Alternatives

Chapter 11:Progress

February 1895, Coney Island

Walter stood behind the back door to the small patisserie, trying to enjoy his cigarette in peace. He had a lot on his mind, and a long day behind him, and was altogether reluctant to go out and show his face to the world.

The heavens seemed reluctant to grant him that mercy, as a small, pale young woman with ash-blond hair came out, carrying a large number of crumbs in her apron, and shook it out on the ground instead of in the trash. Walter suddenly realized why there were so many birds on this street as of late. He wondered if the other women in the pastry shop were alright with her doing that, or if they even knew.

She noticed him as she turned around, and pointed a strict finger at him. „Too young to smoke."

„I won't tell anyone if you won't", Walter grinned. „What's with the crumbs?"

She looked around sadly. „The birds are hungry."

„Aren't you?" Walt asked.

She sighed. „It's bad luck to let birds die in winter. Spring is silent, and summer is poor. No fruit. No wheat. Veles doesn't feed people who don't care for his creatures."

„Veles?" he raised his eyebrows. Walter's highly critical mind rarely had time for superstitions, but he was growing curious. The woman didn't seem eager to elaborate.

„Yes." She hurried toward the exit, stopping at the door. „Are you Walter?"

„I... am", he said slowly. „Why?"

„Your teacher left something for you, but you don't get it if you don't drop that disgusting thing", she pointed at the cigarette. She came back a minute later, waited stubbornly for Walt to throw away his cigarette, and handed him a napkin with two slices of cake. „Go now. I have work to do." Walter took the napkin and obediently scurried off, wondering when his day started going so well.

His lessons were going fine despite taking a horrible amount of his energy and patience, and he had to admit reading had become a tiny bit less of a nuisance. His mother would even ask him to read things for her out loud - she was nearsighted and didn't want to bother. He was catching up to the other kids, as teacher Alina made sure to keep her promise and question him loudly in front of the class instead of giving him written tests. She was good at it; on the surface, it seemed as though she was just as strict as before, even more so because she seemed to call his name all the time in class. Walter was thankful for it all. He didn't want to seem like some sort of teacher's pet all of a sudden.

He stopped in front of the construction site and sat on the most unassuming part of the pavement, eating his cake. His head and hands were cold already, but he didn't feel like going home yet. The bruises on his arms reminded him of what was waiting there.

„Hey, mister Demon", he said to the shadowy wall behind him.

„Hello, Walter", the wall replied. „What do you want?"

Walter shrugged. „I'm just watching them make the new park, in peace, like you."

Erik rolled his eyes behind him. So much about peace.

„Teacher Alina said you know how to make these", he pointed at the large Ferris wheel. „Yeah?"

„Yes." And I do wish she would stop reminding people of my existence.

„I'd like to visit it someday", Walter mused. „Looks fun."

„Tell Alina that. I'm sure she'll take you."

„No way", Walter said, suddenly annoyed. „I don't need charity. If I visit it, I'll take my damn self."

„Fair enough." Erik could very much understand the kid and would have felt bad for him if only he wasn't so annoyingly intruding in his own space. Walter sat in silence, finishing his snack.