Chapter 7: The Village

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CHAPTER 7

The Village

The silence went on as the two of them walked through the forest around them, with Fido trotting and sniffing at their sides. The sun moved further across the sky, but was blocked by the great canopy of leaves above their heads – protecting the two’s bare necks from the horrible curse of pink, peeling sun burn.

            “So whereabouts does your family name come from?” Simon asked, out of the blue.

“It’s Spanish I think,” Maleen replied, “I’m not entirely sure of my family’s origin; it’s never really interested me that much...But, what about you? How was your childhood? What was life like for you, as a kid?”

“Not much to say, really,” He answered, his smirk vanished from his face in a blink, “my father was a drunk. So much so that he drank himself to death; killed his liver. I was young then – could hardly remember him after he’d gone. Sad really, but I didn’t mind. He’d never been there for me. As for my mother, well…after my father died she got anger issues and beat me just because she felt like it. After that I ran away and never saw her again. I’m glad really. She made my life a misery.”

“That’s horrible,” Maleen whispered in shock.

“Nah, not really,” Simon had his stride back and was looking directly ahead, walking perhaps a little too fast than necessary, “I lived better after that. Away from the violence of her, I got a job, earned some money, met a girl and then got taken away from her. So, we agreed to meet somewhere. I’ll see her again, though...So, you see? No sadness at all...the scars still remain, however...”

Maleen wasn’t sure what to say. Simon had told her that there was no sadness, but she still felt the need to comfort him. If she was in his shoes, she would expect at least a few words to make her feel a little better. But what to say to him?

“I’m sorry,” Was the only answer she could come up with that seemed to fit the situation. She looked at Simon as she said it, but he didn’t look back at her.

“Don’t be,” He said, “in some ways I deserved it.”

“Well…” Maleen began, but she couldn’t finish her sentence. How could he have deserved those scars? He had only been a boy when he got them. And were they emotional or physical scars?

“You deserved them?” She asked.

“In a way, yes,”

Why?”

Simon slowed his pace a little and looked at her.

“I’d rather not say,” He said in a low voice, “Some things should be left where they are – understood?”

That had silenced Maleen. It reminded her of her previous thoughts – about Leroy.

“Where along the way did you become a pirate?” She asked, moving away from the subject of scars.

“Not long after I met your father,” Simon sighed, “he got away, leaving me there. The men weren’t happy that I had just let him run off though – they had some real problem with him – they handed me into to the East India Trading Company for ‘associating with a pirate’; they branded me, and threw me in a jail cell. I escaped a few days after that though – they really should take better care of their prisoners...”

“How did you escape?”

“The same way we did – I picked the lock using my knife and whatever else I could find and just…ran.”

Ran. The word created a strange picture in her head – of Simon running frantically, but with a smile on his face. He was being chased by a marine, but he still seemed hysterical. The picture made Maleen smile slightly – it would have been so funny to watch.

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