Tale Zero: Screaming Scorpion (15)

“Oliv-“

“No, don’t. We don’t have time for that, and besides, you can probably guess the answer to all your questions yourself.”

“…”

I knew.

I knew, and I could do nothing.

Simultaneously not wanting to think about it but being incapable of avoiding it.

But if he didn’t want me to get my nose where it didn’t belong, that’s what I had to do. As much as I was indebted to him, as much as he had just saved me from myself—there was nothing I could really do to help.

Don't involve yourself where you don't belong.

All you'll manage is to cause trouble.

…

I really do wish I could help more.

But all I could do was look, and even that was overstepping my boundaries.

“… Hey, Oliver.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna play some volleyball?”

“Just us two? Well, I don't mind, but I doubt you're in any shape to last more than three seconds and a quarter.”

“Well it's true that I haven't exercised in a while, but you don't seem to be in a much better shape than me, so I'd say it's an even match.”

“Tch… I guess this is what I get in exchange. Well, I can't say it doesn't sound fun, last time we played we were probably still in middle school.”

“Yeah, it's been a while. I'll go pick up a ball and we can play in the park.”

And still you find no solution. You aren't even trying.

…

Even though I hadn't used it in years, I remember exactly where the ball was. It was a beach volleyball I had owned since I was in early elementary, but it had amazingly survived through a decade of abuse and continued to be perfectly usable, save for a noticeable layer of dust and the fact it had emptied a fair bit since the last time I took it out of the bottom of that drawer.

Nothing three minutes of cleaning and refilling wouldn't solve.

“I honestly can't believe you're still keeping that old ball around. It's a miracle it's in one piece after so long.”

“And what's the problem then? It's proven to be perfectly reliable for so long, I have no reason to stop using it, or to buy another one at all.”

“So your only available resource is a very old one, one that could fail at any moment and for which you have zero backup.”

“Oliver, we’re talking about a volleyball here. It’s not a life or death situation.”

“What’s your computer, James?”

“A Core2 Duo.”

“That’s also about ten years old by now, you know. What if your hard drive just dies one day? What if Windows Vista decides it’s not going to work anymore? And what if you absolutely need to finish a project on your PC right then?”

“… What’s this conversation topic even about, dude?”

“Honestly? I’m not really sure myself. I guess I’m just trying to say that sticking to your trusty old ways without a backup of any kind may not be the best of ideas.”

“…”

“Just ignore my ramblings, I guess. Let’s just play some ball.”

And so we did.

Playing with Oliver proved to be quite a different experience than playing in PE class or with Nick. He was a lot slower than the latter, though still faster than me, but was very skilled at hiding his body language. Guessing where he was about to aim for with his next shot was a herculean task.

My overall lack of fitness wasn’t exactly helping, but he proved to somehow not be too much better than me after we started to get tired.

And a tiring exercise it sure proved to be.

We jumped around, we hit the ball with what I could generously describe as the strength of a late elementary school kid, we got hit by the ball on multiple occasions—and not always because of the opponent’s shot. But most importantly, we laughed.

We laughed with each other. At each other. Almost as if I wasn’t still in the process of realizing just how at risk my sanity had really been. Almost as if Oliver’s cuts and wounds had disappeared. Almost as if… we were just normal people, living normal lives, doing normal things the normal way.

Of course, it was also perfectly normal that after we’d played for hours with no end in sight, Oliver’s parents would come look for him.

Even their exasperated expressions were normal.

The stern look in their eyes was normal.

The face Oliver made when he saw them… was…

“H-hello, it’s been a long time! I’m sorry to have kept Oliver for this long, it’s my fault that I let the time slip and—”

“Hello, James, I’m glad to see you again after so long. Please don’t worry about it, we understand you must’ve both been happy after getting to have some fun after so long. Oliver’s at fault too for not paying close enough attention to his brand-new wristwatch. We bought him one just last week so he couldn’t use that as an excuse to be too late.”

Kind words spoken in a serene tone, from the mouth of a man whose amicable expression couldn’t feel more forced.

“…”

Can’t move.

Can’t talk.

Don’t know what to say.

This is dangerous, I can feel Oliver’s fear, even through his almost inexistent body language I can still easily feel it—

“Sorry, James, we’ll have to continue playing some other time… It’s true that I should have already been home a while ago. I have chores left to do.”

He seemed sincere. Clearly, he was doing his best to hide the shaking in his hands and the fear in his eyes, but even so—he wasn’t lying to me.

He really just… needed to do some chores back home. And he should have had them done already.

That’s all there was to it.

…

I could only watch in impotence as his parents took him back home. We’ll talk again soon, he promised, though the tone of his voice told me I’d be lucky to even see him again until a few weeks from now.

What could I even do in a situation like this?

Should I call social services? No, Oliver would refuse to admit anything. The police? It’d probably cause him to suffer even more if they somehow come out unscathed.

This wasn’t my place to meddle. I should stick my nose into my own business, trying to help others only ever ends up causing them more harm. More than they would’ve had to suffer otherwise, more than they deserve.

And yet…

Something inside me still screamed.

DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE HIM TO DIE, YOU IDIOT! He’s your friend, isn’t he?! Then PROVE IT! This is your last chance to make a difference, to redeem yourself!

A formless voice, one rooted deep within my own consciousness.

One I didn’t want to ignore any longer.

I ran home to see if I could find something, anything online that would help me. As small or insignificant as it looked, there had to be SOMETHING—

But the moment I got there, I found out—my PC was broken.

TALE ZERO: SCREAMING SCOPRION – END

JAMES: Perpetrator.

CLAUDIA: Victim, Lover.

EMMA: Victim, Supporter.

OLIVER: Victim, Friend.

JAMES: Victim.