11 We do it all - Together.

 

 

 

 

 

The unlikely group shuffled street to street, with Luca at the helm and Scarlet watching their rearguard.  Meatball was ever about, roaming between buildings and alerting the crew of possible movement in advance of trouble.  As it was they ran into no one except empty streets and flowing waters.  The routine was so fluid and natural Jacques assumed this must be how they always traveled, and why they were seldom seen.  

A bittersweet skill.   Every peer around a corner, every cautious wave forward, was an effort to keep them apart from society.  It kept them safe and homeless.   If Kindel was entertaining any such deep thoughts, he wasn't sharing them.  Stomp-by-stomp he trudged in silence.  Allowing the youth to take care of the lookout needs, he was providing an unspoken menace to anyone that would have tried to interfere with them.   

As they arrived at a home on the edge of the town it was clear that somehow these homes had taken the brunt of the storm. Years of missed repairs shown here in comparison to the housing they'd been used to so far in Outpost.  Boards had been ripped free and dangled precariously.  A large flow of water was streaming unimpeded through the center of one, and another was missing the roof entirely as it if it had just blown off.   These structures used to be 'homes,' but looked long since forgotten.   

Luca scurried around the perimeter of the yard, quickly surveying for any dangers Meatball may have missed, and waved them forward as she crept toward the backyard. "Come."

Meatball trotted to her, and together they lifted a rusted metal basement door.   Jacques braced for the inevitable creaking, but any sound it made was lost into the rain.  Luca beckoned them down with a cock of her head as she lit a torch beneath the shelter of the house.  "Come on now.  Close those doors behind you; we don't want any company."

Tenderly, they went paw in front of paw following her, with Scarlet descending last and closing the doors.  As they came to the end of a a long dirt hallway, a barrier of hanging beads separated them from the from what lay ahead.  The light from the torch cast strange shadows between the beads, illuminating slivers of the room.  It didn't look like where where they had played marbles before, with the large basins.  It looked like a living area.  

Luca braced herself, and grabbed the beads by the pawful; pulling them to the side to allow entry.  "Welcome home."

Jacques and Mrs. Trufflebottom peered in.    It was more than a living area - it was a bedroom.  Three bedrolls were spread on the floor with accompanying pillows, and various other knick knacks.  

 

"Welcome home, indeed," said Mrs Trufflebottom, her voice just above a whisper.

Meatball shook his head.  "You wanted your friend's stuff back?  That meant we had to come here anyway to get it.  I still don't know about this, though; bringing them back here and all."

Luca was still holding both beads and torch, and her paws were shaking.  "I don't like it either, but we needed somewhere safe right now, and this is the only safe place in Outpost."

Kindel calmly set forward into the room and made himself a seat.  "You're right to be cautious.  But you're also wrong - I'm not sure there's anywhere in Outpost that is safe.  If you would please tell me the rules so we could begin?  And then we all need to get to safety."

As the game hadn't actually existed before they'd played, Jacques was curious to see what rules they would make up this time.  He was pretty confident it would be set up for Kindel to lose.  He was wrong.  The rules were the same, and as they made the circle with a large piece of string between the bedrolls, taking care not to disturb the carefully strewn detritus.

 

*****

The game had barely begun before Kindel had asked the question - what does Angel Marbles mean.  

"It was something we'd heard heard years ago, a folk tale, sort of," Luca took her shot and missed, rolling it forcefully all the way to the hallway.  She stood, annoyed, and went after it.

 

"The Angels want to help us but they can't see us.  So they put things out into the world hoping they're going to help us.  But by the time it reaches us it never looks right, and we don't understand it.  It basically means things happen we don't understand and it's because Angels are trying to help us but we just can't see them, so we get mad.  So when you put things out into the world you gotta make 'em good because you don't know who they're gonna bump into." Scarlet rolled her marble and with a satisfying crack sent one of Jacques' crimson marbles twirling towards his feet.  "So we are the Angels, putting out our good here, and these marbles just don't understand why we're doing it."

 

"Jacques' marble certainly didn't understand what you just did to it," said Kindel, increasingly amused and impressed by this normally taciturn Mousefolk.  "Are you the Angels?  Or are you the Marbles, with help being offered and you're mad because you don't understand it and you don't trust it?"

 

"Huh?  What's that supposed to mean?  What 'help' are you offering?  You're just telling us everyone was bad and that we should leave.  We already knew everyone was bad, and we've done just fine here - haven't we?" said Luca. 

 

Kindel lined up his shot, taking aim at one of Mrs. Trufflebottom's.  "Do you by chance remember who told you the story?"  The self-proclaimed Angel Marbles shook their heads.  "Pity.  So, Jacques.  You arrived here, you didn't understand it.  You two are kind of like Angel Marbles yourselves, aren't you?  What do you think you're here to do?"

 

Kindel's shot sailed clear past Mrs. Trufflebottom's tan marble and collided with one of Jacques' instead.  The deep mossy green orb spun free of the ring and came to rest up against his paw.  Tipping forward so that his glasses practically hung from his ears, his vision became consumed with that image.  It was not unlike something in nature, lush and verdant; entirely dissimilar to the endless storm and dreary skies of Outpost.

He would give his left paw run from this and never look back on Outpost.  He hated it here.  Yet as he stared down at the marbles against his toe, he knew the difference.  He could leave any time he wanted.  He could walk away and run and go back to a comfortable life.  These three kids didn't have that same luxury.  They had this room to look forward to.  And each other.

 

Angel Marbles.

 

 "I'm not leaving.  You're right - we kind of are Angel Marbles.  I don't know why we ended up here, but I know we aren't going to just walk away."

"What, so you can visit and play games with us when we're lonely?"  Luca pushed herself standing.  "Mr Jacques,  we don't -"

"Haven't you been listening to me?"  Kindel raised his voice as he stood, his full height even more terrifying in the tiny room.  "I said everyone's being poisoned.   Those two Squirrelfolk are controlling everyone in this town with salt in their drinks to keep them numb, and no salt left in their homes to bring in their business.  They'll smile at you because they have the luxury - they think they control you.  When then money runs out, you aren't their 'friend' any more.  Imagine if you gave away their secret and they lost the whole town."

"The kids aren't being poisoned.   They're the only safe ones here," Jacques retorted, turning his attention to Luca, "And if we stayed, I think we could figure something out. We're the outsiders anyway, there's no reason to suspect us.  We can just say the drinks made our tummies rumblies or something.  But we aren't going to just leave you.  So, would you consider making us honorary Angel Marbles?"

"No!"  Kindel snapped, slamming his hand on the ceiling and knocking free a generation of dust.  "Enough of the games.  I don't care if you stay together or apart, but we can't stay here here.  Just give me her stuff back, and let's leave.  Now."

Mrs. Trufflebottom stretched her paw to him.  "Come.  Hallway.  Let's talk.  Just us.  No one bother us, okay? We just need a moment."

He followed, possibly to argue and possibly because there was no argument left.

"Anyone wanna make a bet?  I'll put three biscuits on the Rabbitfolk," Scarlet quipped.  Jacques lowered his head. "What?  Kindel may be huge, but she looks like she's scary when she's mad."

*****

Then.

It was raining.

It was always raining now in Outpost, but tonight the clouds had really stepped it up.  Kindel slogged into Selena and Kipper's and shook himself off, fully saturating the coats hanging nearby.  Every night was the same now.  Bar opens.   Stomp in.  Slide in the same seat. Consume.  Ignore everyone.   Ignore everything.   Continue until the feelings passed.  Continue until his mind stopped seeing her falling.  

Leave the bar.  Repeat.

He stomped up to the bar.

"Same as ever, my sullen friend?" Kipper's cordial voice asked.

Kindel tapped the bar twice.   Yes.  No reason to speak if he didn't have to.  Kipper grabbed the order of another patron waiting, and hopped down the ladder to the cellar.  Kindel waited.  Waited.

Watched the rain on the window.   Followed a particular droplets on its journey.   Watched it race, faster than the others, rushing, would it make it to the bottom?  Would it make it in time?  Would it --?

His teeth gritted as he forced away the thought.  Sparrows take the rain, anyway.   He'd seen enough for this life.  It took his dream of Outpost, it took -

"Here ya go!  Put this on your tab, like the others?"

Tap tap.

"Perfect," the Squirrelfolk said without any sense of mirth.  He hopped back into the cellar, and Kindel returned to watching raindrops, trying to escape before the rest of the water could catch them.

------

Now.

Mrs Trufflebottom ushered him all the way back to the door.  She pushed her face close to his, and spoke quietly.   "You're up to something."

"Of course I'm up to something.  And it would be safer for all of you if you weren't here for it."

She looked into his eyes as if she could catch the secret hiding there.  "Physically, you're massive.  You have a home full of all sorts of gadgets you've saved when folks leave.  Pretty impressive - but I'm not sure how you're going to take on the whole town with that."

He shook his head.  "If you want to help me, help me get her stuff back.  That's the only thing I need."

 

Laughter suddenly chimed from the larger room, though there was no way they could have heard the discussion.  She pressed on.  "There's a room full of folks back there that trust you.  And clearly you trust them.  It's time to figure out who your friends are Kindel.  And your family." 

 

"I have neither.  I thought we were clear on that point."

 

"Well, someone told me a story recently.  And it gave me an idea."

 

 

"I think I know someone that knows salts better than any of us, a singer with an 'in' at the bar, two outsiders that can play dumb anywhere they go, and three brilliant kids that do know Outpost better than any of us.  Yes." Arching high on her toe pads she leaned close to his face and whispered to him, making certain no one could hear her plan.

*****

The two were hashing it out in the hallway far longer than it should have taken to calm down an upset Kindel.  Jacques was starting to fidget; first straightening his pants here and there, then shuffling to get comfortable.  His actions didn't go unnoticed. 

"They might be gone, you know," Luca stated bluntly.  "You heard him talking about leaving.  This is how it happens."

"You're wrong, Luca."

"I'm wrong?  What do you mean 'I'm wrong?' I'm pretty sure none of us got to be in this room by choice, Meatball."

"No, like - you're wrong.  They're back," Meatball was pointing through the doorway,  where their audience watched with mixed amusement and empathy.  The two had clearly not killed each other, and by outward appearances may not have even fought.  Scarlet was going to be out some biscuits.

"Oh." Nothing more really needed to be said. "Are we still playing?"

 

"Actually, we have an idea to discuss,"  Mrs. Trufflebottom said.  "Kindel needs Hannah's belongings back.  After that, we all have a choice: we can leave for safety, or we can stay and help."

 

 The Angel Marbles chattered quietly amongst each other, and ultimately it came down to one question:  "We'll go along with it on one condition.  You have to tell us what's in her backpack you want so bad.  We've already gone through everything; there's nothing valuable in there."

 

Kindel's response was interrupted by an inconvenient tear he needed to wipe away before he could speak.  He blinked.  "There's memories.  But more importantly, Hannah was probably the only Rabbitfolk that has ever set foot in Outpost.  And she always wore her traveling cloak."

Meatball shrugged.  "You know how this works.  We do it together."

 

Scarlet whispered, "The Rainy Rabbit?"