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TWO
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Winry left the train station behind, including the bitterness born out of the unpleasant farewell. Now she headed home accompanied by nothing more than the noise of her boots striking against the loose gravel. As she walked, she kicked an unsuspecting rock. The poor thing took flight, bouncing and rolling when it hit the ground. The rock clicked when it collided with another one of its kind further down the road. It seemed like the sounds of nature were the only companions Winry had on the road, and these were scarce and spread apart. Stillness moved in fast, covering all surroundings with a veil of silence. Such unnerving tranquility reminded Winry of the one that awaited her back home.
Up ahead was the first of two crossroads.
Winry slowed down as she approached the wooden sign. She crossed her arms over her chest as she read red names painted over white. She hummed; there were only two options at her disposition: she could keep going straight and take the route towards the second crossroads leading to farmlands (and thus, home), or she could go through downtown. The first choice would lead her home in half hour while the other one would get her home past ten. She looked at her watch: it was only 7:30. Winry worried her lip, staring at the sign.
Should I rush back home?
Den was there of course, always ready to greet her with his enthusiastic licks. Her lovable pet and loyal companion should be reason enough to come home sooner rather than later…Winry released her lip when she sighed. Logic told her that Den could wait; her thought turned to work. Rockbell Automail needed to be up and running by noon, and she needed to prep shop for the day—
She should've been on the move by now, but there she was, still staring at the sign. Why must she be so difficult? She steepled her hands, the tips of her index fingers touching her rosy lips. Maybe I should take the long route, she thought. The more she kept staring at the damn sign the more inclined she was about taking the detour.
"Ah—crew it!" Winry turned to the right; downtown Resembool awaited her.
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Resembool was an agricultural province so it was commonplace to see business being conducted at early morning hours. Main Street bustled with life as business owners worked on setting up shop; some were already making the first sale of the day.
As Winry walked across Main Street, she couldn't help but to think that the vein of the town had seen better days. Main Street had been the first paved road in town and it was starting to show the passing of time, with potholes and cracks claiming new portions of the once unblemished asphalt. An impressionable visitor would think that the road deterioration was due to heavy traffic when it was the drastic weather changes the culprit for the decay. Automobiles, even in that day and age, were still considered a luxury around those parts. Only the more affluent farmers owned steam-powered vehicles; she and Alphonse were a rare exception.
The enticing aroma of fresh-baked bread captured Winry's attention; her feet brought her to the bakery. Golden letters painted in neat cursive on the large window pane listed all the treats that the bakery was famous for. Winry leaned closer to the glass and saw people waiting in line to buy toasty loafs. Her stomach grumbled, seduced by the warming aroma of fresh bread, and her mouth started to water. As tempting as it was, the delicious smell wasn't powerful enough to make her to take a turn in line. Her stomach complained as she moved past the establishment.
Noises, smells and colors faded into the background as Winry walked along Main Street.
Stopping by the bakery brought her fond memories of Alphonse stuffing his mouth with doughnuts. The loving memory barely managed to draw out a smile; it didn't take much for her sink into gloom. The dark sentiment stuck to her heart like axle grease stuck to her work clothes and removing it was just as hard—
Someone crashed into Winry, making her stumble forward. She turned around, looked around then down. In front of her, a small boy and his big brown eyes were staring into her sapphire blues.
"Hi!" Winry greeted the boy with a bright smile.
The boy's eyes twinkled and the widest most beautiful smile came to his face. He bowed to her before running back to his mother, who was walking towards her. The boy called out to his mother as as he jumped into her arms. Winry's heart fluttered when the woman planted loving kisses on the boy's ruddy cheeks. She tussled the boy's dark hair before curling a hand around his. They walked past Winry and the mother offered her an apologetic smile. Winry smiled back but her smile had come out somewhat crooked.
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After three blocks, Winry recognized a familiar round shape rising up from behind the Public Library; at last she reached City Hall.
If Main Street was the main vein of the down then Resembool's City Hall was its heart. And today the government building seemed busier than ever. Groups of people were going to and fro like ants at work. It made Winry wonder if the rustle had anything to do with the spring festivities.
The Major did say that the event was going to be spectacular, Winry reminded herself, and with that, shrugged her shoulders and kept walking, leaving the controlled chaos behind.
As Winry walked through downtown, her blue eyes captured slices of life in the rural town: like the old men by the park whose battle cries made tree leaves tremble as they fought for honor and victory within checkered planes of a chess board; or, like the embarrassed couple a little far head that tried to keep their purebred away from a stray; or, like the cacophony outside the terrace of the only Auregan coffee shop in town. All these scenes filled Winry with warmth and love for her place of birth. As she walked past the cafe, she took a mental note: To bring Alphonse to that place.
He's not a fan of strong coffee but he'll love the sweets, Winry mused and chuckled to herself; after all, food was Alphonse's other love.
Winry was so enthused in her thoughts that she didn't notice a pack of strollers (and the women pushing them) coming her way. She barely managed to move to the side, and watched as the group strode past her. The women didn't even look at her as they pushed their babies down the street. Winry followed them with her eyes as they crossed Main Street and entered the park.
Her brow tensed and her chest constricted, and her thoughts went back to the train station, and to what Alphonse said before departing to Xing.
In Resembool, people married young and had children fast; she and Alphonse weren't an exception. Both born and raised under those presumptions couldn't wait to be carrying a little one in their arms months after they got married—eight years later and they still were waiting for their precious one to arrive. The pack of mothers heading to the park were young, even the mother of the boy who'd crashed into her earlier that morning was quite young herself. Their youth reminded Winry of the one she was leaving behind; in a few months she was going to turn thirty years old.
"Thirty and childless," she scoffed. Winry gave one long morose look at the women before leaving.
Winry walked through Main Street engrossed in thought. She was trying to find the correct words for what she was feeling.
"Hi, hon!" Winry's thoughts were disrupted by a voice calling out to her. She stopped and looked around. Her eyes widened when she spotted Mrs. Dillon walking her way.
"Hi, Mrs. Dillon, how are you today?" Winry greeted the woman with a screwed on smile.
She had wanted to say "why me?" but Gertrude Dillon had been one her late grandmother's acquaintances. Winry sustained her forced smile even though she wanted to scream.
"I'm fine my dear, just dandy," Mrs. Dillon replied as she looked at Pinako's granddaughter over her gaudy frames. She had a bad habit of sizing people up and her cold stare made Winry shudder.
"Were you at the train station?"
The arrogance in her voice and the stiff posture told Winry that the old woman was engaging in what she loved best: snooping. Winry dressed herself with patience and answered: "Yes, I was there, Mrs. Dillon. I was dropping Alphonse off."
Her answer was coated with sweetness and sprinkled with politeness and served with a wide smile, just as Pinako taught her to do when dealing with irritating people.
Show them who's the better person! Hers had been words of wisdom perfumed with tobacco and cloves.
"Heading to Xing again!" Mrs. Dillon's exaltation was as fake as her eyelashes, which were sticking to her thin eyebrows, making her look like a sad clown.
Winry clenched her jaw as she stretched her lips into a thin smile.
"Yes, Mrs. Dillon. He has some important business to tend to in the East." She answered casually, but tension still plucked her intonation. This tension was also beginning to pull at her shoulders and neck.
"Oh, that Alphonse is just like his older brother!" Gertrude clicked her tongue.
"Listen honey, what you need to do is keep that husband of yours at home so he can make you a baby. You are not getting any younger, you know—"
Will this woman ever shut up? Winry nodded mindlessly.
Gertrude's yapping was making her cringe so she tried to ignore the noise. The woman's words sounded like gibberish now that she shut Gertrude out. She was doing fine too until "don't you want to have kids?" broke the wonderful spell she was in. Contemptuous eyes narrowed at the old witch as she returned back to the moment.
Mrs. Dillon didn't seem to notice her change in expression or at least it looked that way. She continued with the drivel, talking about her great-grandchildren, about how beautiful and bright they were. She went on to babble about how fortunate the women in her family were "because motherhood blessed them".
Winry almost rolled her eyes at that last comment.
Curse that odious woman and her slithering tongue! She sighed long and hard, otherwise she would be screaming.
Winry needed to escape from Mrs. Dillon's claws. Taking a cue from that clown, Winry went for the dramatic flair. She raised her left hand, pushed back the long sleeve of her jacket and looked at her watch; her blue eyes became as big as saucers.
"Oh look at the time!" Winry cried out, cutting the old woman off. "I really have to go Mrs. Dillon—clients. I have a client coming over in half hour and I'm still stuck in downtown."
In her exalted state, Winry caught Gertrude's lips quivering; those tired edges were straining to form a word.
Oh hell no! She wasn't going to take any more verbal abuse, so before Mrs. Dillon could even form a vowel, Winry was already taking the that wrinkly old hand of hers in hers.
Winry shook it—just once.
"It was nice seeing you. Goodbye!"
One fake smile later, Winry fled from Mrs. Dillon's side. She didn't even glance over her shoulder when Gertrude asked her to stop, she kept walking as fast as she could, putting a good distance between them.
She continued the trek back home in a foul mood.
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Winry sulked all the way back to the yellow house; the unlucky rocks payed for it.
She abhorred people who measure women by how many kids they can pop out of their bodies—it was the Twentieth century, an age of technology, of freedom—!
Another rock was sent flying towards the beautiful farmland backdrop.
Winry tucked her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. She sighed as her sapphire eyes got lost into the distance. She was angry, but her anger had more to do with her personal situation than about changing the way that humans thought of the supposed fairer sex.
"Unexplained infertility" had been what the doctor labeled their dilemma.
"What kind of crud is that?" Winry complained to the wind and to the dirt road.
Both her and Alphonse seemed healthy enough, so why it hadn't happened yet still remained a mystery. And it wasn't for a lack of trying—heat rose to her cheeks.
Since the good doctor couldn't help them, they had turned to other methods. She had tried all sorts of fertility gimmicks: from traditional Amestrian remedies to weird Xinguese concoctions that Alphonse had prepared for her with love. Just thinking about that ordeal made her gag (and also chuckle) but her expression imminently turned melancholic.
Nothing has worked yet…
It was a reality too cruel to accept.
The surroundings blurred as despair washed over her, but she didn't dwell in that sentiment for long, for she was a Rockbell and Rockbells don't break so easy.
If it is going to happen, it will happen, Winry reminded herself. The thought made her feel more optimistic but darkness still clung to her heart; its presence made her insecure.
This darkness presented something she hadn't thought of in years: true infertility. That term was taboo between her and Alphonse. She seldom touched it, fearing that the simple phrase would somehow affect their marriage. She was sure that Alphonse avoided it for the exact same reasons.
Now Al wants us to try again… Her lips turned down remembering how the last time they tried to get pregnant ended in a bitter fight that lasted for weeks—
Winry thought she heard Den barking.
She looked around and noticed that she was already at the foot of the small hill that led home. She had been so immersed in her thoughts that she lost track of her surroundings; it made her crack a nervous laugh.
The incessant barking made her completely return to the present. The sun was high now so Winry shaded her eyes as she looked towards the house. She saw a brown dot jumping up and down. Den's vigorous enthusiasm was catchy and soon her lips curled upwards. Winry cast all baby-making thoughts aside and continued the trek uphill.
Halfway there, Winry swore hearing Den barking a "welcome home".
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By the time Winry opened the front door, her foul mood had completely vanished; she had to thank Den for that. His greeting had included lots of tail wagging, jumping and barking, but it was his masterful licking what slobbered away the glum that still clung to her.
Den had put her in a better mood, but unfortunately, the joyful state of mind wasn't long lasting.
It only took but a quick look at the surroundings to wipe that happiness from her face. Everything was still, and enveloped in unnerving silence, just as she expected. The tranquility put some weight on her frame and her shoulders slouched; she groaned.
Den, who had strutted towards the kitchen, turned around and returned to his sulking mistress. He sat in front of her and looked up. Den barked a "pep talk" then offered his full support when he leaned his heavy head against her thigh.
Winry couldn't help but to chuckle; leave it to Den to make things better. Her blue eyes connected with his brown globes as she petted his head. Den licked her hand, coaxing Winry to caress his head some more, and she did so with love.
"Work awaits!" Winry told Den, who stood in all fours and wagged his tail in agreement. The vocal outburst also helped Winry to shoo away the pestering silence roaming around the house.
Winry ruffled Den's ears then headed upstairs to change into her work clothes. When she came back down, she went to the kitchen.
"Be a good boy," Winry chirped to the dog before entering the automail shop through the basement entrance.
Den panted happily, his hips swung to the rhythm of his fanning tail. He waited until Winry was out of sight to treat himself to the food sitting inside a metal bowl.
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Winry rolled her shoulders as she went down the stairs. Once inside the shop, she headed to the far wall where all her tools hung. She picked from the wall what she needed for the day then went to the metal table where an automail arm patiently waited to be tinkered with. Winry began working with the prosthetic while she awaited for the first client of the day to ring the doorbell.
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End Note: This chapter has a commentary at Live Journal.
Dear reader: I created a new Tumblr account to house works I have created on all my accounts. The blog is hirstories dot Tumblr dot com (please edit link accordingly-sorry I can't give you a direct link, this website won't let me). I hope that you follow me there too!