Good Morning Mr Auric

Chapter 3 ~ Foundations To A Story

Silence is the best reply to a fool,
Especially one as smart as
Yourself.

- Matt

Oh

My

God.

Did it just- was I just saved by a mech? I struggle to understand the situation when I feel the weight of a coin pouch in my hand and pushed towards the big boss,

"Looks like we've got ourselves an awkward situation. we'll accept the money, but we want double next time," he meets my eyes and steps back towards the North slums. "See ya around, kiddo..."

I watch as their empowering silhouettes fade into the midst of the alleys and smoke, all that's left of them is a chill in my spine and an ache I my bones. The city square atmosphere hits me like lightning, surrounding me in busy streets and blaring performances. I spin, round and round like a carousel, trying to remember. A sound, an action, anything. All that comes to mind is clink, clank, clink, clank, clink-

The mech!

Still dizzy from the surreal experience, I frantically search for the rusty bucket. Keep in mind this is almost impossible with all the different displays, especially the moving ones like the acrobats and the merchants. I begin to lose hope in my search through the ever shifting crowd ; walk home like nothing happened, pretend it was just a figure of my imagination but every time I open my eyes, all I can see is the rusty bucket. My legs weigh me down on my way home, fumbling their way across the cobbled streets and crooked corners whilst my shoulders feel much lighter without the pressure of the rent.

At least I think I've paid off the rent...

What if I had a nervous breakdown in the crowd and imagined it happened and I've gotta go home to a bloodied hole in the wall, belongings thrown and smashed and-

No. That did happen. The boss' presence still lurks in my head along side the clanking of the rust bucket and the smoothness of the leather pouch in my hands, I don't know what such fine leather feels like, after all. I know it happened. I've just gotta get my head around it.

As home comes into view, I thankfully notice that it's not wrecked and slow my pace. Everything's fine, for now at least.

"Harry stole my bread!" Harriet screeches, pointing her finger to declare war.

"You weren't eating it!" Harry retaliates, pointing his finger to accept her challenge. Second meal always has a scuffle. It's a pain in the neck not only because I have to deal with it but also because I get an earful from old man Joe.

"Oi!" Speak off the devil. The door bangs until I open it wide, cautious to not get hit by his stick. He's already begun his lecture before he's even stepped in.

"Yes, I'm sorry for the racket old man Joe."

" 'I'm sorry' ain't gon' cut it! At least tell me you're safe from the big boss, i don't wanna have ta listen ta that as well. " he groans whole-heartedly.

I remember what happened today and half-heartedly answer,

"Yeah... I think. Some original version rust bucket saved my -"

"Wait!" The old geezer springs from his gloom, shifting to slight fear. "Did the rust bucket have 'MATT' on its chest? Like red ink?" He demands hastily. I've never seen old man Joe like this before and begin to consider ending the guy's days. Either way, I can remember some red smudge on its heart.

"Y-yeah, why would it matter anyway?" I stutter. "Your creppin' me out, Joe." I signal for the others to go upstairs.

Hectic silence hangs in the air while the old man contemplates between answering or retiring to his hole in the wall. Creaking from upstairs startles me. I know it's only the bed but the anticipation is ruining my mind. Joe had other thoughts though.

"Never worry." He hobbles off back upstairs, the cold night air seeping though my skin. He turns to leave but turns back, facing me one last time. "Just... Be careful, Ryder." He closes the door behind him. Never once in my life has Joe said my name, even my siblings'. The last time I heard a name from his lips,

My father was dead.