed away from one he bumped into. "I-I'm really sorry."

Her eyes disappeared as she smiled. By the amount of wrinkles around her face, it was as if she held that expression often. The elder was hunched over, holding her weight up with her walker.

"Oh, you don't need to apologize, baby. It's going to take a lot more than that to kill me."

She had a soft graininess to her tone. It made Xavier relax his shoulders.

She looked past him, at the brutality. "Lord have mercy. Some people, and their need to fight to resolve their arguments."

Xavier held his lips together.

"How come you aren't in school, baby?"

"Um. I'm. . . skipping. Class."

She nodded slowly, a tell of how little she believed him. "Are you alright? You look pale. Have you eaten?"

He looked at his feet and held his lower lip.

She noticed. "I've got leftover pasta, and baked potatoes. Would that be alright for you?"

The world seemed to pause, if only for a moment. The boy nearly cried, experiencing firsthand the beginning of kindness. Unable to speak, he merely nodded. Inch by inch, she turned around, then started for the opposite direction.

Beside her, Xavier kept his hands ready in case she lost balance. Not that she really needed it.

"Do you have any pets, dear?" She asked.

"No, ma'am."

"I had a cat once. Tabby. I tried to knit a sweater for her once, and, let's just say, you could fit two Tabbies in that turtleneck."

He chuckled.

"I put those needles right back in their box, and haven't opened it since. And that was in '06! Oh, but Tabby was such a. . ."

~

Her place wasn't far at all. Or maybe the walk just went by quickly.

She showed him the oven, and before she could open it, he kindly stepped forward. "I'll get it, ma'am."

"Thank you, baby."

Xavier slipped on an oven mitt and pulled out the tray of baked potatoes. When he set them on the counter to cool, she was reaching for a cupboard where the dish rack sat. He rushed over to grab the plates in her stead.

She chuckled. "I should exchange you with my grandson. What do you say?"

~

In moments, Xavier found himself seated across from her. Sunlight streaked through her lace curtains, creating nice patterns on the dining table. He twisted his fork in the spaghetti before savoring every bit of it.

He swallow-nodded. "It's really good. Thank you."

"Oh, don't thank me until you're full."

~

Xavier washed the plates. After putting them on the drying rack, he scrunched his lips and took in the cozy atmosphere.

He was going to say his final thanks, and a farewell, when she beat him to it.

"If you don't mind me asking, do you have a place to stay?"

The question unexpected, Xavier forgot words for a moment. He wondered whether to tell her the truth. Becoming a burden was the last thing he wanted.

"Yes. Don't worry." No stutters this time.

"Why don't you take a shower before you leave, at least?"

No way. She still caught the lie?

Xavier looked at the floor and considered it. He'd gone three days without a wash, and who knew when he'd meet someone else as kind as her.

"I, um. I don't have extra clothes."

"That's alright, baby. Come with me," she shuffled towards him, and, holding a palm on his back, led him to the bottom of her staircase. "You'll find the shower up there, and also my grandson's room. Take whatever you'd like from him."

He blinked. "A-Are you sure it's alright, ma'am?"

"Yeah. I spoil that boy way too much." She tapped his back to nudge him. "Go on, baby."

He did feel a bit weird, using someone else's shower, wearing someone else's towel, and parting someone else's closet doors.

With every step, his shoulders were pressed down with a heavy and burdensome guilt.

I shouldn't be here, was a phrase repeated by the voice in his head for the millionth now.

Sighing, Xavier looked for anything that looked old or discarded. Unfortunately, this grandson of hers only had nice clothes.

He settled for something random, then went downstairs carrying a plastic bag of his own dirty clothes. The kind old lady was sitting on an armchair, facing away from him. He had a nice view of the Sudoku puzzle she was working on.

Xavier felt his lips raise. He entered her peripheral carefully. "Um. Hi. I'm finished."

"Ohh," she set aside the book. "Don't you look nice? They fit you nicely. Will you stay for dinner?"

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I appreciate everything you've done, and, um, I can't thank you enough."

She pulled her lips taut. "Well, I'm always here, so feel free to stop by whenever you'd like. It does get lonely."

"Thank you," he smiled.

At last, Xavier went for her door. When he did, the lock began moving on its own. He stepped back. Must be her grandson.

And what a drop it was his heart made when the door opened. It sunk deeper than the ocean floor. And then deeper than that.

Her grandson was. . . him.

And beside him was. . . him.

The urge to disappear had never been stronger.

"Ohh, Nate. Archer. Welcome home. This sweet boy kept me company today. He's just about to head out."

Nathan was shocked at first, but then he was smiling. Archer was stunned for words. They exchanged looks, and whispered to each other.

His heart elsewhere, Xavier's face distorted. He scooted back. How spiteful it was to be fed only the tiniest bite of kindness. "P-Please. I don't want trouble, I only want to—"

"Okay. Go ahead." Nathan stepped aside, holding the door open for him. Archer stepped forward to stand behind Xavier.

In their presence, Xavier was nothing but prey. Like predators, they guarded his exit, making it hardly an exit but bait. He looked back at Nathan's grandmother, and parted his lips. However, the blonde-haired predator saw his strategy.

"Ugh, I'm kind of hungry, Nana."

"Poor Archer, baby. You like baked potatoes, right? I'll heat one up for you." She placed her puzzle down, and went the other way.

Xavier's shoulders dropped. I don't have a choice. . . I'll just make a run for it.

He swallowed dry and, one leg after the other, inched forward. As soon as he passed the doorway, he readied himself to sprint and—there was no and. There were buts.

But Nathan was stronger.

But the world was cruel.