Archetypes

“Shoot,” Zoe curses under her breath, sticky orange sugar trailing down her arm from the popsicle in her hand. Above, the hot sun beats down, scattering diamond light across the surface of the pool in front of her. Though, as Zoe squints at the sky, she notices shadowy clouds hurrying across the otherwise pristine blue, a dark adversary coming to eliminate the pool fun. Still, laughter and happy shrieks sprinkle the sizzling air as dozens of swimmers splash about in the water. Zoe herself, though, dangles her feet in the cool water alone, not in but not out, watching, but not participating. 

She stands quickly, eyeing the sticky mess of her hand. Her feet slap across the blazing cement, warmed from a full day of the early August sun, as she heads toward the concessions stand. With all of the children swimming, the line is nonexistent. As Zoe approaches the stand, she recognizes the boy working behind the stand. Elias, she thinks. He goes to her school. A tiny shiver of anxiety creeps through her as she thinks about having to talk to him. He’s one of the popular jocks. It’s likely he doesn’t even know her name. Though he probably doesn’t know much of anything, she thinks. Shame floods through her at the thought, but deep in her heart she still believes it. 

She’s about to turn around and find napkins elsewhere when the sirens blare through the humid summer air.

The shrieking of the sirens hit Claire like a punch. They tear apart the lively energy at the pool and infuse it with confusion and fear. Happy laughter turns to questioning murmurs and worried shouts. The swimmers move toward the exit like a flock of panicked birds, the sound of hurried bodies moving through water filling the air. To complete the scene, a dark cloud shrouds the summer sun, casting shadows across the pool. 

Claire is frozen for a moment before snapping her attention to the situation. She takes a peek behind her at the swirling clouds blanketing the sky. Realizing the town’s tornado siren has been sounded, she flings herself into action. As a lifeguard, she’s been trained for this exact situation, especially living in the heart of Tornado Alley. 

Crawling down from her lifeguard chair, she hurries over the steadily cooling sidewalk to the concessions stand, blond hair bouncing in her ponytail. With a burst of alarm, she sees the exit clogging up with people, their eyes desperate and worried. She turns back to the stand, relief flooding through her as the pool’s manager comes out from the back of the stand, Elias in tow. 

He starts talking before Claire even reaches him. “I need you guys to open up the big exit so people can get through and get safe. You guys have been trained for this, you know what to do,” he asserted, his voice clear and commanding. 

He turns away, eyes searching around him. They land on a familiar face, a girl from school named Zoe. She stands awkwardly nearby, her feet rooted to the ground.

 “You there. We are understaffed today. I need a couple people to help out the lifeguards here. If you could stay for just a few minutes, we would all really appreciate the help. Please,” he implores, fixing his gaze on her. The wind picks up, tossing everyone’s hair around flinging leaves through the air.

“Yeah, of course,” she replies, her words confident, but her voice nervous. 

“Thank you. Claire, keep her with you,” the manager says, turning from Zoe. Claire notices a chubby boy about thirteen years old strolling toward him. “Okay everyone, get on it. Go open up the big exit and make sure everyone gets out okay. Then, we need to start tying some things down, and we can get out of here,” he says, shouting now. His voice steadily increases to be heard above the sirens and the quickening wind.

“Excuse me,” the boy Claire noticed earlier addresses the manager. He taps on his shoulder a few times until he turns around. The boy wrings his reddening hands nervously. “My house is twenty minutes away walking. Do you think I could stay here? I can help with anything you need,” the boy finishes, his eyes wide and worried. The manager’s eyebrows pull together with concern.

“Um, sure kid. I’ll stick you with Elias. We’ll call your parents as soon as we get the chance. There’s a tornado shelter here, so don’t worry,” the manager explains calmly. He turns back to all of them. “Alright everyone, get on it. And be careful,” he warns, before turning and striding back to the concessions stand, the raging wind swallowing the sound of his footsteps.

Great, Elias thinks, looking down at the kid next to him. I’m stuck with a kid. A fat kid on top of it. Even as he thinks it, a quiver of guilt pulls at him. He knows it’s cruel. Still, he internally sighs at the thought of having to get around with the kid trailing him the whole time. 

Even now, as they bustle to the big exit, he is falling behind. Elias jogs ahead, reaching the chain link fence quickly. He grabs the keys hanging around his neck, and they jangle as he shoves one into the lock. He smoothly removes the lock, quickly slipping it into his pocket, before pulling one side of the gate open. The kid finally arrives, and he manages to open up the other side, the wheels squeaking from disuse. 

“What’s your name, kid?” Elias calls over the howling wind. 

The boy turns to him, though his eyes frantically scan the clouds above. “Diego,” he answers simply, balling his fists with anxiety. Elias nods, focusing his gaze on the packed exit. The crowd starts to disperse as more and more people start to head toward the larger exit. The two of them stand on either side of the open gate, only a few feet apart in reality, but worlds away in the realm where it really counts. 

Diego peeks over at Elias. The teenager leans against the fence stiffly, his face unflinching against the ripping wind. His icy blue eyes scan the crowd across the pool, showing no signs of emotion. His strong arms are crossed across his chest, his defined muscles bulging beneath his crimson shirt. The loose lifeguard uniform doesn’t hide the firm athletic build beneath, full of tough edges and straight lines. Diego looks down at himself, his stout, curvy body visible beneath the grey t-shirt he wore today. 

Part of him wishes he looked like Elias. That part wants to make his parents happy, to take away the disappointment he sees in their eyes when he breaks from his diet. Really, that part of him wants to make the world happy. He wants others to see what they want to see, which is a healthy, happy thirteen-year-old boy. No one wants to see an anxious kid that is struggling to drop the weight he’s had for years now. No one wants to see how painful it is for him to know he’s failing when he’s trying so hard. No one wants to see anything besides rainbows and butterflies, and part of him wants to give that to them. 

But the other part of him kindles a flame in his heart that says no. No, he shouldn’t have to hide his pain so others can feel relief. No, he shouldn’t have to feel embarrassed about the way he looks because of what society has deemed normal. And no, he shouldn’t have to change himself to make other people happy when it makes him miserable. Even if the people he wants to change for the most are the people who should assure him that he doesn’t need to change. That he is perfect the way he is. 

Well, Diego knows that they won’t do that for him, so he has to do it for himself. 

“Everyone, head toward the larger exit!” Claire shouts at the crowds. More and more people peel out from the edges to migrate to Elias and the kid. All the while, the sirens wail with warning and the clouds swirl menacingly.

Zoe tries to help the best she can, but she feels herself shrinking away the closer she gets to the crowd. She watches Claire become completely enveloped in people and stay composed. She’s in her element among the masses, something Zoe cannot understand. She feels a spurt of jealousy watching Claire, watching her perfection shine through as always. 

At school, Claire is always conversing with someone. She gets along with everyone, knows every person’s name. She’s even spoken to Zoe a few times, always with a kind smile and happy words. All the teachers like her, and no one has an issue with her. What’s not to love? She seems to empathize with anyone and makes it her personal goal to make everyone happy. It’s enough to make Zoe want to barf.

How is it that Claire can make a friend of anyone when Zoe can barely get along with her own family? It doesn’t matter anyway, Zoe thinks. You’re better off alone. She repeats it in her head almost every day, begging herself to believe it.

But it doesn’t take away the loneliness that hollows her when she realizes that there was no one she wanted to call when the sirens went off. 

It only takes a few minutes for all of the pool goers to get out, hurrying to the safety of their homes. Once they are gone, Claire ushers Zoe toward the concessions stand, where her manager is busy closing up. Trailing behind them are Elias and the kid from earlier. She makes a mental note to figure out his name later. 

Zoe quietly follows her, her energy a little standoffish. It’s the only thing that keeps Claire from talking to her. Otherwise, she would like to get to know her a little better. She wonders why she always comes to the pool alone, and also why she doesn’t seem to mind. Claire hates being alone. It’s when she’s alone that the thoughts pour in, usually things she could have done better, how she could have made others feel more comfortable. She mainly pours over the many conversations she’s had, scrutinizing every word. Should she not have asked that question? Did what she said sound stupid? What did the other person think of her when she said this? 

It’s exhausting. It’s why Claire surrounds herself with people. She talks to other people so she doesn’t have the chance to think about herself.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” Claire’s manager announces ominously over the storm when they all arrive. “The good news is that I’ve already tied everything down, so there’s nothing left to do. The bad news is that there is no time for you to get home. You’ll all need to shelter here. I have to go home. It’s not too far, and my family needs me there. Be careful and stay safe,” he finishes abruptly. With that, he strides away toward the exit, hurrying to outrun the storm. 

At that moment, Claire hears a tap. Then another. Looking down at the spotted cement, she realizes the rain has started. Soon, a cacophony of droplets hitting the ground fills the air, the rain pouring down on them as well. With her hair drenched and her clothes wet, Claire motions for the others to follow her to the shelter. 

The four of them head toward the shelter, each of their minds elsewhere than the world before them trying to swallow them whole. 

Elias is the last down the shelter’s steps, closing the hatch behind him. The howling wind instantly quiets, leaving only the distant whisper of the storm beyond the cement walls. He turns around to find a small room lit with fluorescent lights. Two of the walls are lined with stiff benches, beneath which lie a few blankets. Besides that, only cold cement greets them in the tiny room.

The girl Claire is with sits in one corner to the right, pulling her knees to her chest on the bench. Elias recognizes her, but can’t place her name. Joey maybe? He can’t remember. All he knows is that she walks around school alone, and some of his friends make fun of her. She doesn’t seem bothered by what anyone else thinks, though. A dash of longing pulls at him, and he realizes that he wishes that he could do that.

He is worried about what other people think of him. Mainly because he’s afraid it’s true. He’s the school jock. He excels in P.E, but fails everything else. And he’s not supposed to mind it, not supposed to try. All his friends are the same way. People like them because they are nice to look at. They’re simple, easy to understand. But is that all Elias is?

Claire joins Zoe on the bench to the right, so Diego and Elias take the one to the left. Elias notices Diego anxiously squeezing his left hand in his right, absentmindedly staring downward. Claire notices it, too, and Elias sees her chocolate eyes melt with sympathy.

“Hey,” she murmurs to him sweetly. Outside, Elias hears the hail start, dangerous ice knocking insistently above them. “I’m Claire, and this is Zoe. I think you know Elias already. It’s going to be okay. What’s your name?”

“Diego,” he shares, meeting her eyes before looking back down. 

After a moment, the fluorescent lights flicker once, twice, before drenching the room in thick darkness. Elias hears a gasp from Diego to his left, and he feels a pool of dread growing in his belly.

When the lights went out, Diego’s anxiety spiked. Worry eats at him now as he sits in the dark, Claire assuring everyone that everything is fine. He drowns out her saccharine voice until he hears a sharp retort cutting through the dark. 

“Stop, just stop,” the other girl, Zoe, burst out. “You don’t know anymore about the situation than us. So just shut up.” Her words are hard, but her voice wavers. Fear shivers through all of them as they recognize the panic in her voice.

“I’m just trying to make everyone feel better,” Claire returns calmly after a moment.

“That’s always what you do, isn’t it? You make people feel better. You make people feel calm. You know, sometimes people don’t want that. Sometimes people just want to be left alone,” Zoe retaliated, her voice a little sad. 

“Is that really what you want?” Claire asks gently. “To be left alone?”

“Yes,” Zoe confirms immediately, almost trying to convince herself of it’s truth. After a moment though, she continues, “No. I don’t know.” When Claire doesn’t answer, and the silence starts to stretch, she explains, “I think. . . I think I’m tired of being alone.” Her voice breaks on the last word. Her restrained sniffles fill the air.

After a full minute, Claire’s voice, thick with tears, rips through the black, “I’m tired of being surrounded all the time. You know, I spend so much time changing myself to fit what will make other people comfortable that I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Her voice drops to a whisper of bitter recognition, “I don’t know if I ever did.”

To his right, Elias pipes up, “I’m tired of trying to fit into the stereotype everyone thinks I am. I’m terrified of actually trying in my classes because I don’t want to fail, and it won’t be on purpose,” he says, his voice strained with the emotion he holds back. His voice sombers, “Then, I’ll know I really am the dumb jock everyone thinks I am. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Enveloped in the darkness, a feeling of immunity passes over Diego, a sense that this small shelter without light is an entirely different world, where the secrets it keeps stay hidden forever. He speaks into the freeing darkness, letting his deepest fears crawl out from their depths, “I’m tired of dieting. I’m tired of trying to fit the mold other people create for me. Most of all, I’m tired of everyone else telling me I’m not good enough. I hate that I feel guilty when I tell myself that I am.”

Everyone’s words are swallowed by the silence that follows. Though the words are few, Diego has a sense that they are the most meaningful and true ones that any of them have ever spoken.

They sit, lost in thought as they realize how similar four completely different people can be. Each of them is enveloped in darkness, both outside and inside, doing their best to keep it from swallowing them whole.

After what feels like hours, sudden light cuts through the black shelter room as the trapdoor groans open. All of their eyes burn with the sudden burst of light. The manager calls them up from above, and they all make their way up the stairs.

In the distance to the east, darkness still swirls along the horizon. But west, the blinding sun cuts through the clouds, accompanied by a vivid rainbow. The difference between the world they left behind to the world they enter now is bewildering. 

However, they know it’s the same one they had to escape. Now, they’ve seen the darkness and confronted it, together.

All it took was a jock. A fat kid. A loner. And a queen bee. All it took was a dark room and a few hours. 

All it took was a tornado to rip through the world for the sun to shine through again.