8 The Day it Began

 

 

 

Whether it was the promise of food, the excitement of having newcomers in the town, or just his general demeanor, Meatball was not being subtle.  His antics had been noticed by enough gawkers that he was giving them a bit of a show now. He danced around the window as made faces, mocking them as they sat inside safe and warm with their families. 

SMACK

The sopping dish rag impacted the glass near enough to where Meatball was stationed to cause him to startle, but only increased the antics.

"Aww, come on," Kipper grumbled as he went to find something else to launch.  It probably wasn't worth the window to make the point he wanted to make. But only probably.

Selena had caught the commotion. "What's going on?"

"Those street kids are back again." He let sail another rag, this one smacking right where Meatball's head had been. Meatball gave a sly grin and waggled his tongue around. "That's it."

"Leave him," she slapped his paw. "He's out there - where he belongs. If he comes in, we'll see him out."

Kipper soured, but business was business. He shifted his body back to the newcomers first, but they waved him off - no drinks needed yet. Still annoyed, he glanced around the bar, and shuffled down to the cellar for stock.

Meatball had vanished for the time being.

 

Chive was still smiling away, and Magnolia had a dreamy look about her.  There was no overt concern about what had just happened.

"Don't seem to worry too much about kids here, do you?" Mrs. Trufflebottom asked of them.

Chive sighed. "Don't misunderstand. There's plenty of kids here. We care about them all." He waved his arm around the room. "But there are a couple that prefer to steal from us instead of accept the help offered."

"I'm sure they would all have homes here in minute if they wanted it,"  Magnolia added.  "They just prefer life on the streets for now."

 "It looked like the kids weren't the only ones that didn't want it." Jacques slapped his paw down on the bar suddenly.  "Kindel! You'd started telling a story about him. I'd like to hear the rest."

"Oh I suppose.  A story like that will need...two rounds - each!" Chive winked broadly at his wife. She knew he was going to tell the tale anyway.  It had been far too long since they'd had new company and he certainly enjoyed spinning a yarn. 

"Alright, let's hear it then.  Kipper!  Six more...?"

 

"Sparkling Moonkites!"  Magnolia shouted down to him.  Those were her favorite.

"Six more!" Kipper's voice called back as he trotted back up the stairs. "Six more coming up. Uff, please tell me you plan to pay with *money* this time?"

Jacques slapped the coins on the counter once again.

Shaking his head, "Selena's gonna turn me into a doormat for this. Here ya go, six Sparkling Moonkites, on Kipper!"

Jacques took a sip and allowed the taste to play about his tongue for a moment.  This might become his favorite now too.  He shuffled in his barstool until he was comfortable.

 

"This isn't exactly a secret, everyone that's still alive in Outpost remembers that day."

 

"I thought you said only one person drowned trying to leave?

 

"That's correct."

 

***** 

 

Then.

 

Kindel slammed the door with enough force to splinter the wood.  Hannah was still on the other side.  He could hear her crying.  He stood in place, glaring at the door as if he had the power to see through to the other side.  As if by will alone he had the power to make her go back home.  

 

His will wasn't strong enough.  The crying continued unabated, and he was able to see a tear or two on the ground just on the other side of the door.  She must be right up against it. He remained listening, and watching as a single tear would fall away and reveal itself to him in the light by the floor.

 

In the battle of wills, it was his that broke first.  Resting his paw against the wood, he spoke through the door, "I'm leaving now.  I suggest you do the same."

 

"Wait, is she his wife or his sister?"  Jacques interjected.

"Don't interrupt, this is my story," Chive said, chuckling.  "Let's say 'lover' but more than that."

"This sounds like a story you of all people should relate to," Mrs. Trufflebottom admonished her husband.

Jacques scowled and sucked on his drink.  "Just keep going."

"Ahem."

 

Kindel had traveled to Outpost to find himself.  Hannah had traveled to find Kindel.  Unfortunately, these two things couldn't coexist.  He never expected, or wanted, anyone to follow him.  He didn't want to hurt her.  So, he just left her behind, assuming this would do the least damage.

 

"Just don't say it," Jacques said to his wife, reflexively half-hiding behind his beverage.  He felt a strange mix of shame and swishy intoxication.

 

The next day began with a confirmation that Hannah had not left Outpost like he had insisted.  In retrospect, this was the safer option, given how far from home they were.  Today he would find someone to escort her back home.  

 

Then, just before lunch, the day got strange.  At first he had assumed a bird had decided to use him as a dumping ground.  He was swatting at his shoulder to remove the offending liquid when he noticed several others in the street doing the same.  A closer examination of the ground revealed multiple droplets were hitting.  

 

It was raining.

 

Rain certainly wasn't unheard of in Outpost, but it was rather uncommon.  It was also in the peak of Dry season, further compounding the mystery its appearance.   With rain being only an afterthought in his mind, Kindel he pulled the back of his shirt over his head and ducked under an alcove.  Most folks were doing the same, remarking on this unusual occurrence.  Others were taking in stride, and enjoying a respite from the heat.   Magnolia and Chive, notably, were dancing together in the street across from him and splashing from puddle to puddle.  Holding hands they jumped together and stomped down, laughing at who could make the bigger splash.

 

"That's us!"

"We haven't had THAT many to drink, you know. Keep going!"

Magnolia smiled and stretched languidly.  "Oh he's just playing."

 

As he walked Kindel heard muttering however that this rain wasn't good at all.  It shouldn't be raining like this in Dry Season - this wasn't a good sign of things to come.

 

But one Rabbitfolk stood out amongst them all. And she appeared ready and dressed for the rain.  With an ashen grey hooded cloak pulled over her, Hannah skipped up to Kindel.  "I'm not leaving."

 

If the rain had been an uncomfortable surprise, Hannah's appearance was only more so.   "Are you kidding?  It's not safe here!  This is a mining town."

 

She snorted.  "This is a resort!  Besides, from what I see, I'm the only one here that knows how to dress for the weather.  Maybe I need to protect you, big fella."

 

She shoved him playfully.   He ground his teeth.  "I don't need protecting. And you can't stay here."

 

"Why?"

 

"I told you why."

 

"No.  Say it.  Say that you don't want me here."

 

Kindel's face contorted in a pained wince.  "It's not that, Hannah.  You know it's -"

 

"Right it's not Hannah, it's Kindel."  The rain had turned to downpour.  There was no graceful exit from the alcove for Kindel.  Hannah continued, "You have to go find you.  Well, I've already found you.  So it sounds like maybe you need me on your journey.  Besides, I did travel all this way. Maybe I'll just hang around a bit."

 

Kindel wanted to say so many things.  Wanted to argue.  He was pretty sure he did.  "Fine."

 

"Good. I'm also going to hug you - right now.  Do you need to close your eyes first or can you get through this part?"

 

His immense paw scooped her in. He pressed her against his chest.   "Just stop talking."

 

"It's okay to cry, you know.  My hood's still up; I won't even know it." 

"I'm not crying."

 

"Well I am."

 

He was, too. 

*****