Unfortunately, Tristan found himself unable to resist the urge. With a mischievous smile, he leaned in close to Caleb and whispered, 'I'm a criminal.'
Caleb's astonishment was visible as he grappled with how to react to Tristan's confession. The weight of the revelation left him speechless, unsure of how to respond.
"I'm truly sorry, Caleb," Tristan began, his voice tinged with remorse. "But please understand that I never intend to harm others. I resort to this life merely to make ends meet." With those words, Tristan bid Caleb farewell, setting off to pursue his career as a professional thief.
"Caleb, are you alright?" Mr. Watson asked, concerned for Caleb's well-being. "You must understand that Tristan, despite his actions, is fundamentally a good person. He recognizes the wrongfulness of his deeds, but his intentions are pure. It may take some time for this to sink in, but he genuinely places his trust in you. I hope you can find it in your heart to trust him as well."
Throughout the day Caleb contemplated what Mr. Watson said to him. "Maybe it's me, Tristan's ambition is pure and only for the best… I guess maybe it's time to accept that things have changed…"
As the day drew to a close, Tristan made his arrival. The setting sun painted the sky with vibrant hues, casting a warm glow over the scene. Caleb, anticipating his brother's return, prepared a comforting cup of hot chocolate before approaching him with a heartfelt request. "Tristan, I apologize for my earlier silence, but I've come to accept our circumstances. Can I join you in your unconventional path?" Caleb's voice brimmed with enthusiasm, eager to explore this new chapter alongside his brother.
Tristan's expression softened, etched with concern. "I don't want you to end up like me," he replied, his voice laced with worry. "I want you to lead a better life in the emerging world of the Industrial Revolution."
However, Caleb was determined, his face marked by tears. "I may not have a clear purpose, but I'll always be by your side through thick and thin," he sobbed. "You've said it yourself, we share a bond as family. Whether you like it or not, I will stand with you. So, what do you say, Brother?" Tristan recognized Caleb's vulnerability, yet he still grappled with doubt over the decision he was about to make. After a brief contemplation, Tristan finally relented. "You know you have a special place in my heart. Very well, you can accompany me," he conceded. Caleb's joy radiated through him, eagerly embracing the idea of embarking on a journey alongside his brother.
The following morning, both Tristan and Caleb woke up early, ready to embark on their chosen path. Tristan had thoughtfully prepared breakfast for the two of them.
Meanwhile, Mr. Watson, their father, returned home from his own day's work. One last time, Tristan hesitated, giving Caleb the opportunity to reconsider his decision to enter a life of crime. However, Caleb remained resolute, gazing at Tristan and offering him a comforting smile. "Let's go" Tristan finally conceded, realizing that nothing would sway his brother's determination. And so, with hearts brimming with anticipation, Tristan and Caleb set off together into the village, ready to face the challenges that awaited them.
The duo arrived at the vibrant Village market, filled to the brim with a kaleidoscope of vendors, merchants, and traders hailing from all corners of English Isles. Tristan leaned in, his voice barely a whisper, as he instructed Caleb, "Observe closely..." With a swift motion, Tristan swiftly concealed a loaf of bread beneath his shirt, silently evading the notice of the unsuspecting vendor. His cunning maneuver proved successful, leaving no trace of his mischievous act. "Think you can handle that?" Tristan inquired, a challenge accompanied in his words.
Encouraged by Tristan's mentorship, Caleb soon ventured forth to test his own skills at a nearby vegetable stand. Though nervous, he found solace in Tristan's reassuring gaze. Stepping forward with cautious deliberation, Caleb deftly pickpocketed unsuspecting patrons, his heart racing with the thrill of the illicit act. In his mind, he believed he had gotten away unscathed. However, fate had other plans as someone caught sight of his nimble fingers, their voice erupting into a resounding accusation of "Thief!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Tristan seized Caleb's hand, and the two bolted towards the safety of the surrounding hills. Together, they raced onward, their feet carrying them for what felt like an eternity. Exhausted, they sought refuge beneath the shelter of an ancient apple tree, where laughter spilled from their lips. Caleb, still breathless with amusement, exclaimed, "Did you see the look on that woman's face? Hahaha!" Tristan joined in the laughter, his voice resonating with shared joy. "I can't believe we got away with it," he chimed in, playfully mimicking the incredulous expression of their would-be captors.
Amidst their laughter, Caleb's gaze fell upon the peculiar scars adorning Tristan's hands. These marks, a tapestry of burns and cuts, bore an unusual hue—a mysterious shade of red with cryptic inscriptions. Intrigued, Caleb couldn't help but inquire about their origin. "Hey, Tristan, what are those marks on your hand?" he queried. Tristan's smile wavered, his attempt to dismiss the question apparent. "Oh, it's nothing, just a scar," he replied, his nonchalance faltering ever so slightly.
Unyielding in his curiosity, Caleb persisted, engaging in a gentle back-and-forth of inquiry and denial. Sensing Tristan's unease, he sought a way to make him more at ease. Drawing closer, Caleb closed the distance between them, their lips almost touching. Caught off guard by this unexpected act, Tristan instinctively pulled away, seeking refuge from the discomfort.
Undeterred, Caleb adopted an alluring tone, his voice laced with a seductive charm. "It's alright to keep secrets, but how can I truly understand you if I don't know your complete story?" he murmured. Tristan remained silent, his cheeks tinted with a delicate flush. Feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, he gently pushed Caleb away, plunging the scene into an awkward silence.
However, Caleb quickly dissolved the tension, erupting into laughter. "Did I startle you? Hahaha... Your expression was priceless," he teased, attempting to alleviate the discomfort that momentarily enveloped them.
Tristan found himself at a loss for words, so he joined Caleb in laughter, embracing the lightheartedness of the moment. "You're absolutely crazy! For a moment, I thought you were going to kiss me," he chuckled.
Caleb playfully responded, "Do you want me to? Nah, just kidding!"
Tristan, not fully appreciating Caleb's playful banter with his own emotions, decided to retaliate in a gag by throwing a snowball at Caleb's head, resulting in a burst of laughter from both of them.
Under the shelter of the apple tree, the two indulged in carefree moments, relishing in the simple joys of being young and carefree.
Regrettably, gray clouds began to dominate the sky, hinting at an impending rainstorm. Caleb and Tristan reluctantly made their way back to their humble abode.
"It seems like it's about to rain," Tristan remarked to Caleb.
With a mischievous grin, Caleb replied, "Looks like it is! Race you to the house!"
Tristan watched Caleb with a mixture of pride and gratitude, witnessing how effortlessly his brother had adapted to their new life. It was exactly what Tristan had hoped for, prayed for—an existence where Caleb could find joy and belonging.
As they arrived home, Tristan's fatigue overwhelmed him, prompting him to fall to bed immediately. He sank into a deep slumber, completely spent. Caleb, demonstrating his thoughtfulness, gently tucked Tristan in, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you for being not just a good friend but also a wonderful brother. May this bond last forever," he murmured softly.
Before Caleb could finish his sentence, Mr. Watson approached him, his expression carrying a hint of wisdom. "Caleb, you have an incredible connection with Tristan. You would be a great partner for him—a guiding force to keep him on the right path. You have the power to help him overcome his past."
Curiosity piqued, Caleb listened intently as Mr. Watson began to share Tristan's troubled history.
"Tristan was once a child, much like you. Although he enjoyed certain privileges, he was far from perfect. Tristan could obtain anything he desired, even if it meant pushing his mother beyond her means. There were times when he would hurl hurtful words at her, even resorting to physical violence. He believed she was an inadequate mother, incapable of caring for her own son."
His voice laden with heaviness, Mr. Watson continued, "His mother dared not utter a word in response to his cruelty... Until one fateful day when Tristan was forced to confront the weight of his actions. His mother returned home late, bearing scars and bruises that went far beyond the ordinary. The wounds bled, displaying a kaleidoscope of colors. She coughed up blood and collapsed to the floor."
Tristan, though initially apathetic, began to tremble, his face contorted with emotion. "Clean yourself up! You look so filthy. And make me a meal," he had callously demanded.
—-------------------------
"Hey... Mom? Stop this game... Get up! Get up, Mom! You're making a mess on the floor, Mom!" Tears streamed down my face as the realization dawned that my mother would never rise again. I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions. Was it anger? Was it rage? Was it worry? No... It was a profound sadness, an indescribable anguish.
"Mom, get up! I'm not joking anymore!"
In that moment, I felt like a monster, like a devil condemned to rot in hell. I fled from the house, my tears flowing uncontrollably. I ran and ran until my energy was depleted, collapsing without any sense of direction.
I found myself on the side of the road, lying there for what felt like hours. It was the end... Why had I only just realized it now? All I wanted was to die... I stared at the road, fixating on the approaching headlights of a massive truck. It seemed like the perfect moment... The end was within reach...
But fate had a different plan. The truck didn't collide with me; instead, it came to a screeching halt right in front of me.
"Why? I was prepared to die right then and there, and you still won't let me! Why?!" I shouted, my voice filled with desperation.
The truck driver stepped out, approaching me with calm determination. "Tristan, let's go home," he said gently, extending a hand of compassion.
—-------------------------
I took Tristan back to our house and revealed the truth to him.
His mother was not actually his biological mother.
I discovered that the woman he thought was his mother was, in fact, his nanny, and his real mother's identity remained a mystery. Learning this truth had a profound impact on Tristan. He underwent a transformation, vowing to emulate the love and unconditional acceptance he had received from his "mother." He was determined to extend that same love to others, regardless of their flaws or unkindness, just as his mother had done for him.
At the funeral, Tristan's grief overwhelmed him. Criticism and judgment rained upon him, accusing him of being a terrible son and blaming him for his own mother's demise.
Moving forward was a struggle for Tristan. He visited his mother's grave every day, pouring out his apologies and expressing his remorse. "I'm sorry... Why did you keep it a secret from me? Why did you lie? I have been such an unworthy son..."
Since that fateful day, Tristan came to live with me. He treated me as his true father, and I must say he did a remarkable job. I never felt alone in his presence. It is important to note that all of this occurred when he was just nine years old.
Caleb glanced at his brother and a wave of sympathy washed over him. "He has endured so much, and I wish I could truly understand the depths of his pain. But unfortunately, I, too, bear my own burdens. We both long for the same thing—to find our place in this vast world," Caleb said, his voice heavy with empathy.
Curiosity still nagged at Caleb, prompting him to inquire about the scars and burns on Tristan's hands. "Mr. Watson, what are those scars on Tristan's hands? Did he harm himself?"
Mr. Watson responded calmly, "There is nothing on Tristan's hands, not even a scar."
Caleb glanced once more but found nothing amiss. An uneasy feeling settled within him, wondering if he had simply imagined it all or if his eyes had deceived him. "But it felt so real," Caleb murmured to himself.
Eventually, Caleb went to bed, settling into his bunk beside Tristan, pondering the enigma that his brother embodied.
Morning arrived, and Tristan felt a warmth in his chest as he woke up to find Caleb sleeping on him. A radiant grin illuminated Tristan's face.
As Caleb awoke, he greeted Tristan with a cheerful "Good morning." They exchanged an awkward gaze, a sense of connection lingering between them.
"How are you feeling? Any better?" Caleb asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Tristan's response came with a heartfelt sincerity. "When I'm with you, my day becomes brighter. I hope you always know that," he replied.
Caleb's lips curved into a soft smile. "Hmm, I could say the same. Being with you brings me happiness, and I always feel safe in your presence. I have never been more certain in my life choices."
With a newfound sense of hope, the two rose to greet the dawning of a brand new day.