Standing silently on the footstep of my last hope, Melbourne's home, I suck in a shallow breath and hold my ribs carefully with my free hand. The rain had decided upon mercy a few minutes before and ceased its relentless onslaught on the streets, leaving everything soaked and dripping from the previous battle. Glancing up at the now darkening sky, I let my eyes glaze over at the foggy hints of pink, yellow and blue lights seeping into the clouds of night.
The sky here is so different than one I watched every night on the Qubæ...
The sound of locks breaking from their positions snaps me from my thoughts, and I hold my breath as the creaky old black door grunts open. I was half expecting a sweet, plump old lady with rosy cheeks to answer and immediately let the poor, frozen stranger on her doorstep into her house.... But of course, when had anything really gone my way in Nukaro.
Standing wedged in the doorway, wearing brown slippers, red lobster printed boxes, a white t-shirt and a fuzzy robe is a man with the most greased back hair I had ever lived - so far - to witness. Wearing thick square spectacles then encompass near the whole of his unshaven face, the man standing in the doorway clears the mucus from his throat and leans forward to spit it on the pavement, inches from my foot.
Having no control of my frozen and sore facial features, my jaw drops an inch in utter shock. Eyes still swollen from the rain, drop from the man's face to the bomb by my foot; something that would have nearly given me a heart attack had it actually landed square on.
"Um..." I find myself stuttering, looking up once more.
"What the hiej do yah want?" The man snaps, leaning against the doorframe which only accentuated the pot belly hidden beneath his shirt.
Swallowing, remembering the near miss and instantly regretting the action, I swipe the bang of white hair from my eyes.
"I-I need a place to stay."
The man snorts, his eyes bulging through the glasses to take in my soaked clothing, swollen jaw and bandaged nose.
"I can see that yah blood cha'gin. Question is, whatta yah have to pay?"
Immediately my brow furrows, no one had said anything about having to pay.
"Um . . . I - uh..."
At my stammering, the man releases a guffaw and slaps his knee, flashing me to the bald spot and mountain of dandruff atop his head. I wince and look away, knowing another sight like that and the two bowls of baka I ate hours before would be sprayed onto the walkway along with the mucus bomb.
"Just jokin' I am!" The man crows. "I have a place, don't you worry."
A wave of relief floods my bones and my shoulders slump from their tense position. The man nods, obviously pleased with the small hustle he had pulled. Outplacing a thick hand, he grins with a row of plaque filled teeth and winks.
"Names Arlo. Arlo Stroeh and you are?"
Regretting it instantly, I take the man's hand and shake firmly, fighting the chattering in my teeth as I say.
"Amsterdam . . . Just Amsterdam."
~
The clattering of footsteps on wood slowly bang against my subconsciousness, the rhythm a mix of both body movement and voices. Peeking one eye open, my vision clears enough to see several pairs of small faces peering from over the edge of the cot Arlo had given me the night before. The padded slat with a thick pillow and a fuzzy blanket had been near heaven, and even though there was no hot water to take a shower, I had barely made it up the stairs to even care before I collapsed, shoes still on my feet.
"Hehehe," the faces giggle, their little fingers gripping the edge of the cot.
Groaning, I lean up on an elbow. At my movement, the three children squeal in excitement and dash from my their poor hiding place across the small room and out the doorless frame. Finding a smile spread across my face, I crack my neck and sigh at the satisfying sound of air bubbles popping. Swinging my sore legs over the side, I sit up sorely and clutch my ribs. A sharp smell of wood - pine - fills the air of the empty room and several rays of warm sunshine streak from a shaded window down by an adjacent wall. Looking away from the sunlight, my eyes fall on a neatly stacked pile of clothes placed ever so politely at the foot of the cot and I smell.
Finally, things are looking up.
YOU ARE READING
Grey Horizon
FantasíaA ship has just arrived in the famous port city of Nukaro, the capital of Aegeus, and in its hull, is the last hope for all the realms of Valen. The only problem? He doesn't know it yet. Comments are welcome and encouraged!
