Into the Light

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

   The teams explored the school, checking classrooms and hallways, all on edge wondering when the school would shift and creatures from another world would come for them. Shivers ran down Kota’s back as he and Nathan called out for Dr. Sean Green.

   Part of Kota wondered if they’d ever see Sean again. There had been so many disappearances, and each of the missing persons had vanished without a trace. There were no suspects. No leads. Nothing.

   Nathan felt similarly as they peered into a dusty classroom that had gone unused for several months. A forgotten textbook lay upon the front desk, open to a lesson regarding basic algebra. Nathan hoped Sean was okay. He remembered the first time he had met Sean.

   Nathan had received a large head injury from his father and had run out into the woods behind his house to get away. He collapsed out there, and when he woke, he was in Kota’s living room. Kota had been a stranger at the time, but Nathan had seen him a few times outside raking leaves and tending to the yard with the changing of the seasons. Sean hovered over Nathan, stitching up the wound.

   ‘You’re a tough guy, able to take a hit like that,’ he’d told Nathan. Sean had a way of making people feel safe around him. Safe and unashamed. Sean had been the one to suggest to Owen that Nathan be considered as Academy material. Sean had been the one who told Nathan to go out for sports, and helped him discover his passion for swimming. He was the one who paid to have a pool installed at Nathan’s father’s home. His sanctuary.

   Nathan would search every classroom, hall, and crevasse until Sean was found.

   In the east building, Owen called out for Sean, his oldest friend. What if he’s dead? What if he’s hurt, bleeding out somewhere and I can’t find him in time? No. Owen centered himself. He would not marginalize himself with fear. Owen searched far down the hallways while North shuffled through classrooms, naming each one ‘clear’ as he finished searching. He placed a post-it note on each door as he finished.

   Owen found himself staring down a hallway unmoving, thinking of Sean. Extrovert, over-the-top, out-there Sean who came up to Owen with a slap on the back asking why he never smiled.

   ‘What?’

   ‘Why don't you smile?' Sean beamed. 'Are you unhappy?’

   ‘No, I—”

   ‘I think we should be friends, you and me. We’re about the same age. You’re serious and brooding. I’m fun. I can teach you how to smile. You can teach me how to…make that respectable, stern face that seems to be your version of resting bitch face… God, I need a face like that.’

   Owen smiled at the memory. More than a millimeter smile. A tear almost ran down his stony face, but he held back. Sean was always smiling. Smiling even when it was not the right time to smile. Smiling when he gave patients bad news. Cancer. Dementia. And there was Sean's smile. An uncomfortable, unwavering smile.

    Sean didn't lack empathy. In fact, he had more empathy in a single finger than most people had in their whole bodies. He was kind. Smart. He fought for his patient's. Saved lives. And when he couldn't, he smiled. Later locking himself in the supply closet to cry.

    Sean told Owen once it was like playing solitaire. Sometimes you could do everything right and still lose. It wasn't anyone's fault. The cards were stacked against you.