The Adventures of Soap Boy

Part 6: Healing

"It's okay to feel bad. It's okay to be hurt. I know it's taken a lot of strength to get this far, so you should be proud." As he spoke, it got a little easier to keep my emotions in check, so I kept listening.

"How about this? You just stick around here, and I'll try and find your parents for you."

Oh no.

He didn't know. I was going to have to break the news. If my emotions had jumped to a six before, they were now at a nine. I tried to regain my composure, but to do that, I first had to stop him from talking. I started shaking my head, not trusting myself to speak. But that only caused him to become confused.

"Do you not want that?" He asked, not realizing that he was making everything worse. I had to say something to stop him, or the flood gates would open, and I'd be unable to close them back. I had to trust myself to say something.

"The bombs." I said, my voice cracking and wavering in the process.

It was only then that I realized. That was the first time I'd acknowledged their death out loud. I'd thought about it. I'd accepted it as reality, but something felt different when saying it, and that was bad. That nine had just become a ten. It was taking all of my willpower to hold back what felt like an immense pressure building inside my mind. The balloon was already full. Any more, and it would pop for sure. I didn't dare look at the doctor's face, lest it be what pushed me over the edge. I knew that he was a friend of my parents. He'd come over for dinner sometimes, so they must have been close. A brief moment of silence passed between us. During that time, I tried to reign in my feelings, but made no progress. He then broke the silence.

"I'm so sorry."

There it was. He'd said the worst thing he possibly could have. I wanted to hate him. To make him an enemy so I could win this battle and keep my promise. But he wasn't an enemy. On the contrary. He was the only friend I had left in the world. This also wasn't a battle against him. I was fighting myself. He spoke again.

"You know... There's no shame in crying."

As he said those words, I heard his voice waver. I dared to open my eyes, and through the blur of my welling tears, I saw his expression. He was starting to cry too.

I broke.

Contrary to what he'd said, I felt nothing but shame.

"But I promised them!" I cried out between sobs. He leaned over and hugged me. As he did he spoke again.

"It's okay. They would understand." He consoled.

I knew that, but it didn't help. I had broken the very last promise I ever made to my parents. Breaking that promise felt like betraying them. Like I was letting go of the last piece of them. Letting them die.

"I'm sorry!" I wailed out, at the top of my lungs. They were the only words that would come out. Dr Vasquez hugged me tighter as I repeated my apology over and over again.

It took a long time, but I managed to calm down a little. Dr Vasquez released me, and he left the bed to return to his chair. I could tell that he was hit just as hard by the news as I was. After about ten minutes of silence broken only by the sounds of sniffling and tissue paper, he finally broke the silence.

"You know..." He started, as he pulled up his sleeve revealing a massive burn scar on his forearm. "I got this scar because of Pedro. It was back when we were a few years older than you are."

That got my attention. I knew dad had a scar like that, but never thought Dr Vasques would have one to match.

"Yeah. There was this time when we were young that a terrible house fire started a little ways away from where we lived. We were on our way home from a movie when we saw it. The firemen hadn't arrived yet, and there were people stuck on the second floor."