chapter eleven : easter sunday
chapter eleven of cosmo hunters!
word count : 8.3k words
synopsis : easter is perhaps the best holiday to go back home to. after having come back to new orleans, hope has begun to familiarize herself with the town she neglected returning to for so long. a breakaway from exploration, and a time for bonding.
for a while, she was accustomed to waking up to a low hum of her ship. at times she would hear the miniature drips from the tap in the bathroom, or the radiators turning on upon sensing her stir or awake in the middle of the night. artificial sounds for a person who lived on a spaceship.
in the time where she had been far from home, she had lost her connection from the ambient sounds that was ensued from a fresh morning. the birds singing, the rattling of pans in the kitchen, the chatter from the road outside her window, the faint jazz that could be heard from next door.
hope left new orleans nearly a year ago and hasnât come back, so it was strange to awake to something that wasnât her alarm clock. it was more like a weight pressing against her sides, not one to bother but one to be aware of. this bit of weight also had some soft hair brushing against the side of her face.
it took her some blinks to adjust. being bathed in sunlight at the sight of your old bedroom growing up was a sensation that not many can describe. not a thing had been touched, relics of a young hope who had unfortunately grown up from her band phases and her obsession with plushies, and who had now developed into a particularly cold woman.Â
this cold woman, though, was able to stir on her side and bring her brotherâs sleeping figure closer, seeing that some of the bedsheets had slipped from his body. upon adjusting it over him, she saw his sleeping face soften and his breathing deepen, he was fast asleep.
from what she had heard, he had the same problem with sleeping that she did. the inability to relax and let go of the events you went through that day, the fight to let the night became your ally and something to rely on when your body needed the rest it craved. instead, the night became more of a sour friend, one which you would greet through your waking moments and continue to bathe in until the sun entered.
it was surprising, to say the least. she never thought insomnia could affect people on such a large scale, especially for a kid his age. but the absence of fun and lively activities that tired him supposedly made him more active and it was harder to put him to bed. he was going to turn eleven in may and yet he had a sleep disorder that shouldâve affected him in the later years of his teenagehood.
heâs been through a lot, she thought to herself, brushing her fingers against every delicate detail on his face. connor had been robbed of his childhood because of this sudden illness that took hold of him, and there wasnât a fiber in his sisterâs body that didnât want to get rid of it. but it required time and a lot of money. money might not be an issue, it was just time. time which hope may not have. because time was the catalyst for the paralyzation.
fighting through an early frown, hope allowed this embrace to linger for just a little longer, to provide the kid the warmth she had failed to give him during the time he needed her the most. hope felt awful for having left him, and she wanted to do anything to make up for it.
but to think that sheâs going to be gone even after all of this is over . . . again.
sighing, hope looked down to her bed and saw something soft peeking through the sheets. she knew it was soft the moment she saw the dent and felt her feet brush against something composed of fluff. reaching from within the bedsheets, she grasped and fished out something that had her smiling from ear to ear.
it was harold, the duckie. he had been quite a big part of hopeâs childhood. after winning him at a funfair, he was the equivalent of a best friend when the girl found herself unpopular in the early stages of elementary school. when people wouldnât be her friend, harold was there to give her a cuddle when she felt loneliest.
he had quite a big head and two pink spots on his cheeks, suggesting a timid and embarrassing set of blushes. the outfit hope had picked for him was a t-shirt housing the name of her favorite football team, the new orleans saints. very patriotic but she loved being from this tropical town in the south.
aside from the aging smell of fabric, nothing on this yellow friend had changed. he remained still as adorably angry and fluffy as usual, and she knew mostly it was because of connorâs soft touch when it came to toys, he treated them with care. especially harold.
the young woman could almost imagine how he ended up here when he was supposed to be on the shelves with all the other plushies. connor had most likely reached to them and brought it with him when he determined to tuck in beside his sister.
setting her yellow friend to the side, hope turned back to connor whose lashes were batting and eyes flickered between the border of being awake and remaining in his blissful dreams. but as heartbreaking as it was to wake him up when he needed sleep the most, she found that she had to.
â wake up, tyke. â
he stirred slightly, and then the stygian pair of eyes soon looked back towards her, eyes which resembled hers in almost every way. they housed a brightness that can only be seen in that of children. the innocence remained in his soul, perhaps justifying his purity and goodness and inability to do bad things even though he might be tempted.
there was a cluster of stars in the eyes of this child and hope never wished them to burn out, as all stars do. she knew this constellation would be eternal.Â
connor soon smiled and rubbed his pure eyes with his hands that had balled into fists and then loosened to pat around in search of something. she then placed harold back into his grasp and offered the boy a meek smile. â i wanted to make sure he wasnât lonely â, he uttered in perhaps the softest voice she had heard yet.
hope rose on her elbow and allowed her cheek to lean against the open palm of her hand. â does he get lonely when iâm not around? â, she asked delicately and connor nodded. â i canât blame him, we were really good friends growing up. â
suddenly, the mellowness in connorâs face was contorted with an expression hope never wanted to see again, and it was that of some sort of puzzlement intertwined with deep sadness, something a kid should never feel at this early stage. sadness was a universal feeling, and no one deserved it no matter how natural it was.
â i think heâs going to be my only friend â, connor croaked and then held harold to his chest, squeezing him so tightly it felt like he was throwing all of his strength onto a plushie, the type of embrace youâd see a kid giving a reliable adult. yet he remained so innocent. â s-some kids at school donât like to sit with me. they donât play with me because my wheelchair gets in the way. â
hope had to lower her head for a while. this was exactly what she feared. the prejudice that people show can easily be mistaken by something else in the naive mind of a child, theyâre too young to learn about the problems of the world, they shouldnât have to be exposed to any sort of maltreatment at this age.Â
especially if it was a personal experience. she couldnât even begin to imagine the face of her younger brother drop as he watches the kids outside being able to swing from monkey bars and squeal down a slide or dance through hopscotch. he was different. and he was labeled as different because no one was willing to make him feel like he could be like everyone else.
and thatâs what she hated, what made her blood boil, what made her want to grab a fucker by the throat and slam them against the wall before asking, âheâs a kid, why do you make him feel as if he deserves this?!â. because he didnât. he didnât deserve any of it. he didnât ask for the illness and he most certainly didnât ask to be treated like an alien when the sickness already took half of his childhood away.
instead of making him feel like heâs worthy of some sort of happiness, regardless of what it takes the form of, they choose to humiliate him and make him feel separate from everyone else. a kid should never feel like they have to separate themselves from people, that people donât want to be near them. kids like connor had to feel like they were capable of imprinting the world with color instead of staining it with hatred.
hope might have not been there for him during these times, she knew of her absence and how it might have hurt her darling brother. it was why she pulled him into her arms and allowed his body to relax once more against hers. it was why she tried to give time for him now, to utter some words that might hopefully stick with him.
â ever heard of universal kindness? â, she inquired and felt the gentle head shake against her neck. â itâs being able to be good and kind to everyone no matter what they say or do. some people arenât universally kind, connor. but you are. youâre the kindest kid iâve ever met and iâm so . . .â. she had to pause as to avoid getting emotional.
â i-iâm beyond proud, iâm more than proud of you for that. so even when people arenât kind to you, never let it be a reason for you to give up on people. always try to be peopleâs friends because one day, there is going to be that one person who will play with you and like you even if youâre in a wheelchair. â
her fingers now brushed through his jet black locks and tickled behind his ear, he seemed to have relaxed once more. and upon taking a glance down, she noticed that beam return to his face and thatâs what gave her the strength to return it, giving him a light squeeze in her arms.
i may be the most flawed individual in this world but there is nothing i wouldnât do for my baby brother or my family, she thought.
it was difficult to get out of bed, especially with the cuddle he was giving her but the moment she heard the rattling of pans grow louder and the smell of pancakes with apples and cinnamon, her stomach roared and she was soon making her bed and getting ready for the day.
connor had managed to get back on his wheelchair and went to immediately see his mother whilst hope chose her outfit for the day and then opted to shower first before anything else. except, of course, someone was already in the shower and she had to wait.
once the door opened, she leaned off from the wall and spotted dom. his hair seemed to have been washed as it appeared wet and he looked refreshed, some tinted pinkness in his cheeks from the shower but it wasnât natural enough to disguise the bruise.
she glanced at him for a moment when he took notice of her and gave out a grumbled good morning. her lips quivered but she chose to speak, â what are you using to make it heal quicker? â.
he stopped slightly and turned to look at her, fixing a cold gaze onto her figure. she gulped and continued. â the bruise. it might heal quicker if you use something on it rather than covering it up with make-up. i-i can ask my mom to make sometâ â.
â âis the guilt starting to settle in, captain? â.
her cheeks now burned.Â
perhaps she did feel a slap of guilt across the face every time she saw it, it wasnât a nice sight and it wasnât nice at all to know that she was behind it. having received a similar injury before, she could tell it hurt. but what angered her the most was why she had done it in the first place.
thinking back on it now, it was rather childish. but then again, he had struck a nerve he shouldnât have. it was difficult to tell exactly who was at fault, but hope knew she had done it regardless and she didnât want to be reminded of it every time she saw the purple mark just below his eye.
â y-yes, it is â, she managed to say. but then didnât linger long enough to see his reaction. she found that she was growing vulnerable around these people, allowing her weaknesses to be seen. sheâs never been bashful near anyone, yet here she was.
hope entered the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her, before letting out a sigh of relief.
it was a good ten minutes inside that bathroom, taking care of herself and allowing just a few moments to relax, she canât easily lay back and enjoy a tender moment with her family like some people. hence why when she came home, it was always counted as a special occasion.
rarely getting in touch with her feminine side, hope decided that a summer dress would do underneath a denim jacket. this was mostly how she dressed at home, her mother would often wear clothes that made her look ten years younger. it was a trend in the everhart house to never get old.
â there she is! â.
hope smiled sweetly at her mother upon entering the kitchen. the pancakes she made every easter had remained a tradition since before hope was even born, so it was no wonder her dad was up early and so was connor, eating and chatting away at the table.
peering into the living room, she spotted vivienne braiding dawnâs hair for the day, though she didnât see enzo nor quinn. it was weird, enzo had completely disappeared last night and supposedly he came back when most were still asleep.
vivienne, looking up, saw the puzzled expression on the captainâs face. â heâs still in bed, i suppose he got some severe jet-lag and crashed after a trip to the bar last night â, she voiced.
â he went to the bar? â, hope repeated.
â yes, with dominic. â
sighing, hope wandered to where he was staying. he had crashed in connorâs room, and she could tell this because she saw his bag as soon as she pushed the door open. and there enzo was, still tucked away in bed, bare arms exposed to the fresh exhales of the wind entering through the open windows.
so he had gone out for a drink. she didnât know much about the guyâs background nor if he was accustomed to earth, but most people tended to go to bars for a breakaway from the hectic lives they lead. a pirate must lead a hectic lifestyle, even if it consists mainly of stealing and running from authorities.
just how exhausted was he? hope walked over and let a passing gaze over his sleeping face before leaning down slightly and shaking him by the arm, he grunted and soon his eyes flew open. â morning, cap. breakfast is served â, she mumbled and allowed him to slowly sit up.
â uh . . . w-what time is it? â, enzo asked through a yawn.
â nine oâclock. we mostly sleep in during easter but mom has some nice things planned for all of us â, she replied. his eyes lingered around the simple bedroom belonging to her brother before resting on her. â you should really get ready and dressed, itâll be fun. and iâll ask dad to whip you up a shake for the hangover. â
â what will it consist of? â.
â well, bananas, blueberries, watermelon . . . maybe some eggs if you decide youâre going to take an eternityâ â.
â âiâm up. â
back in the kitchen, hope was able to sit down with a plate of those magical pancakes along with a glass of apple juice. and for the first time in a while, she took her tea having her meal rather than rushing it and not savoring the flavor, a flavor sheâs missed for so long.
whilst eating, she listened in on the plans for the day. there was an easter egg hunting competition a couple of roads down and connor was looking forward to going. after that, it was a lovely evening at a jazz restaurant and when the sun had set, a boat ride in the bayou at night. three things that were going to occupy her day and she was looking forward to it.
every time she went home, it was like a moment of healing. being among her family members and catching up with the things she missed and providing the affection she kept to herself, it was all a healing experience. it was like being among nature, being where you feel safe.
before they could leave, though, hope decided she needed to do something to thank her mother for the day she had planned ahead for everyone. she was always a woman who gave to others and then never took anything back, never asked for anything back. truly humbled, truly kind. it was no wonder connor was the kind boy he was.
so in order to recompensate for the things had been given to her, provided to her by the mother she had, she decided that some flowers would suffice as a semblance of gratitude. she took her purse and was out the door in a few minutes, her converse tapping against the sidewalk.Â
immediately, she was greeted by the sun beaming down on her, and it was refreshing, to say the least, after having not felt it properly in a while. it was like a welcoming but ghostly embrace from an old friend.
there was a flower shop stationed not too far from where they had eaten yesterday, a five-minute walk from her house if she hurried. and she did, she didnât want to miss the easter egg hunt.Â
soon, she saw it, the flower shop named honeycomb. it was a family business that has been in the town for nearly fifty years, it was there even before her parents were born. and within, she saw a figure walking among the flowers. hope entered through the veranda and past the first few gardenias and poppies and towards this figure.
it was rare to see her in these instances, she would often be away at university and hardly came back to celebrate holidays that werenât christmas or thanksgiving. but it was good to see her, regardless.
many people thought hope and this girl were perhaps siblings as they shared similar appearances, but their personalities were almost total opposites. hope was cold, and she was warm. hope was sour, and she was sweet. it was in her name.
honey lee.
the girl was hopeâs age, if not a year younger. and she could easily be classified as a girl anyone dreams of having at your side, whether it be as a friend or as a lover. not only did she harness that docile aura that you can get lost in, but she also held the personality that made her remarkable. a personality hope sometimes envied, but honey was an advocate for self-love so that doesnât last very long.
hair curled and rich in brown, honey turned upon sensing the presence beside her and widened her bright, green eyes. â hope!â, she gasped and welcomed her into a tender hug, hope smiled and squeezed the girl gently in her arms. â oh my god, itâs so good to see you! i didnât know you were coming back. â
â yeah, well neither did i â, hope mumbled and pulled back for a moment but didnât part from the hug, it was too much of a good hug to part from. â you got a perm, iâm loving the hair. are you working today? â.
honey nodded softly, â but only for the morning. dadâs hoping to have a barbeque after the sunday service but we might not go. it all depends on how heâs feeling. god, you look so pretty. â hope grinned. â so, what are you looking for? â.
keeping an arm around the girlâs waist, hope hummed. â momâs been doing quite a lot for me lately. sheâs got the entire day planned and i wanted to get her some flowers as a form of gratitude â, she explained. â care to lend me some flower power? â.
â flower power? iâll give you some. â
honey was a magician when it came to flowers, knowledgable in almost every sense of the word and she knew how to bring a bouquet together to summon a message, whatever the message was, whether it was of gratitude or a love confession or an apology.
what she had wrapped for hope was a mixture of pink roses with sweat peas and the fragrance that erupted from it caused her nose to tickle slightly and her eyes to water but it was a beautiful mixture of colors nonetheless. it was hard to convince honey to be paid for the service, she often led the assumption that she had to do things for the sake of charity on special days.
but just today, hope wanted to be a normal customer. and one that pays. so whilst leaving the shop and saying goodbye to the girl, she shifted to shove the money into her pockets and bolted when she yelled and asked her to come back.
â hope! â.
â happy easter, honey! â.
the venue for the egg hunting game was not too far from her, though she had to hurry as to avoid being late, passing by hortenseâs house and grinning from ear to ear whilst racing through the market. it was held at an open field nearby the playground by connorâs school, he hadnât stopped talking about it the night before.Â
by the time she got there, some families were already present and hope struggled to spot her or any of the pirates until she saw dawn hopping on her feet eagerly, she seemed quite lively today like she had cracked out of her shell. and new orleans does that to a person, it served as a catalyst for breaking out of any bounds holding you back from having a good time.
â there she is â, she heard her motherâs gentle voice calling and then heard it gasp when the flowers came into view. â oh my god, who are you proposing to? â.
hope laughed and pretended to offer it to vivienne, who caught onto the act and put on an exaggerated gasp whilst preparing to accept it before hope swiveled towards her mother and placed the bouquet into her arms. â itâs for you. you helped plan this entire day out, itâs only nice that i offer something in return â, the girl exclaimed.
â oh, honey! â.
â she helped me pick it, actually. â
it was difficult to be complemented with the tender pet name when you knew someone whoâs legal name was just that. but she accepted the pleasant hug her mother gave her and looked about to see connor who was already taking part in the hunt. it was obvious he was being a little slow, and hope decided she could help him to pick up the pace.
there was an area for the parents with some beverages and snacks, but hope neglected it and chose to help her brother out. she picked her own basket and smiled fondly when connor spotted her, â i only managed to pick three. â
â three? well, iâll help you find some more. we can work as a team â, she proposed. and it was indeed enjoyable. it wasnât like hunting for convicted criminals who were wanted for bloody massacres and stealing millions but it was most definitely pleasant, distracting her from any thoughts that may have previously dared to bother her.
it was time to swift her mind into something domestic, she realized. it was good to focus on your work but it was even better to focus on the things that might matter slightly more, like your family.
there were eggs scattered all around and hope was able to search through bushes and look behind tables and under chairs and between tree branches in search of some, and gradually her basket began to grow heavier. she would put some eggs into connorâs basket so he wasnât completely hopeless but he was managing it quite well himself.
she recalled climbing up a tree trunk and latching her fingers onto a branch to get the small nest of colored eggs and then hearing giggles from below, only to realize that some cheeky little children had tried to run off with her basket but thank goodness, her dad came to the rescue, tempting them with a little game of tag that easily distracted them, and hope then recovered her basket.
it was a ten-minute hunt for chocolate eggs but it felt like something more special, something that would be imprinted in the back of her mind as a pleasant memory that isnât to be forgotten. especially after seeing connorâs face when she dumped the eggs into his basket, he gasped and just threw his arms around her waist.
his happiness was all that mattered to hope.
after ten minutes, a whistle was blown and the kids were told to stop chasing and to come to take a break. the eggs they got would be taken home and eaten, but many of the adults told them to share rather than hog all the chocolates for themselves.
connor hovered over with his basket on his lap, hope accompanied him not too far behind. â i donât think iâm going to be able to eat this all myself so you guys can have it as well! â, he said and held the basket over to his parents and then to the pirates.
enzo cooed, â this kidâs got some manners. i never shared when i was younger. â
â it explains a lot of things now â, dom uttered, chuckling at the small rude he heard in response.
but even if they huddled around and tried to open their chocolate eggs, hopeâs mother swept in quickly and told them to save it for later. because now it was time for lunch, and their table had already been reserved at another restaurant that was just as good as the one from yesterday.
of course, knowing her fatherâs tastes, it was a jazz bar. there wasnât anything like in the places sheâs visited outside of her hometown, not even some places in the colonies that basically carried entire chunks of culture to outer space. but perhaps that was the charm of it. sometimes things were just better off where they originated from.
on the walk there, hope had opened up some chocolate eggs, and offered it to the person walking not too far away from her, dom. he glanced at it and then took the piece, snapping it in half and savoring it. â how are you finding it here? â, she asked. having never had a proper conversation with dom, this was like a breath of fresh air. perhaps a fresh start. unless if he wasnât willing to let what happened to go.
â good. artistic and colorful, not what iâm used to but itâs better than the same old bottom end of the top bunk and enzo snoring the night away â, he replied, a hand tucked into his pocket. hope chuckled and shook her head gently. â you look happier, though. smiling more, talking more. i suppose being at home restores your energy. â
for a moment, it felt like he understood her. she paid him a small, meek smile and then nodded. â it gets lonely on the ship. having no one to talk to, no one to drink with or have dinner with. itâs quiet, sometimes too quiet. and i only realize that after i leave new orleans. itâs a hub of sound and people, i miss it a lot when i leave â, she said. â plus, my family is like . . . my safe haven. â
â i see â, dom uttered and grew quiet for a moment, but it wasnât awkward. often it feels better to talk to someone rather than allowing the same tense air to drift between you that just damages the chance of getting along. â hope, t-that guy from the restaurant yesterdaâ â.
â âmalakai. â
â is that his name? â.
â want to introduce yourself now? â.
it seemed to take dom a moment to realize that the said male was just across the street the moment they arrived at the restaurant. there was a small queue to be seated and hope realized she would be in plain view of the tan and gorgeous male. and for some reason, she didnât want to be.
because it took her a while yesterday to figure it out, that being with malakai whilst the pirates were around was exceptionally dangerous. he had a keen eye, he was one to question and expect answers, he wasnât passive like hiro who just let things be. he challenged and became suspicious, it was why he was in the communications branch.
and exposing the pirates to his dangerous pair of eyes could be . . . damaging. for hope and for the pirates, especially when he figures out that they most certainly didnât work for voyage.Â
he met eyes with the bounty hunter and beamed from across the street before taking off to meet her. her gaze went to dom who turned slightly to face the male, whilst also taking a small step to stand just barely in front of hope. she blinked and then saw malakai approach. â happy easter, hope! â, he cheered and looked towards dom. â and whoâs this? â.
â t-this is, uhâ â.
â a friend. nice to meet you. â
dom even went in for the assertive handshake, but hope never saw malakaiâs smile falter, he grinned and accepted it. â hi, friend. i suppose youâre both out to enjoy the celebration â, he said and hope nodded softly. â well, thatâs great, so am i. uh, hope, do you want to meet up later? â.
â w-wellâ â.
dom stepped in, â sheâs kinda busy the whole day, canât you drop in a text message or an email, to be more professional? â. she really felt like her jaw was on the floor, he was so cold! â i mean, youâre workmates, arenât you? youâd think that if itâs business talk, it should be classified and formal. â
malakaiâs expression froze slightly. but hope could almost see the gears in his mind struggling, grinding against each other. he wasnât accustomed to people like dom who so easily assert, well, dominance. this was the first time hope has witnessed it herself, and she was rather impressed.
perhaps he understood the danger as well, dom never missed a single detail. he seemed like the type to always be careful, always take precautions. thatâs why maybe heâs hesitant in diving into things head first like the mission with the puppeteer. hope looked over at quinn slightly and frowned.
â i suppose youâve made yourself some pretty formal friends, hope â, malakai uttered and the girl, once again, replied with a very meek smile. itâs what she often turns to when finding herself speechless in front of this particular boy. â but youâre right. i will send you an email instead. or, perhaps see you later tonight? â.
she saw dom was going to butt in almost immediately through the way his lips opened but she quickly pressed a hand to his arm and leaned towards malakai, â we can talk tomorrow. iâll still be here before we leave. we have an important task to complete. â
â oh. â
malakai, with his hands tucked behind his back, then took a step behind him. â well, i suppose i should get going, i donât want to get in the way of your evening. so . . . hope, friend . . . â. dom nodded coldly. â iâll see you soon. â
it was weird, seeing him walking away with an expression that wasnât a smile. she always saw him as an easy-going person, someone you could easily talk to but aspects of his persona often disturbed hope in ways that canât simply be explained. there was something that kept him from being totally trustworthy, and perhaps it was the fact that he was a colleague, someone who shouldnât know of her interactions with people sheâs supposed to be putting in jail.
looking at dom, his gaze never wavered from malakai until he was completely out of sight, she even shook him gently. â you can look away now â, she uttered.
â hope â, he started. â i know we got off on the wrong foot and that you may want to hear this from anyone else but me. but if this guy tries anything, tries to say or do something, donât be surprised. because somethingâs wrong with him. â he looked down at her. â keep your eye on him. â
â i-i will! â.
it was tense but the moment was gone just as quickly as it had started, and soon they were within the walls of the restaurant. safe, hope thought. at least there was a sense of privacy and safety now that she had sat into a large group.
now, the lunch lasted way longer than a normal meal. and it was mostly because of the dozen conversations going on around the table, with her dad striking a debate with vivienne on the morals that had been established on venus and hopeâs mother asking dawn what she likes to cook. on the side, quinn and dom seemed to be discussing the food and enzo and connor spoke about comic books.
they had all ordered butternut squash soup with some fresh bread and all shared some wine with connor having the occasional sips of apple juice. it took a while for hope to be involved in a conversation, she often listened in but never spoke to anyone until her dad started asking her about work.
â they sent you to get him alone?! â.
needless to say, he was on the verge of being furious when he found out about what happened with the puppeteer. he already knew the injury quinn had was caused by a mission but his face contorted with rage upon knowing it was caused because of the master of puppets.
hope smiled bitterly, swirling the white wine in her glass. â i transferred the mission to someone else, asking voyage to recommend going in large teams to avoid any accidents â, she uttered and her dad grunted, rolling his eyes. â but weâre okay, dad. quinnâs healing better after momâs food. â
â yeah, well, thatâs biancaâs magic. she heals with food. as her mother did and her motherâs mother. itâs tradition, itâs a magical tradition but itâs just foods cooked with a lot of love â, he exclaimed and smiled softly. â when i, uh, lost my arm . . . your mother never stopped a single day when it came to making meals. she thought that the reason i wasnât healing was because i wasnât letting my mind to be healed. â
hope pursed her lips, â is that true? â.
he seemed to struggle to find the right words for a moment, but his attempts werenât clouded behind the smooth keys of the piano from the stage. â i-i think i became convinced that my life wasnât going to be the same. but i forgot that people were going to be there for me regardless, to help me settle with a new rhythm â, her dad spoke and nodded. â but iâm better now, much better. better than before. â
hope smiled. he had the same problem as her. when he was working, he hardly ever came into contact and hardly visited his family and you could almost tell he was a different person when he returned during the holidays. but upon spending an evening with his family, he would mellow out.
the sourness turned to sweetness the moment he stepped him, and that was what hope experienced every single time she came home, it was what she was experiencing now. would she go back to the grump she was before after leaving? she didnât want to, she really didnât want to.
because looking at it now, she liked this version of herself a lot more. especially whilst looking at the pirates and seeing that they were happy, or at least in a better place where perhaps they were free to be themselves. a break from reality, from running away.
looking at them, hope found herself smiling. they were good people, she realized, people who made her life a little bit more bearable when she was on the ship. she knew how complicated she could be, but she found that she wanted to better herself for them. because even if she would be taking them home soon, she didnât want to be remembered as someone who could be easily forgotten due to the bad memories she brought them.
she just needed to let her mind heal, and maybe then she could improve on herself, and never have to worry about the pain of saying goodbye to them. but would it be hard? perhaps. yet it was only a matter of doing the right thing and hoping they would accept her.
they were their own little family and that feeling of familiarity and warmth was always among them and she wanted to be a part of it, but then . . . would she be intruding? this was their family, not hers. even if they made her happy and earned a spot in her life, would it ever be vice-versa? was hope everhart just a symbol of hatred and sourness in the lives of these people?
hope held her breath at the thought and immediately forced her gaze down. even if she did try to change herself now, it wouldnât change the things she said and did in the past and no apology would be able to suffice for the damage it did. so, perhaps this feeling she felt was only . . . one-sided.
an unrequited feeling of fondness towards a group of people who made her feel worthy of some sort of happiness. only to then realize they most likely didnât feel the same way towards her.
after lunch, it was quiet, mostly because the people were starting to withdraw at sunset, to watch the news or prepare for afternoon tea, or maybe even a soccer game that was on. but this group was walking towards the bayou.
hope found that she was quieter this time around, not particularly reaching out to anyone. she walked alongside connor who was happily eating away at the easter eggs, occasionally asking him questions about school and whether he was reading the books sheâd lent him.
the boat at the bayou had been rented just for them. it was a nice tour, and they made it just in time as the little critters of light came out from behind the trees, peeking shyly before commencing their flights.
â what are they? â.
â fireflies. â
upon climbing onto the boat, hope immediately sat down on the seat by the edge, wrapping her damp fingers against the cold railings and peeking over the edge. it was lovely, seeing some of the stars in the sky meeting their reflections on the water, and the fireflies dancing on the surface, illuminating all the lily pads and the lotus flowers in their path.Â
the engine of the boat roared to life and soon it was moving at a steady speed, not enough to be racing but not slow enough to be tedious. she took note of the radio playing some lighthearted nat king cole and immediately saw her mother and father meet halfway for a slow dance.
it was impossible not to watch. ever since she can remember, her parents have been passionately in love with one another and the flame has never once tempted to be burnt out. it burned and burned and only one glance at them could give away the years of mutual love and affection that they gave one another, from the way they held each other to the way they looked at each other.Â
hope smiled softly, tilting her head at the adoring scene and then looking out into the bayou, at the long hanging branches she could easily reach up to touch, at the bugs that circled around the fairy lights and the lamps scattered around the moving vehicle.Â
at moments like these, it seems like nature joins together in a state of harmony. one quick look at her parents and she saw they had finished dancing, and even received a little round of applause from the pirates, and from their two children.
hope felt a presence shift beside her and noticed it was enzo, who offered her a smile but didnât say much whilst looking out into the illuminated bayou. it was quiet for a tender moment until his voice rose, not loud enough to cut through the silence but audible enough for her to hear.
â you looked slightly sad at the end of the dinner â, he noted and she rolled her eyes before shaking her head. â and donât dismiss people when they think something is wrong, hope. iâm not saying this because iâm trying to be annoying. iâm doing it because i care. â
was he really scolding her? she couldnât help but chuckle and hold her hand to her forehead, before letting her gaze fall to her lap.
she didnât know where to start, â when . . . i was a kid, i didnât have many friends. people just didnât like me for who i was, and i was the exact same person i am now, my personality was intact by the age of nine or so. â she gestured slowly, not knowing where to continue. â a-and that left an imprint in my life that just told me i was unwanted. that i was better off alone and away from people, because even if i tried to show my real person, they wouldnât accept it. â
enzo didnât interrupt her once. â a-and i think part of the reason why i didnât allow myself to open up to you guys so easily was that i assumed you were going to be like every other person who entered my life that wasnât my family. that you were going to dislike me immediately and not get to know me . . . â, she hoped she wouldnât start crying.
â but now you guys are giving me a moment to show the real me, the real hope everhart who doesnât hate people as much as she makes herself to hate. and in the midst of this vulnerability, i realize where i went wrong and how i want to make it up to you and be a better person, even if weâre not friends and . . . i donât want to be remembered as the one who was angry and bitter all the time, the one who punched dominic and the one who exploded with rage at almost anything, i want to be remembered as who helped. or tried to help. â
â b-because, i donât care if youâre pirates. it stopped being a concern a long time ago after i realize that you were good people. good people i would never think of comparing myself to and the reason why youâre so good is that you bring out the best in each other. a-and you ended up bringing the best in me. â
hope felt her bottom lip quivering but she inhaled deeply and fought through it, â and yet i feel like a total outsider, maybe because i havenât known you for long but even though you treat me so well, i feel like iâm better off the person i was before because i canât join the family. i-i canât . . . quit voyage to become a pirate, i canât do that. s-so even if iâm taking you guys home, everything is telling to keep you around for a little longer. because even if itâs artificial, i can feel like i changed because i was a part of something. even if i wasnât. â
sniffling, she blinked and looked at enzo before smiling, once again, meekly. â so, to make a long story short, i suppose the reason iâm upset is that i know iâll never be a part of what you have. b-but i guess the lessons i learned from being around all of you might be what i belong to instead â, she explained briefly. â s-so, uh . . . t-thank you, for listening. iâm sorry. â she shook her head. â j-just in general, iâm sorry. â
everyone has a fear, and it ends up being spoken at some point. and the fear hope held to this day was the fear of being insignificant, being forgotten. she was used to being the one who left a bad imprint on people or leaving no semblance or memory at all, a ghostly figure passing through peopleâs lives who is easily over-looked.
and there hasnât been a moment in her life where she felt like she has been special to people outside of her family at all. it was like she didnât exist for other people, and perhaps it was because she was just a bad person in general. hope had convinced herself she was meaningless, and maybe it justified the creature of hatred and bitterness that she had become.
they had left a huge imprint on her life. but what did she leave? some insults and a smack on domâs face.
the boat ride was quiet, and when they returned to the docks, hope was the first to hop off. often when discounting her feelings, she feels like isolating herself for just a while to gather her thoughts. she played with her bracelet and once again, walked alongside connorâs wheelchair.
he wasnât talking, he seemed far too tired to do any of that. but he looked over and gave her a sugar-sweet smile, one which made her lean over and caress his hair gently.
when they got home, she entered her room and immediately changed after a quick shower. she didnât really want dinner, even though it was her fatherâs special barbeque. tonight might be the last night sheâs in new orleans for a while, but she wanted to isolate herself for just a moment. her mother came in briefly and left her a plate of hamburgers and a can of diet coke on her desk, but didnât call out for hope. she knew her daughter was upset, but she gave her space.
hope laid in that bed, her door wide open and windows were drawn up to hear the laughter and the shrieks of happiness from the roof, the story-telling from her father and the poetic singing of louis armstrong.
she looked to the side and spotted her fluffy friend looking back at her, harold the duckie. she reached out and grasped him into her bare arms and clung to him, similar to how connor did earlier that morning. â today was a busy day â, she told him. â we went easter egg hunting and had lunch and mama louisianaâs and then went on a boat ride . . . but i always felt like i was the sheep following blindly behind them. an outsider, yâknow? yeah, you know. youâve heard this all too many times. â
she paused and then turned to lay on her back, her gaze going towards the ceiling. and it was littered with glow in the dark star stickers, something she had put up many years ago and they remained there. â remember when i came crying to you one day after school? when it was my birthday and no one knew? when i told my teacher and she promised to sing happy birthday but she never did? and when she told everyone, they all just stared at me, asking why i didnât bring cupcakes? a-and there was another girl in there who had the same birthday as me and she got everything? â, she questioned, only gaining silence as a response.
â i felt like i was invisible back then, harold. a-and i still feel like that sometimes. â
silence.
â i-is this friendship thing just . . . n-not meant for me? â.
more silence.
â d-do i not deserve just a slight bit of it? a tiny bit of it? a-am i that much of a bad person? â.
silence.
hope chuckled bitterly, squeezing her eyes shut.
â you know, if i asked anyone else the same thing, they would be as quiet as you are . . . k-kind of just makes me want to . . . g-give up. â












