SHEOL

8

I hadn't been in his camper very much after when he'd first taken my mother and I under his wing. It still smelled the same, like raw meat and cabbage, although it was a bit cleaner than I remembered. It was still cluttered, but I was almost certain that he had tried to tidy the place up before my visit.

"It was quite a sight last night, Toby." He said as he set the pot of water onto the camping stove. "We all knew it was bound to happen sooner or later though."

I rested my feet on the booth seat across from me. "I'm just hoping that nobody tells the police of my whereabouts."

Mr. Moonshine glanced over to me. "I wouldn't worry about it, kid. After all, Bunny made it clear at that bonfire a while back that if anybody mentioned anything about you, she'd kill them."

"Well, it's not much of a threat now. She's already dead." I sighed. I hated depending on people for things, especially if it were the difference between life and death.

"I called all of the people I knew and warned them about the situation. I also went to the houses of the ones whose phone numbers I didn't have. I think they'll all comply knowing how dire the situation is."

It was nice to know that Mr. Moonshine cared. He seemed to care about everyone in Slab City, and made it a point to get to know all of the residents. He was almost like a mayor, except he wasn't corrupted.

He walked over to me with two Styrofoam cups in his hand. "I hope Oolong is okay."

"Yeah," I answered lost in thought.

He sat down across from me and sighed. "So, kid. How did you make it over here without being caught? There's more cops here than I can remember in a long time."

I took a sip of the leaf water and explained everything from watching infomercials to hiding in the cellar to the gunshot. That's where he stopped me.

"Toby, you don't seem very sad for a kid who just experienced her mother killing herself." Mr. Moonshine said almost inquisitively.

I finished my tea and looked at him. His face was burnt and worn, but his eyes were very much alive. His white beard was wet with droplets of Oolong that had escaped from the corners of his mouth. "Crying isn't going to bring her back." I finally said. His face was surprised. "It was her own fault for getting us into this mess. I can't do anything about it."

Mr. Moonshine grabbed my hand. "Don't say such things, Toby. I know you've had to grow up too fast, but you can still have a positive outlook on your future."

I leaned back. "There's not really a point. Pardon my French, but this world is more fucked up than Ed Gein. Well, maybe not that bad, but still. Things are only going to get worse. I'd rather just sit back and watch it burn than die trying to change it."

Mr. Moonshine crossed his legs and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's a shame you've already given up so quickly. You're a brilliant girl, you have the power to learn from your mothers' mistakes and make a difference."

I didn't see how I could. I was just a small, insignificant piece in this vast universe. I didn't come from riches, I didn't have any 'magical powers'. I was merely a sixteen-year-old girl who just witnessed her mother die only hours ago.

"I'm not special." I finally blurted out.

Mr. Moonshine stared at me. "Well, neither am I."

I closed my eyes. "No, only special people can make a difference in this world. I'm not special, and don't pull that 'everyone is special in their own way' bullshit because I've heard that lie a thousand times."

"Think about it, Toby. Martin Luther King was a middle child, and struggled with depression for years. He even attempted suicide, but look at him. He made a difference."

"Yeah," I debated. "But he was the son of a pastor. I'm the bastard daughter of a dead criminal."

"Kid, look at me." Mr. Moonshine said. "You don't have to be born from greatness to achieve greatness. That's not how it works. Making a difference in the world is like baking a cake. You have to add all of the ingredients before you come out with the finished product. It doesn't matter if the eggs in that cake came from Kentucky or Maine, as long as they're not spoiled. It doesn't matter if you come from a preacher or a drug dealer, as long as you're willing to make a change."

"Whatever," I blurted from my angsty teenage mouth. I understood where he was coming from, but it just didn't seem like I was 'worthy' enough. I may have just been full of self loathing and doubt, but it seemed to me that some angel was supposed to fly down from the sky and tap me with their magic wand and tell me what to do. That would have made things a hell of a lot easier.

"Mr. Moonshine?" I asked as he stood up and threw our cups away. "Why do you care so much about everyone?"

He walked over to the sink and swept the curtain that covered the kitchen window aside. I could still vaguely see a commonwealth of people scattered around my old trailer. "Well, kid, it's because I'm kind of like you. I'd given up on myself a long time ago, back when the police were still hot on my tail. I was down on my luck and thought that it'd be best just to forget the world and die. That's when I found this dump." He pointed out the window. "The Slabs saved me kid, so I decided to give back. I may not be a superhero and I may not mean anything to anybody-"

"You mean something to me!" I exclaimed.

He smiled. "Exactly. You don't know whose lives you've touched until, well, they tell you. You have to give back, Toby. This world is going to go down the shitter unless you do something about it."

Sadly, he was right. I hated depending on people so maybe it was a good idea to do it myself.

I changed the subject. "Mr. Moonshine, I haven't slept all night. I don't mean to trouble you, but could I please take a nap somewhere?"

"Yeah, sure." He pointed to the loft that sat above the drivers' seat of the camper. "Do you remember sleeping here before?"

"Vaguely." I yawned. I did remember being cramped up there for a little over two weeks with my mother. Now, it was just me. I crawled up the ladder and flung my backpack to the edge of the bed. "Thanks, Mr. Moonshine."

He flicked on the television and sat down on a couch that appeared to be from the seventies. "Not a problem, kid. It's what your mother would have wanted."

I drifted into a light doze, pondering the thought of changing the world. I didn't really have any special abilities, but I guess that didn't matter. What mattered more than anything else was figuring out how to get out of Slab City. I was the new pesky mouse, even though the tom cat didn't know I existed.