Chapter Four

 

 

            I wandered for months after that. With no direction in mind and no purpose for anything I did, I simply wandered. I did not really know where I was and it did not matter. There were farms though, never ending farms. People and houses seemed few and far between.

            Emotions and feelings were too painful. I felt I had trouble even functioning with all the thoughts that swarmed in my head, threatening to be my complete demise. And so I became numb. I carefully locked all feeling, all emotion away and knew that this was easier. If I could not feel I could not hurt. I could not afford to let the thoughts escape.

            As I wandered I had few needs but I simply took what I needed. When my cloths became ragged I stole what I wanted. When my shoes had been worn clean through, and this happened often, I took new ones as well. I had brought my small stash of money but it was not going to last long so I had to preserve it. Surprising I did not even feel that guilty about the theft. Perhaps that was all part of my numbing process.

            I could tell that I had been pushing away my conscious. That little voice in the back of your head that told one what wrong from right was becoming quieter and quieter. I was already sentenced to live in my own hell, why not fully earn my sentence here for the things I had done to my family.

            As the days melted into weeks, the weeks into months I noticed something very strange. I felt the same every day. Every bit as whole and complete as I did the day before. I could feel time passing but it seemed to have no effect on me. It passed and flowed around me. I saw the subtle evidence in the land that surrounded me. But it never seemed to touch me. I seemed to remain somehow invisible to it.

            I also discovered something new about myself. There was a hole inside of me. No, nothing physical, nothing you could put your hand in and determine that there was indeed a hole there. No, it was just the feeling that there was something missing within me, something that would help define who I was. I felt somehow incomplete and had no idea how to fix it. Everything about me was just simply wrong.

            I found my way to a dirt road, three months, twelve days since I had left home. My surroundings here seemed the same as everywhere I had been. I had come to a fairly narrow valley. There was the dirt road that stretched down the middle of it and farms fell on either side of the road. To my left ran a wooden fence, housing several horses. I had passed the house belonging to this farm some time back as I walked slowly on. 

            The sun was just starting to set on this simple farm when I noticed I was not alone on this stretch of road. There was someone just ahead of me, three hundred seventy-five feet. The figure glanced back at me once and suddenly veered off to the side of the road.

            Curious at this reaction I sped slightly to see if something was wrong. Nearing the figure I realized it was a young boy. He was no older than twelve and rather plain looking. I recognized another farm boy when I saw one. He was dressed simply and his clothes looked like they had been handed down to him from a few older brothers. He was slightly dirty like he had not taken a bath all week and his hair was ruffled. 

            As I came closer to the boy I tried to catch his attention with my eyes. He however immediately looked away and sat on the ground next to the fence. He tucked his knees under his chin, his arms wrapping around his knees as well. 

            “Are you alright?” I asked him as I stopped ten feet away.

            He did not answer me as he stared at the ground. I could see frustration and anger in his face. 

            “Is everything ok?” I asked again.

            “He’s drunk again,” the boy said simply, though he still did not look up from the ground.

            “Who?” I pressed. Something within me sensed there was a lot behind the boy’s angry look.

            “Father,” he spat.

            “Is that why you are out here?”

            “Thomas and Jonas told me to leave before he started hitting again,” he continued. “I hate him.”

            I was not sure what to say to that. I could not blame him for hating a father who drank himself silly and got violent because of it.

            “Thomas isn’t much better,” he huffed. “He’s been drinking too. Father and mother don’t know but I saw him in the barn. He got real mad. Yelled at me to get out. I’m startin’ to hate him too.”

            “Maybe you should tell him that,” I replied as I sat on the ground next to him. The boy finally glanced up at me for just a moment. “Maybe he’d stop if you told him you didn’t want him to end up like your father.”

            “I don’t think so,” he said as he shook his head. “Every grown man I know drinks. They’re all the same. The drink all night till they get mad. That’s when the hitting starts. Mr. Smith hit his wife so hard last week it knocked some of her teeth clean outa’ her head!”

            A child this young shouldn’t be so aware of the faults of men and the violence that went on. A part of me mourned for this child who was quickly losing his childhood. I wanted to help him but what was I to do? Men don’t change. If his father was a known drinker he wasn’t likely to change. I feared that sometime this boy might get caught in the violence but what was I going to do about it? I couldn’t exactly take him away from his family; he certainly couldn’t come with me. I didn’t even know where I was going.

            “Sometimes I wish I could just run away from here. Run so fast they could never catch me. I tried a while ago but they caught up to me too fast. Or I wish I was strong so they couldn’t make me come back.”

            “Well, having extraordinary abilities isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” I mused aloud. 

            The boy gave me a strange look like he was wondering if everything was alright in my head. I just shook it and stood up. I extended a hand to him. He looked hesitant at first but accepted it and I pulled him carefully to his feet. As I did so I noticed his boots were tied to his feet with lengths of thin rope. Handed down shoes did not last long.

            “Hang on,” I said as I pulled the bag on my back off. Searching it’s depths I pulled a few things out. “Here,” I said as I handed the things to him.

            The boys eyes got wide as he examined what I had just give him. The first was a wool shirt. It would be too big for him but it would keep him warm all winter. The second was a pair of boots. They would be far too big for him and might not actually fit for several years but they were his. He wouldn’t have to share them.

            “Thank you!” the excitement evident in his voice. 

            “Your welcome,” I said with half a smile. “Keep your chin up, kid. Life can bring unexpected changes. I hope you can find some good to come.”

            The boy nodded and as he stared at the things I had given him, he started walking back towards his house.

            The things I had given him had been stolen. I knew that was wrong but I felt slightly better about it knowing I had given them to a child who truly needed them. It was most likely he had never owned a new anything in his entire life.

            Feeling slightly less heavy hearted I turned back to the dusty road and continued my journey into the unknown.

            Eventually I ended up in England, London to be exact.

            The streets were lined with shops, houses, crowded with people, animals, and everything in between. It reminded me of a much bigger scale version of home save the filth. I had always heard about London, heard of the glamour and grandeur of the place. The royal family lived here, King James II. My expectations were sorely disappointed. London was nothing like the pearly beautiful city I had pictured. I found myself disgusted by the things that were thrown into the streets. The place reeked of human and animal waste alike. 

            There was something appealing about the city however. There was noise here. Glorious noise. I found that if I concentrated hard enough on the noise that it would nearly drown out the painful voices I constantly heard in my head. I did not have to work so hard to keep my mind numb. I could simply let the thoughts drown in beautiful noise. Daytime was wonderful, the streets were filled with the sound of shouting women and children, men arguing over nothing, the sounds of dogs barking, and wagon wheels on cobblestone.

            I wandered the streets of the heart of London, simply listening. I heard every conversation that was going on for a large area and somehow managed to make sense of it all. I learned much of the people there. There was the man whose business was failing and I heard him mutter threats to end his life under his breath. There were the teenage girls who whispered to each other the names of the boys they most admired. There was the new mother who worried about her ability to care for her newborn son. By simply listening to them I felt as if I had known them for years.

            Nights were absolute torture though. When everyone retired to their beds I was alone, the victim of eternal sleeplessness, left to my thoughts and self induced nightmares till I either could numb my thoughts once again or morning came again with it’s beautiful noise.

            After spending a few weeks here I finally decided to stay. I could face the few hours of silence for the effects of the day. Even if I could only stay for a short while I would take any brake I could.

            I quickly found a place to stay, located as close to the center of town as possible. It was located above the shoemakers shop, a banker, and a lawyer, spanned across all of them. It was far larger than I needed but it was in rough condition, smelled slightly off and it was inexpensive. I figured I would be able to afford it for about three months.

            I had taken the place to stay with some hesitancy. I did not really need the comforts of home necessarily. I did not need a place to sleep nor a place to cook and eat. But it was comforting to know I had a place to go at night when everyone went home. Even if I could not call this place home, at least it was home base. It was better than wandering the streets at night.

            It did not take me long to discover that one could find life at night if one knew where to look. There were two bars not too far away, teaming with life in the darkness. If not for the knowledge that they would never be able to hurt me I might be slightly frightened of the men who lurked in the dark corners of the tavern. Alcohol seemed to make men violent and stupid.

            The bar that was closest to my flat was set in an especially dirty, low part of town. It had a low roof and when you looked at it from the outside the left side was obviously higher than the right. The insides were never well lit, the only light coming from three candles at the bar and a few candles that were scattered on the round wooden tables around the room. It was filthy, smelled of stale whiskey and sweat, but there was noise here.

            I never drank the ale and whiskey that these men guzzled down of course. I simply did not want to be alone, no matter how low the company. I sat in my corner silently, simply watching. I knew they must be curious about the new comer that never spoke but none of them ever approached me, never spoke to me or asked questions. This seemed strange to me, surely I was not that intimidating looking.

            You could learn a lot about a man who drank. Lips became very loose when the whiskey set in. There were five regulars who came almost every night.

            Frank had once been a business man. He worked in the trade industry and had been quite successful. He had a wife and two children and he had thought they were all very happy. One day he came home to find his wife in bed with his business partner. That was the end of his happy and successful life. 

            Gavin was far too young to be coming to the bar every night, or ever. He could not be more than sixteen and yet he was already wasting his life away. He was quiet, even when drunk, so I did not gather much information about his life.

            Edward was a loner. He had no family and no friends. I’d heard something had happened up north and he was forced to leave. The story was never fully told and I didn’t exactly want to get the whole story. Edward got really mean when he was drunk. Luke often times had to force him to leave.

            Anthony and Richard were brothers. They were both fairly nice guys and I could never guess the reason for their incessant drinking. They owned the shoe repair shop down the street and made a decent living. As the alcohol set into their systems they expressed it with their voices. They would clamber onto one of the round wooden tables and sing the night away, albeit, not well. 

            I had been watching two men arguing over who could beat the other in an arm wrestle. I had never seen them before but it seemed they had come in with Edward. As voices grew louder and louder I could tell that the alcohol was starting to set in, even with how early in the night it was.

            “I am willing to bet everything in my pocket you will not win!” the larger of the two bellowed, his voice becoming slurred. There was no denying it, he was an ugly man. His hair was matted and oily, surely he had not bathed his entire life. I could smell him from across the room. Large warts dotted his balding head and forehead and his nose seemed to have ballooned on his face, it too was speckled with the disgusting growths.

            “Let’s have a go then,” the shorter but stockier shouted, “and get this over with!” This man was not much easier on the eyes. His hair was sparse, laying limp around his face, making him look older than he probably was. His eyes were too close together, making him look cross-eyed.

            Two chairs were knocked over as they pushed away from the bar and sauntered over to the table a few feet away from me. They each took a seat across from the other. The other five men in the bar, including the bartender crowded around the table, laughing and elbowing each other in the ribs. Elbows resting on the table, they locked grasps.

            The start was called and you could see the exertion on the smaller man’s face. Each of their knuckles turned white with the force. All the while watching them, small calculations ran through my mind, determining what the best way to win was.

            It really wasn’t much of a challenge. The larger man won easily, the smaller one shouting that the other had cheated. But after a few shoves from the larger man he paid up.

            “No man has ever beaten me!” he bellowed and laughed obnoxiously.

            “That would have been nice to know before,” the smaller one hissed. “Before I lost my weeks salary.”

            Something sparked in me. I did not talk to people here, I tried to avoid direct contact and conversation but I was growing tired of sitting in the shadows. I needed some entertainment.

            “I could beat you,” I called.

            They both froze as they looked over at me. I knew that they had seen me here often but as I never spoke they had pretended to ignore my presence.

            “I could beat you,” I repeated as I stood and walked over to the table.

            Finally coming unfrozen, the large man laughed loudly. “I would break you in half boy!”

            I could see why he would say this. The man must have been several inches taller than I and must have outweighed me by nearly a hundred pounds. Yet there was no question in my mind.

            “I will bet you everything you have on you right now that I could beat you,” I said, my voice quiet, calm and confident. I pulled out the contents of my pocket and flashed it at him. It wasn’t much but it was everything I had.

            His face became suddenly serious and I could see irritation in his eyes. He nodded once before he sat back down at the table and held his arm ready.

            With a slight smirk on my face I sat across from him. I knew I would have to be careful to not completely break the table, or his arm.

            His face remained comically serious as we locked hands, his previous confidence seemingly diminished. Once again everyone gathered around the table and I noticed the other men placing bets. The smaller man who had just been beaten counted for us and shouted for us to begin.

            Our hands remained seeming motionless as I prolonged my win. It was obvious the other man was exuding all of his force, his face contorted with the strain, making his face somehow all the more ugly. I wanted to laugh out loud. It felt like nothing to me as he pushed against my arm. After a few seconds I decided to end this and his hand slammed to the table. I was quite proud of myself for having the control not to break him. Several shouts went up as my victory was declared. Some out of shock, some out of anger.

            Shock was obvious on his face as he rubbed his wrist. “You cheat,” he huffed, his eyes boring into me.

            “Would you like to go again?” I asked calmly while I was breaking into hysterical laughter internally.

            He nodded. The scene was quickly repeated.

            It was easy to tell the man was furious but he threw the money to the table. He shoved two men to the ground as he made his way back to the bar and took a long swig out of a mug and did not seem to care who‘s it was. Tension grew heavy in the air and I sensed now would be a good time to leave.

            “Gentlemen, I think it is time for me to retire for the night,” I said as I stood, stuffing my winnings into a pocket. I could feel multiple sets of eyes burning into my back as I quickly left.

            I was not sure if I should return the next night. While I by no means was in fear for myself, I certainly did not want to stir up any trouble nor did I want to draw too much attention to myself. But this silence was so unbearable…

            I walked into the bar a bit later than usual and was for some reason surprised at the scene before me. Even though I had not made any noise when I entered, every face turned to look at mine and the room grew quiet for a moment. There were more people in here than normal. Most nights there were seven or eight of us here. Tonight there was fourteen.

            They seemed to have been waiting for me. They looked at me expectantly, their eyes bright with some kind of anticipation. At the center of them all was the man I had beaten last night. If it were possible he had gotten even uglier. He was the first one to speak.

            “My friend here would like to challenge you,” he said with a dark smirk on his face.

            I glanced at the man he indicated. His “friend” was huge. I had heard tales of gorillas from travelers and this came to mind as I looked at him. His arms were huge and covered with thick, dark hair. His torso reminded me of a work horse. His eyes were dark and hidden behind heavy brows, giving him a dim look. His nose hooked downward, his lips in a tight, serious line.

            I nodded my head in agreement. “How much did you bring?” I asked as I sat at an empty table.

            “Enough,” he said, following me. He threw some money down on the table. It was not a fortune by any means but enough to keep an average man going for at least a month. I guessed it was indeed his living for this month. He was confident in his ability to win.

            I nodded again. The man sat with a huff and everyone in the bar quickly gathered around us. There were excited whispers and they again made wages on the outcome. Most of them were going to lose a lot of money in just a moment.

            We locked hands, elbows to the table. I looked up into the gorilla’s eyes and gave half a smile. He had something coming to him. “I’m going to enjoy this,” I whispered so only he could hear. His eyes burned and a deep furrow sprouted between his eyes.

            Someone gave the countdown and I had his hand pressed to the table in a fraction of a second. The table shook and groaned under the force and I was glad I had not broken it.

            “I wasn’t ready!” the gorilla bellowed as he slammed a fist to the table. “Again!”

            I had learned a lesson yesterday. I shook my head and smiled. “I will go again but you’d better be willing to put down more.”

            The man was hesitant for a moment. “Forget it,” he said as he shook his head and walked back to the bar. The crowd disbursed after a lot of talking, the room a buzz of whispers and laughter. I had to chuckle at the things I overheard. The things they considered I might be. Some said maybe an angel, my strength could only be from God, others a demon, with powers from the devil himself. While I knew I was neither of those things I felt I must be closer to the latter.

            This continued night after night. I would return to the bar and meet my contender for the day. They were all of varied sizes and strengths but one thing was always the same. All lost. It was the same story every night. I was becoming quite a wealthy man.

            I was preparing to leave one night and had just won my largest amount yet when the bartender, Luke, sauntered over to me. He was not a large man and his age was starting to show in the way he walked. His hair was speckled pepper and salt and cut close to his scalp. His eyes were a strange shade of grey and reminded me of a cloudy winter day. He had the looks of a man who had a story behind him but I had never gone out of my way to learn it.  

            He looked around as if to make sure we were not being watched and sat down next to me. He looked around once again before looking me in the eye.

            “I have a proposal for you, a business proposition if you will,” he said in a hushed tone.

            I had become friends with Luke over these past few weeks. I brought a whole new crowd into his bar and greatly increased his business. He never asked questions and never made a fuss over my never actually drinking. “I’m listening.”

            “There is a certain group of fellows, we shall say, that meet once a week for a special event. I think a man of your talent could do quite well and would give you a chance to really make some money. Are you interested?”

            That faint echo in the back of my mind tried to tell me there was something amiss about what Luke was proposing and my conscious self considered this for a moment. Surely whatever he was talking of was not legal and would certainly be dangerous, well to the other people participating anyways. But I was actually getting tired of how little of a challenge was being presented to me as of late. It was time to move onto something bigger and more advanced.

            “Where?” I asked simply.

            A wicked smile spread on Luke’s lips. “Meet me tomorrow at closing time behind the building.  I’ll explain everything then.”

            I nodded and quickly left the bar. I had been leaving earlier and earlier, braving the silence. The men tended to get angry at losing money as the alcohol coursed through their systems. I wasn’t looking to start a fight with any of them.

            The streets were quiet and calm as I slowly walked back to home base. It would be three hours and twelve minutes till the sun would come up and people would start filling these streets.

            “May I walk with you?” I had heard the footsteps somewhere off in the distance but had not realized how close they were. I looked to my left and found a woman emerging from an alley way. She was very beautiful, her hair dark and wavy, her eyes a piercing green that shone through the night. She was very slender, perhaps too much so. Yes, she was beautiful but bore the countenance of a woman who had lived a hard and perhaps unpleasant life. She gave a sweet smile and approached.

            “May I walk with you?” she repeated as she came to my side.

            “If you wish,” I relied, feeling hesitant.

            She again flashed that ensnaring smile and walked by my side. “My name is Mia.”

            Mia, the name was strange to my thoughts. I had never heard it before. “William,” I said simply.

            “And what are you doing out on the streets so late at night, William?” she questioned, her eyes never leaving my face.

            “Can’t sleep,” I said as I glanced down at her. She had certain intensions in mind, that much was obvious. “I could ask the same of you.”

            “I can’t sleep either,” she said as she slid her tiny hand into mine.

            A part of me was shouting at me, telling me to turn my back and leave. I knew exactly what this woman was and what it was she wanted. But another part of me could not help but smile upon her feminine beauty. To hold a woman again, to touch and be touched. I had never been with a woman but I still had masculine desires.

            “Walk with me.” The words had slipped out of my mouth before I actually made any conscious decisions.

            The mind is strong but the flesh is week sometimes. Before I even fully realized what I was doing we were back at home base, the door locked, and a candle lit for faint light. I sat next to her on the new bed I had just bought, and never used, and felt my heart start pounding in my chest. “I swear I have never done something like this before,” I muttered stupidly.

            “Of course you haven’t my dear,” she said with that smile again as she closed the gap between us and pressed her lips to mine. I immediately tensed up, my body becoming ridged, my muscles ready to react at any moment, to what, I wasn’t sure. Of course this woman was not an actual threat.

            Her lips moved smoothly and in practiced movements across my cheek and down to my neck. She placed a hand on the center of my chest and gently pushed and I did not resist as I landed softly on my back and she came with me.

            She worked methodically, her lips and hands tracing patters over my upper body and face. This should have been pleasurable, that is what she was, a woman of pleasure. But this was wrong. This wasn’t me. Whatever me was.

            “Stop, stop,” I said as I sat up, gently pushing her off of me. “Stop.”

            Her face looked confused at first then quickly changed to dejected. “Did I do something you did not like?”

            “No,” I said as I stood and started pacing the floor at a speed that was probably slightly too fast. “I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

            I looked back over at her as she slowly stood, her eyes never leaving my face. Her expression changed again, this time to anger. “Why did you bring me up here and waste my time then?”

            Something clicked in my head and I understood her anger. “Oh, sorry,” I said as I turned to the desk and opened one of the drawers. “Here, take it.” I crossed the room to her and handed her what was probably twice her normal rate. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this. It’s just not right.”

            She again looked confused but no longer angry. Without saying anything else she turned to the door and left.

            Once the door shut I collapsed back onto the bed with a frustrated groan. What had I been thinking? I had nearly gone to bed with a prostitute! Who was I anymore?!

            A sudden feeling of guilt washed over me. What would Elizabeth think? How could I betray her so horribly?

            I shook my head as I sat back up. That was ridiculous. Elizabeth could care less what I did anymore. How could I betray a woman who was not mine any longer? She was another man’s now.

            As the sun rose and the day began I simply lay on my bed trying to block out what I had almost done. I felt dirty and tainted. I tried to concentrate on the conversations being made below me. It seemed to help block out the images of just a few hours previous.

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I found this little thing. "That little voice in the back of your head that tells one..." I would try to avoid saying "your" because it assumes the identity of the reader. I think "my head" or "one's head" might have been better word choices. Your story is interesting though and well written. And as I said, its just a small thing.