As she roles out of heat's way, a sheen of dew covers Rosalind's arms. The blazing ball of flames disintegrates upon touching the tree line. She pushes herself up to look at Noe. He bursts out of the truck in fury, eyes burning like coal, footsteps drying the grass beneath his soles.
"Don't get mad at me just because you can't accept reality!" she taunts him.
Without breaking his step, Noe raises his arm and swings it forward. Violent flames launch towards Rosalind. This time, as she roles away, it follows her movements. She misses death by a hair's breadth.
"Rosalind, just apologize!" Feng Mian yells from a few meters behind Noe.
"I refuse," she replies, dodging another cannonball of calcification.
"I won't use my powers to calm him down. What happens if I'm not there and you two kill each other? Learn to respect people and apologize; don't let the past repeat itself!"
"What the heck do you know about what happened in the past?!" Rosalind flushes Noe with water. Before she can surround him, he takes the ring of oxygen around her throat and raises her off the ground. Her black shoes slip around in the air.
"Noe was chosen to be with his soulmate for a reason. To insult someone's soulmate is to insult the Omniscient! Even if there was no reason for them being together, you have no right to interfere in their busines- Rosalind! Just apologize already. Is your pride more important than your life? Come on, guys!"
To Feng Mian's exasperation, Rosalind keeps her mouth clamped.
"Noe, you're not helping your soulmate by fighting meaningless battles against Rosalind. What if something has happened to him? You have to go and find him," Feng Mian tries to speak Noe into submission.
"But he doesn't want to see me."
"How do you know that? You've blindly assumed his feelings. What if he needs you now more than ever? Ask him and only believe what he tells you himself. You're not protecting him by getting into fights - you're just destroying his scenic business location."
Rosalind continues to writhe around in the air. Feng Mian worries that she may soon be unconscious but Noe could care less; to Xeron with all who insult Mr. Henderson.
Suddenly, Noe's heart skips a beat. Instability racks through him - white panic. The Veren in his body has stagnated as if Mr. Henderson's soul has vanished.
He lets go of Rosalind and bullets out the park before she even drops to the floor in a heap of desperate heaving.
Noe follows the traces of spiritual energy Mr. Henderson left in his stead. Pedestrians going about the day turn around at the feel of wind brushing against their backs but find nothing passing by them; he is gone by the time they have set eyes where he dashed.
Searching high and low for any traces of the man, Noe picks up screaming in the distance. Digging his feet into the ground and leaving a sizable crater in the asphalt, he vaults into the air like a vexed grasshopper; rapidly, unexpectedly. In the blink of an eye, he has landed within the back alley of a spiring apartment lot.
"NEHRUMA!" a young girl in a frilly red and blue school uniform shrieks, grabbing Mr. Henderson's arm while throwing a tantrum.
"It's okay, I'm listening. What's wrong? Just calm down, please," Mr. Henderson soothes her softly by patting her head and lightly holding the hand she grips him with. After being in such close proximity, Mr. Henderson and Noe's souls appear to have combined to such an extent that he has acquired some of Noe's capabilities - seeing and touching ghosts being one of them.
Shooting across the dank alley, Noe pries her hands off of Mr. Henderson's bruised flesh and installs himself as a barrier between them. Mr. Henderson's green, pink, and white apron securely looped around his waist crinkles as they converge.
The Ghost Girl goes stationary. Observing her more closely, as if tiny bullets have pierced her skin, bloodless crevices demarcate every inch of her exposed body. Her uniform is incessantly spotted by tiny holes.
Wonder slowly fills her eyes as she stares up at Noe.
"Nehruma!" she exclaims in joy. Clamping down on Noe's forearm arm, she drags him away.
Noe takes Mr. Henderson into his arm as they walk away from the city center and towards the shantytown erected in Westville's outer suburbs. He is satisfied to see that the Veren in him has come alive again.
Like a deep wrinkle fraying a senile grandma's frown, the line of towering buildings breaks into acres upon acres of temporary homes. Glued against the brick backs of the city's buildings, heaped cardboard homes lie. No windows dab the buildings that face the town, as if Westville has turned away from those who live here.
"AHH!" children play in the streets, their bare feet caked dark brown. Beating down on the rooves that cover slanting walls and dilapidated facilities, the sun spares no mercy when heating the dry land. Looking around, Noe and Mr. Henderson see no adults around to chaperone the hyper kids that run around.
Ghost Girl continues to lead them down the narrow, dirt roads until they come across a structure exponentially larger than the other houses; a hall of some sort.
Opening the papery double doors, thousands of eyes turn to scrutinize them. Wincing, Mr. Henderson jumps out of Noe's arm and stands a safe meter away from him. When his eyes land on the people before them, he chokes.
All the adults vacant from the path they took are gathered on the floor of the hall, silent.
This is not what shocked Mr. Henderson, no.
It was that each person in the room seems to be missing something: One, an arm. Another, both legs. The man over there absently stares into space. A woman in a red dress has a cavity where a nose usually rests. Another young man in a blue cardigan has Plano sunglasses covering his blind eyes. Almost every elder sits in a wheelchair.
Invisible to everyone but the two soulmates, Ghost Girl pulls Noe down the aisle of the stuffy room. Mr. Henderson follows behind them.
When they reach the front of the hall, Noe feels sorrow overwhelm Mr. Henderson's heart. Ghost Girl steps away.
Hundreds of hand-made picture frames are stamped on the headwall like pedestals for all of them to kneel before in apology. Inside each border smiles the face of a bright teenager in the same red and blue uniform adorning Ghost Girl.
Some wear their uniform with pride while others seem to wish to escape it as soon as possible. However, they each have a single thing tying them together - they have life. And now, that life is gone.
--
Xeron:
The Underworld, ruled by Chaos.
Plano Sunglasses:
Sunglasses worn by the blind to filter out ultraviolet light that may cause their eyes irritation.
The truth of the situation illuminates itself to Noe; the congregation has gathered for a funeral. Sniffles and wails trickle around the room. Burdened by grief, Mr. Henderson befalls his head and places his hand to his heart - as if collecting the tiny pieces it has shattered into.
"Nehruma," Ghost Girl moans whilst she stares at the beaming appearance of a young girl, her own unperturbed face framed right beside it. A deep dimple pricks the bright girl's cheek, as if the Omniscient came down from the Unknown Himself to pin that dimple into her bubbly face.
The brushing of the door, ever so loud in the dejection of the room, spins everyone's heads to gauge the new arrivals.
To the shock of Mr. Henderson and Noe, the five gang members stand in the doorway with one having mounds of bandages creening around his wrist. He jerks and bares his teeth upon making contact with Noe's towering figure.
Carefully, the gang unloads the four huge boxes they brought and begins to hand out their contents: small boxed meals with an envelope stamped to each, possibly containing condolence money. The tattoos on their arms roll with every extension of their tenderness.
Noe carefully follows their movements when Mr. Henderson walks towards one of them - a man he recognizes as having tried to stop the fight between Mr. Henderson and the violent man from escalating.
"Can we talk, Jay?" Mr. Henderson asks him.
The gang member, Jay, nods, "Sure," and walks out of the hall with Mr. Henderson.
Listening in from his position in the hall, Noe hears:
"What happened?" Mr. Henderson inquisits.
"A few years ago, the adults in this town begged the government to build a school and staff it with teachers who would provide good schooling for their children; they wanted their kids to have the bright future they never had the chance to chase. The town promised to give the government anything it wanted in return. So, this massive school was built and things were going well. Every day, hope left to go get educated and came back home in time for dinner," Noe hears Jay pause and suck in a wavering breath.
"Last week, none of the kids came home from school. We received word that they had all died and nothing more. The gang visited the school and it's just a pile of rubble now. Yesterday, a government official came and informed us that, in exchange for funding the school, everyone was to leave this town - all the land in the area is being redeveloped. The thing is, there is nowhere to go. The rest of the dome is already occupied. No children, no jobs, and no homes, what can they do?"
"How can the government do this? Don't these people have rights?" Noe appears and asks the question that had been racking his brain since he entered the shantytown.
Mr. Henderon explains, "Around the time when you were six or seven, Westville was facing an overpopulation crisis. The populace kept growing but there was nowhere in the dome to expand to. The city was packed and resources were waning. There wasn't enough time to construct a new dome and let fall the old one. Thus, the government announced a screening: Every person over the age of eight was to be tested for mental debilitation and whether they are able-bodied.
However, the dome doesn't stop all the nuclear radiation from the outside, only most of it. It was built in 2025 and the year was 2067 - most people had been born with genetic mutations that stole an arm, a leg, or rendered them mentally handicapped. In the blink of an eye, it was announced that thousands of people were 'stripped of privileges', or rather, their human rights. Homes, jobs, possessions, they lost everything - just like what's happening to them now."
As Mr. Henderson completes his narration, he glances up into Noe's eyes and is lost within their depths.
Noe leans over and places a hand on Mr. Henderson's cheek. "It wasn't your fault. You don't have to cry," Noe dabs away a loose tear that dripped of Mr. Henderson's compassion.
Jay gruffly clears his throat. "Look guys, I have to go back in and finish up," he swiftly turns around and leaves them n their fantasy world.
Again, cold, wet dread licked his face, Mr. Henderson adopts a manner of discomfort. Escaping from Noe's tenderness, he rushes away from the hall.
This time, Noe chases after him. They meet within a narrow, off-white street bordering two lines of slanting households. Gently taking Mr. Henderson's hand into his own, Noe stops the man's rapid retreat.
Noe begins, "Why did you run away?"
Turned away from him, Mr. Henderson drags his hand out of Noe's embrace. "I'm the adult here. I can't let this go on any longer."
"I'm not a child. I'm clearly bigger than you, Mr. Henderson."
"Not emotionally."
Noe ponders his words. "What does any of that have to do with anything? I lov-"
"You still view me as someone to respect unconditionally," Mr. Henderson swivels around to look at Noe, eyes laced with anguish. "A person in a position of power over you. Until you stop viewing me as such, I cannot go any further."
"Mr. Henderson, what makes you think I see you as someone of higher position than I?"
"Please prove me wrong, then. What's my name?"
"Mr. Henderson."
"No, Noe. It's Daniel."
"What do names have to do with how I feel?"
"You don't understand, it's okay. I know you're on the autism spectrum," Mr. Henderson smiles ruelly.
"What? You think just because I was diagnosed with Autism, I don't know the meaning of my own emotions? Autism is not a mental illness."
"That's not what I was saying."
"That's exactly what you were saying! Autism. Autism. Autism. That's all I ever hear people say about me. But, you know what, Daniel? My name is not Autism. I am Noe. Just because I don't relate to people as well or behave the way others do, you think I am another species? I mean, I am, but that's a completely different conversation. If you even try to see me as someone and not something that you have labeled with a diagnosis, you might be surprised at the person you find - someone who is loyal to only one, a person who views the world in a unique light, and one who does not waste words on things which are not important."
"I'm the adult here. You're still at a vulnerable age."
"I'm of a legal age; I'm nineteen. I feel like we're going around in circles he-"
"That doesn't make you any less fragile. It's not as if your age automatically matures you. Maybe I did something, or said something in the past to influence the way you see me-"
"That's not the case."
"-or you just look up to me as a person. Maybe that's-" Daniel cuts himself off as he sees people walking near them. He lowers his voice until it is almost indiscernible. "Maybe that's what it is."
A pause rings through them. "I see," Noe casts his eyes to the feet trudging by.
"What do you see, Noe?"
"It's not me that you're worried about. It's the way people will view you, a thirty-six-year-old perfect man, with me, a nineteen-year-old boy who could be rejected by society at any time. You ran away earlier because Rosalind and Feng Mian caught us in the moment. You feel the same way I feel towards you, I am sure of it or you wouldn't look so regretful. For how long are you going to recklessly abandon your own life in order to appease the opinions of others?"
Daniel raises his hand to rest it on Noe's shoulder, "Noe, that's not-"
Someone in the group that walked by casts a glance in their direction causing Daniel to flinch and drop his hand.
Wordlessly, Noe faces Daniel. An atmosphere of helplessness takes them captive until the silence is broken.
"I have to go back and see if I can help the gang with anything," Daniel walks around Noe. Their shoulders brush and send a shockwave up both of their spines.
"You know you're my soulmate, right?" Noe attempts to sway him one more time.
"Is that so?" Daniel continues down the path and vanishes from Noe's vision.
Itching, Noe places his hand against his neck and scratches. The sensation in his heart is not of heartbreak but of loss; as if a handful of cotton wool has clogged his arteries and he can no longer breathe.
He tries to compute what just transpired between them but there seems to be a glitch in his system.
"He's here!" Feng Mian's chiming jingles into Noe's torment.
"Where?" Rosalind asks from a distance away.
"Here!" she shouts louder.
Observing Noe's hunched form, she senses his stormy weather.
"What's wrong?" she caresses his back.
"I told you; he doesn't want to see me," Noe spews before turning around and heading back towards the hall. Daniel's soul energy has snuffed out again. He must go ensure his soulmate is okay.
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