Blue Valley Underground - Part 10 - Skinny
Jumpin' off trains and jumpin' on homeless. Isaac sure is a nice guy.
Blue Valley Underground - Part 10 - Skinny
Isaac caught a few short naps over the next couple hours. When he was awake, he spoke to Clara and gagged over his paper sack.
"I think we're almost to Greenhearst." said Clara, rubbing Isaac's back while he dry-heaved. There was nothing in his stomach to lose, but that didn't stop his traitorous body from trying. The girl leaned over him and looked out the window, squinting at the settlement in the distance. Unlike Newell's tall, compact buildings, it was shorter and sprawled out. Free to grow with no ominous walls trapping it in.
Clara turned back to Isaac and asked,
"I'll be leaving in a few minutes. Are you gonna be okay?"
Taking a deep breath, the soldier sat up and glanced at her two stalkers,
"I'll be fine. Will you?"
"Yeah," Clara replied quietly, "I'll find a lawman if they pull any weird shit."
The train slowed to a stop at the Greenhearst station. Most of the passengers rose and began to leave. Isaac watched the two men carefully. They were still sitting. Clara stood up and playfully rustled Isaac's hair,
"Thanks, Soldier."
"Be careful," Isaac smoothed down his hair and waved as she disembarked, "Good luck!"
He watched from the window as the girl disappeared in the shifting crowd. When she was out of sight, he settled back in his seat as new passengers boarded. The doorman closed the doors and announced,
"Next stop: Rivermere!"
A wave of giddiness washed over Isaac. He'd never been relieved and terrified at the same time until now. Evan was going to boot his ass right out of the barracks. Evan was going to welcome him back with open arms. Evan was going to spend a lot of time telling Isaac what a failure he was either way, and now was a good time to brace for impact. He had no plan, no speech prepared or any good excuses. He'd have to tell the truth, just like he told Clara. He'd have to--
The stalkers were gone.
Isaac jolted upright, staggering as the train began to move. Grabbing his knapsack, he rushed to the door. The skinny doorman threw a hand in front of him,
"Sir!" he said sternly, "Please sit down while the train is in motion."
"I need out! Please!" Isaac begged. The doorman's dull expression remained as he explained,
"We are already leaving, Sir. You'll have to wait for the next stop."
"But--" Isaac reached for his military ID necklace, growling in frustration when he realized it was still gone. It would probably give him some good leverage in authority right about now.
The train was picking up speed, almost outside the boundaries of Greenhearst.
"I really need out, right now!" Isaac's voice was grave and frantic, "Just open the door and I'll jump!"
Finally the doorman's face changed. He looked at Isaac like he'd just spoken gibberish,
"Absolutely not! Now sit down before I call security!"
Isaac stared the doorman down for a moment, his eyes darting between him and the door.
"Don't even think about it..." The doorman furrowed his brow and blocked the doorway, "Security!"
He barely finished his call before Isaac grabbed him by his blue suit and tossed him to the side. Isaac missed his chance to save Eileen. He missed his chance to save Harvey. He would not miss another.
Wrenching the door open, the soldier stood in the frame for a few seconds, watching the ground zip by. So the train was going a bit faster than he thought...The other passengers muttered and watched him intently. The doorman scrambled to his feet. Isaac glanced back and saw him coming, then made a leap of faith a second before he was grabbed. He heard a collective gasp from the other passengers, then nothing but "Thump! Thump! Thump!" as he rolled across the dry grass.
For what seemed like eternity, the world was a spinning blur. Isaac was regretting that jump with each violent, involuntary spin until he finally slowed to a stop. Lying on his back, he could hardly make sense of the sky, clear and orange as the sun began to set. His heart was pounding, his head was in a muddle and everything hurt. Some time passed--he wasn't sure if it was seconds or minutes--until someone walked into his view.
"My God, are you alright?" asked the stranger. He was an older man with a scraggly beard and shabby clothes. His long white hair was pulled into an unkempt ponytail. He looked down at Isaac with genuine worry in his haggard face. The soldier blinked and bent his trembling arms, pushing himself into a sitting position. Every inch of him was sore, but nothing felt broken.
"I think so." He replied. The old man offered a hand and Isaac took it, pulling the boy to his feet.
"You dropped somethin' back there." The stranger pointed a crooked finger behind them. Isaac turned and saw his knapsack lying several feet away.
"Oh, thanks!" The soldier rushed to the scene, realizing he would have forgotten it otherwise. He stumbled with residual vertigo and picked up his bag. To his surprise, it didn't open through the whole ordeal.
"You gotta tuck next time, Boy!" the old man advised, limping up behind him, "Tuck and roll! You're lucky you didn't lose your head!"
Isaac slung his knapsack over his shoulder,
"I'll keep that in mind." He shook off the last of the dizziness and began running towards the intercity, "I really gotta go. Thanks for the help!"
The old man stood in the grassy outskirts and waved.
Greenhearst's main street was a wide path of packed dirt. Old buildings of wood and stone were lined up and packed tightly together on either side. It was a smaller city with an open view of the towering forests around it. Isaac hurried down this main road and kept an eye out for Clara's pink sundress. The people here dressed more like folks in Rivermere, placing practicality over form. Isaac realized his fancy new clothes were rumpled and smeared with grass stains. He saw a man walk by, covered in dry mud from the knees down, and suddenly he didn't feel so out of place.
A line of giggling drunk women stumbled out of a tavern and bumped into Isaac.
"Sorry!" he threw up his hands and apologized. They ignored him and went on their way to the tavern across the street. He heard a clip-clopping from behind. When he turned, he saw a peach-colored stallion. But in place of a head and neck sprouted the top half of a human with long blonde hair, blindfolded with his arms bound behind his back. Isaac's jaw dropped and he stumbled to the side of the street. He'd only seen centaurs in picture books before now. This one was being led on a rope by two fellow soldiers. Isaac saluted out of habit and one nodded at him.
Staring for a long moment, Isaac remembered his objective and continued on his way. He peeked into the windows of every building he passed in search for the girl, and with each one, he felt more and more ridiculous. That familiar feeling was creeping up on him--that feeling like he'd just done something incredibly stupid, and the actual magnitude of the stupidity was beginning to dawn on him. He knew it was coming and tried to fight it off, convincing himself that he was doing the right thing.
Jumping off a moving train in an unfamiliar town, one stop before home with no money, chasing after a girl he barely knew and would likely never find probably wasn't the best idea. Isaac was realizing that now as he stopped on the street and dragged a palm over his face. The shame washed over him like a monsoon. Clara didn't need him; there were soldiers and lawmen everywhere in this town. Most of them were concentrated around the tavern and brothel, but...
"Ya got a coin?"
Isaac snapped out of his self-loathing and noticed the scraggly, skinny man before him. His skin was yellow with jaundice, covered only by a pair of crude pants and foot-wraps. Isaac shook his head and walked away aimlessly,
"Sorry."
"I know ya do!" The man hobbled after him and tugged on his sleeve,
"Clothes like this ain't cheap, are they?"
"Leave me alone. Please." Isaac jerked his arm away, turning in another direction. He barely made three steps before the man grabbed him again.
"Just one coin!" the stranger begged. His bloodshot eyes were pleading, his lips sunken in place of several missing teeth,
"I had nice things once, just like you! I did! But I was robbed!"
"I don't have anything," Isaac furrowed his brow and pushed the man's calloused hand off his sleeve,
"Go away!"
Ever persistent, the stranger followed him as he walked briskly down the road. Isaac felt his presence behind him and was becoming visibly irritated. There were some silver pieces left in his pocket, though hardly enough for a sandwich--much less a train ticket.
The soldier threw a glance behind him and no longer saw the man. He stopped in front of yet another tavern--the third he'd seen on Main Street alone--and leaned against the building in thought. Getting train fare was his next goal, then he'd finally be home. No more distractions, no more bullshit. He was creating obstacles for himself just like always, with his poor judgment and impulsive urges. Evan was right; this behavior was dangerous and it needed to stop.
Isaac sighed and tilted his head up towards the darkening sky. He'd have to catch the train tomorrow. Looks like inn money was his next goal instead.
"God damn it, I just want to go home!" he thought, and raked a hand over his head with frustration. When he looked down, he saw a familiar face crouching beside him. A jaundiced hand was half-way in his pocket.
"Hey!" Isaac barked and the scraggly man skittered away like a cockroach. Bounding forward, Isaac caught him by his thinning hair and tackled him to the ground.
Crunch!
"Aiyeee!" the vagrant shrieked like a banshee, Isaac pinning him on his stomach with one knee digging into his back. One scrawny arm was bent awkwardly to the side and already beginning to swell.
"You fuckin' thief!" Isaac growled in the whimpering man's ear, one hand tangled in his hair with the other pinning his injured arm. A mumbling crowd was gathering cautiously.
"I'm sorry!" The man wailed.
"I told you to stay the hell away from me!"
"I-I think my arm is broken!"
"Good! One less hand to steal with!" Isaac snarled and wrenched his victim's arm again.
The sheer agony in the vagrant's scream wiped the red glare from Isaac's vision. The soldier's expression softened, all his rage and frustration deflating with it.
"Don't kill me! Please!" sobbed the man, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm very sorry!"
Isaac slowly got to his feet, eyes wide at what he'd done. Curling into a ball, the vagrant cradled his swollen arm, tears and mucus running down his face as he rambled apologies.
"Is there a problem here?"
Isaac turned, face-to-face with a fellow soldier. He wore a shield-shaped marshal's emblem on his chestplate. Two younger soldiers flanked him, likely apprentices. Before Isaac could answer, a woman in the crowd of gawkers hollered,
"Skinny was stealin' again!"
Some others in the crowd made noises of agreement. The marshal looked at the man writhing on the ground, then to Isaac,
"Did this man steal from you?"
Isaac hesitated for a long moment.
"Sir?" the marshal pressed. Finally Isaac answered,
"Well, he...Yeah, he tried. I...I think I broke his arm."
"Hm," Sounding disinterested, the marshal pointed to the vagrant and told his apprentices, "Put him in the stocks overnight."
The young soldiers nodded and began to drag the man away, who frantically wailed as they jostled his arms. Isaac stood there, still in awe of his own actions. Had a demon possessed him? How could he have done such a thing? He watched for a while as the man was dragged away and the crowd began to disperse.
"Wait!" Isaac ran after them. The soldiers stopped, waiting while he shrugged off his black jacket and draped it over the vagrant's shoulders.
"I'm so sorry." Isaac apologized. Quaking in pain, the man told him,
"I'm just tryin' to survive! Y-Ya didn't have ta do this to me!" he gestured to his injured arm, which had almost doubled in size. Isaac stood there, dumbfounded with nothing else to say. The marshal said,
"Don't give him your sympathy, Son. Skinny causes his own problems."
They continued on their way, dragging the man off to the stocks.
The sun was reduced to a distant glow over the horizon. Isaac wandered Greenhearst for quite some time, trying to find a safe place to sleep. He asked several shop owners for work and no one would take him. They also wouldn't let him use the bathrooms unless he bought something. He tried to stay away from the taverns, but it was a desperate situation at this point.
Entering one of the seven taverns he'd seen in Greenhearst so far, Isaac refused eye contact with the bartender and rushed to the restrooms. Last time he promised himself he wouldn't drink, it didn't go so well. The faster he got out of here, the better. There was one other man in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth out in the sink. Isaac passed the first stall and recoiled--vomit was splattered on everything from the toilet to the walls. The next two weren't exactly clean either. The fourth was the lesser of all evils, and Isaac closed himself in.
He listened as the man finished rinsing his mouth, then the swinging door creaked. There was graffiti carved into the wooden stall dividers. Isaac couldn't read it, but he did spend some time giggling at the lewd pictures even after he hiked up his pants. It made him pine to be back at the barracks even more.
The swinging door creaked open again. Isaac heard more than one pair of feet shuffle in and a man said,
"Is this enough?"
A female voice replied,
"Don't be cheap!"
"Okay, okay..."
There were some clinking and rustling sounds, followed by more awkward sounds. Isaac winced at the man's groaning and wondered if he should stay or bolt. Walking passed whatever was happening out there would be embarrassing. Staying for the duration of it would be even worse, he decided, and cautiously opened the stall.
Isaac planned to rush out, but stopped in his tracks. A short man with curly hair was leaning against a sink, grasping a head bobbing between his legs. That head had dark hair in a messy, doubled-up ponytail.
"Clara?!" Isaac blurted. The young woman flinched and quickly withdrew from the man. Her narrow eyes widened at Isaac, looking somewhere between irritated and guilty. The short man quickly yanked up his pants and buttoned them as he pushed his way out the door,
"Look, Man, she didn't tell me about a boyfriend or anything, okay?" and in an instant, he was gone.
Isaac stood speechless while Clara slung her oversized bag over her shoulder, got to her feet and calmly began rinsing her mouth in the sink.
"Clara, what--" he began, and she held a silencing palm to his face. She spit a mouthful of water, then left the bathroom without a word. Isaac clumsily trailed her, shoving his way passed the seedy people loitering in the hall.
"Wait!" he finally caught up to her and dropped a hand on her shoulder. Clara whirled around and jerked out from under his grip,
"What the hell are you doing here?" There was a quiet viciousness in her voice.
"I was looking all over for you!" he replied, glancing back at the bathroom, "What are you...I mean..."
"Yes, I'm a whore. Dick is my bread 'n butter." She rolled her eyes and began walking away, "Take your judgments somewhere else."
"No, no! Please," Isaac rushed in front of her, stopping her again, "I'm not judging you, I just...Those men in the wraps--I saw them leave after you."
The girl's eyes rounded,
"What? Ugh, shit..." she raked a hand over her forehead, "I haven't seen them all day, I thought they..." trailing off, she turned to him and furrowed her brow,
"So why are you here? Didn't you have to go home? You're stalking me too, aren't you?!"
Isaac quickly shook his head,
"No! I saw those guys go after you and I thought..." he fumbled for words, feeling more foolish by the second,
"I was just worried they'd hurt you."
For a long moment, Clara stared at him. Her suspicious gaze made him feel vulnerable, even as she stood a foot shorter than him.
"Why are you really here?" she queried, "If you wanna fuck me, just ask. You don't have to play this bullshit chivalrous knight game or anything." She wiggled her fingers in the air at 'chivalrous knight', making feel even dumber.
"That's not what I want," he replied earnestly, "Yeah, thinking back on it, it was...Pretty dumb to follow you. I can't even afford a ticket home." He scoffed at himself and shook his head,
"But I'm glad you're okay. Do you have anywhere to stay, I mean...?"
Clara shrugged,
"I got paid today. I'll stay at an inn, I'll be fine."
"What about those guys?"
The girl blanched and paused for a moment. Then she said nonchalantly,
"They ain't shit."
Isaac sighed,
"Alright. This was stupid of me...Sorry for bothering you. Good luck, Clara." He forced a grin, then turned and made his way out of the bar. The air outside was humid and somewhat warm despite the late hour. Apparently he really was close to Rivermere. Wandering down one of the obscure side streets of Greenhearst, Isaac continued his search for a safe place to sleep. Just a nook where he wouldn't be found, and he could figure it out from there. He was too close to home to give up now, though the thought of simply abandoning the military had crossed his mind more than once. Evan would never let him back after all this time, and his wrath was something he'd been dreading above all else, just the knowledge that he'd been kicked out of the military was worse than never knowing. He'd be homeless either way, another yellowed vagrant like Skinny. Doomed to be a lost body.
"Hey! Soldier Boy!" a voice called in the distance. Isaac whirled around and saw Clara laboriously jogging after him, waving her arms. He backtracked and met her half-way on the street. She coughed harshly and patted her chest.
"Where are you staying tonight?" she wheezed. He ignored the question and tilted an eyebrow,
"Are you okay?"
She simply nodded,
"You said you couldn't afford a ticket home...?"
"Oh, uh...Yeah." Isaac swiped the back of his neck, "That's my fault. I'll figure it out."
"Bullshit. I'm getting an inn tonight, we can share it."
"Clara, no. It's okay."
"Well what else are you gonna do? Sleep outside?"
"Thinking about it," Isaac shrugged, "I'm a soldier--I've done it before."
"Come on, just for tonight."
Isaac chewed his lip. It would be the smart thing to do, but...
"I'm not letting a woman buy me a room."
Clara narrowed her eyes and gave him a shove,
"And I'm not letting you get robbed by vagrants, you asshole! Just come with me!"
Isaac flinched. He was intimidated enough by this little lady to comply.