Chéri

Ch.1: Any Port in a Storm

The day was warm and sunny, and the air was awash with the sound and smell of springtime. Budding trees lined the streets. Barbados lilies sprouted up from patches of grass. Bird's chirping mixed with the clatter of carts on cobblestone to form a wonderful array of sounds. Ovens sparked with firewood. Fresh-baked bread was set out onto the counters of shops. By all metrics, it was a wonderful day. But still, Jackson Pretter couldn't find it within him to be happy.

"Ah, cheer up," said his brother, Thomas, "Your mopey expression's not doing either of us any good."

"I don't understand why we've got to do this."

Jackson and his brother were both alchemists. Though it might sound sexy to outsiders, it was absolutely rotten work. A full day of mixing piss with dissolved metals was never something Jackson particularly looked forward to.

"If we don't re-up on our patronage, we can kiss our house and savings goodbye," said Thomas.

Jackson ran his hands through his curly brown hair. "Ugggh, but don't you just hate having to grovel before that pretentious-"

"Lord Cornwallis!" shouted Thomas.

Sure enough, flanked by two of Port Royale's most elite guardsmen, was the Lord himself. He was clad in the full regalia of a proper British statesman, and he had more medals on his lapel than Jackson thought possible.

"Ah, if it isn't the brothers Pretter," said the Lord, "We had a meeting planned for later, did we not?"

"Yes sir," replied Thomas, "We were just heading to your estate actually."

"No need," said Lord Cornwallis, squinting at a piece-of-eight he was holding between his pointer finger and thumb, "We can meet here."

"Are you sure?" asked Thomas, looking around at the throngs of people passing by.

Jackson had his hands buried in his pockets and was nervously tapping his foot. He wasn't making direct eye contact.

"Yes, it will be quick," said the Lord, "I wanted to inform you gentlemen that your services will no longer be required by the city of Port Royale, under the authority of the King, his majesty, George IV."

Thomas gulped and tried to blink away the shock. "I'm sorry sir, I'm afraid I don't understand. Was it something we did?"

"It's more of what you haven't done," said the Lord, "You've been promising us results for months now, but with nothing actionable to show for it. I'm afraid that our investment in your little workshop is no longer one we can justify."

Thomas looked like he was about to seize up. Jackson quickly put an arm around him in case he was to fall.

"Good day to you gentlemen," said the Lord, before marching off with his guards in tow.

"Are you alright?" asked Jackson, nudging his brother lightly.

It was weird. Jackson was concerned for how Thomas was feeling, but he wasn't all that shaken up himself, even though it was both their livelihoods that had been thrown into disarray.

"I can't believe it," said Thomas, "What are we gonna do?"

"We'll find something, don't you worry," said Jackson.

Thomas sighed, and the two started back down the street from where they came.

A warm Ocean breeze rolled over the city, carrying with it the distinct taste of salt. Jackson looked out past the docks in the distance, with the massive trade ships moored there, and peered at the gentle waves of the Atlantic Ocean as they crested brilliantly in the light of the morning sun. He breathed in the salty air, and in imagining himself out on those wondrous waves, he felt oddly free. Untethered from the problems of their current situation, Jackson led his older brother back home.