The Sad Side of Happy

4: trepidation

TWO DAYS. IT HAS been approximately two days since the incident; since Elisa spoke with Marc and Tyra. Elisa never saw Marc around the campgrounds ever since. She wasn't worried she wouldn't see him; it wasn't a problem at all. But she was rather worried about how he lived his life in the camp. They stared at the same stars. Shared the same sun. Shared the same forest. It ached how close yet far they were. It killed her.

Elisa stepped on the cobblestones, walked past the pathway that led up the cliff, and went straight for the open ground—the playground—where children played and counted down numbers as they played hide and seek. It was peaceful until you found out the terrible things happening to those children when they were at the so-called "home."

Elisa sat by the benches across the adult swings and observed the children. The children wore wide smiles. Some were timid and hesitant to go play with the other kids but some of the counselors, watching out, told them it was okay to go and make friends. Elisa could see through their eyes and smiles—they have never felt this kind of happiness at home. She felt the same way. Then again, everyone else felt the same level of happiness—the bottommost kind of level—until Tyra's therapy camp; until every person was introduced to real things, real feelings, and real people.

Elisa knew Tyra never put up a catharsis camp to help children and adults survive life—she put up the catharsis camp to help herself heal after the accident. To watch other people heal. To convince herself that she could heal, too. Elisa accepted the fact that Tyra was sometimes selfish. And rude. She knew for a fact she couldn't change Tyra into a sweet second mother figure she always wanted her to be. All she could do was accept whatever kind of relationship Tyra could offer—because no one else was there for her at the moment.

"Earth to Elle Bree," Charles Finn said and waved his hands in front of Elisa's face.

Elisa smacked his hands lightly. "I told you not to call me that anymore," she said. Elisa's second name was Bree but she didn't want anybody calling her that again ever since her Dad died and Marc just went missing a couple of months after because it reminded her of them, because the only three men who she allowed to call her Bree were them, and the person talking to her at the moment.

Elisa Bree Ridley. Charles Finn Ridley. The Ridley family loved second names a lot it ridiculously ran in the family.

Charles Finn went to sit on one of the adult swings across Elisa. Once he's settled, he spoke, "Well, it's just me. I'm here to call you that name again."

"You know why we don't call each other our second names," she said, glancing at Charles Finn's direction.

"There's history in our names that I do not want to ever vividly explain to anyone in detail, yes, but I've got no problem with everyone calling me Finn. Much less, Charlie Finn." He hunched his back and started swinging. "I liked calling you Elle Bree, Elle Bree," he joked. "Reminds me of good ole' days."

Elisa was always cautious around Charles Finn, scared to bring up the past, but he always had a way of mentioning it all the time. "Do you miss it?" Elisa asked in a low voice.

"Miss what? Our past life?" They always called it their past life, as if their younger years were a bunch of taboo they shouldn't ever, ever talk about. When Elisa didn't answer, he continued, "The good parts. Missed them good parts and only good parts, Elle Bree."

"Charles Finn," she spoke, "what if we're given the chance to go back, which memory would you want to relive?"

"The memory of everything from the past life," he answered after thinking for a second. "You know, it's not so bad that we talk about it now."

"Yeah," she said. Elisa's thoughts wondered about a green-eyed-dark-haired boy and instantly, the memories from their last interaction were recalled. The whole fiasco was, however, a complete blur to Elisa; she was slowly forgetting that she almost wanted to throw herself off the cliff, that she met the guy she never thought could still be alive up until now, that her Dad's not anymore best friend acted as if she didn't recognize Marc. Of course, Tyra knew. Of course, she recognized him and his lucid scar and his tendencies.

"Do you miss them?" Charles Finn asked, staring as he waited for her answer.

"Nothing to miss," she answered with a heavy sigh. Elisa stood up and sat beside his swing. The two of them started swinging slowly, alternately. After a long stretch of silence, Elisa's swing slowly came to a halt. And Charles Finn's then, too.

"I still think about Marc."

At this statement, Elisa sharply turned her neck in his direction, shocked. It took her a moment to reply. Charles Finn didn't have the softest heart when it came to Marc Khader. For a moment, she thought he deserved to know; she thought it was better to warn him in case they bumped into each other. But Elisa knew it wasn't the right thing at this point. She knew her cousin had some tendencies. The last thing she wanted being for Charles Finn to throw punches at innocent Marc for ghosting on both of them for three years (and counting for Charles Finn).

"You're not alone," Elisa said, forcing the words to come out of her, "I still think about him, too."

Charles Finn didn't respond to that, but he took the time when silence pooled in to watch the sadness etch into his cousin's features. Her eyes looked tired and her mouth was curved downwards into a frown, it might as well have been permanent.

"Hey, is something bothering you?" Charles Finn asked.

She shook her head automatically, defensive. "I was just thinking. I'm probably going to do hours of community service. It's going to suck."

"What kind of trouble did you get into this time?"

'Tried to jump off the cliff,' she thought. "The usual. And saying that a fellow counselor jacked himself in the forest."

He laughed loudly, knowing who she meant. "Geez, you snitched? You've been here for like two weeks and already putting yourself in lots of trouble," Charles Finn said, delighted.

"Nah." Elisa shook her head, chuckling. "It's all a lie, you know. That was all simply a joke."

"You just ruined the whole thing. I was going to say I'm proud and that it was nice to know a cousin who isn't much of a geek," he said in a deadpan.

Elisa chuckled silently and gave him a sidelong look. "You reckon? I think I'm both a geek and a notorious."

He replied with a loud cackle. "You okay, though? If you need someone—"

"I'm fine," Elisa interrupted. "I'm fine. Feeling great." But the look she was projecting seemed too distant as if something was bothering her.

Charles Finn stared at her for a few seconds, studying her cautious look before he let it go. He didn't want to pry if she didn't want him to know. "All right." He stood up and patted the back of his pants to remove the dirt. "Time for a session. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," she responded.

Charles Finn was a younger brother to Elisa—considering his Dad was now her guardian s***h parent—she was glad he had him through thick and thin. She was tied to the hip with him ever since he was an awkward sack of fat who always went outside his Dad's house with no shirt on—and that was when he was six years old and started growing some conscience in that thick head of his. He loved it when it was Summer, always called for Elisa to head with him to the beach.

Marc Khader was a different chapter in his book. He was like an older brother. Sometimes an uncle. Sometimes a grandfather. Because he was always there for Charles Finn when he was sad, or when his Dad wasn't around. He was the one who volunteered to go to the beach with him instead of Elisa. He was his only best buddy before everything went completely insane.

When nobody could turn the page back to chapter one, everyone went on with their lives—including Charles Finn, who eventually decided to forget Marc, because the latter never came back.

When Tyra wasn't in her cabin office, Elisa decided to make a quick visit to search through the second quarter's client profiles. She knew Tyra kept a stash of everyone's medical and family history before they enrolled in the catharsis camp. If she wasn't an exception, then Marc Khader is on the list as well. The only problem was she had already gone through Tyra's desk and drawers filled with papers and important files but found neither her nor Marc's credentials.

Something was seriously off, and Elisa had an instinct Tyra was hiding something.

Frustrated, she swatted the sweat off her forehead, sighed heavily, and sat down on the floor with a loud thump. It made a hollow sound. The floor wasn't supposed to make a hollow sound—it was as if there's space beneath it. Elisa stood and stomped on the same spot on the floor. She tried walking away, listening to the sound her footsteps made. But the hollow sounds only silenced the farther she walked from the spot before. Elisa was fueled with a newfound determination. She moved back to where Tyra's desk was situated and moved it away so she could remove the floor mat beneath it.

There was a small keyhole. Tyra only had one key for every desk in this office. This keyhole shouldn't be any different than the rest. She was right. Elisa pulled the wood piece away and discovered a few piles of papers beneath. Trepidation filled her entire body. She was suddenly too aware of her surroundings—her senses heightening from the discovery.

"Don't panic," she muttered to herself. Her sweaty palms began to shake relentlessly. Her face was covered with cold sweat, the back of her shirt drenched with sweat. She was sweating everywhere, it made her anxious.

"Stay with me, stay with me," she muttered, clenched her teeth and balled her hands into a fist. She stared at the pile of papers and notebooks beneath her. A small book with slightly torn-at-the-edges brown leather cover stood out amongst the pile. Seemed like it held valuable information. She took it with shaking hands and returned everything the way it was—as if the secret undercroft was never discovered.

She sat on the sofa by the window, exhausted, and placed the small book inside her shoulder bag. Elisa knew whatever mischief she did was going to put her into even more serious trouble. But she had questions that would never get answered.

By the time Tyra arrived in her cabin office, Elisa was wheezing on the floor. "Oh, my god, Elisa, Elisa," Tyra chanted, dropped her bag and ran to her. "Look at me, Elisa. Look at me."

Elisa opened her heavy lids and tried to focus on Tyra's alert eyes. "Inhale, Elisa. Inhale. Five seconds." She did. "Exhale, now. Seven seconds." Tyra counted down patiently, making sure she heard her breathe the way she instructed her to. A few minutes after, Elisa regained consciousness. Her breathing was back, and her perspiration reduced.

"How are you feeling?" Tyra asked. She sat down beside her and handed her water.

"Better now." Elisa accepted the bottle with shaking hands. She was still anxious. Carefully, she uncapped the bottle and deliberately drank half of the content inside. Without hesitation, Tyra pulled Elisa in a sideways hug and held her for a few seconds. Tyra's hand rubbed Elisa's back in circles, trying to soothe her.

"I thought I was going to lose you again," Tyra whispered silently, Elisa almost didn't catch it. She was too stunned and too tired to move, so she allowed whatever physical contact they were doing. For now.

'Again?' Elisa thought. 'Does she know?' "My panic attacks are getting worse," she muttered in Tyra's shoulder.

"What?"

"My panic attacks are getting worse," she said again when Tyra pulled away from the hug.

"I heard you the first time," Tyra replied. "But what do you mean they're getting worse? Can you describe to me what happened?"

Elisa knew she had to lie. She lied about panicking at the sight of the secret files hidden beneath the floor they sat on and instead said, "I waited for about half an hour and got anxious."

"Were you alone?"

"Yes," came Elisa's short reply. "I had an episode and the door was open so I got in, tried to calm down but failed." She hoped the excuse was convincing. She placed the bottle between her outstretched legs as Tyra watched with suspecting eyes.

"Were you waiting for me? I'm sorry I wasn't here. Are you sure you're okay? I told you to attend your therapy sessions. They said you never show up."

"I don't feel like going," Elisa replied. "I said I'm fine. And...I'm here because I wanted to ask you something."

"Attend your sessions and I'm going to answer them."

"I will." Elisa shifted on her sitting position and faced Tyra. "Please be honest, Tyra. Just this once. I'm not going to ask again."

"You don't have to know everything, Elisa," Tyra replied, sighing.

Elisa said, "I don't have to, but I want to know why he's here."

"Same reason as you are," Tyra replied, not missing a beat. She seemed agitated at the mention of Marc Khader. "Listen, El—"

"What happened to him?" she prodded.

"It's none of your concern."

"You don't understand, Tyra. I need to know—"

"You don't have to," Tyra intervened with a sharp tone, staring at her. "And it's best if you both don't interact with each other. Don't talk to him and he'll stay away from you." Tyra furrowed as Elisa stared back at her in utter surprise. "You're here for a reason, and so is Marc. He's trying to find his way, and so are you."

"No! That can't be right. You see...I recognize him—and, I know — no, I think he recognizes me, too! We both just—" Elisa stuttered, her hands shaking as she tried to search for words to make Tyra understand that Marc Khader was important to her. That she desperately needed to know what happened to him. Or why she hid his files beneath her desk, beneath the wooden floor. "I feel like I'm figuring out a way to solve this puzzle piece, but I have a lot missing."

"You're giving yourself a hard time, Elisa—"

"I am not!"

"If you do as you please, you're going to break him, Elisa," Tyra said. "If he finds out you know him and his past—"

"I don't intend on letting him know," Elisa spoke, gently. "I just want to know why he suddenly...disappeared. Left without a trace."

Tyra sighed and stood up. "It's something too personal even his family cannot reveal."

"If Dad were here, he would've told me about this," she prodded. "You know Dad would tell me everything when it came to Marc, Tyra, even when he wasn't fond of him."

"James hated that boy."

"He is my Dad. If someone knew who he liked or disliked, it'd be me."

"He's gone now, Elisa!" Tyra exclaimed, "I'm here. I'm the one responsible for you—"

"Stop it! That's not true!" Elisa threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "Uncle John is the one responsible for me and my sister, not you! Just because I'm here doesn't mean you have to watch over me all the time and limit me from what I deserve to know!"

"None of that matters anymore," Tyra calmly replied. "Your Dad didn't want you getting involved in the Khader's story, all right? It's best if we leave it that way."

"Allow me to just — read the notes from Marc's doctor so I could understand?" Elisa tried, even when it felt immoral to do so. "I had at least three notes the past week, I'm sure he also—"

"That's an invasion of privacy, Elisa," replied Tyra. "You're in no position to access private information about anyone in this camp. I can't allow you to do that."

"I'm asking for your permission, Ty—"

"Stop!" Tyra seethed in anger. "That's enough. Enough."

After a few seconds of silence, Elisa declared, "You know something." She paused. "No, you know everything. But why would you — why hide it from me, Tyra?"

"It's the only way I can protect you. Now, go back to your cabin and get some rest."