The rain was freezing. So was the young woman shivering beneath the bridge in the park. Jareths eyes raked up and down her shivering, small form. She was pale, there were purple and green bruises dotting her exposed arms. She was asleep, propped against the bridge stone wall with her legs outstretched in front of her and one arm strung across her too narrow waist, the other outstretched with several puncture wounds in her elbow pit.
An almost empty glass vial sat to her right with a syringe laid on the dirty ground beside it. Curiously, he squats down and picks up the small jar so he can see it better. A hand reaches up and swipes it from him. He looks over to see the girl fully alert and staring at him with wide, angry, blue eyes. Her precious vial of heroin clutched in her fist and cradled to her breast.
"Thats mine," she snaps at him. "Keep your filthy hands away from it!"
Filthy? His hands were clean...and gloved. His anger reared its ugly head, but he stomped it down, reminding himself that she had no idea who she was talking to. "That stuff isnt healthy," he drawls instead of what he really wanted to say.
"Well thats none of your business, is it," she spits as she climbs to her feet and rearranges her messy dyed black hair. It looked like an animal lived up there. Dirt and twigs were stuck in the tangles, more dirt clung to her forehead and under her short fingernails, caked onto her too big mens clothes. She was disgusting. Even her shoes looked too small for her and were worn through.
"What are you doing out here, anyway, dressed like that?" Her head cocked to the side as she asked her question, all anger miraculously gone from her body language.
"I always dress like this," he replies, looking over his dark grey skin tight pants, brown boots, cream poets shirt with a brown waistcoat. He hadnt even bothered with a cloak this time.
"So youre a freak then," she laughs. It was perhaps the only redeaming quality she had, her laugh. It wasnt too deep, but not too high pitched either. Slightly insulted, Jareth turned on his heal to leave her there and find out where the hell he was. "Wait!"
He stopped, and turned half way to look at her. She hugs her arms to herself, shivering. What a pity, he thought.
"Please stay," she whispered so low he barely heard her. It was an embarrassing request, especially to that of a stranger, but she wasnt afraid of him. Her cheeks burned pink even though she didnt think he heard her, and Jareth pondered the idea of acting like he hadnt, but decided against it and approached her again.
The color in her cheeks darkened the closer he got, and he thought that too, was pretty. "I shouldnt stay long. Ive things to do," he says.
"Thats okay, Im used to being on my own. Whats your name?"
Jareth sits on the ground and beckons her toward him, unable to stand watching her shiver any longer. She hesitates, but the cold outweighs the danger in her mind and she cuddles up to him as he ponders how to answer her. His true name almost escaped his lips, but he stopped it.
This girl knew nothing of him. He could be a new person. It was likely when left here he would never see her again, so why shouldnt he lie? He could be somebody else for a short time. "My name is David," he says finally.
She cocks an eyebrow at him. "Fine, dont tell me your name," she chirps in a playful sort of disdain. "I wont tell you mine either. You can call me Kerrilyn."
Both names were so normal, it almost made the both of them feel like a member of human society. He went to say something else to her, but instead had to turn away as another round of coughing threw him onto all fours as he gagged and dry heaved all at the same time. His arms shook as he tried to keep himself from falling face first into the rocks beneath him.
Kerrilyn scooted over and placed a hand on his shoulder, concern stretched across her face. "Are you alright?" He looked over at her and shook off her hand.
"Im fine."
Sweat was beading on his face and chest, and Kerrilyn noticed too. Her hand unexpectedly came up and wiped away his wild hair from his forehead. "Youre burning up," she comments. "We should get you some snow to break the fever."
"It wont help," he says tiredly. "Nothing will help me." It was a lie, but he was unwilling to marry some power hungry wench who cared nothing for his dispicable goblins. As gastly as they were, they were his subjects.
"Cooling your skin off would be a start," she argues.
"Its none of your business," he quotes her almost angrily. Getting up again he storms away in the opposite direction. Irritation was catching up to him as his mind complained about his wet clothes, the awful feeling in his chest, and the annoying girl still following after him.
"Wait! Where are you going?"
"Why are you following me?"
"Because youre the only person whos given a damn about me in a long time."
Her answer struck him speechless. How could she know he cared what happened to her? He had only done two small things. He looked at her with his peripherals as he kept walking, enterimg the curtain of rain and locating a sidewalk leading past several closed down shops.
The skies were all dark because of the clouds, but he still deduced it was early evening. There was a snow plow down the street attempting to keep the streets as clear as possible so people could get to work the next day.
"Where am I," he wondered out loud.
"Corner of Main street," came the obvlivious answer.
"I meant territory."
"Territory? Youre in Grangeville, Idaho, if thats what you mean."
"The United States?"
"Thats right," she smiles. She didnt even ask how he didnt know, she didnt really care.
He made a small tsking sound and peered into a cafe that was open. There was nobody inside that he could see, but the warmth coming from inside was inviting. He didnt have any money, but he lacked the energy to change back to an owl and get to the UK. He would just have to wait.
The bell above the door chimed as they entered and the pair quickly made their way to a corner table, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. Kerrilyns fingers burned and tingled as they warmed, and the unpleasant sensation travelled up her arms and legs as well.
A middle aged burnette woman came out with a note padpad and walked over to them briskly. "Can I start you off with drinks?"
"No, we are just warming ourselves," Jareth answered calmly.
"You gotta order somethin' or I gotta throw you out. No loitering, says so there," the waitress points with her blue pen over to a sign above the register.
"We will have two glasses of water," Kerrilyn interjects before Jareth can mouth off. The waitress smacks her lips and shoves her notepad in her white apron pocket, and her pen behind her ear as she turns and walks briskly away.
"I dont see what the problem is, nobody is here," Jareth complains.
"Thats probably the point. She isnt making any money," Kerrilyn explains. Jareth huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. "So," she continues. "Tell me your story."
Jareth looks up at her, once again shocked by her request. He decided he liked her well enough, which shocked bim further. A human girl that was annoying but not obnoxious. Maybe he would help her get off the drugs.
