Chapter Eleven

Over the next few days, Travis and Giovanni went back and forth on edits for their paper. Travis wanted to stick to the themes of alienation and societal norms, while Giovanni wanted to go with the theme of identity and how that related to marginalized groups. They compromised and combined their themes for a paper on how the monster represented the other, while the townspeople represented society and the systems of institutional racism and other forms of discrimination inherent within it.

Working with Giovanni proved migraine-inducing, though, as he was prone to flights of fancy, and Travis had to rein him in when he got off course. It wasn't all bad, though. Away from school, Giovanni was kind of funny. Almost nice, even.

"So, when ya coming back to skool?" he messaged Travis one night.

Honestly, he didn't see the point since there were only three weeks left of the term, and there was the little matter of his death. However, after two weeks cooped up at home, his parents said it was time to go back.

***

He was getting his books out of his locker when he heard Giovanni call his name.

"Hey," he said, looking around.

Frowning, Travis gave an anemic, "Hi." 

Giovanni tugged at his right ear, his face going red. "BTW, nice shades."

"Thanks. Later."

"Wait." 

   Turning, Travis gritted his teeth, annoyed beyond belief. "What?"

Giovanni fumbled his words before saying, "Wanna hang this summer?"

Travis shook his head. "What makes you think I'd want to do that?"

Shoulders slumped, Giovanni's face fell. "From our conversations, I thought--"

"Let's keep it one hundo. You've been looking around this whole time; why would I want to socialize with someone who's embarrassed to be seen with me?" Travis slammed his locker shut and walked away, ignoring Giovanni's pleas to let him explain. He avoided Giovanni the rest of the day and ignored his messages on Google Hangout, all of which were variations of: "I'm sorry, let's talk."

The week passed without incident, save his waking up tired with scars he didn't remember having. He attributed both to his genetic disorder and shrugged it off.

 On Wednesday, he got a call from the 50th District Court stating his bench trial would begin next Monday. For the rest of the week, Travis's mind came up with a million apocalyptic scenarios. He tried blocking them out, first by focusing on his schoolwork, then by working on Cha, but that didn't take the edge off his anxiety. So, he tried meditating. 

***

Closing his eyes and taking three deep breaths, he centered and found himself back on the plateau . . . only he wasn't alone. Oblivion was there in the guise of Travis.

"What do you want?"

"To talk. Do you know what evil is?"

Travis shrugged. "The opposite of good?"

"Yes and No. Good and evil are like day and night; one can't exist without the other."

Travis furrowed his brow, thinking hard. "Then you're saying they're like yin and yang, two parts of a perfect whole?"

Nodding, Oblivion continued, "Have you ever stopped to wonder why it's good to be good and bad to be bad?"

"Because it just is."

"But what if I were to tell you everything you've been told your whole life is wrong--no, not just wrong but a lie?"

"First, I'd wonder what you were on. Second, I'd tell ya to cut back on it. Third, I'd ask how you knew such a thing."

Oblivion chuckled. "I see you're still clinging to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. To answer your last question: I've been watching you since the moment you were born."

"Again with the creepiness. You going somewhere with this or what?"

"My point, if you'll let me make it, is that you are an extraordinary boy."

"Yeah, no. I don't wanna be evil's chosen one or whatever that prophecy of yours says I am."

"My boy, some are born great, some achieve greatness, some have greatness thrust upon them. You are all three, and I can help you become stronger."

 Scrunching up his face in thought, Travis said, "And what do you get out of the deal?"

"The chance to see you live up to your full potential and fulfill your destiny."

"Uh-huh. And how do I know I can trust you?"

"I've been upfront with you from the start, haven't I?"

Travis nodded.

"Here's a tip. Check out the animated series Avatar: The Last Airbender. I think you'll find it most helpful. Farewell, Travis."

"Wait, what are you exactly?"

"That's a conversation for another time," he said and disappeared.

Prometheus appeared before Travis, pale and sweaty. "Kid, don't listen to him."

"And I should listen to you? Last I checked, he hasn't been lying to me about having powers before and Project Hellfire."

Prometheus wiped his nose and sniffed. "A'ight, so maybe I haven't been telling you the gospel truth. But I got my reasons."

"Screw your reasons!" Travis shoved Prometheus, knocking him flat on his butt. He stood, and they tussled, the rage inside Travis building until it exploded out of him in a tornado of white flames. Prometheus raised his arms, and an earthen shield surrounded him.

"Was that called for? Calm your dingy self down before I put my foot all the way up yo' ass."

"Bring it, chump."

They squared off, but before they could fight, Travis's mother shook him, bringing him back to the real world. "Dear, I've been calling you for the last five minutes. Dinner's ready. I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans."

He rubbed his eyes and went to wash up.

"This ain't over," Prometheus said from the reflection in the mirror. Travis flipped him off and left.

Perhaps I should see a therapist or something? Naw, I'm fine. Like they say, if you think you're crazy, you're not. 

He dried his hands and forgot all about Prometheus and Oblivion.

Looking back, Travis marked this as the point a small part of him became seduced by Oblivion. 

***

Any time Travis wasn't at school, he was preparing for his bench trial with his lawyer. Abigail Kurtzman was fresh out of law school, barely twenty-seven, but she'd come on good recommendation from Gram's lawyer.

"When the judge asks you a question, what do you do?" she asked, sipping her iced coffee.

"I answer their question. But don't give more information than I must."

"Good. And what happens if you're asked a question you don't know how to answer?"

He straightened his collar, adjusting his tie. "I ask them to either rephrase the question or ask for clarification."

She nodded, twirling her curly blonde hair. "And what's the number one rule?"

"Don't let them fluster me."

"Right-o, kiddo. I think you're ready. We have a good shot at beating the charges since this is your first offense, and you didn't start it, though Judge Williamson has a reputation for being hard on minorities. If convicted, you're looking at a maximum of one year in juvie and a fine of $4,000. I'll argue you were acting in self-defense but got caught up in the moment. Anything you want to ask me?"

"No," he said, his stomach gurgling as fear and nervousness threatened to make him lose his lunch. His trial was in three days, and though a year wasn't much time, given his condition, it might as well have been a life sentence. 

At that thought, it started raining again. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He called a taxi, and as he waited for it to arrive, his thoughts turned to his birthday. Will I make it till then?   

On the ride home, he promised to take full advantage of what time he had left, however long that was.

 

 Author's Note: Looks like dark times for Travis are on the horizon. Next time, Pro takes Travis's body for a spin while he's sleeping and gets up to some shenanigans.

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