Chapter 6
1325 Words
Night descended, and the city lights began to twinkle.
The city's neon lights brightened the dark night sky.
Archer, carrying a strawberry cake, went to the apartment complex where his mother, Winnie, lived. Gazing at the countless lights of the homes, he felt no warmth in his heart.
Because not a single light was lit for him.
Just as he reached the stairwell, he saw his mother hurrying down the stairs, dragging a suitcase.
Winnie, in her early forties, appeared especially haggard from working tirelessly to make ends meet.
"Archer, I have some things to attend to. Make yourself some dinner, or go home!" The "home" Winnie referred to was that of Archer's father, Leonard.
Archer is technically under his father’s custody.
"Mom, are you in a hurry? Would you like to have some cake with me?" Archer asked with anticipation.
"I don't have time now; I'll go over it with you next time." Winnie glanced at her watch.
"Can't you spare even a few minutes?" Archer pleaded once more.
"No, you are eighteen, now and an adult. You need to be more reasonable." Winnie said this and then resolutely turned to leave.
As he watched his mother's departing figure, Archer's eyes reflected profound loneliness and desolation.
What different would it make to tell her about that matter?
It would only cause her to feel sad and heartbroken sooner.
Even after make arrangement for her own funeral, she continued to work tirelessly, undeterred by wind and rain.
Winnie had a male colleague at work, who was also divorced had been pursuing her.
Archer believed that if it weren't for him, his mother might have had even fewer worries and might have found happiness once more.
She would have had someone to care for her in her old age.
"I'm eighteen years old and an adult, am I sensible enough?"
After a careful consideration, Archer decided to go home.
His young shoulders could not bear such a heavy burden.
They say a father's love is like a mountain, always there to lean on in times of need.
He carefully carried the delicate strawberry cake as he tirelessly crossed half the city.
The night wind was mildly chilly, causing a shiver to run down his spine.
Stepping out of the elevator, Archer noticed his front door ajar, with warm yellow light spilling from the living room.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." A joyful birthday song filled the room.
Archer suddenly remembered that today was his younger brother Werner's birthday.
According to the customs of their rural hometown, their birthdays were determined using the lunar calendar.
However, at school, teachers and students generally only remembered the Gregorian calendar and the days of the week.
Archer and Werner had a significant age different, and their sibling relationship was quite distant, resembling that between a legitimate and an illegitimate son in ancient times.
In previous years, if Archer happened to be present for Werner's birthday, he would receive a free meal; if he missed it, he did not mind.
He felt like an outsider within this family.
Werner's voice came through: "Mom and Dad, I hope our family of three is happy and joyful. You must celebrate my birthday with me every year."
Indeed, in their eyes, this family consisted of only three people.
Tina asked, "Honey, should we call to find out if Archer is coming back?"
Leonard replied nonchalantly, "No need. He is probably at his mother's. He well know to return on his own." The family of three joyful shared their birthday cake.
The laughter and chatter felt like knives, piercing Archer's heart.
At that moment, he felt completely unnecessary.
His father was fully immersed in the joy of family reunion. Was he truly so insensitive as to inform him of the terminal illness diagnosis?
If he were no longer in this world, it would be a blessing for the three of them.
He would no longer have to constantly prick them like a thorn.
Archer experienced a profound sense of despair. Just as he was about to turn and leave, his stepmother, Tina, pushed open the door and saw his helpless state.
"Archer, you are back. Why aren't you coming in?"
Archer stood frozen, like a thief caught red-handed, spying on someone else's happiness.
He lowered his head and stepped into the house, timidly calling out, "Dad."
Leonard responded with indifference.
Each time he crossed that door, he felt a sense of apprehension, as though walking on thin ice.
A large, beautifully decorated cake, piled high with colorful fruits and chocolates, sat on the dining table.
In comparison, his small cake appeared remarkable inexpensive and unattractive.
Leonard said in a deep voice, "Today is Werner's birthday. Wash your hands and then enjoy cake together!"
Archer felt the air grow oppressively heavy, as if frozen.
His arrival had several disrupted the previously harmonious atmosphere.
He stammered, "You guys eat first; I'll go back to my room to get something."
After saying that, he hurry back to his room, slammed the door shut, and finally caught his breath.
To conceal his earlier excuse, Archer retrieved a bamboo flute from deep inside a drawer.
It was a prize he had won in a music competition as a child; he had not played it in years and was completely out of practice.
Shortly afterward, Werner knocked on the door and said, "Mom and Dad asked me to bring you a cake."
Archer took a deep breath, opened the door, and said in a hoarsely, "Werner, thank you, happy birthday."
Werner slipped into the room, his eyes landing on the strawberry cake with disdain.
Having been pampered since childhood and not having the same mother, he felt little affection for his brother.
The stereotype is that he is merely a bookworm with excellent grades.
"Actually, you didn't need to come back. You didn't like coming back, and I didn't like it either." Werner said with hostility, clearly displeased that Archer had disturbed their family's happiness.
"I'm leaving now." Archer quickly grabbed the cake and bamboo flute and left the bedroom.
Seeing this, Tina pretended to be concerned and asked, "Archer, where are you going so late?"
Archer paused and stared intently at his father. "Dad, I have a lot of studying to do right now. It will be more convenient for me to stay with Mom. Can you come pick me up in three months?" Leonard was somewhat taken aback, finding Archer's tone unusual today.
Three months later, it seemed he was going graduate.
"It's okay if you don't come," Archer said disappointedly, and then quickly rushed out of the room.
Tears welled up in his eyes as soon as the elevator doors closed.
He genuinely envied Werner.
He clearly had parents, but it seemed as if he did not.
A great misfortune had befallen him, and he had no with whom to confide.
Stepping out of the residential compound, he may have experienced a surge of intense emotion that triggered a latent illness within him.
Warm drops of blood trickled from Archer's nostrils onto the gray paving stones.
The crimson blood matched the color of the tassel at the end of his bamboo flute.
He will likely be gone from this world within three months.
Ultimately, whether they took him home was unimportant.
Whether the body was reduced to ashes and buried, or its remains scattered to the wind, it made no different.
Life was so bitter; there probably wouldn't be a next one, right?
Archer, bamboo flute in hand, wandered aimlessly through the streets at night.
He used many tissues but still could not stop the nosebleed.
He suddenly remembered that at noon, when he was with Jocelyn, he had also experienced a nosebleed.
The girl gently touched the back of his head with her warm fingertips, effortlessly stopping the bleeding.
Thinking of Jocelyn's smiling face, a glimmer of warmth stirred within his lonely, cold heart.
- Writer
