by Archer Swift
***
Trying hard not to look too deliriously happy in the morning wash-up routine, I fielded off the surprises that I was the last one down.
“You must’ve really bumped your nut hard, bro!” Dixan pursed his lips in a whistle, his head bobbing as he chuckled. The last few days had deepened my friendship with him, too. I looked over at Judd. Hmm? He looked a little off-colour. Whitewash pale, actually.
Wonder what happened between him and…?
“Right…” began Ruzzell at our morning assembly, looking far more upbeat … leaving the clan far more on edge than the day before, “…the foraging party must do their usual thing today, but since Dixan and everybody’s favourite Villain—” Shawz broke into one of his annoying laughter sessions again at what I discovered was Ruzzell’s new name for me.
With a bear-trap smile, Ruzzell continued. “Since they caught us a jungle load of meat yesterday, me and Shawz are taking the day off. Dixan, you go hunt … just one Hog will be enough. Take the Villain with you—” Again, he was interrupted by Shawz rolling on the ground, slapping his leg in deranged laughter.
I couldn’t help the smile that crept on my face. He looked so idiotic. Bonehead! The gibe was so poor, but Shawz’s overacting was weaker still. Even the other young bucks couldn’t hide their awkwardness. Cartyr dug furiously in his right ear with his pinkie finger, as he was prone to do when self-conscious; his lazy left eye wandering eerily around on its own accord. Brucie crossed his arms tightly in exaggerated fashion; pouting, too—for not getting the day off, I’d presume. To be honest, I couldn’t exactly be sure what was going on inside Satoru’s dome since he wore his usual irritable, crabby expression. If I could hazard a guess though, the scowl lines did appear to run deeper across his brow.
“And you girlies, do what you do around here.” Ruzzell gave a mock version of the domestic work the ladies did. “This place looks like a dump.”
I looked over at Gellica but Judd caught my eye; wound tight as a coil, he sat on the edge of his seat, literally. Barrels loaded and hammer cocked; he seemed itching for a moment to square off with Ruzzell.
“Just some news then,” said Ruzzell. My ears picked up. News? He now had my undivided attention. “Tomorrow, I’m going out for the day—”
“Huh?” Jordin couldn’t help express the surprise we all felt; immediately covering his mouth with both hands, he tucked his head down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, to butt in.”
Out for the day? Is he going shopping? Sun tanning?
Jordin’s interruption didn’t break Ruzzell’s stride. “I’ve got a meeting with the leaders of the southern clans, my first one,” he couldn’t help himself. “And I’m allowed to take four interns with me … Shawz, Satoru, Cartyr and Brucie.”
My stomach sank. I think we all knew this was not an official leaders’ meeting. When Victor attended a leaders’ meet in the past, he would always take one of the older, responsible clan members to join him on his journey, mainly for company and protection. Nobody ever trekked alone. We had never heard of the concept of interns before. Plus, Shawz and Brucie were the young impressionable guys in our clan. Cartyr and Satoru were both highly competent in their own specialised fields: craziness and crankiness. And all younger than Judd. Something was very wrong with this picture.
The four young bloods slapped high-fives among themselves, and when Satoru’s glower ironed out in a snorting grin, the lights went on for me.
He’s recruiting; this must be connected to Dylain’s scheming.
Of course, it was conspicuously obvious given all that had transpired to this point; I just didn’t want to face the unsettling reality.
“Interns?” Judd seized the opportunity. “Ruzzell, you’ve made that up. There’s no such thing as interns—”
“Yes, there is,” Ruzzell spat. “You’re not a leader, you know squat.”
“But the Mzees would have said something about it,” Dixan spoke out for the first time—his jaw muscles clenched and his eyebrows twitching.
“What do you know, Dixan?” spat Brucie buoyed by recent events. Still, he ran his hand through his straight, black hair three times, a habit betraying his insecurities.
“What do you know, Brucie?” replied Dixan mirroring his tick in a scornful jibe. Brucie bristled and then pouted in response, his bottom lip quivering.
I put out a hand on Dixan’s shoulder to calm him down.
“Shut up, all of you,” barked Ruzzell. “I’m an appointed leader now; I have access to information none of you know. I’m leaving first light tomorrow for a meeting, and the boys are coming with me. Final!”
“Ruzz,” Judd tried again, in a softer, more diplomatic tone; the tension in his body uncoiled, but he looked pale, queasy and even self-loathing. “I don’t think it has ever worked that way. Victor never kept secret information from—”
Quick as a lightning strike, Ruzzell bounded over the Base Stump table and crashed down on Judd, pinning him to the ground. I was up in a flash to help my friend, when Shawz stopped me in my tracks. “No! No, you don’t, Villain!” An arrow on the string of his bow pointing at my chest. “Just try something stupid, Stupid!”
Déjà vu! Here we go again!
Aware that Shawz had me neutralised, Ruzzell put his foot on Judd’s chest and pressed his ample weight down on him. Squiggling helplessly, there was no way Judd could move.
“I thought we were all on the same page, Juddie Boy,” Ruzzell’s mouth curled into a sneer as he clicked his knuckles. Again Shawz snickered, his gaudy little snigger grating me no end. “I’m the leader,” Ruzzell continued, “I make the decisions. Your job is to obey. O-B-E-Y!” He spelt out the word as his eyes narrowed and spittle caked his hairy upper lip.
Four-letter words. Wow!
Then he humiliated Judd. Snorting, hawking phlegm from his throat, Ruzzell dribbled a thick wad of saliva onto his face.
“No!” said Nadalie as she hid her face in her hands; Jordin closed his eyes and screwed up his mug, both couldn’t bear to watch. Dixan tensed. Gellica looked at me. In comic contrast, Shawz and the other three ‘interns’ cheered their esteemed leader.
Judd tried to wipe the spit from his face, but managing the weight applied to his chest by Ruzzell’s bulk was his first priority.
“You’re a pansy, Judd; you know that,” said Ruzzell. “You think you’re so cool. The Man. But you’re a wimp, a coward—”
“Enough!” I said, surprised by the conviction in my voice.
The toadies shut up at once, and Ruzzell was forced to turn away from Judd and address me.
“Villain,” he glared at me; his eyebrows pulled tight. “You’re walking a very thin line at the moment, pal. I could break Pretty Boy’s nose here with my heel and give you full credit for it.”
“Ruzzell,” my voice was calm and clear. “Can we chat for a moment, in private?”
“Wh-what?” His eyes widened and then narrowed quickly in surprise. “What are you—?”
“Just you and me.”
“Why?” Ruzzell’s nostrils flared, and his eyes bored into me. “What’s your game, punk?”
“I’ve got an idea … for you to consider … alone.” I was making it up. On the spot. For a long drawn-out moment, Ruzzell’s face was unreadable; his eyes black and cold. And then curiosity got the better of him.
“Okay, come,” he barked. Lifting his foot from Judd’s torso, he traipsed off.
Surprised that he agreed, I simply followed. Grateful to have gotten him off Judd’s case, I didn’t look behind me, but the bewildered silence we left behind was tangibly thick with confusion.
Now what?
We walked to the edge of our camp, where we stopped behind a cluster of trees.
“I don’t know what you’re up to,” he began.
“Nothing, I’m not up to anything … but even you know that if we continue down this road, you’ll have a clan in ruin.”
“Yeah, and you’ll take the fall.”
I played along, still not sure what my proposed idea was. “And then what?”
“You’ll be banished,” he said with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes.
“And then, what? You’ll lose face. It’ll seem you couldn’t control me, and worse, if the clan revolts?” I could see I had his undivided now. And I kept speaking the words that came to mind. “Listen, you’re the boss; we all know that. Make the decisions you feel are best. You’ve got four very loyal gofers there. I’ll speak to the rest and keep them in check. If they give you a hard time, take it out on me. Tell me to whip them into line.”
I was about to wince at my lame suggestion when doofus took the bait.
“Mmmm…” Ruzzell rubbed his brow, “…sure can’t have mutiny on my watch. Okay, okay … but I don’t trust you, Villain. Make no mistake, I will take it out on you. I told Dylain you’re a loose cannon. He doesn’t like you much. Doesn’t like the way the Mzees shine to you. Wants to make an example of you.”
What?
“Well … then you’ve got nothing to lose and um, everything to gain.”
“I’m watching you, Villain.” Towering over me, he dug his rod-like finger into my chest, hard, and his nostrils widened as he sucked in air forcefully. It was classic Ruzzell: intimidation for dummies. “Cross me, and I’ll kill you. Dead.”
That I could just about see his pea-sized brain through his horsey nostrils nearly cracked me up. I stifled the grin that threatened to burst onto my face and found two flat words: “I know.” I couldn’t believe how calm I felt.
“Come, dweeb” snorted Ruzzell, evidently agitated by the fact that I hadn’t broken into a cold sweat. “Let’s get back.”