The Works of Julius St. Clair - 2017 Edition (Includes 3 full novels and more)

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The Works of Julius St. Clair - 2017 Edition (Includes 3 full novels and more) Page 2

by Julius St. Clair


  A lesson the Academy was sure to teach.

  James wasn’t completely oblivious. He understood the purpose of a training school. Whatever enemies the Kingdom had, whatever evils were outside their walls—it was necessary to keep them at bay. The Sentinel Academy—the training facility for the Kingdom’s infantry…they had to be doing an adequate job, even if no one ever returned to confirm this belief. But James knew he couldn’t survive there. There was no doubt about that.

  And that’s why he decided to run away.

  Sure he’d pack, say his good-byes, and even head in the Academy’s general direction, but he would never make it to the entrance. When it came down to it, he’d rather betray his Kingdom than be sent off to die. It was finally time to gain the freedom he had longed for and who knew what services he could offer another village or another Kingdom? There had to be a better life than this.

  “I guess I’ll say my good-byes in the morning,” James replied, getting up to go to his room. “Until then, take care.”

  “You’re not going to spend some time with your dear old dad?”

  “See you tomorrow,” James said bitterly.

  He made his way upstairs, climbing each step sluggishly as if they pulled at his soles. Still, it was the burden wrapped around his shoulders that really bothered him. He had dreamed of leaving his father for as long as he could remember, but it was undeniable that he had a good thing going on at home. Free food, free shelter, no debt and the only downside were his father’s random, irrelevant lectures. The thought “Mom would let me stay forever” crossed his mind, but he let it pass quickly. He didn’t think of his mother much, and there was no point really. Except for a few mementos and trinkets of nostalgia strewn around the house, a stranger would barely even know she existed.

  Lazily, he sludged through the organized mounds of junk cluttering his room, making it feel like a crawlspace.Thank the Maker I haven’t attracted any major insects over the years,he thought. Actually, there hadn’t been a single fly buzzing around the house in months. The notion was strange to him but he soon shrugged off the thought. The insects wouldn’t be missed.

  He plopped down on his sanctuary as hard as he could, knowing the goose feathers would envelope him like a cloud. It felt just as soft. He often found himself on his bed and not just for sleeping. It was his self-proclaimed “thinking cap.” And as if on cue, as soon as the silk-like pillow caressed his cheek and the blankets caressed his skin, the dam broke, and a flood of memories poured through his mind—faster than he could sort through. There was no rhyme or reason behind what he chose to think about.

  Usually, the flood would consist of what was for dinner that night or who was interested in whom at school. This time, however, it was all about the Academy. And the influx of worry was so strong, it felt like the levees were going to crumble and he was going to lose himself in a never-ending depression.

  The Academy.

  That Oblivion.

  That suicide mission.

  The recruits worked so hard to defend a Kingdom that never seemed to be attacked, and it wasn’t really worth protecting. He had heard that nearly half of the recruits didn’t even survive the training. What kind of regiment was that?

  James sucked his teeth in disdain and pressed the pillow firmly to his ear, as if he were closing the door to a vault. Shutting his eyes as tight as he could, he concentrated only on the darkness engulfing his vision. And before he knew it, he was asleep.

  ***

  “We should get some lunch,” a voice said from a distance, breaking through his subconscious. “I had oats for breakfast. You know how that stuff goes through me.”

  “I know. It digests in like half an hour.”

  “At least you get a half hour. I feel like I’m eating air.”

  “Doesn’t your Mom make you bacon and eggs anymore? You used to brag about that every morning while I had to suffer on porridge.”

  “She says I gotta watch my weight. No girl’s going to want me if I’m fat.”

  “YourMom said that? That’s kinda harsh.”

  “She’s just saying that cuz she wants me to get married, eventually get a job and take care of her someday.”

  “It’s still weird for a mom to say.” The voice stopped. James was vaguely aware of some scraping of shoes on the gravel outside of his window. There was a moment of silence.

  “There goes my stomach again.”

  “That was your stomach?!” the second voice cried in alarm. “Sheesh, I thought it was a gopher or something.”

  “How do you know what a gopher sounds like? Do you even know what a gopher is?”

  “Hey, just thought of something…since we’re here, shouldn’t we see if James wants some lunch too?”

  “What time is it?”

  A pause.

  “Two o’ clock. Prime steak with extra onions time.”

  “Then we shouldn’t bother. It’s not even four in the afternoon. You know he’s never awake before then.”

  “Then how does he get to school?”

  “Most days he doesn’t. You know that.”

  “And he’s passing?”

  “No,” the voice said flatly.

  “Man, that’s cold. Shouldn’t you lower your voice? He might hear you.”

  “He knows who he is. He won’t care.”

  The voices trailed off as the last sentence forced James awake. There was no way he was going back to sleep now. And as slow as they walked, he figured he could perform his morning ritual and still catch up to them. Jennings was going to pay. He had to be the one who made that last comment. His mouth lacked a filter, and James suddenly had a mind to give him one. What right did he have passing judgment so casually? So what if James had told him he was a “slacker, born and raised?” That didn’t mean he could talk about him behind his back. It was time to settle the score.

  James rolled off the bed to his hands and knees, quickly busted out twenty push-ups, turned around to give the Maker a quick “thank you,” and then immediately launched himself into a pile of clothes, threw on his favorite coat, and ran out of the room. He could still hear his friends talking at the street corner when he burst out of the house and hit the ground running.

  They had to be on their way toStuff and Gorge, the only working restaurant in Allay. It was bound to be crowded, but no one seemed to mind. Not only was it the sole place to eat out, it was also very cheap and all-you-can-eat, which meant everyone in the Kingdom had this place to thank for the muffin tops they called a stomach. James was grateful for his fast metabolism.

  It didn’t take long to catch up to them.

  Jennings may have been a football star, and an athlete with little to no fat on him, but his partner in crime was Korey, a faithful customer ofStuff and Gorge. No doubt he was keeping them at a comfortable pace.

  James tried sneaking up on them but he was sure Jennings caught him out the corner of his eye as they turned onto the next street. The following conversation confirmed it.

  “Was that James just now?” Jennings asked rhetorically.

  “Let me see…was it a light-skinned, short-haired teenager with the same loose black shirt, dark blue pants and ‘vintage’ coat?”

  “Yeah, that’s him.”

  “Then yes, we saw him. I think he was attempting to scare us.”

  “Even his tricks are lazy.”

  “Guess you guys just love to gossip, huh?” James remarked, knowing his cover was blown. Jennings smirked with his signature pretty-boy smile. The smile that made simple-minded villagers forgive all his dirty dealings.

  “The only reason we said those things was because we knew you were there,” Jennings replied, moving out of the path of a moving pile of hay. The village was catching its second wind, finishing up the mid-day chores and transactions. James usually didn’t notice, but today for some reason, he didn’t mind taking in the smell of manure, straw, and sweat permeating the air. It was disgusting, but it was home.

  “Still no reason to
talk about my clothes or my character,” James’ voice cracked as he matched the stride of his friends.

  “Alright. Alright. I’m sorry. You can be so sensitive…but while we are on the subject, why do you wear the same clothes every day? Especially that coat. Is it a family heirloom or something?”

  “It was my father’s. My mother gave it to him a few days before she left. When she disappeared, he gave it to me. He felt like she had been planning her departure for a while, the way she gave it to him.”

  “What’s it say on the back again?”

  “Farewell.”

  “Oh, that’s dark,” Jennings said, his voice trailing off.

  “So, James,” Korey interjected. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “A couple of friends of mine wouldn’t shut up outside my window.”

  “Aww,” Jennings laughed. “I know how getting less than twelve hours messes up your whole schedule. Need some coffee?”

  “Nah, lunch with you two should wake me up, especially if Korey’s eating. It’s like watching ants rip an injured fly apart—disgusting, but it’s sure hard to look away.”

  “Hey,” Korey laughed. “You don’t eat like a civilized human being yourself.”

  “The fact is, both of you disgust me,” Jennings said firmly. “But having you around is the only way I get to show my face at the restaurant. The way you two load up your plates, no one bothers glancing at mine. I can eat to my heart’s content and still maintain my reputation.”

  “James, you got money right?” Korey asked abruptly.

  “Of course,” he declared proudly. “I horde my money like we’re about to have a famine.”

  “Just asking. Because I was just wondering if your father cut your allowance again.” Korey chuckled as he tripped over his own foot. The conversation didn’t miss a beat. They were used to his clumsiness, especially around the raised cobblestones that covered the ground. Jennings was usually quick to make a smart remark but since they had been friends for so long, no one thought much of it. Jennings was often aware of his comments but only after they had already been said, and so each day in the privacy of his home, he would silently pray that his friends wouldn’t find him too arrogant.

  The villagers saw only the superstar jock, and while he loved the attention, he knew that he needed real friends too. The kind he could talk to uncensored and raw about life, women, and where he needed help in his short-comings. Friends that would love him no matter what, even if the general public would someday turn against him. He was a jerk, but he was their jerk, and he was happy to remind them just how corrupted his thinking was at times. James, on the other hand, wasn’t quite ready to bear his all in front of others, even to those close to him.

  “What’s my father got to do with anything?” James asked.

  “Whenever I think about your father,” Korey sighed. “And it’s a lot—”

  “—weird—”

  “—I think about him trying to grow corn on that fertile ground and how he still hasn’t managed to do it. I know you didn’t get your money from him, so I was wondering what he actually sells. The clothes on his back? The food he secretly buys from the market? I’ve seen the jars in your house. That’s gotta be it. And it would explain why you ran outside so fast. You must be starving!”

  “We’re doing fine actually…somehow. I think my dad has a side job he’s not telling me about. There’s no way he could still own the farm with what he grows. His savings have to be shot by now. I don’t know how he manages.”

  “Can’t be a side job,” Korey said. “Small village like this? Too many people would know who he is. Do you have a job you’re not telling anyone about?”

  Jennings burst out laughing.

  “Good point,” Korey said. “Well, about your dad then. Did you ask him how he keeps the farm afloat? I mean, you have that house. It’s not the castle or anything, but it’s still the biggest house in the village.”

  “I asked him once,” James said flatly, looking over to Jennings. “But he just yelled out that farming is all he needs or something. I didn’t really hear the whole thing.”

  “Typical,” Jennings muttered. “Hey look, there’s the restaurant.”

  The restaurant was actually Sally Marie’s house. Sure, the place was small, and in serious need of expansion, but that didn’t stop the villagers from crowding into any vacant chair or corner they could find. By clearing out the first floor and replacing all the furniture with wooden tables and cushioned chairs, every room but the kitchen had become a dining room. Legend had it that she slept on the roof when the place closed down for the night. The villagers whispered that the Maker himself bestowed recipes from Paradise upon her while she slept up there. Her food was so good, even the most ornery of villagers swore to its authenticity.

  Stuff and Gorge had been an instant success upon its opening and had been in business before James and his friends were born. Jennings used to tease Korey, saying that Sally Marie was secretly his grandmother and that that’s why he’d gotten doubly fat while the rest of the villagers were just fighting off a couple of fleshy tires. Korey rarely took offense to the insult. He genuinely wished they were family.

  “The line goes all the way out the door,” Korey whined when their destination came into view.

  “You expected different?” Jennings grunted in annoyance. He obviously had.

  “Still, it’s worth the wait. Seriously, where does she get all that food?”

  “Probably steals it from James’ dad. It’s why we never see the crops.”

  James chuckled, despite himself. Sally Marie had to have had a deal with half of the farmers to be able to meet the demand.

  “I can’t say too much,” Korey said, rearing up on his tip-toes to see over Michael Crick’s ginormous head. He was a tall and wide theater director, ritually stuffing and gorging himself after a particularly atrocious rehearsal. Korey continued the conversation.

  “Can’t say much at all,” he repeated.

  “Why’s that?” James asked. He could care less if they made fun of his father.

  “I’d probably have nothing to sell if I was a farmer. I snack too much.”

  “Maybe…”

  “Ever thought about taking over the family business, James?”

  “Why? You want a job?”

  “No. Just wondering.”

  “How could he be a farmer when he knows nothing about it?” Jennings, of course.

  “What can I say?” James replied, shrugging his shoulders. “He’s right.”

  “Do you want to be a farmer?”

  “Not really, but I might have to learn it just in case.”

  “You should talk to Leidy,” Jennings said as he nodded at his own suggestion. “She’s definitely got the farmer’s touch.”

  “What’s the farmer’s touch?”

  “I don’t know,” Jennings sighed. “I just made it up—whatever—she’s good at what she does.”

  “Yeah, she’s so successful that she has no time for us anymore. When was the last time we all hung out? The four of us?”

  “Can’t remember.”

  Korey growled in anger. Michael Crick and a few others in line turned around and looked at them cautiously. A couple little girls further up giggled.

  “What was that?” James asked, raising his eyebrow. “A dying lion?”

  “This line hasn’t moved in five minutes,” Korey mumbled.

  “Well, stop thinking about your stomach and join the conversation,” Jennings snapped back.

  “We should go to Leidy’s store. She runs it when her parents need a break. We might be able to get some free fruit to tide us over.”

  “You do know that this line isn’t going to hold our spot.”

  “I don’t care. I’m just hungry.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me,” James said as Jennings threw his hands into the air.

  The three of them left the line simultaneously and a couple people behind them cheered under their breath. Th
ankfully, it was only a couple streets down to Leidy’s. It was really her parents’ store and it actually had no name, being known as the “fruit store” by the villagers, but since Leidy did all the work, friends called it by her name.

  The villagers didn’t know what to think of Leidy and her unusual character. She was as plain as dirt even by the village’s standards, and her attire usually consisted of a dingy tank top and a pair of manure-stained loose pants that she refused to wash. She never wore shoes. And she cared little for what others thought of her since her assertive attitude had always gotten her ahead in life. Not to say she was arrogant or full of pride. She was actually a sweet and well-mannered individual…until she set her sights on something she wanted. Then she transformed.

  It took only ten minutes to journey to Leidy’s corner store, and to their amusement, she was already doing her rounds of kicking non-spenders out onto the street.

  “You’ve been scaring ma customers long enough!” Leidy scolded one man, her thick accent already making them laugh. No one knew how to label it, but it sounded like she was chewing peanut butter when she talked.

  “I’m not scaring them!” the man pleaded. “I’m warning them!” He was wearing a stained poncho with a number of patches on the exterior. Korey muttered something about the man’s name being John.

  “Warning em o what?” Leidy asked, giving him an evil eye. “R great savings and discount prices? Cuz if it’s anything otter than that, yeh gotta go!”

  “Judgment is coming! The Maker will soon destroy Allay for its disobedience and complacency!”

  “I hear yeh alright. Yehr being too complacent in buying ma products, and too disobedient in leaving ma store, but I’m no Maker! Just a lady wit a growing temper that rivals his own!”

  “I’m leaving now, but I’ll be back tomorrow!”

  “Well, I guess I’ll see yeh in tha morning. In tha mean time, I pray tha good Maker will take yeh by then!”

 

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