“Know-it-all,” thought Adelaide.
“Alright then,” Clayton announced. “Let’s pack up everything and head out.” The morning sky, once blue and illuminated by the pleasant spring sunlight, was now overwhelmed by tumultuous wave upon wave of growing grey chaos. One could hardly tell it was midday anymore, and not a ray of light could penetrate the storm. Low growls of thunder sounded from deep within the thick sheet blanketing the sky, soon followed by a series of violent bursts of light and cracks of lightening striking down into the surrounding fields. The group had been walking less than half an hour before the lightening bursts started touching down not a hundred yards away in every direction. As unnerving as it was, Clayton led on, his expression grim but resolved.
“How long have we been walking?” shouted Raoul in between a few claps of thunder.“Cherry needs to rest.” “Oh no, please, I am quite fine,” Cherry exclaimed, even as she swayed a little to the right, “I could walk a thousand miles.” “Yeah well, I wouldn’t let you,” stated Raoul dryly. “Come on now, hop on my back. I’ll carry you a bit.” The rain started a few minutes later. A gentle drizzle soon became a reckless torrent. Both lightning and thunder were battling for supremacy in the skies above, lighting the way for Clayton as he led the group along with a lorb in his hand, his clothes soaking through to the bone. Adelaide did her best to keep her hair from obstructing her vision. Finn seemed at ease by the storm, it was certainly doing an excellent job of taking his mind off the growing rashes from the corn stalks. Quiet snores confirmed to Raoul that Cherry was fast asleep, her arms still wound tightly around his neck.
“We have to stop!” Raoul exclaimed. “I’m not leaving this little girl out in the rain any longer.”
“Oh give it a rest, Blondie,” Finn yelled over the sound of the growing storm. “Just try keeping it in your pants, will you?” Raoul turned to face Finn, his face dark with fury. “If I wasn’t carrying her right now,” he hissed. “I’d…I’d kill you, Wessel. I’d kill you right where you stand. I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“Go ahead and try,” goaded Finn. “Even with these rashes, I’d kick your rump.”
“Are you two really doing this? Right now?” asked Taz. “Stay out of this, givie!” Finn yelled. “This little issue doesn’t need your guidance.” “Look, we just need to keep calm, guys,” Clayton said, turning around. “I know you’re both exhausted. Just a little further and we’ll rest, I promise you.”
“No, Clayton,” Raoul growled . “It isn’t about the storm, or the fact we’re out of food, have no map, no idea where the rot we’re going, or even proper weapons to defend ourselves with. It’s about this rotter and his attitude towards me, one that I’ve had it up to here with. Now, I’ve put up with a lot of things, especially on account of you and Adelaide, with her girlish desires and winking taste in men, but I am drawing the line now. This is where it stops.”
Finn laughed sarcastically. Even Adelaide couldn’t ignore how horrid he was acting. “Oh, how adorable,” he threw at Raoul. “Some little squirm shows you affection and you practically glue yourself onto her. Goes to show just how desperate you are for some human kindness, you….you sad, lonely wink.”
“That’s enough now, I mean it,” warned Clayton. “By Sorra, how have you all survived?” threw in Taz. “Rot off, Wessel,” Raoul growled.
“Come on, King , bring it. I’ll send you home weeping to your father. Oh, wait…..I’d forgotten….he’s not much for taking care of you, is he?”
Raoul stopped abruptly. His mouth flew open, a loud scratchy sound emitting from his throat. His eyes bulged, his lips quivered, and his hands trembled violently.
“You…..you…..are….a dead man. You…..you don’t get to….to…” “What?” Finn sneered. “I don’t get to do what?” “Finn,” Adelaide said. “That’s enough.” “Back off now, Finn,” Clayton said. “I’m warning you.” Ignoring them, he took a step towards Raoul. “Come on, Blondie. Bring it.”
“No!” yelled Taz, stepping forward. “I’ll bring it.” She struck Finn across the mouth with a closed fist, throwing him back several steps and causing blood to gush from his lip. Adelaide cried out and rushed to his side as he fell.
“Is that what you want?” Taz shouted down at him. “Huh? You want a little blood on your lip? You might be sick and itchy and tired right now, but frankly, so are the rest of us. You’re nothing special, you raven haired rot! Now shut your mouth and deal with it. I doubt your friend would have been that kind to you if you’d pushed him any further.”
“Rotting right I wouldn’t have,” muttered Raoul quietly. “Clayton , please, we really have to stop and rest,” Adelaide pleaded. “We’ve been at this all day, and we’ll drown if we don’t find someplace now.”
“I agree,” said Taz. “We can’t risk pushing on any further. Tensions are too high.” “I know,” assured Clayton. “But we can’t just plop down in the middle of a field. We need some shelter to stay out of this storm.”
“Hey everyone,” said Cherry, a trembling yawn escaping her lips as she spoke. “What’s that over there?”
All eyes turned. A hundred yards down the road, a tiny, flickering light could be seen.
“Maybe someone lives there,” Adelaide suggested. “We should check it out,” said Clayton. “They might be able to put us up for the night.” “Or turn us in to the local authorities,” Taz threw in. “Have you all forgotten Pinewood already? We should see if we can hide out somewhere on the property instead of just knocking on the front door.”
“It’s a chance we have to take. We have a little girl here and no good protection from this storm. A cold barn with no food isn’t going to cut it.”
“This storm isn’t going to let up,” Adelaide said. “We need to be out of it for as long as we can.”
Taz looked from one to the other, her expression one of cynical discomfort.
“Alright,” she said. “This is your group. I’ll follow your lead.” Clayton slowly led the group along the road towards the light. A loud crack of thunder shook their senses as the skies rumbled and roared continuously. A bright bolt of lightning struck down in the field behind them, causing Adelaide and Cherry to shriek out at its close quarters. Any more time out in the open and the next one might land a little too close. They had just a few minutes before it would strike again, and no time to seek alternate shelter. Whatever that light meant, it had to offer them sanctuary. All their lives depended on it.
Out from the darkness loomed a tall structure. It was faint at first, but became more distinct as the group drew closer. A poorly constructed fence started to the right of the road, carrying on for several yards before veering away into the field. As it did so, the crops parted away and revealed an acre of open land. The tall building stood positioned squarely in the center of it, rising two stories tall with an arching roof that measured half the height of the house itself. A solitary lorb glowed faintly from inside a glass lantern. It hung from a small hook attached to a long strand of cable, attached securely to the ceiling of the house’s front porch. The walls were colored in egg-white paint that had peeled due to lack of upkeep and care. The roof was layered in swamp green shingles that looked loose and slippery in the falling downpour. No lights could be seen behind the window panes, but even in the darkness it seemed like all the curtains were drawn and the shutters closed. If there hadn’t been a light burning out on the front porch, the group could have easily walked right past it and not known it was there. The front yard was covered in scattered tall weeds, the grass newly green, but barely visible under the long shafts of dry yellow plants. At the foot of the road there was a picket fence coated in a fine oak glaze, which intensified the coat of the wooden planks. From what could be seen, it was the finest attribute to the entire premises. A broken gate swung loosely on its hinges, leading to a brick layered path that crossed across the lawn up to the front porch. The house, as a whole, appeared deserted.
“I don’t like this,” Taz stated.
; “There’s a lorb,” Adelaide said. “Someone must live here.”
“Or maybe it’s haunted by a ghost that consumes little squirms,” Finn laughed. Cherry whimpered quietly. Raoul gave him a violent shove. “If someone does reside here, we won’t make the mistake of spooking them,” Clayton said. “I’ll go first and make sure it is safe.”
“Alone?” Adelaide asked.
“Sure,” Clayton laughed, tucking his mallet into his belt. “What’s the worst that can happen right?” “I should go,” said Raoul.
“No!” Cherry cried.
“Don’t be winked, I’ll do it,” Clayton told him. Raoul smiled and shook his head. “Take a look at yourselves,” he laughed. “You all look like the Red Hands you’re accused to be, and I certainly wouldn’t think of sending up Cherry. I’m unarmed, smartly dressed and locally known. They’d see me as less of a threat…if they saw me as one at all.”
“I don’t know…” Taz began.
“Raoul, are you certain?” Clayton asked. “You don’t have to do this.”
Their companion looked down at Cherry clinging to his shirt and sighed. “After what we’ve just been through, who knows what we might find.” With that he stood upright and marched towards the house.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The walkway leading up to the porch was made of grainy sand and the occasional stone pebble. Each small step brought Raoul a little closer to the door, his eyes ever scanning the windows for signs of movement. The group watched from behind the gate. Clayton’s hand rested on his sword hilt. Adelaide was clenching Finn’s hand in hers. Cherry stared after Raoul longingly, her eyes wide with terror as she watched him cover the path without much difficulty and stroll up to the front door. All seemed to be going well, so far. Even Raoul couldn’t help but sigh in relief as he considered the strong possibility that this house would be empty and open for them all to enjoy.
His foot was barely on the front step before the door before him swung open. He froze in his tracks, unable to react further. The outline of a tall, muscular figure stood before him, barely visible in the dark atmosphere of the stormy night. In his hands was a long barreled rifle. Raoul heard a loud click as the figure pulled back the hammer, intent on firing should he attempt to flee. He could feel the cold wind curling the hairs on the back of his neck as he stood there helpless, hoping the person before him didn’t have a series of homemade graves in the back yard specifically for visitors like him.
The weapon was pointing directly at Raoul ’s chest. The figure holding it took two steps forward, leaving the shadow of the house and revealing himself. He had wild gray hair that fell down around his neck. He was built with sinewy muscles that bulged from inside his tight, weathered coat. He had piercing brown eyes and bits of stubble all around his cheeks and chin. His expression was grim, and his hands steady as he lifted the gun closer to Raoul’s face.
“What’s your business here, son?” the man asked gruffly. “I….I was….I was just looking for some….some shelter from the rain.”
The man shook his head and jerked the gun briefly to the side. “No room here, tonight,” he declared. “We aren’t running a bed and breakfast.”
“Please…I’m cold and hungry. We all are. I mean…..just me. It’s just me here.”
The old man raised an eyebrow and grasped the trigger more intently.
“What sort of game are you playing?” he snarled. Raoul closed his eyes in fear. There was no point in running away. He wouldn’t make it five feet before getting gunned down. “I…..I don’t know,” he cried. “I am so cold and hungry. Please don’t end my rotting life!”
“No! You leave him alone!” Raoul ’s head jerked around at the sound of Cherry’s voice. She had leapt to her feet and run through the gate, stopping halfway down the front path before anyone could stop her.
“Get out of sight,” Raoul hissed. The old man looked up at Cherry, and then returned his gaze to Raoul. His expression didn’t change, but his lower lip started quivering quite noticeably. The sight of Cherry out in the rain seemed to have struck some hidden nerve, one that caused him to lower the gun and blink back the makings of a tear.
“Sal, what’s going on out there? Who are you talking to?” a voice called from inside the house.
“Just some passing travelers set on stealing our hospitality.” Another figure made its way out onto the porch. It was a woman. Her face was cringed and wrinkled, but also lovingly kind. Around her shoulders was a tattered grey shawl, covering part of a long, white night gown. She gasped in surprise when she saw Raoul standing with his hands thrust into the air, and exclaimed in horror when she witnessed Cherry shivering close behind him.
“Oh for Sorra’s sake, Sal, they’re just squirms. What are you thinking, pointing that…that cannon at them?”
“Well, I didn’t know they were squirms when I heard them outside, now did I?” the old man grumbled. “You do now, you old wink,” the white haired woman exclaimed, slapping the back of his head with her hand. “I swear you’d lose your common sense if not for me. Just put the gun down and tell them to come on in before they drown out there.”
“We uh…..we have some friends too,” Raoul stated, his hands still thrust high above his head.
The man turned away and shook his head.
“It’s like we’re running a bed and breakfast out here,” he muttered. “Now Sal, that’s enough,” the woman demanded, before turning back to Raoul. “Come right on up, son, you must be freezing. You as well, little one, and anyone else hiding out there.”
Clayton walked out from behind the fence. He stood there silently for a second before ushering Adelaide and Finn to join him. Taz followed them, ready for anything.
“You’ll have to excuse my husband,” the old woman said smiling. She reached down and offered them each a quilted blanket from a bamboo chest next to the open doorway. “He’s always grumpy when it rains. You could pack an umbrella by his attitude.”
“If she calls us little critters…just once… I am out of here,” whispered Finn to Adelaide. “I don’t care how cozy these blankets are.”
The man reappeared at the door, his brow stern and unwavering. “Well,” he began. “I suppose as long as you’re going to be using up valuable space, you might as well come inside. We’ve got some leftover stew in the pot and some warm coffee in the kitchen. Help yourselves.”
The house was much more pleasant from the inside than the group would have guessed. The floors were of stainless oak, and the walls were composed of plaster and coated in peach-colored paint. Pieces of furniture dotted the small living room, including a couple of antique couches, a hand-carved coffee table, some stools and chairs, and a record player in the corner, playing a beautiful combination of harp music and violin symphonies. To Adelaide, it felt like if she had ever met her grandmother, this is the kind of house she would have lived in.
The kitchen was simple enough. A table stood on the center of the cement tiled floor with two long benches placed on both sides of it. There was a small sink for washing in the corner, next to the back door, and an icebox standing against the wall. The woman pulled a brass pot out of it, steam still rising from a crack in its cover. She opened it to reveal its contents: a mixture of pork, beef, potatoes, and white rice swimming in rich gravy.
Every bowl dished out was emptied in a matter of seconds. Taz and Cherry had seconds. Finn had thirds. Adelaide burned her tongue on the stew, burning it again later on with the coffee she swallowed too quickly. All this aside, she couldn’t remember having a more delicious supper. Raoul helped Cherry finish her second bowl while sipping a small glass of coffee that the woman had poured them. They swallowed their beverages with ease, sitting back contently once they finished.
Clayton took his time, slowly allowing the juicy chunks of meat and tiny clusters of white rice to roll along his tongue, catching every taste bud on the way down. It was impossible, even as hungry as he was, to wolf down this simple, yet indulgent feast before him. On any
other day, a bowl of stew and coffee wouldn’t have given him cause for joy, but with the storm rolling around them, the cold sweat of fear from stray bolts of lightning still fresh on his mind, and murderous villains on horseback riding them down…a bowl of stew was more.
After he’d finished, he politely placed his empty bowl on the table, allowing his stomach a few seconds to process this bulging change in the recent diet of a fugitive. The kind old woman had pulled out a small platter from one of the cupboards next to the icebox, which contained a series of newly frosted delights, ranging from chocolate and caramel flavored cupcakes to a round honey drizzled marshmallow in the center. Its size and depth seemed absurd for a marshmallow, which anyone would say served its consumer better by being small and fluffy. This one, however, had been magnified greatly. It would most likely have taken ten people ten minutes to devour it entirely, a feat which Finn, Taz, Adelaide, and Cherry took upon themselves to tackle. Raoul continued slurping down his bowl of stew while hungrily eyeing the desserts before his eyes. Clayton simply smiled and walked away, leaving them all to finish stuffing themselves off of the old woman’s kindness.
He strolled into the living room and took a seat across from the old man. The glowing lorbs in the nearby fireplace illuminated his worn, experienced features. His hand dipped slowly into his vest pocket and pulled forth a round tin of chewing tobacco. He offered some to Clayton after sliding a pinch of it inside his mouth.
“Oh no thank you, sir, I don’t partake.” The old man nodded with a grunt. Almost a full minute of silence passed before he spoke again. “Rotting habit to get into, I’m afraid. Started on my fifteenth birthday and haven’t stopped since. Drives the wife winked to watch me do it, but we all have our private pleasures, don’t we?”
“That is quite true, sir.”
The old man shook his head.
“That’s e nough with the sir. I may be old, but it doesn’t help with you rubbing it in. My name is Salvatore Martello. Call me Sal.”
The Acryptus Tree Page 14