A Savage Life

Chapter 7

As I walked through the splintery, creaky, almost-tipped-on-top-of-me, somewhat archy entrance, I saw shacks as big as a large garbage truck that looked like a slight breeze could destroy them, the lawns and roadways were only a thicket of potholes and dirt, and the only real buildings were the motel and a market that looked like a Walmart that was burned down by an angry riot of dissatisfied customers.

People as pale as vampires peeled out of their houses to watch me walk down the road. Some had a scowl, some sympathetic, others just stared blankly. I've never felt comfortable with eyes on me, but their eyes only made me walk stiffer, my composure threatening to leave me as my adrenaline played jump rope with my heart. Quickly, I scanned around and found a place to escape their eyes. I walked to the musty motel, some four miles across town, and stepped upon the creaky, hole-filled steps that was my red carpet to the worn, nearly broke-in door crawling with some Katydid/Mantis hybrid that made my skin crawl as I knocked on the door. I heard a man's voice call me, and are, once again, blinded by lights as I stepped inside.

"Can I help you sir?" asked the male voice again. As soon as the lights stop blinding me, I got a good look at the man. He had dark hair, with a dark mustache and pale blue eyes, the biggest smile I've ever seen, and have ever had put me on edge, and his clothing looked like he'd just popped out of a haute couture magazine of the 1940s.

"Where am I?" I asked him warily.

The man responded concurringly, his smile dropping only a little, "You are at the Desperado and Fox Inne."

"No, I mean, what is this whole place?" I pressed.

"You're not from around here are you?" asked the man with a raised brow.

"No I am not." I sighed impatiently.

"Welcome to the Outskirts, a land where survival skills are necessary," said the man as if he'd just won the lottery. "Currently, you are in the town of Ferris. I'll offer you a room for free tonight, but every other night you must pay an approximation of $150.00. Tomorrow, if you are looking for transportation or citizenship of Ferris, talk to Mayor Candell."

This was helpful, but Ferris reminds me of Farris, my youngest son. He was always an eccentric young boy. I miss him so much, as well as my other children. And Lana. My sweet, sweet Lana.

I soon found myself being led upstairs to my room with the man blabbering on about his weird obsession with Mayor Candell and his daughter, and about eating pasta at midnight in the shower and a lot of other weird things that made no sense, and how big he smiles, which struck a nerve because I thought of this even more, and I said this out loud too (As an intentional accident), "Is everybody here in a smiling contest of some sort that I don't know about?"

The man turned around with a grim smile and replied, "Oh sir, I did not mean to adhere to your alarm. It is protocol of all business personnel, and not citizens, to have "Service with a Smile" according to the 560th amendment to the Rewritten Constitution." Well, at least he was honest about it. "Rewritten Constitution?" I asked slowly. And immediately I could tell by the man's face that he was beginning to pick up on the fact that I was somewhere I didn't belong. Not good.

"What colonized planet are you from?" he asked.

I looked at him in disbelief and sputtered, "What?"

If any questioned had ever weirded me out, that was the answer.

He peered at me closely, as if trying to make something click in his mind, never once dropping the smile, never once unfurrowing his eyebrows. He sighed and gave me a list of races, "Are you the Derzzal from Jupiter. The Ice-Monds from Saturn, or the Taslites from Pluto, or are you from one of the human colonies?"

"Let's just say I'm one of those nomadic wanderers." I answer, and immediately the guy backs off the alien thing and gives me the most curious look ever. Not one of studying, just of curiosity. I felt compelled to tell him that it's not best to make friends with me, but withdrew from the idea. He eventually explains deeper about why he smiles and the way things work around here, which lead into a history lesson about The Constitution.

Apparently the Declaration of Independence and Bill of Rights were on purposely destroyed because George Washington and John Adams had no idea what they were talking about and newer, more perfect amendments had to be made. So they made them while ostracizing our forefathers who built this country and writing down random responsibilities like smiling at people in the creepiest manner possible and that hairdressers are assaulting their clients if they pull on their hair, or taking into literal account that customer's never lie, and haggling is illegal because you are trying to steal from the wise, or my personal favorite: "Anyone attempting or pertaining to illicit any criminal behavior must bear a smile whilst doing so. Failure to comply is an automatic death sentence."

So when I rob a guy on a subway, I better darn well look like the Joker or else pay the consequences.

"One last thing, may I have your name?" I asked. I don't know why I asked, it's just that I felt that I needed to know for no particular reason I can even think of. Even I myself am shocked that I even asked such a thing. I've never been known to be the sociable type.

"Sabine Ducklan." the man answered. I shook his hand and he opened the door with a bent in key that looked ages beyond ancient. I stepped into my room and closed the door, a bit stunned at what I saw:

My room was basically a yellow, moldy toilet and an old, holey mattress crawling with dust and a thing, see-through, moth-ridden blanket with an old, beat-up crate as a nightstand. The room was collaborated in dirt, and the only light there was was a small lamp that sat in a lonely corner, surrounded by spider webs for company. It wasn't much, but it was somewhere to rest. I just hoped Sabine wouldn't give me away, doing his, "Service with a Smile" Rewritten Constitution thing.

In the morning, I had to thank the man, as he did, after all give me a place to stay, even if he might be a traitor. And that thought made me wonder why I even closed the door. Sabine didn't lock the door immediately as I was free to come and go as I pleased. Then again, he might be waiting for me to go to sleep so that way he can shut the door and lock me in there until the authorities come. And it was this suspicion that caused me to explore for any easy way out of my room if I had too. There was none. There was no window, or wobbly brick piece, or dirt under the bed, so it was basically just an old cement cell block.

I paced a little; thinking of what I would do tomorrow and what to do tonight should something happen while I was asleep. Nothing came into my tired mind. A little rest will do, so I gave myself a little relief and went to bed. Then I don't know what came over me, but as I laid onto the bed, I fell unconscious with thoughts of my family dancing in my head. I wanted home, and I would find a way, oh I would. Then I realized that these thoughts were a cold comfort. And then they turned nightmarish.