The Bitter Truth

Chapter 1 ~ The Hungry Boy

The heart of Endepur was a haunting sight, perpetually cloaked in a dense, ominous layer of dark, ashy smog. This shroud seemed to stretch endlessly across the horizon, casting a foreboding pall over the entire city. 

The air itself was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and pollution, saturating every breath with a palpable heaviness that seemed to weigh down upon anyone who dared to venture outdoors.

As far as the eye could see, the landscape was dominated by towering buildings that reached into the murky atmosphere, their outlines barely visible through the haze. Throngs of factory smoke rose like ominous pillars, further adding to the desolate and suffocating vibe of the city.

Arliss was finished with his morning shift and about to head to the dormitories for a midday nap and lunch. He pulled the bandana from his nose and mouth, allowing himself a breath of outside air rather than the thick, dusty remnants of the mines.

As he made his way around a corner of the old, dilapidated building, sidestepping over broken machinery and its scattered pieces, his gaze suddenly landed on a striking sight: a thin, grimy boy walking across his path.

The child's terrified eyes grew wide as saucers, and he whipped his head around before bolting behind a crumbling stone wall.

Arliss thought nothing of it. Nowadays, many hungry people, including children, roam the streets. It was actually becoming a problem—so much so that a new orphanage was said to be soon constructed closer to the bigger cities.

He kept on his journey, splashing through rainbow puddles, a mixture of oil, fuel, and rain merging and saturating the streets. But as his trip progressed, the feeling of eyes on him accompanied every step.

Whirling around, he caught sight of the boy again, quickly hiding behind a broken-down vehicle.

"I see ya!" Arliss bellowed, making sure he still had his stash of credits in his pocket.

With his precious belongings clutched tightly, he hurried away, stealing anxious glances over his shoulder. As the chase intensified, he veered around a sharp corner. He slipped into the darkness, concealing himself and waiting for the pursuer child to move past.

He heard the steps approaching and held his breath, waiting for just the right moment.

As the clueless boy closed the distance between them, he sprang out, gripping his bony shoulders and sending them both toppling and rolling into the filthy ground.

Arliss gained his bearings and advantage. Ending up on top, he held the boy down, snarling, "Why ya following me?! Whatcha want?!"

The boy didn't answer; he just gasped for air and stared into his soul with his glossy brown eyes. Arliss could tell now that he was probably in his puberty years and was smaller from lack of food. He was surprisingly strong, and despite his malnutrition, his muscles could still be seen on his lean frame. The sight of this vulnerable, undernourished boy stirred a wave of sympathy within him.

"Whatcha want, boy?" Arliss asked again, a lot calmer.

"I-I'm...I'm sorry..." was all the boy muttered.

"You ain't done nothin' yet, boy, ain't no need to apologize. But I got a hankerin' ya was out to rob me. Wasn't ya?"

The boy shakily nodded his head, "I ain't ate in days, Mister... My papa took off and left me all alone..." His voice trembled with desperation.

Arliss sighed dramatically and rose to his feet, then offered his hand to help the boy up. Who took it and shook the dust off his rear end.

"How long ya pa been gone?" Arliss asked, adjusting the brim of his stetson hat.

"Good couple weeks, mister... he leaves all the time but is usually back by now."

"And ya ma?"

The boy hung his head, "Dead..."

"Any other family?"

"No, sir..."

Arliss glanced around and placed his hands on his hips. "I can't be handin' food out for free, ya hear?... Especially at your age, you're nearly a man. Ya gots to earn it."

"I can work, mister!" the boy chirped up enthusiastically, quickly raising his head, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes.

"Well, ain't no good work ever got done on an empty stomach. I get ya some grub just this once. Then you're by my side in the mine, earning ya keep. Deal?"

A grin painted across the boy's face as he held out his hand to shake, "That's a sound deal, Mister. I won't be no trouble."

"Better not be, sonny. I don't take kindly to thievin', sassin', foolishness, or laziness. Ya step out of line, I'll tan that hide black and blue, then send ya on ya way. Ya hear?"

The boy gulped as his eyes grew wide. "I-I...I hear you, Mister..."

Arliss's weathered, calloused hand gently rested on the boy's shoulder, guiding him through the jagged path until they finally arrived at a gritty, shabby warehouse. The dimly lit mine dormitory they entered was adorned with rows of worn bunks, tools, and lockers that belonged to the unmarried men who toiled in the hazardous depths of the mines.

In the far corner, a cook had prepared a heaping pot of beans accompanied by some stale, crusty bread. The aroma filled the dim space, creating a warm, comforting atmosphere in stark contrast to the harsh conditions they endured.

Arliss counted his credits, discovering he only had enough for one serving. Handing it over, he collected his meager portion of lunch, and to the surprise of the others with blackened hands and faces from the morning's work, he selflessly passed it to the boy at his side. The act of kindness sent murmurs and whispers through the room as the men exchanged puzzled glances at Arliss's unexpected generosity.

As the boy eagerly gobbled every bite, Arliss asked, "Whatcha ya name, boy?"

"Ronny, sir," he replied mid-slurp of the bean's broth.

"Fellas, this here is Ronny!" Arliss announced loudly, garnering the attention of the other men in the warehouse. "He'll be helping us in the mines at my side. Give him any trouble, and you'll hear from me. Hear?"

A ripple of "Aye's," grunts, and a handful of "Hey, Ronny!" "Welcome to the team!" rang out in the warehouse.

Ronny cast his eyes around, carefully absorbing every aspect of his surroundings. As he did, he felt a swell of emotions in his heart—gratitude, hope, and a touch of disbelief. Finally, he had something concrete to hold onto: a reliable person, a soft bed, and a meal to fill his empty stomach. To a poor, heartbroken boy, he had the whole world at his fingertips.