Dashiell opened the light snacks he got for us and offered me to eat them with him. I reluctantly agreed albeit I don't feel like eating at this hour when I am supposed to be sleeping. I thought if I don't accept Dashiell's offer, he would get offended which I don't want to happen.
In between Dashiell's munching on our snacks, he begins, "My dad asked help from his friend, uncle Ray, who we discovered as the owner of the inn where our common entrance is located. I don't know if I should call this fate or coincidence, but uncle Ray happened to be an acquaintance of your uncle Bob. He said that your uncle Bob once saved him from a hospital debt. Your uncle Bob paid more than half of his hospital bills. Back to uncle Ray, he registered himself as my legal guardian. As you might expect, we lied that dad had disappeared without my knowledge, leaving me orphaned. Naturally, my registered address was changed into that of uncle Ray's that's why I was able to finish my studies without getting questioned by the authorities despite being the son of a wanted person. About the financing of my studies, uncle Ray, aunt Mari, and Dr. Al helped my dad. Through aunt Mari's indirect connection, their funds were successfully transferred to uncle Ray's bank account; hence, the easy sourcing of money for my school expenses. When I was in the middle of college though, I needed to work part-time because of the higher financial expenses then. And that's how things worked out."
"Dashiell, what did you mean by mama's indirect connection?" came my inquiry.
"Oh, that one! It was your uncle Bob's colleague whom aunt Mari asked help from that's why I said her indirect connection."
"I see."
"Is that all that you want to ask?"
I shook my head, then resume throwing one question after the other.
I ask where he keeps the cars he uses. He said that the cars he uses aren't really his; they're all borrowed from uncle Ray's acquaintance who happens to have a car rental business. I also learned that in any online transaction he does, he lists uncle Ray as the recipient.
Dashiell told me that his sim card is registered as the contact number for uncle Ray's apartelle. When I asked how he deals with the inquiries or reservations he gets from clients, he said that he forwards them to uncle Ray's telephone. Similarly, Dashiell uses the other official e-mail address of uncle Ray's apartelle. Uncle Ray apparently uses two e-mail addresses for his apartelle. If Dashiell receives an e-mail that's related to uncle Ray's business, he just forwards them to the other official e-mail address.
As I nod in acknowledgment of everything he said so far, he asks again if I still have anything else I want to ask.
I replied, "Yes, there are still many things that I want to ask."
Dashiell sighed in response to it but encouraged me to get on with it.
"How come you're so fit? I mean, how is it that you know a lot about self-defense techniques? Were you involved in some club or organization that involves such? Or maybe martial arts was your sport back in school? Wait, were you an athlete?" came my inquiry.
"Whoa! Didn't I say, ask questions one by one. I feel like being interrogated here instead of having a casual talk, you know," was Dashiell's reply.
I tried to talk back to explain that it wasn't the case, but before I could, Dashiell resumed talking, "I want to get this over with so I'll just answer all of that in one go, in the same way, that you asked me. At age 4, I convinced my dad to enroll me in a taekwondo class. I reached 6th Dan Black Belt in it 7 years later. A year later, I quitted."
I gaped with what he said and I couldn't help but be curious about his reason for quitting so without hesitation, I asked, "Why did you quit? Did you injure yourself or?"
Dashiell didn't let me finish summing up my assumptions, "It's not injury-related; I lost interest."
I arched an eyebrow at him, "Huh? Why'd you lose interest at something you're good at?"
Dashiell took a deep breath before replying, "One day, as I was on my way home after school, I saw some random people practicing some awesome moves. I got interested so I came up to them and asked what moves they were doing. They said it's MMA; Mixed Martial Arts. I expressed my interest in learning MMA to them. After some convincing, they agreed to teach me every after school and on weekends. Because I already know taekwondo, keeping up with them wasn't difficult. The simulations were a bit difficult though that's why..."
I cut Dashiell mid-sentence, "What? You had fight simulations with people who are obviously older and stronger than you? You must have had been going home with a sorely beaten-up body!"
"Haha, no. That's why don't cut me off when I'm still talking, you idiot Alaine."
I puffed my cheeks at his "idiot" insult. He just laughs again then continues, "What I meant with difficult there is I had to use the techniques to counter their attack while also restraining myself from getting too serious otherwise, all of us will get hurt badly. Oh and going back to why I lost interest at taekwondo, it's not because you're good at something that you'll never lose interest in it."
"I see. So, anyway, I now get the reason why you're this good at self-defense. That said, how come you didn't enter the military or police force?"
"And here I thought this talk is over," remarked a sighing Dashiell who obviously wants to end our talk. Despite that, he still replied, "I have two reasons. One, I don't want to work for the government after what happened to Aunt Mari. Two, I doubt that I can maintain my lifestyle with that job. Taekwondo and MMA were just my hobbies, get that? The point is being interested in something will not always mean it's what you'll choose to do for the rest of your life. Also, you're one to talk when you who are addicted to piano didn't pursue music!"
I huffed and my face turned sour as he hit the nail on the head which left him laughing.
Recovering from his laugh, Dashiell flicked my forehead, earning a squeak from me, then said, "Don't take that personally; I was just stating a point. And, one more thing..."
Dashiell paused then ouch! He grabbed my cheeks and pinched them, saying, "I've been talking about myself since we got here. Why won't you talk about yourself instead?"
He lets go of my cheeks after saying that, giving me the chance to speak, "I'm sorry. I promise I'll talk about myself after I hear what I need to hear from you."
Dashiell sighed again, "It's okay, I understand, you're still suspicious of me..."
I quickly responded to refute what he said, but he just waived it off and told me once again that it's okay and he didn't mind since after bringing Dr. Foley down, we won't have to see each other again. Hearing so somewhat tightened my chest in a bad way. I felt hurt particularly with the "we won't have to see each other again."
I didn't realize that I spaced out a bit until Dashiell waves a hand in front of me, saying, "Hey! Are you okay? It's really late now, so maybe we should head to bed? You must be sleepy. Come on, let's continue this next time."
I want to continue our talk so I insisted that I'm not feeling sleepy yet but a yawn escaped my mouth, betraying my intent.
"See, you yawned. There's no way that you're not sleepy yet so come on, let's get you back to your room while you can still stand. Besides, you're forgetting your promise that you're not falling asleep on me again. Remember, I'll leave you sleeping on this cold, hard floor and won't carry you back to your room even if you collapsed."
Bringing up the promise I made earlier caused me to go along with his suggestion not because I'm worried that I'll end up sleeping on the floor but because I'm ashamed to cause Dashiell an inconvenience again.
Dashiell escorted me back to my bedroom and wished me good night before he stepped out to go to his bedroom. I wished him back a 'good night' before he's completely out of my bedroom.
Lying down on my bed, I thought that I probably hurt Dashiell's feelings badly when I first got here that he seems forced when he talks to me. I know I'm at fault, but that's why I want to make up for it and I think trying to get to know him better is my first step to make that happen and I'm not giving up no matter what; I'm only getting started.
And Alaine went to sleep with that resolve.
Inside Dashiell's room, there seated on the edge of the bed is his dad, Thomas who is grinning widely and is giving off a knowing look. Dashiell is confused to see his dad inside his room.
"What the...Dad, why are you here? I thought you were asleep!"
"How can I sleep, son, when you said that you'll visit Alaine in her room?" responded a still smiling Thomas.
"Geez, dad! I only talked to her."
"Ooh! Are you sure you just talked to her? Something good seems to have happened between you two."
"Come on, dad! It's nothing like that. We just talked in the LIVING room."
"Hahaha! I know, son. I was just kidding. So what did you two talk about?"
Dashiell clicked his tongue before replying, "As if you didn't hear everything we talked about; I know you followed and eavesdropped on us. I'm surprised you didn't bring Dr. Al along."
"Sorry, Dashiell. I thought I need to hear the budding relationship of my son with Alaine."
"Please, Dad, stop it!"
"Alright, son, I'll stop teasing you. But, why include some lies in your story? Are you sure you don't want to tell her about what truly happened when you turned 12?"
Dashiell sighed deeply before reasoning, "She doesn't need to know, dad. She doesn't need to feel more troubled than she already is given our present situation."
"Okay, son, I understand. I respect your decision as always. I just hope you are doing the right decision."
"Right decision, huh? Nobody can really tell if you made the right decision until you see the consequences."
"I guess you're right, son. Now, let's go to sleep?"
"Yeah, dad. Good night!"
"Good night too, son."
The night is almost coming to an end and another day awaits them all.