Wanderer

This is a story about a man Arac, stuck between childhood and adulthood. He desires independence but is stuck in his own worldly affairs in the village of Bhodin.

Wanderer

There were a couple of things those coming of age would do that would annoy those with homes in the village of Bhodin. They would drink all the good ale, wouldn’t work the fields any good, and were easily guided by worldly possessions (not showing up to service). What they don’t tell in these stories, is that when it is time to come of age, all that can be possessed is what can be carried. All are eventually homeless, and in due time wanderers. Set not roots down, for everything is impermanent.

Work wasn’t sparse, pay wasn’t enough for a full living. Perhaps a life of wandering isn’t so bad, Arac thought. He looked out the tavern window panes toward the empty streets. He imagined vendors and street merchants hawking copper and silver, being the middleman for those who had, and those who did not. He imagined worlds bustling with people excited to meet other people.

“I don’t pay you for staring out windows now, do I?”

Arac looked unsettled by the big man who worked behind the wooden barstools and long serving table. “I don’t suppose you do. Don’t suppose you pay me that well for doing much more than that either though.” Arac looked back toward the window solemnly one last time for a little while. The big man sneered audibly.

He went wiping down empty tables, avoiding any human entanglement he could. He looked back up towards where the alcohol storage was. Most of the lights were kept low, saving most of the expenses for when it was darker outside and more people would be in. The windows paid well, free light and all that. At least that’s what Arac thought.

The big man was prepping for the dinner service for tonight, a large stew. Would bring in a lot of pay. The man is a glutton, but knows how to cook. Knows how to get asses in seats. 

The big man would occasionally whistle Arac over to deliver drinks to tables in between adding bits of chopped onions, carrots, and ghotal slices. The aroma filled the room over the course of the day, heads wandering in through the doors for quick moments, capturing the spicy stew they would eat at the end of the day.

“Light the flames will ya. Don’t want anyone to trip because they can’t see where they’re walkin. It’ll be dark soon in the next hour” Arac went into the back, grabbing the fire starter. He lit the candle, letting the candle light the others as he walked around the fairly large tavern. Could fit a village and a half. “Take a break after you’re done. Will need you full of energy for when the rush hits. Can have a piece of bread from the back if you get a touch of hunger, but don’t you touch my stew.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not much of a food guy.” Arac said tiredly, heading into the backroom to sit and rest his legs. He grabbed his loaf of bread, but closed his eyes and wandered into a half dreamstate before he could put it into his mouth.

He awoke to a thunderous clunking of feet, the door to the tavern slamming shut. “Damnit! Curse you little ones. Can’t be independent to save your god damned lives. Always having to steal and rob us workers.” Arac was spurred into the main bit of the tavern, and witnessed the big man holding the girl who wasn’t quite a lady yet, alike to Arac who wasn’t quite a man yet.

“Let me go!” The girl shot punches through the air though they all seemed to miss. “We know you’re price gouging. You’ve got more than enough.” 

The big man spoke menacingly, “put the bread down, or I’ll squeeze your throat until you vomit up blood.”

The girl held on until his grip was too tight and she started to go pink then blue, dropping the bread. She was dropped to the ground on her knees, a small thud. “You’re a real b*****d. Both of ya’s.”

Arac looked inquisitively toward her and looked down at the piece of bread in his hand. She ran across the wooden floors in her bare feet. She busted open the door, running toward the forest next to Bhodin. People didn’t go into that forest anymore, as if all the life was sucked from it or something.

Arac glanced through the window watching her disappear into the darkness of the forest. She ran with an orange hue to her, a beautiful sunset shining through her dirty blond hair, she ran with her dirty dress up above her shins so she wouldn’t trip.

Arac took off his apron, “What’re you doing?” The big man asked, “We’ve got a rush here in a little bit here. You’ll have enough for your next couple of meals when I get you your money.” He washed his hands on an apron. “Job won’t be here for you if you come back.”

“You haven’t held up on nearly as many promises as you have made over the last couple of years.” He threw his apron to the ground, bread in hand. He was gonna look for the girl in the woods.

Author's Note

I'm dipping my toes into short stories, trying to gauge my audience here.

This is not in it's final form yet, but I wanted to put it out there to catch a feeling for if there is interest in this sort of thing. So, not polished very well, but just gauging interest.
Is this something people would be interested in more of?

Ideas? Thoughts? Feelings? Praises or Critiques.