Everyday Gallivant

There was one thing that Tristan thought as he was running away from possible detainment at his local juvenile center, it was the action movies that made running seem so easy. Sweating a bit here and there with their cool and pretty faces, while he was here sweating buckets with his hair all greasy from the sweltering June weather. His shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably as sweat dripped to his eyes, squinting and blinking as his vision had gotten a bit blurry from the salty liquid.

Feeling his grasp slip a bit, he gripped the plastic bag close to his chest like it meant the end of the world if he accidentally dropped it.

Running away, he bumped into a few people who were walking in the litter-infested, concrete sidewalk of Metro Manila. Towering skyscrapers surrounded him on the side with some local wet markets and houses squished into the middle, the occasional rancid smell of fish guts and heavy smoke drifted to his nose. On the other side of him was the asphalt roads, as cars were honking away by the raging drivers who were stuck in the never-ending traffic. Tristan almost swore that he'd gone deaf for a second. 

The sun shone in the middle of the azure sky, the scorching heatwave was almost unbearable. Even with the heat, like a busy beehive, everyone went on their merry way, with occasional glances at the little thief on the loose.

A sudden “FWEET!” was heard as a police officer waved their fist back and forth into the air. His eyes burning, his nostrils flaring, “Get back here you hooligan!”

Sweat dripped down from Tristan’s face. He wasn’t much of a runner but the police officer was quite sluggish in his attempt to capture him. He quickly turned to an alleyway, willing a new appearance to overtake him.

He felt his body slowly melting away, a burning sensation emanated from the ring, the feeling slowly consumed him as his body’s structure began to shift. He had hope that the cop wouldn’t arrive for a few minutes. Hiding behind a rancid heap of rotting week-old garbage, he willed his curly auburn hair shift into unruly platinum blond locks that reached down to his neck, he felt his feet barely fitting his flip-flops, kneeling to a nearby puddle he saw cerulean blue eyes.

He strolled out of the alleyway with a nervous smile. He started to walk in the opposite direction when finally the copper has caught up. Watching as the officer was heavily panting amused him, but he tried his best to look as worried as he should, trying not to smile at the thought of almost getting away. As much as he would have loved to eat his ice cream right there and then to beat the heat, he had to make sure he could eat them and not be dragged to juvenile for larceny.

“Are you alright, officer?”

The officer huffed and puffed as passersby gazed curiously before turning away. The officer squinted at Tristan as if he was seeing double, scanning him up and down but shook his head. Same clothing but a different face, though grimacing from the rancid smell that wafted from Tristan shirt, “Have you seen a red-headed boy pass through here?” he asked in between breaths.

“Oh, I think he went in that direction!” he called out as curiosity overtook his face, hugging the plastic bag full of ice cream tighter to his chest. He pointed to the street up ahead while searching the heavy-lidded black eyes of the burly cop for a flicker of recognition.

Nodding, the officer hobbled towards the other street trying to catch the rascal who stole a bunch of ice cream tubs from the local grocery store.

As soon as the cop was out of earshot, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. The officer almost caught him, but it had been worth it anyways. He'd succeeded at his test.

A test to see if he could get away with doing anything he wishes, like he could get what he wanted for a change.

He started to walk back to his little apartment, with a triumphant smile on his face from the success he had. Though the success felt a little short-lived as a memory buzzed into his mind like a fly, his smile instantly dropped.

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His parents kicked him out to the trash-filled road that cool afternoon and disowned him for not being the perfect little boy they had wanted. He tried his best to appeal to their wants and needs, never really bothered with striving for self-satisfaction and joy of his own. 

Until that week that is.

Going out with friends after school and going to places he hasn't been to, just when he got a taste of joy and freedom, suddenly bam! He had nothing left but a few items and a little bit of cash on him.

"And stay out where you belong, you rat!" The wooden door slammed in front of him as he sighed with a grimace plastered on his face looking at the items thrown out with him. He sat by the sidewalk, biting on the skin of his lips, he wracked his brain for a place to think over what to do next and calm him down.

If there was one place that could calm him after that ordeal, it would be to see the waves as the sunsets. At least it could let his mind relax for a bit before thinking of a way to survive.

To his surprise that day, he will not be left to defend himself on the streets with nothing, but instead getting a handy thing that could save his adolescent life from starving.

Luckily for him, the bay was just 31 minutes away from where he lived and he walked the whole way. His feet felt sore but it was worth it. The view of the ocean was beautiful, he thought as he sat on the sandy shore, surrounded by a couple of empty bottles, cans, and a lot more junk. 

He began to recount the crazy week he has gone through but shook those thoughts out of his head. Nothing good will come out from remembering what has already happened. He stood up deciding to walk towards the water to soak his feet in. A few steps forward he had noticed something shining just by the seafoam.

Crouching down beside it, he peered over the tiny thing. Digging up the sand with his hands, he had found what seems to be a golden ring, with a shiny blue gem encased on top.

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Shaking his head from his reverie, he saw he'd arrived at his apartment, it was small but at least it provided a decent enough shelter. He patted around his pants for the key for a few seconds, nervous that he had lost the key somewhere when he was being chased. He eventually opened the door to his apartment, closing it on his way in.

Finally safe inside, he threw the ice cream on his bed and walked towards the bathroom. He took off his drenched t-shirt and slowly but surely he felt his face burn and melt once more; his body contorting to his original appearance. Groaning at the growing pain of each changing area, it felt a bit sore all around. Like getting up from having a minor fever while wrapped in a heavy and thick blanket.

Staring at the blurry and cracked mirror, his beautiful deep blue eyes gradually shifting to one of a simple maple brown. The long platinum locks he had slowly colored into a short midnight black. The ground beneath his feet grew a little bit further away as he went out of the bathroom, he gazed around his small and dusty bedroom apartment.

His clothes had loosened up quite a little; shapeshifting was an irritating ordeal when you feel each part of yourself being torn apart and molded back with each try, but at least it kept him a step away from being in the center. He sighed, exhausted from running, sweeping his messy hair to the right gazing at his new appearance.

Awe danced his face as it never ceases to amaze when he looks at the mirror and saw that the old version of himself had vanished, just like that. He sat down on his tattered and rickety bed. Looking over the ice cream tubs sprawled across his bed and knew that no matter what happened, this was his life, for better or worse.

But it was just the beginning of Tristan's gallivant days, never boring and dull with his newfound powers. But unusually, it felt as if it will never be satisfying and he didn’t know what to feel about that.