Sweat and body oil once again streaked his vision. Rick rubbed his wire-framed glasses off on his grubby apron and groaned when he replaced them on his face and realized he had gotten them only dirtier. He headed toward his house, his world a greasy smear.
The young man didn't mind hard work; it was proof that he was trying his best to help his family. Taking care of and essentially running a poultry farm was no easy task, especially with an absent father, a sick mother, and a younger sister who didn't seem to understand or appreciate his efforts. Still, the exhausting day was over and he was eager to relax for the evening.
The door let out a loud creak as he opened it. Rick immediately forgot about his fatigue as he saw Popuri hopping around the living room, her pink curls bouncing in rhythm. His mother, Lillia, looked up from the paper she was reading. Her eyes shone like a pair of rubies, and he couldn't remember the last time she looked so alive.
"What's going on?" Forgetting how uncomfortable he was in sweaty clothes, he took a seat at the table, his entire body humming with anticipation.
"Dad wrote!" Popuri chirped, giving another bounce. "Start from the top, Mom!"
"Is he coming home?" Rick interrupted, his heart pounding in his chest with excitement. His voice had been much louder than he intended, but no one seemed to mind. After all, it was the question in everyone's thoughts.
Lillia could remain calm in any situation, but even now her trembling hands couldn't fool her children. "I just started reading. I'll start again:
Dear Lillia,
Just dropping a line to let you know that all is well. How has the farm been? I hope that the three of you are doing well yourselves. I just took a barge to the north and I've never seen so many people…"
"I wonder what kind of city he's in this time?" Popuri could hardly contain her excitement. "Ah, I wonder if he'll send us another souvenir sometime!"
Rick struggled to slow his excited breathing. Don't let yourself get carried away, Rick… You've heard this setup so many times before. Don't be a fool… Excitement quickly turned to anger at the injustice of it all, and he did his best to quell the sudden wave that rose in him. He bit his tongue to keep himself from telling his sister to be quiet so Lillia could keep reading.
"It might take a couple more weeks to get there, but I sent you some herbal teas and biscuits this region is famous for. Please enjoy them and think of me. I love you all and was hoping that I could make it home before too terribly long, but I have reached a dead end in my hunt…" Lillia's voice cracked.
Everyone's face dropped and the room fell silent at these words.
"I-is he…?" Popuri's voice was barely above a whisper.
"B-but there's nothing else to do but keep trying… It's like my grandfather used to say – 'There's always a solution if we look hard enough'." Lillia's voice was calm, but a trained ear could hear the agony in it.
Rick could hear nothing but the blood pulsing through his veins.
"I'll continue to search for the cure, my love. In the meantime, give Rick and Popuri kisses and hugs from me.
Wishing you the best,
Rod
You are always in my thoughts. Every moment of every day…"
Rick's vision became blurred by something else – his tears. He quickly wiped them away, his sweaty hands stinging his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he looked up to see Lillia carefully folding the piece of paper and returning it to the envelope, her face pale.
"Well, at least we have some yummy tea and biscuits to look forward to, right?" Popuri's smile was strained.
The room was eerily quiet as Lillia gave the envelope a soft kiss. "That's right. I'll make sure we get some fresh cream from Barley's farm so we can make it a real treat." A slight smile played at her lips, but the light was gone from her eyes.
Rick couldn't stand it anymore. He slammed his fists on the table and everyone jumped in surprise.
No one said anything in response, and it was in that moment Rick realized this was all they had. This was all his mother could thrive on: letters and empty promises, along with the occasional souvenir to keep them content. This did nothing to heal Lillia's illness. All it did was play with her ailing heart.
"Rick?" Lillia's voice was soft, pleading. He wondered if she was begging him to shatter the false hope they had surrounded themselves in, this strange fairytale they had created for themselves to cope.
No. He was not that cruel. It would kill her.
He said nothing as he stood up, his chair screeching loudly on the wooden floor. Even if he had words to say, he couldn't form them in his mind properly. "I'm going out." He didn't bother to push his chair back in.
"Ah, but I can make us some tea!" Popuri's voice was laced with desperation.
"There's still half a tin of shortbreads in the cupboard," Lillia replied softly. "We can perfect our tea for when… Rod's package arrives." The cheery smile on her face was so practiced at this point that it looked almost natural.
Popuri had already retrieved the biscuits and was filling the teapot. Anything was better than sitting still, after all.
Indeed, this was all they had. And he couldn't stand another moment of it.
"I had plans with Karen," Rick lied, hurrying out the door before anyone could stop him.
The sounds of ice clanking in glasses, the low music on the jukebox, and the din of conversation in the bar was a familiar, comfortable sound to him. His eyes spied a familiar head of silky brown hair seated at the bar. Rick dragged his feet to his friend and sat down on the bench beside her.
"Oh, you look like you could use something stiff." Karen raised her eyebrows at his disheveled appearance.
Rick ordered them both a pint and he jumped in surprise as Karen carefully removed his eyeglasses.
"Filthy," she scoffed with a slight laugh, swiping her napkin against the condensation on her half-finished cocktail and wiping his lenses clean. She grinned at the soft brown eyes that were hidden from the rest of the world behind his spectacles and her smile fell when she saw the hurt on his face. "Hey… what's going on, Rick?" She carefully put the glasses back on his face, a little surprised and disappointed he didn't slap her hands away, blushing fiercely as he usually did when he allowed her to clean his glasses.
His vision was now clear, but his mind was more muddled than ever. Again, he wasn't sure what to say, and he couldn't find the words.
"You get scratched or nipped by a chicken? I told you those talons were something fierce." She playfully turned his hands over in hers. Once more, she was met with silence. Rick was always quick to express himself, often when things went wrong. Karen frowned, giving his hand a squeeze. "Well, your hands look alright… dirty, though."
She damped another napkin and set to clean the grime off of his fingers. Rick sat in numbness, allowing her to coddle him, despite her gentle chiding as she did so.
She was acting like Lillia and Popuri. This false cheerfulness, he could hardly stand it. What had he been wanting, coming here? Sympathy? Was he really that pathetic?
She squeezed his fingers once more. "Hey, what's up?" The playfulness was fading from her voice.
He simply shook his head and accepted his pint with a cordial nod, staring into the amber liquid. He took a sip and Karen quickly followed suit with her own ale.
They sat in silence, finishing their beers. Rick's eyes traveled across the bar, focusing on nothing in particular. How could he explain without being a burden on her? Karen was friends with his sister. It wouldn't be fair to put her in the middle of all of this. Still, he felt like he was suffocating… He was oblivious to the frustrated look Karen gave him as she finished her drink.
The young woman stood up, her eyes hardening. His uncharacteristic behavior was scaring her a bit. "Well, if you're not going to talk, then I'm out."
Not her, too…
His hand snatched her wrist and Karen let out a gasp in surprise.
"Please… please don't leave me, too…" His voice cracked and there was an ache in it she had never heard before.
Karen had a feeling she knew what this was all about. The mail carrier had spilled his mail outside her house and as she helped him clean up, she couldn't help but notice an envelope with a familiar seal of a baby chick. She silently pushed her stool against his and climbed back up, leaning her shoulder against his. "I might not be much, but… I'm here."
"Thank you," he whispered.
0o0o0o0
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading. It's the wee hours of the morning and this was the product of a less-than-stellar emotional state I've been kind of stuck in for the past couple of weeks. This story came to me in the period of a couple of hours, and, to be honest, I've been so nervous about posting any of my writing again, so this might not be as polished as you all are used to.
It's best to get back into the saddle, though, I suppose, and I was hoping to do that with this story. Anyway, thank you again for taking the time to read it, and I hope you enjoyed.