The Man In The Midnight Blue Suit

Chapter Twenty-Four

After two days of challenges, we were given a day to rest – or at least, a day without competition. Having been up the night before, I woke late. In the day more sense had entered my mind, and I had gone to Tobias's apartment with every intention of telling him that practising my skill on him was a bad idea. Too risky, too dangerous. But Tobias wasn't to be deterred. He stood by his notion that this was our chance. And although I was reluctant, I couldn't deny that he was right. After all, I had spent all that time wishing for a way out. Now, I at least have something I can try.

When I first entered Tobias's mind, it was without resistance. We had agreed that unless it was too overpowering, he would let me in, freely. What I hadn't thought about preparing myself for was what I would see.

Like when I entered Jonathan's mind, Tobias's memories sped past me in a blur. His childhood, living in an apartment in a huge city with his mother. She had dark hair like his, and a huge smile – at least in his earliest memories. Being carted off to her work as a cleaner until he was old enough to know how to keep the door closed when he was left on his own. His memories always had a serious undertone, a shadow of sadness – the knowledge of worse times to come. He learned to grow up fast as a kid. He got himself ready for school when his mother was at work, used the spare key to unlock the door when he got home. The earliest memory I see with clarity is a scene of a small boy, maybe 8 or 9, being beaten up by ones only slightly older, behind the school. Young Tobias runs away, scared they would come after him too.

Despite hardships of his earlier life, there was happiness: when he'd be with his mother, eating noodles and watching TV. Or helping her cook, or reading books. They swim by in a haze, combining into one. There was a sense of other family, in a different place to them, but they were strangers, names he only knew vaguely. It was always just his mother and him, in the memories that fly by.

And then his teenage years. Insignificant encounters of awkwardness and embarrassment, friends that fly in and out. Some that stick around. Teachers saying he has potential. A talent with words. A vibrant imagination. He gets older, gets into the world of parties and fun. There are girls, but they pass by like a minute in thousands. There are still late nights spent studying – things he doesn't tell his friends.

His world comes to a halt when his mother gets sick. Everything seemed to slow down. A new perspective is thrown over his carefree teenage world as if he now knows something about life that he didn't know before. People drift away. A few stay, floating in and out. His mother, lying on the couch. Blood coughed into a tissue. Listening to doctors about medicine they couldn't afford. Food becoming scarce. School becoming less and less important. And then the friend, someone he's known nearly his entire life. The job. An alleyway that smells of rot and trash. Brick walls, seeming to block him in. An urge to drop the package, run away. He pulls through and makes the delivery, to a guy in a long black leather coat with greasy hair. Then there's medicine. Tobias makes sure his mum takes it. More of the friend. More jobs, more deliveries. But the medicine wasn't doing everything he hoped it would.

Then there's a late night, with the sounds of the city insignificant in the background. Sitting with his mother, watching the city's neon lights leak through the window and rest on her pale face. Watching her sweat and shake, watching her fever rise. Hearing her beg him to let it happen. She didn't want to go back there, to the doctors and the halls that smelled of antiseptic. She'd had enough. She kept saying sorry, but right then he didn't understand what for. Yet there's the feeling underneath it, knowing it was because she was leaving him. Early in the morning, her shaking stopped and her body went cold. Tears dripped onto her skin. He doesn't remember calling anyone or moving from her side. But people did come, with a truck and things to sign. Next was the black-clothed funeral, only a few in attendance. A grave in the hillside, just out of the city. A feeling of sadness and regret. A few times, it's anger. But the rage is gone almost as soon as it arrived.