To My World and Back Again Chapter 3
A Life Unraveled
By Ghost
I knew the pain of being alone and being rejected from being so different, and I'm not just talking about my blue hair. I am not your common guy, and people are uneasy about that. Hey, I did not let it take me down. For every book I read, for every game I played, and for every Japanese Animation I watched, I gained a certain strength that I can't explain. So, when I saw poor Britt alone for the first time, I felt a kindred spirit, and I promised myself from that point that he wouldn't be alone. Of course, I intended to give him the same strength I gained.
From the collected journals of Patrick Simmons
May 6, 2006
10:12 A.M.
Patrick's Home
Patrick Simmons stood ready with katana in hand on the beach outside his home. He all ready ran his five miles, practiced his crossbow on targets behind him, all of which were bulls eyes, and practiced his martial arts. Surrounding him were four logs, each log approximately seventy-five centimeters long, six centimeters wide, and each for a different attack.
His mind powers gave him a new area of swordplay to work with. For instance, he had been working on four of Crono's moves: the Cyclone attack, Slash attack, Spin Cut attack, and the Confusion attack.
He focused on the log straight in front of him and held his katana in a fighting pose. Without a moment's hesitation, he made a leap to the log. He landed right in front of the log and held his katana out. He started to spin wildly in one place and then started to spin around the log, striking it lightly several times. He stopped spinning and looked at his work. The bark was slashed off in several places. Such was the power of the Cyclone.
He then faced the log to his right and held his sword in a fighting pose. He focused his mental power into his sword. When he felt it right, he struck his katana downward, and all the energy was released in the form of a white light. The energy went straight toward the log and, when contact was made, split the log in half.
He was now in a sweat, but he continued his training. He sheathed his katana, and readied himself. He focused on the third log. As he focused, he thought his power to his legs and jumped high, inhumanly high (at least for Earth's standards), into the air. Before he started his decent, he unsheathed his katana, and brought it down toward the log. His aim was off from center, but he still managed to bring his katana half way through the log. He was tiring.
He was ready for the final attack, the Confusion attack. He focused on the last log, although he was breathing hard. The use of the mind with physical attacks still took a lot out of him. He figured that was the use of magic points (MP) with non-magical attacks.
He repeated what he did before with the Spin Cut, but as he came down, he didn't strike down with his katana. He came down to the log and encircled it in midfall. As he encircled the log, he struck it four times consecutively. When he was done with the attack, he sat down in the sand, near exhaustion. After a moment's rest he tiredly stood on his feet and went inside his home to get a shower and get ready. He had a friend to visit.
11:01 AM
Oxnard Orphanage
Inside the brick walls of the Oxnard Orphanage on the second floor, a boy sat in front of a television playing an old classic on an aging Super Nintendo. Britt Evans continued to play his Chrono Trigger game with an intense focus. He was an eight-year-old child about four feet tall with brown eyes, blonde hair, a handsome face, and Caucasian decent. Now, he was in his Dragon Ball Z pajamas and hacking away at the Black Tyrano of the Tyrano Lair. He was so focused on the game he didn't hear a female voice call to him.
"Britt, can you come down here?" the voice called. There was only the battle music from the game for a moment until someone just about screamed his name, "BRITT!" This time the child heard it, and with a grumble, he turned the game off. Thank programmers for save points.
Britt ran his small hand through his unruly blonde hair and made sure to grab and pocket a small card off the floor before he exited the room. He went down a hall and then down some stairs to what would be considered a living room. In a blue recliner sat Miss Elandis Ellerbee, a forty-seven-year-old Caucasian woman. She had brown hair that went down to her shoulders, and peaceful green eyes. Her face still shown with beauty. She was wearing a red T-shirt with a happy face on the front, blue jeans, and white tennis shoes.
"What took you so long, Mr. Evans," she said shaking a finger, but she kept a smile on her face. She could never get mad at her children, a little distressed and agitated, but never angry. After twenty-three years of taking care of the orphans of the Oxnard Orphanage, "children" was the precise word for her to use, especially since she had none of her own.
"Well, Miss Ellerbee," Britt said, "I was trying to beat the Black Tyrano."
"Black Tyrano," she asked tilting her head. Britt nodded his head "Uh huh. I'm trying to beat Chrono Trigger, but first I have to make sure Azala is taken care of."
"Chrono Trigger," she laughed, "you're just like Patrick when he was your age. He was always reading this, playing that, and watching some sort of Japanese Animation. Of course, he's been leading you down that path, hasn't he?" Britt only blushed.
"Patrick Simmons." She breathed a sigh as the memories swept over her. Patrick had come to the orphanage in 1983, the same year she started to take care of the children. He was a lonely, blue-hair child and kept to himself most of the time.
Elandis had found the blue hair strange, but nevertheless she had taken it as a personal project to help him. To her surprise, he took to her immediately as a close friend. Of course, he still had not made friends of his own age. When he was five and enrolled in kindergarten, though it had been hard to get him in with the strange blue hair he had, but Elandis had convinced the school board that it was part of his religion, Patrick already showed his excellence in academics. He went from his A's, B's, and C's with ease to his reading, writing, and arithmetic.
The kids singled him out for this reason and the blue hair. Straight A Patrick, she heard kids say, the worlds smartest loner. He was a loner. He studied by himself, he read by himself, and he exercised by himself. Although he thought of her as his close friend, he was very independent. Some of that changed in one day.
Two children had watched him from the start. A boy several months older than Patrick and a girl about a year younger were orphans as well. Chris Baker and Michelle Miller were friends from the beginning. Both were put up for adoption a month before Patrick came to the orphanage, and they had been watching this strange child with a special curiosity that makes special friendships start.
One day in the fall of 1985 the two had approached Patrick while he was reading his second grade reading book. The two had the same book, but they wanted to talk with him. They had asked why he went so far ahead, but reading ahead wasn't too much for Patrick, and he had replied with a modest "why not." The two had continued to talk with Patrick, and after a day of talking and some playing was complete, the trio had become good friends and eventually a mini family.
Unfortunately, it did not last long. The next year Mitchell was adopted into a loving family of three, and then it was Chris the year after that to a lonely couple in need of a child. It did not affect Patrick so badly. He was used to being alone most of the time. "At least you could see them at school," Elandis had told him, and that was fine with him, but at the orphanage, Patrick became the loner once again.
He had been the loner for three years, and the sixth grade was coming to an end. To earn an allowance, Patrick had cut grass for those who lived around the orphanage. One day he had a job for someone a half mile away, a Mr. Michael Maddux, a half-Caucasian, half-Chinese man.
Elandis had arranged, for Patrick's benefit, that very job. Mr. Maddux, a thirty-two-year-old man, was skilled in the martial arts, and martial arts were something that held Patrick's interest. Rumors, though, had gone around that Mr. Maddux used mind powers, but that only seemed to spark Patrick's interest.
Patrick had gone to Mr. Maddux's class three days a week, and he seemed to be one of his best students. There was another good student as well. He was a black-haired kid around Patrick's age with an unusual bad attitude toward Patrick. John Cindel was an orphan like Patrick, but he had gone to a different orphanage. They seemed to be rivals from the beginning.
They had trained in the same class for five years, and in the summer of 1996 the two competed, strangely, against each other in the state wide karate championship. Patrick lost, totally overpowered, that time and seemed to let John bully him from then on.
He was the most interesting child I took care of, Elandis thought. He left the orphanage after high school and went on to college to major in computer programming. He worked for a minor computer company a while then went on to the Scientific Research of California. Time gates, what a silly idea.
She had thought Patrick had lost sight of reality for a while. He had probably played too many video games, and he did spend a lot of time alone. Fortunately, he met Mitchell again at SROC, and then he met Chris at a bar he had started going to.
He did all of this and still found time to visit the orphanage. He met Britt Evans one day, and the two bonded immediately. He never adopted Britt because he was always too busy. Patrick had visited on his days off, and he had brought books and games for Britt to play. Every orphan needed someone like Patrick. Just someone to spend time with.
Britt called her name and interrupted Elandis from her thoughts. "Are you alright," Britt asked. "Should I get you something?"
Miss Ellerbee straightened herself in her recliner, "No, I'm fine, Britt."
"Well you called me down and I was wondering what you needed."
"Oh yes," she said tapping her lower lip with her forefinger, "you better get ready because we're going to have company."
The child's eyes lit up with excitement, "You mean he's coming today!"
She laughed heartily, "Yes, he's coming. Now go get ready."
Without saying a word, Britt ran upstairs. When he got to the top, he pulled out the small card he had with him in his game room. It was his lucky card. On the back of the card was a regular red background with an encrested yellow star within a circle symbol. On the front of the card was a thin red border outside a picture. Within the picture box was a black and white picture of a mermaid, and below the picture in a rectangular box was the word "MERMAID".
The card itself seemed insignificant, but for a moment, Britt seemed to have a thin, light blue aurora around his body. Britt shook his head and pocketed the card once again and went into the bathroom to shower.
Miss Ellerbee, in the living room, sat looking at the ceiling. The recently recalled memories running in her head. Yes. Every orphan needs a Patrick Simmons.