Compassion, the Pariah

Release Year: 2023

As a shadow, a supposed wicked thing, Kailin dreaded the subjectivity of the bathroom mirror. The ghoulish appearance that lingered in his every step would only glare back at him, its stare boring deep within, taking him to a place he didn’t want to go. It was a veritable haunting of himself, by himself. Inescapable. And then there were the memories, the kind that no child should be burdened with.

     Some days, Kailin couldn’t help but claw at the shadow that marred his face and body, but that only made things worse. And messier. His exterior made the other orphans uncomfortable yet, internally and in a sick twist of irony, he was certain that they were far less alone than him in their shuffling away as a group. This isolation, the very prospect of compassion a social pariah among the others, was akin to a prison within a prison. A crown of bars surrounding a windowless, padded room. Heaven forbid he felt anything. God forbid that he had survived.

     Kailin’s condition also brought about physical pain and misery, sometimes to the point where the orphanage staff would call for a fed-up nurse. With her always came that stingy water – bitchwater, Kailin liked to call it, because it made him cry out and curse in a way that begged for his mother to give him a good talking to. Except she wasn’t around to fuss. That kind of attention, that level of concern, wasn’t a thing much of the time here.

     Today, however, there were more pressing concerns; the sandbox was calling Kailin’s name – a square of limitless creativity in the orphanage’s playground. All he needed to make each day bearable was his reliable little shovel, a pale to be filled with water, and a peanut butter sandwich to munch on while performing the daily ritual of building great works. These never failed him. These great works were infinitely more beautiful and appealing to others than he was, and Kailin couldn’t help but be fine with it some days. It often felt like enough, thereby serving as an illusion of bliss. Even if none of the other children commented on his work, they still glanced in his general direction. These were the only times they wouldn’t look upon him in disgust. It drowned the loneliness, his shadow, in a way that the bitchwater never could.

     Each morning, Kailin would contemplate what would be built that day. While other children pondered when they would be given a proper home by a loving couple, he had long given up hope and did his best to forget about it. Living out his own creative fantasies seemed the best way to live as, too many times after the accident, had he gotten his hopes up when potential mommies and daddies cast horrified looks his way. Nobody wanted him, and he didn’t want to need them, something he had come to accept at the ripe old age of nine.

     Somehow, however, today's business felt more pressing – would a great city for the local ants spring up from the sandbox out back? Or perhaps a maze, leading to crumbs from his daily sandwich? Excited, he sprung out of bed, his heavily scarred feet plopping onto the sunshine-warmed floor with glee.

     Distractions were an integral part of Kailin’s life at the orphanage, evidenced by the enthusiasm with which he bathed, clothed himself and wolfed down his breakfast, his mind firmly fixated on the limitless creative wonders awaiting him just out in the playground. Ignoring the continued stares that were now a staple of his everyday life as he ran outside, Kailin followed the same old gravel path under the maple trees. Sunlight greeted him through the canopy of foliage, lending a strange warming sensation to his mangled skin – a warmth of comfort. Heat used to terrify him after the accident, but he had taught himself that there were good and bad types of heat. A mother’s embrace was more powerful than a raging, alcohol-soaked inferno.

     The playground was always deserted early in the morning, but it didn’t take long for the other children to clamber onto the nearby jungle gym and swings – almost like they were waiting for the coast to be clear. Nobody dared go near the sandbox. They were too afraid. Every time he approached someone, they would run over to where the other children congregated, melting back into the great mass of eyes and mouths. The pariah striking once more, deafeningly so.

     Sitting in the familiar softness of the sandbox, he immediately got to the first task at hand: smoothing the site. Raking the edge of the shovel’s blade across the sand’s surface, savouring the sound of it gliding and compressing the fine grains, Kailin’s mind was nearly exploding at the prospects of what he could create. However, there were often distractions.

     “Is he a zombie?”

     “No, stupid. Zombies don’t know how to play. He’s just a freak.”

     “I wonder if he’s diseased?”

     “Dare you to go poke him.”

     “What if his skin falls off?”

     “What, more? Come on, I double dare you.”

     The insults of the huddled cliques always reached Kailin’s ears. Tears welled in his eyes, and he grew frustrated at himself; after all, this was nothing new. Smacking them away and letting out an annoyed sigh, he tried to focus on what really mattered. As the group of children sniggered and whispered, it became harder to remain fixated on prepping the little construction site before him. Impatient, he reached for the red pale of water, which the gardener, Paul, ensured was filled every morning for him, always accompanied with a winkled and endearing smile before tending to the posies. Sometimes Kailin wanted to ask Paul to join in, but he knew that he was too busy looking after the grounds. Plus, he didn’t want to scare away one of his only acquaintances by getting too close. Too much of a good thing.

     At the moment, the adults taking care of the orphanage were the only ones not afraid of him, but most of them had little desire to play in the sandbox. They were too busy with tools, papers, pencils, and whirring machines that complained with a million beeps. Sharing a bonding moment with anyone could hardly feel the same as the sand running between his burn-scarred fingers.

     Kailin eventually lost track of time in sculpting the day’s creation. He had settled on building a large castle complete with battlements, a keep, and a deep moat, the latter of which could keep visitors and their prying eyes out. He almost wished he could shrink down to size and move right in, slumbering in peace without having to hear the insults of the other children, the sand blanketing him in silent solace.

     “Hey, you!”

     Kailin looked up. No way that a youthful voice was addressing him, he thought. But sure enough, a tall girl stood before him, wearing a sleeved top and dress whose length danced in the wind playfully. Her blonde hair was tied back tightly in a ponytail, and she carried a small yellow lunchbox. Smiling bears adorned it, eating honey and making memories together.

     “Me?”

     “Yeah. You own this sandbox, or what?”

     He couldn’t believe the girl hadn’t screamed and run away like the rest. She’d been looking into his scarred face for more than a few seconds now and hadn’t flinched.

     “No. Why?”

     “Well, why don’t you let other kids come play in it? You a prick or something?”

     “A what?”

     “A prick. Dad says it’s a person who only thinks of themselves and stuff like that. You a prick? Huh?”

     “No! I’m not a… whatever you said –”

     “Prick!”

     “Yeah, that. I’m not one of those! Nobody wants to come over here, that’s all.”

     In response, she stomped into the sandbox, causing Kailin to drop his building tools in amazement, and sat on the edge beside him. Was this a challenge or a prank of some sort?

     “Well, I’m here. Why wouldn’t they want to come over? Your castle is so cool!”

     “Well it’s because… well, I guess –”

     “C’mon, spit it out!”

     “Can’t you tell just by looking at me?”

     She took a moment to study him, leaning in with her freckled face like a scientist with a microscope, squinting.

     “What, you have a booger or something? Wait – aren’t you the kid who eats bugs?”

     “What? No! He follows the gardener around and stuff.”

     “Well, what is it?”

     “My skin. Seriously, can’t you see?”

     “Oh. Were you burnt or something?”

     “Yeah, a couple years ago. That’s… well, it’s kind of why I’m here now.”

     Her eyes looked past Kailin’s exterior, overtaking the shadow and boring within in its stead.

     “So? They’re stupid.”

     He didn’t know what to say. She was the first child around his age to get this close to him, and it scared him more than the heat of the fire. More than the bitchwater. Interaction was more frightening than loneliness. Clearly, she noticed that he was afraid for, before he knew it, the girl was grasping his hand softly. Such an alien texture, innocent like the fine grains of sand left by the wayside. A familiarity.

     “You know, I bet you could kick all their butts. I mean, you lived through a fire! Kinda like a superhero or something.”

     “It’s not fun. My parents died when it happened.”

     She leaned back and put her head down, her grip tightening a little.

     “Oh. Look, I’m really sorry. I get too carried away sometimes. A ‘heightened sense of anxiety,’ one of my teachers would say.”

     “It’s okay. Why would they say something like that? You’re just being yourself. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

     “You’re pretty smart! Mom says some people go their whole lives without knowing that. I called that teacher a prick. Got me in trouble, sure, but I also got to switch classes. Joke’s on them?”

     “You go to school? Like, outside of your home?”

     “Well, yeah. Why do you think I’m comfortable with meeting people, even if they’re pricks?” the girl replied, smirking. “I even get to meet superheroes sometimes.”

     “Oh. I mean, there’s nothing super about me. And I’m fine. Really.”

     “You don’t seem fine. I saw you playing by yourself and eating the same stupid sandwich as yesterday. You’re so boring.”

     “I don’t mind. I’m kind of happy like this.”

     “It’s fake. It’s not real. So even if, say, I had extra food in my lunchbox, you’d be happy with the same sandwich you always eat? Or are you that afraid of people?”

     “I’m not afraid of people. I just don’t need them. I’m okay with that.”

     “Yeah? Doesn’t look like it when my school bus goes by here every morning and I always see you sitting here alone.”

     Kailin was stunned. Glancing at the lunchbox out of curiosity, he felt that she could be right.

     “So you’re actually offering –?”

     “Come on, I’m not up to something. I’m not a prick,” she said, smirking. “Well, not always.”

She popped open the lid of the bear-laden plastic container. Inside were juice boxes, warmed-up hamburgers that looked as if they had just been cooked and brought over, and fresh pears. Kailin sniffled and tried to avoid showing the pain; he simply couldn’t help but be overcome with the girl’s generosity. None of this made any sense.

     “Hey, it’s all right. Don’t feel bad for being alone. Here, you can have the bigger hamburger – you like cheese?”

     “I – what? Cheese?”

     “Yeah. Cheese. From cows. They moo.”

     “Uh… erm, yeah. Why?”

     “The bigger one has more cheese. You look like you don’t really eat much, so take it.”

     As he reached out, Kailin trembled. He couldn’t take it. The emotions came flooding back and were unstoppable. The girl then put an arm around him. Crying softly and hoping nobody would notice, he felt ashamed and useless. She pulled him in closer, her imposing presence a shield. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

     “Hey, it’s okay. Mom always told me a good cry means you’re being honest or something.”

     There were a few minutes of strangely blissful silence. The sound of the children chattering and frolicking around them faded, and all Kailin could hear was the breathing of the smart-mouthed girl as she appeared eager to watch out for him. Perhaps a sister he never had, even if only for a day. He wondered what the others thought of him now with her here. Then again, why did he still feel a need to care? Looking around, the bubble broke, and he caught a gaggle of them, pointing and mocking.

     “I see them too,” the girl said, loudening her voice. “Just stare at them. Remember, you can kick their butts. Superheroes don’t put up with pricks.”

     Sure enough, Kailin not breaking his stare made the boys uncomfortable.

     “Come on, let’s go play ball. He’s weird.”

     “He’s probably dying or something anyway.”

     “What a freak. Come on, guys.”

     After they walked away, the girl boxed Kailin in the arm. It was meant to be playful, he figured, but it nearly sent him into the dirt.

     “Okay, enough crying. You’re gonna be strong now, right?”

     “Well, I –”

     “What did I say?!”

     “Okay, okay! I will. Sheesh.”

     The girl smiled, plopping the bigger hamburger in his hand.

     “I’m Marlena.”

     “Uh, Kailin.”

      There was a moment of awkward silence between them as their eyes met, the scent of the burgers wafting through the air. “You know you’re supposed to eat hamburgers, right?” Marlena quipped. Kailin snapped out of his gaze and wolfed it down. Not since before the fire had he eaten something so delicious.

     “Good?” she asked, clearly amused yet somehow sympathetic.

     Kailin nodded excitedly, his mouth full and covered in crumbs. Marlena laughed, flashing a splendid smile. The two of them ate and inspected the sandcastle together over the next while, pointing enthusiastically where there ought to be improvements made.

     “Why are you being so nice to me?” Kailin asked, the two of them kneeling beside the empty lunchbox and widening the castle gates to allow for more visitors.

     “Why can’t I be nice? What did you do wrong?”

     “Nobody really bothers with me like this, other than people who feel sorry for me.”

     “You know what it is, right?”

     “Not really.”

     “They don’t know who you are,” she smirked, pointing towards his heart. “In here.”

     “I guess,” said Kailin, doing his best to believe it. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

     “Duh. I don’t live here.”

     “What do you mean? How’d they let you in?”

     Just then, the secretary from the orphanage, Miss Cromley, appeared alongside the two, eyeing Kailin’s latest creation in excitement. Like Paul the gardener, she gave him extra attention; with her, it normally came in the form of sweets snuck to him when passing one other in the halls. Perhaps this was why they were the only adults whose names he could remember, he thought; they took the time to remember him.

     “Kailin, I have some wonderful news! Would you like to live with a lady who likes building things as much as you do?”

     The news was almost too much to bear. Surely this was all a ruse of some sort. Marlena jumped from the sandbox, dancing around and cheering, while Kailin sat there dumbstruck. “YES! Pricks, pricks, pricks! Is it your turn? Nope! Because you’re pricks!” Marlena shouted at the other children. Miss Cromley gave her a disapproving look, though Kailin could tell that she was trying not to laugh.

     “Wait, so someone wants to… to adopt me?”

     “Yes, Kailin. That’s right!”

    “… Who?”

     “Oh, she’s a lovely lady who designs houses. She saw you building in the sandbox yesterday and was so excited to talk to us!”

     “But wait, is she nice? W-what if she doesn’t like –?”

     “Oh, come on, Kailin! Say yes!” Marlena interjected, mid-prick-dance and stomping around gleefully. Miss Cromley seemed to understand his hesitation, kneeling down and rubbing his shoulder softly. She wasn’t afraid of the textures, much like how she was one of the few to give him a hug instead of the bitchwater whenever he grew frustrated. She knew what he needed.

     “Kailin, I don’t want you to worry. She knows what happened and couldn’t be more excited to give you a home that you deserve. We made sure she was good for you. It’s okay. I’m sorry that it took us so long to find someone… big hearts are harder to come by nowadays.”

     Her confidence in the mysterious stranger was comforting. Did they really care enough to say no to some people?

     “Well… okay, I’ll go. Do I have to wait long?”

     “Not at all. She’s in her car waiting for you right now. Go on.”

     Miss Cromley then pointed towards a section of chain-link fence bordering the orphanage grounds. A bright yellow car was parked just beyond on the side of the road. A tall, plump-looking lady with a sunhat stood waiting with the rear door open, leaning lazily against the side. Classic, catchy rock music was booming from her car stereo – Kailin could hear some girl singing about white-winged doves with a guitar thrusting along in the background. The woman bore a wide, warm smile and nodded at him with a sense of enthusiasm that was strangely familiar. It almost reminded him of how he felt dashing out to the sandbox every morning.

     “You ready?” Marlena asked, pulling his hand excitedly away from the orphanage.

     “Wait, what? You’re going, too?”

     “Well, yeah! How else is Mom going to take me home?”

     Kailin couldn’t believe it. It all made sense now.

     “Your what?” he exclaimed, flabbergasted.

     “My mom, and she’s a who, not a what!” Marlena replied, laughing before noticing Kailin’s confused expression. “Relax! I learned that from a show we watch at home. It’s old but super funny. Oh hey, you have any stuff you wanna take?”

     Kailin looked back and noticed Paul trimming a shrub along the side of the building. Their eyes met, and the weathered but humbled old gardener grinned in excitement, like a weight was lifted. A hearty wave followed; it practically begged for the child to never look back. A final, necessary farewell and the best of wishes.

     “Nope, I’ve got what I need.” Kailin responded, fighting the stubborn tears and waving back, letting his eyes linger for just a precious moment on one of the few faces who loved his before turning away. Meanwhile, Miss Cromley had already gone ahead and unlocked the gate leading to the street. She stood waiting, beaming brightly as ever.

     “We’re going to miss you, Kailin. Now, go on out there and have the best adventure ever!”

     Kailin forced a smile through the wall of shock, half-hugging her in thanks and stepping through to freedom. Every orphan in the yard suddenly gave him the time of day with their bewildered stares. Not a word was spoken. As the two followed the fence towards the cheerful yellow car, the woman squatted to his level with an excited look on her face, arms wide open for a hug without a care for distance. With Marlena’s help, vanquishing the pain had ensured a future that he could look forward to. The textures etched into his skin had become a gift rather than a curse. The shadow had been left behind, buried deep within the sandcastle walls.

     “Wanna know how I knew you were a superhero after all?” Marlena asked as they approached her mother. Nearing her open arms, Kailin noticed that they looked nothing alike.

     “What do you mean?”

     Marlena pulled back her right sleeve, revealing an arm even more scarred from burns than his.

     “I used to play in that sandbox.”