25 September 2010
Chapter 5
Ok I'm trying to write at least a little every day so hopefully I can bang out chapter 5 pretty soon. Thanks to whoever might be reading any of it. Please take the time to leave a comment.
14 September 2010
Spade 10:4
Spade 10:4
The sun had risen high in the eastern sky by the time I came to. Seems the hurricane had decided to move on while I was passed out. Ow, it hurts to move. All the muscles in my body feel like I haven't used them in weeks.
I push myself up into a seated position and look around but, nothing seems right. Where am I? An old barn? That's not right. I should be lying in the middle of the street. How did I get here? I wince away the pain as I make my way to my feet to get a better view of the place I'm in.
Dried out hay bales are scattered around the place, most so old their yellow color had faded to a dingy gray. The wood framing also had the same coloring but the graying gave it an appearance of stone and the wood siding the builder had used had lost so much of its moister over the years that the planks had gasp between them so wide you could stick a finger through.
“I’m amazed this place is still standing”, I chuckle to myself.
"I see you have finally woken up", a baritone voice from behind me bellows. I spin around as quickly as my muscles will allow me too, and draw my pistol… wait where's my pistol?
The voice came from the shadows made by the open barn doors."It's on the table over there but you won't need it while you are here. If I meant you any harm I'd have left you lying in the street where I found you." He then stepped into the light and I could now see who was talking to me. Before me stood the largest, oldest looking Indian, er… Native American, that I've ever seen. He stood at least 6'10" and had more cracks, bumps and lines in his features than a dried up river bed. A worn leather eye patch covered his left eye. Something emanated from him that gave me a since of peace but, set me on edge all at the same time. He must be where they got the idea for the wooden Indian statues. "I'm not that old kid-o, but I'm close." He chuckled in that deep voice.
"How… do you… know what I'm thinking?", I stammer.
"Ancient Chinese secret", he chuckled again. "You've been unconscious for almost three weeks. We've been taking care of you as best we could with the limited resources we have with us."
"We?”
"Gawh-gawh", came from the rafters above me. A crow sat high on a cross beam near a large hole in the wooden shingled roof to the left of me. Even from that far away I could see an unmistakable intelligence in its eyes.
The old Indian started coughing heavily as he made his way across the floor to a brick stove with a cook pot on it that I swear, wasn't there moments ago. My head started to hurt and I needed to sit down so I turned toward the table were my gun lay and I was shocked to see a golden brown coyote sitting in one of the chairs. Its eyes starred into me and for a moment I felt connected to… her. I stumbled and the connection broke like a door slamming in my face.
Man I've got to sit down. As I did she continued to study me with her eyes, I looked back into them but nothing happened this time. I feel like I'm losing my mind… more.
"Kitua can have that effect on people from time to time." He said as he sat down to my left and dropped a bowl of what looked like chili in front of me. "Eat up kid, you need to put some meat back on those bones."
" I guess I need to be saying thanks for finding me out there, if you hadn't I'd have died by now, which might have been a good thing if I had." The last part I let slip out so quietly that I didn't think he could of heard me but he did. "That would have been a shame" was all he said just as quietly as I had as he shoveled a bite of chili into his maw of a mouth.
My pistol sat in the middle of the table just a foot and half in front of me and I started to reach for it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the old man flick a quick glance at me and then the gun. I'm not sure why but I changed the target of my reach to grab the spoon sticking out of the bowl and awkwardly took a bite of the chili. "Wow, this is good!"I mumble.
"Not my best," he responded.
"Well it's the best I've had in a long, long time." My unease was waning with reach bite and I was getting that feeling of being home. Heh, home that would be something; to just go back to the way things were before the war fucked everything up.
"Who says you can't go home… who says you can't go back…" I hear Him sing from the back of my mind.
I almost jumped out of my seat, my heart skipped and I started to choke on the last bit of chili I had taken. He had been quiet for so long this time I had forgotten he was there slipping through the creases of my mind like a venomous snake in a still pond. He laughed at me but went quiet again.
"Yep, it can get to you every once in a while", he said as he looked at me from his empty bowl. "You want some more?"
"Maybe something to drink would be nice", I choked out.
"Well, there's water in the barrel out back if you want but, I've got this right here." He pulled his left hand up from underneath the table holding a weather beaten bottle of rum so old the label was etched in the glass, my mouth began to water. How long had it been since I'd had a drink, almost ten years? Has she been gone that long?
He poured three fingers worth into two tall glasses that he had produced with the bottle. They had sat upside down on top of the bottle like a crystal bell and chimed as he sat the bottle on the table.
"To new friends and past loves" he said raising his glass to his mouth. I hesitated only for a moment then took the glass in hand and put down half of it in one shot. It might as well have been water with how smooth it went down but the old man started coughing, doubling himself over where he sat at the table.
The coyote just sat there and watched us from her chair across from me.
"I'm getting too old and I'm too tired these days to do anything about it", he spat out between the coughing. "This world's gone to Hell and there used to be a day when I would have stepped out that door and stopped it but, I don't have the strength anymore, Jack. War is a young man's game. I tried to steer events to a more favorable outcome but, that old road to Hell is paved with good intentions isn't it?" his coughing cut him off again.
I looked at him with a skeptical eye and blurted out, "How long you been out here on your own like this old man? And how'd you know my name?"
He stopped coughing, sat up straight, poured himself half a glass of rum, shot it down in one gulp, looked me right in the eye with his one good one and said, "Too long and you talk in your sleep." He slammed the glass back down on the table and got up. "I'm going to take a nap. Try to make yourself useful since you're awake now and go get some wood for a fire tonight." With that he slowly made his way from the table to one of the hay beds in the corner. He groaned as he lay down and I swear the ground groaned with him. I looked at the rum bottle to see if the rum inside was rippling from the vibrations in the ground but the bottle was full. I know we drank at least half the rum. My head started to hurt again.
"Take Kit-", he started to cough, "Kitua with you." Then he started to snore.
I looked from him to the coyote and she jumped down from the chair and headed out the door. When I didn't immediately follow her she stepped back in the doorway and barked once at me then turned and headed further outside.
"Great another female telling me what to do", I grabbed my pistol, slipped it back in my holster and headed out the door to go get some wood for a fire but, I was startled as that crow swooped past me out the door with the ringing of “Gawh-gawh” left in its wake.
My head ached from all the weirdness of the last hour.
The sun had risen high in the eastern sky by the time I came to. Seems the hurricane had decided to move on while I was passed out. Ow, it hurts to move. All the muscles in my body feel like I haven't used them in weeks.
I push myself up into a seated position and look around but, nothing seems right. Where am I? An old barn? That's not right. I should be lying in the middle of the street. How did I get here? I wince away the pain as I make my way to my feet to get a better view of the place I'm in.
Dried out hay bales are scattered around the place, most so old their yellow color had faded to a dingy gray. The wood framing also had the same coloring but the graying gave it an appearance of stone and the wood siding the builder had used had lost so much of its moister over the years that the planks had gasp between them so wide you could stick a finger through.
“I’m amazed this place is still standing”, I chuckle to myself.
"I see you have finally woken up", a baritone voice from behind me bellows. I spin around as quickly as my muscles will allow me too, and draw my pistol… wait where's my pistol?
The voice came from the shadows made by the open barn doors."It's on the table over there but you won't need it while you are here. If I meant you any harm I'd have left you lying in the street where I found you." He then stepped into the light and I could now see who was talking to me. Before me stood the largest, oldest looking Indian, er… Native American, that I've ever seen. He stood at least 6'10" and had more cracks, bumps and lines in his features than a dried up river bed. A worn leather eye patch covered his left eye. Something emanated from him that gave me a since of peace but, set me on edge all at the same time. He must be where they got the idea for the wooden Indian statues. "I'm not that old kid-o, but I'm close." He chuckled in that deep voice.
"How… do you… know what I'm thinking?", I stammer.
"Ancient Chinese secret", he chuckled again. "You've been unconscious for almost three weeks. We've been taking care of you as best we could with the limited resources we have with us."
"We?”
"Gawh-gawh", came from the rafters above me. A crow sat high on a cross beam near a large hole in the wooden shingled roof to the left of me. Even from that far away I could see an unmistakable intelligence in its eyes.
The old Indian started coughing heavily as he made his way across the floor to a brick stove with a cook pot on it that I swear, wasn't there moments ago. My head started to hurt and I needed to sit down so I turned toward the table were my gun lay and I was shocked to see a golden brown coyote sitting in one of the chairs. Its eyes starred into me and for a moment I felt connected to… her. I stumbled and the connection broke like a door slamming in my face.
Man I've got to sit down. As I did she continued to study me with her eyes, I looked back into them but nothing happened this time. I feel like I'm losing my mind… more.
"Kitua can have that effect on people from time to time." He said as he sat down to my left and dropped a bowl of what looked like chili in front of me. "Eat up kid, you need to put some meat back on those bones."
" I guess I need to be saying thanks for finding me out there, if you hadn't I'd have died by now, which might have been a good thing if I had." The last part I let slip out so quietly that I didn't think he could of heard me but he did. "That would have been a shame" was all he said just as quietly as I had as he shoveled a bite of chili into his maw of a mouth.
My pistol sat in the middle of the table just a foot and half in front of me and I started to reach for it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the old man flick a quick glance at me and then the gun. I'm not sure why but I changed the target of my reach to grab the spoon sticking out of the bowl and awkwardly took a bite of the chili. "Wow, this is good!"I mumble.
"Not my best," he responded.
"Well it's the best I've had in a long, long time." My unease was waning with reach bite and I was getting that feeling of being home. Heh, home that would be something; to just go back to the way things were before the war fucked everything up.
"Who says you can't go home… who says you can't go back…" I hear Him sing from the back of my mind.
I almost jumped out of my seat, my heart skipped and I started to choke on the last bit of chili I had taken. He had been quiet for so long this time I had forgotten he was there slipping through the creases of my mind like a venomous snake in a still pond. He laughed at me but went quiet again.
"Yep, it can get to you every once in a while", he said as he looked at me from his empty bowl. "You want some more?"
"Maybe something to drink would be nice", I choked out.
"Well, there's water in the barrel out back if you want but, I've got this right here." He pulled his left hand up from underneath the table holding a weather beaten bottle of rum so old the label was etched in the glass, my mouth began to water. How long had it been since I'd had a drink, almost ten years? Has she been gone that long?
He poured three fingers worth into two tall glasses that he had produced with the bottle. They had sat upside down on top of the bottle like a crystal bell and chimed as he sat the bottle on the table.
"To new friends and past loves" he said raising his glass to his mouth. I hesitated only for a moment then took the glass in hand and put down half of it in one shot. It might as well have been water with how smooth it went down but the old man started coughing, doubling himself over where he sat at the table.
The coyote just sat there and watched us from her chair across from me.
"I'm getting too old and I'm too tired these days to do anything about it", he spat out between the coughing. "This world's gone to Hell and there used to be a day when I would have stepped out that door and stopped it but, I don't have the strength anymore, Jack. War is a young man's game. I tried to steer events to a more favorable outcome but, that old road to Hell is paved with good intentions isn't it?" his coughing cut him off again.
I looked at him with a skeptical eye and blurted out, "How long you been out here on your own like this old man? And how'd you know my name?"
He stopped coughing, sat up straight, poured himself half a glass of rum, shot it down in one gulp, looked me right in the eye with his one good one and said, "Too long and you talk in your sleep." He slammed the glass back down on the table and got up. "I'm going to take a nap. Try to make yourself useful since you're awake now and go get some wood for a fire tonight." With that he slowly made his way from the table to one of the hay beds in the corner. He groaned as he lay down and I swear the ground groaned with him. I looked at the rum bottle to see if the rum inside was rippling from the vibrations in the ground but the bottle was full. I know we drank at least half the rum. My head started to hurt again.
"Take Kit-", he started to cough, "Kitua with you." Then he started to snore.
I looked from him to the coyote and she jumped down from the chair and headed out the door. When I didn't immediately follow her she stepped back in the doorway and barked once at me then turned and headed further outside.
"Great another female telling me what to do", I grabbed my pistol, slipped it back in my holster and headed out the door to go get some wood for a fire but, I was startled as that crow swooped past me out the door with the ringing of “Gawh-gawh” left in its wake.
My head ached from all the weirdness of the last hour.
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