Thank you to everyone who has been reading. For this chapter, I recommend curling up under a blanket with a huge mug of hot tea and your laptop, because it is both a beast and a wildcard. It does next to nothing to advance the plot, so I apologize, but I wanted to write an entire chapter of just Samuel and Toby, so you could get a good sense of their relationship. So, the brothers go on an adventure fraught with singing, drinking, absurdity, and a bit of teenage angst.
Please let me know if you're getting enough of Samuel in this chapter. I feel like I could've done better at including Samuel's inner thoughts. I'll probably edit this chapter further at a later time. Please let me know what you think about this chapter so I can improve it.
Ch. 4 - Samuel and Toby spend some quality brother to brother time together on their trip to Potterstead. They get their first dose of the absurdity of city life when Toby goes off on a secret quest, and Samuel plays cards with gangsters.
The sun rose, just as always, in Old Pier, and most of the townsfolk started their regular routines, getting ready to work and then working. However, for the Beechworth family, the day was full of possibilities as Samuel and Toby got ready to take their first trip to Potterstead - alone.
Toby had chattered all morning, excited as a mouse, and Samuel had prepared for the trip, making sure to bring enough money for the groceries. Pa slipped him a few extra coins, in case he and Toby wanted to get something for themselves, closing them into Samuel's hand with a wink.
Ma hugged her children tightly, kissing them both on the foreheads, and telling them to have a safe trip, and Pa waited by the door.
"Toby, I wanna talk to you for a minute," he said, waving Samuel out the door. "Samuel you can wait by the road. Toby'll help me with the cart."
The clear sky showed promising signs of an easy trip to the market in Potterstead. With summer ending, it was neither too hot nor too humid, making it pleasant outdoors. Samuel stood near the road, waiting for Pa to arrive with the cart. Usually Pa was the one who went to Potterstead, taking Samuel or Toby with him, but Pa decided that Samuel and Toby were old enough to go on their own. Samuel found that he was nervous, but he assured himself that he would be able to handle whatever Toby threw at him.
Pa arrived, dragging a wooden cart, and Toby trailed behind him, beaming. Samuel walked up to them as they approached, studying the cart.
"It's empty," said Samuel. Usually the cart was filled with fish, ready to be sold at the market. The families of Old Pier took turns transporting and selling the fish, bringing the money home. They kept most of the money and paid a small percentage in taxes.
"This isn't our selling day," said Pa, stopping to stand in front of Samuel. Toby walked up behind him.
"Does there really have to be any reason for us to go to the market, other than to buy food?" Toby said.
"Yeah, I think so, when the market is a two and a half hour walk away," said Samuel.
"Samuel," Pa said, putting his hand on his son's shoulder. "I think it's important for you and your brother to take this trip alone. You're both growing up." Samuel felt as though he heard that sentence at least once a day.
Samuel knew there was more to Pa's reasoning for the trip than just teaching his sons how to be responsible. Pa's and Ma's anniversary was today.
Samuel did not mind getting kicked out of the house for a while, but he knew that Toby would take offense and stay home, and he understood why Pa had chosen not to bring up his and Ma's anniversary. Toby seemed happy enough to be going to the market, so Samuel assumed that Pa's idea had worked.
"Samuel, Toby," Pa said. "I'm trusting you both to be responsible and safe. Get back here before the sun goes down. I don't want you on that road after dark. It can get dangerous." He held up his finger. "And, don't even think about going anywhere else besides the market. It's not safe in the city." Toby snorted. "I mean it, Toby. There can be some sick people out there, and I don't want either of you getting hurt." He looked at Samuel as if to say: Make sure you keep Toby in line. I want him back safe. Do you hear me?
Samuel heard him perfectly. The brothers headed off with the cart, heading north, along the Coast Road, to Potterstead.
"Did I tell you Susannah wants to travel to Pandyssia?" Samuel and Toby trotted down the dirt road, the cart rolling behind them. Since the moment they had left, Toby talked non-stop about his new girlfriend.
"Yes, you told me already, Toby," Samuel said, rubbing his eyebrows. "You've only known her for a month. How much else can you know about her?"
"Plenty," Toby said. "We have all day to talk."
"So, that's where you've been. Just talking at Susannah's house?" Samuel said.
"Not quite..." Toby said. "I've been helping her sell her, um, trinkets by the road." Samuel glanced briefly at his brother.
"You? Working? Maybe Susannah should start fishing," he said. Toby punched him in the arm.
"She doesn't get that much business," said Toby, grinning as Samuel rubbed his arm. "I just like keeping her company. It can get boring waiting for people to stop and buy something. Did I tell you Susannah wants to go to Serkonos? There's supposed to be a huge market in Cullero. I heard that the entire city is a market." Samuel rubbed his eyebrows again.
"Yeah, you told me that, too," he said.
"I just like her so much, Samuel," Toby said.
"I can tell," said Samuel.
"I think - " Toby hesitated. "Well, you're the only other person who knows about her, so you're the only person I can talk about her with."
"I know, Toby." Samuel kept his face blank.
"I think I might love her," said Toby, waiting for his brother's reaction.
"Maybe," said Samuel. Toby looked at him, surprised.
"That's all you're gonna say? You're supposed to tell me that I'm just being silly. That I've only known her for a month, and I don't love her." Samuel looked at Toby and shrugged. They were silent for a moment, and Toby looked at his brother slyly.
"Did I tell you that Susannah wants to travel to Morley to harvest a - "
"Yes! You told me that too," said Samuel, raising his voice a bit. He shook his head.
"Good," said Toby. "You're back to your usual self. You were scaring me for a little bit."
"Well..." Samuel said, trailing off. Though he maintained his grouchy act, he couldn't help but let a brief smile slip through while Toby wasn't looking.
"Samuel, how long have we been walking?" Toby said. Samuel looked up.
"The sun's still in the east, in the same place it was when you asked last time - so, not that long." Toby looked around.
"I know where we are," he said.
"I told you, Toby," said Samuel. "We've been walking for maybe twenty or thirty minutes since we left home." Samuel hadn't even finished his sentence before Toby took off, dashing toward an object in the distance. "Where are you going?" Samuel yelled. Toby ignored him and kept running.
Samuel caught up with Toby, who stood in front of a small stand by the side of the road, talking to the vendor, whose long, black hair and small frame were very familiar.
Susannah waved as Samuel arrived.
"Samuel!" she said, running up to him and giving him a hug. "It's been such a long time." She took his hands and kissed his cheeks. Toby giggled at Samuel's discomfort. "Tobias tells me you two are going on a road trip. I think that's so sweet - you two brothers getting some time together. Family is so important, you know," she said, holding her finger up.
"Good to see you too, Susannah," said Samuel, smoothing back his hair.
"Oh!" she said, turning toward the stand. She picked something up, holding in her palm and bringing it to Samuel. "Please, have one. You're as good as family, after all." Samuel looked down at a small doll made of string attached to a pin. Susannah stuck it on his shirt. "Isn't it adorable?" said Susannah. "These dolls were supposedly used as luck charms in Tyvia," she said. "But don't tell anyone," she whispered. "I just sell them as decorative pins." Samuel nodded.
"Where's Toby's?" he said, jokingly, but Toby held his jacket open, and Samuel could see a small doll attached to the lining.
Samuel approached the stand, which had an assortment of pins, bells, whistles, pencils, lighters, and other small trinkets. He found himself wondering who would buy any of them while on the road, as he could not see any particular use for the items when traveling.
"None of these sell that well," Susannah said. "But that's not really what people come here for." She giggled.
"What do they come here for?" Samuel asked after Susannah gave no further detail.
"The bone charms, of course," Susannah said. Her green cat eyes turned to slits as she smiled.
"What?" Samuel said, gaping. He looked at Toby, who looked away. "Isn't that dangerous? What if the overseers catch you?"
"I told you, Samuel," Susannah put her hand on his shoulder. "Overseers are rarely in the country. I've seen a few pass by, but they just see this junk, and they usually leave once I try to sell them something."
"And Toby's been doing this with you?" Samuel said. Susannah nodded, still smiling.
"Samuel," Toby started.
"We have to go," Samuel said, taking Toby's arm. He held the cart handle with his other hand.
"Bye, Susannah," Toby said. "I think I'm in trouble." Susannah giggled.
"Goodbye, Tobias," she said, giving him a peck on the lips before Samuel could drag him away.
The boys walked in silence for a few minutes, Samuel on the left and Toby on the right.
"Samuel," said Toby, taking a deep breath. "I am almost an adult, and I believe that I can make my own decisions, but if I'm to do that, you can't tell Pa about Susannah or the bone charms," he said, pleadingly.
"Toby, I'd rather tell them than have you get dragged off by the overseers - "
"There aren't any overseers in the country. It's safe, Samuel!" Toby whined.
"We'll talk about it later," said Samuel, sternly.
"Sometimes it seems like you're my third parent, instead of my big brother," Toby said, but Samuel was not listening. He stopped, looking at the sky ahead.
Samuel could see a shroud of darkness on the horizon, moving slowly closer to his and Toby's location.
"That doesn't look good," Samuel said. "Maybe we should turn back? It's probably not a good idea for us to walk through a storm."
"Maybe it's just rain," said Toby. "It won't be that bad. We'll just get wet." Samuel turned to his brother. Usually Toby was the first person to ditch his responsibilities if he had the chance.
"Really?" said Samuel. "You want to go that bad?"
"Yeah... " said Toby, shrugging.
"Why?" Samuel asked, eyeing his brother suspiciously.
"What do you mean, Samuel?" Toby said. "I just want to see the market, plus we'll ruin Ma and Pa's anniversary if we come back so soon."
Samuel looked apprehensively at the road ahead. He sighed. Toby seemed to really want to go to Potterstead, and Samuel knew he was hiding something. The possibilities ran through his mind, but he couldn't come up with a likely one. Susannah was behind them, now, so she could not be at the market.
Unless she has special powers, and she can travel anywhere instantly, Samuel thought to himself sarcastically. He stopped a moment to consider it but then shook his head. Susannah did not have any powers. She did pointless rituals in a dark, dusty cellar, speaking "ancient" gibberish, relying on the eagerness of her imagination. Samuel was thankful that she did not do any of the gory rituals described by the overseers, but gory or not, the rituals did nothing.
He started walking again, pulling his end of the cart, and Toby adjusted his stride to Samuel's, holding his own side of the wooden wagon.
The black clouds ahead neared faster than Samuel had predicted, rolling over the sparkling, blue sky and threatening to block out the sun. The momentary chiaroscuro of the landscape gave Samuel a feeling of both dread and wonder, but soon the clouds covered the sky completely, and the wonder was gone, all light above extinguished as though it were nighttime. Samuel found himself wishing that they had turned back. Lightning flashed in the distance, and more sparked just ahead, projecting an ear-splitting boom that rattled the ground. Toby jumped and looked around, but he continued on, never slowing his pace.
"Why do I always listen to you?" Samuel grumbled. Samuel pondered the fact that he took the advice of his reckless brother more than he did his own and found that his actions baffled him.
"It's just rain, Samuel," said Toby. The wind picked up. It had not even started raining, yet.
"Look at that," said Samuel, pointing to a curtain of mist headed their way. "We'll get soaked."
"Good, you needed a bath, anyway," Toby said, pinching his nose and waving his other hand in front of his face. He laughed. Samuel looked down, trudging grumpily. "You're no fun, Samuel," Toby said. "How about we sing something? Like when we were little?"
When Pa took Samuel and Toby to the market when they were young, they would pass the time by singing silly songs, Pa's voice booming, probably traveling for miles, and the boys' voices, chirping away.
"Don't you remember any of them?" said Toby.
"No," said Samuel, keeping his eyes on his feet.
"Come on, Samuel! You have to," Toby said, pushing his brother lightly on the arm.
"No," Samuel said, more forcefully this time.
"Well, I remember one," said Toby, ignoring Samuel's grouchiness. He took a deep, dramatic breath. "There - " Instant rain poured from the clouds in buckets. It filled Toby's mouth, and he bent down, hacking and spitting. Samuel stopped to let his brother recover. The ground had already turned to brown sludge, and Samuel felt his boots sinking into the mess. He took a step toward Toby to pat him on the back and almost slipped.
"Careful," Toby croaked, standing to look at his elder brother. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand and picked up the wagon handle. The brothers started off again, holding each other for support as they slid through the mud. Lightning flashed from all over, momentarily bathing the landscape in bright, white light before the blackness returned. Just as Samuel's eyes grew accustomed to the dark, another flash blinded him again, resulting in a never-ending cycle that rendered them useless.
"We should have brought a lantern," said Toby. He made his voice low and raspy. "This reminds me of a story Pa told me about a monster who only attacks during thunderstorms. He eats men whole, grabbing their feet as they walk through a puddle - "
"I told you that story," said Samuel, looking over at his brother. He felt a smile creep onto his face. "And I made the whole thing up." He chuckled.
"Well, what about the highway murderer who hides in the backs of wagons and carts waiting to slit - "
"My story," Samuel said. "Also made up."
"Damn it, Samuel," said Toby. "How much time did you spend trying to scare me when we were little?" Samuel thought about it, trying to remember back to when he and Toby were children.
"Probably a lot," said Samuel. "But then I got to hug you and tell you that everything was okay, and then I'd scare the monsters and murderers away - "
"So you could be the hero? You act so innocent," Toby said. "Remember when you told me that I would get eaten by witches if I went outside at night?"
"It kept you from trying to sneak out while we were asleep," Samuel said. "And the witches were Pa's idea."
"Does nobody in this family like me?" said Toby, putting on a fake frown. Thunder crashed overhead and the wind blew harder, making the rain shoot directly into the boys' faces. Samuel squinted, trying to keep the water out of his eyes.
Samuel and Toby trudged through the thick goop, their feet sinking into the ground, then - with some effort - emerging from the mouth of sucking mud with a smack. The road had turned into a sludgy stream, making the ground flow backward, and the brothers had to double their pace to make progress. Nature seemed to have turned against them, doing everything in its power to keep them from their destination.
"How long do you think we've been walking?" yelled Toby.
"I don't know," Samuel said. He could not even make a prediction. He felt as though they had been walking all day. The few trees in the country landscape bent into unnatural shapes as the wind worked to push them away. Samuel found that he could hardly see through the rain; anything that was not directly in front of him was a gray blur. The speeding water slammed into his face, biting his skin like millions of needles.
"There... " Toby started.
"...Was a plump woman who sat on her tush,
the kids came along and gave her a push,
she tumbled and tumbled and tumbled away,
and the kids chased her 'round as she tumbled all day!"
Toby had to yell the song to be heard over the cracking, crashing, rumbling, whooshing and rushing. "Your turn, Samuel!" he said.
"I told you I don't remember any," he said, wiping away a lock of scraggly hair stuck to his face.
"Of course you do," said Toby. "What about the one about the whale and the sailboat?"
"I forgot the words," said Samuel. He huffed as he uprooted his right leg from the mud, feeling as though he would lose a foot if he pulled any harder.
"That was one of your favorites," said Toby.
"A sailboat floated in the sea,
the crew was in a fuss,
because the wind was nowhere to be...
...found, and they were stuck,
"Come on, Samuel." Toby stopped singing. "I know you know this song. Sing the next verse, please?" Toby looked over at his brother with pleading eyes.
"Are you five years old?" Samuel said. His arm pumped as he squished forward. "Why do you act this way?" Toby flashed Samuel an expression that resembled pity - the kind given to a child who can't seem to understand an easy concept.
"I just want you to have some fun, Samuel. You can get so grumpy. Doesn't it get tiring?" Toby said.
"I imagine it's more tiring to be like you," said Samuel, raising a soggy eyebrow. "With all that you do."
"Sometimes I think you try to be grumpy. It doesn't make you seem older, you know." A sudden gust of wind pushed him backward. "You're the same as usual, just angrier - like Pa," said Toby as he recovered. Samuel gave his brother a side glance, trying not to be swept away by the rushing rainwater or sucked into the mud.
"Maybe I'm just naturally that way," he said distractedly, knowing it was not true.
"Then, it's my job to cheer you up," Toby said, sloshing with ease through the brown slush. "Just sing one song with me. I'll leave you alone after that if you don't wanna sing anymore." Samuel exhaled. He could see his breath.
"Okay," he said, surrendering in the face of his younger brother's persistence.
"Good," Toby said, beaming. "You start and I'll join in."
"A sailboat floated - "
"I can't hear you!" shouted Toby. "Sing louder!" Samuel started again.
"A sail - "
"Louder!" said Toby. Samuel growled.
"Wha - "
"A SAILBOAT FLOATED IN THE SEA!" Toby screamed. He gestured for Samuel to start.
"The crew - "
"THE CREW - "
"THE CREW WAS IN A FUSS!" Samuel shouted a-melodically, more out of frustration than fun. Toby cackled.
"That's it, Samuel!" he said. Samuel looked away from his brother, trying to conceal the grin that had formed on his face, but Toby saw it. "Go, Samuel!" he said.
"BECAUSE THE WIND WAS NOWHERE TO BE..."
"...FOUND, AND THEY WERE STUCK!" Toby finished. Samuel laughed at how horrible they sounded, but with the storm tearing the world apart around them, they were the only ones who could hear it. Toby started singing again, and Samuel joined in.
bobbing in the ocean blue,
the crew was sick, the captain too,
but then out of the water deep,
some movement caught their eye./
'Captain,' said one of the men,
'I think something is afoot',
the captain looked over the side
and fell overboard, ka-put!/
The men didn't know what to do,
'the captain's gone,' they cried, 'boo-hoo!'
but then there came a miracle,
as the captain appeared./
As he floated out of the ocean,
he cried, 'Listen men!,
a most peculiar thing has happened.
I've found us a friend!/
'As I sank down into the blue,
I thought I was a-dead,
but suddenly I found myself,
standing on a whale's head!'/
'Hooray!' the crew shouted in glee,
'The captain is a-back!'
The captain said, 'the whale and I
have made a little pact./
'In exchange for friendship undying,
he'll give us a push.
We'll sail from Caltan to Cullero,
with no wind, a-whoosh!'/
From that moment on never again
did the boat need a sail.
If the wind failed, the men still sailed,
because they had a whale!/
Samuel and Toby laughed freely, any feelings of foolishness forgotten. Somehow, while singing, walking through the mud and rain did not seem so bad to Samuel. His legs stopped aching, he felt warmer, and the cart seemed lighter now. He looked at Toby and smiled.
"I told you," Toby said. "Let's sing another one." This time Samuel started, screaming gibberish when he could not remember the words, and the brothers sang on through the storm.
Samuel and Toby arrived in Potterstead about an hour and a half later than they intended. The cart had gotten stuck in the mud a few times, and the brothers took a while getting its wheels out, as it seemed to sink in deeper every time they tried to pull it.
Toby had tried to convince Samuel that they should leave the cart and save themselves, but Samuel only stared at his younger brother and told him to pull harder.
"We won't accomplish anything if all of us are stuck in the mud," Toby said, grasping his end of the cart tightly. "I think I'm sinking." Toby's feet and ankles had disappeared into the ground.
"I'll tell Ma and Pa that you were brave, staying behind to save the cart. You'll be a hero," said Samuel.
"Sure, a dumb hero," Toby said. "My story will be some cautionary tale that parents tell to their children, warning them to not do stupid things that get them killed, like drowning in mud for a cart."
Miraculously, the brothers managed to save both the cart and themselves, and shortly afterward, they found themselves within sight of the city.
They sauntered into Potterstead, muddy and tired, but feeling like victorious warriors, just having survived a battle. The rain had stopped a few minutes before, and already, the sky had turned back to its former shade of light blue. A group of children who had been running around and hitting each other with sticks stopped to snicker at the two boys, whose clothes were soggy and encrusted with dried mud. Toby shook his hand at them, sending the brown slush flying into their faces, and laughed back at them as they screamed. Samuel shook his head and pulled Toby along by the arm.
The market was not too far from the entrance of the city. From where the boys were, the city looked nice enough. It was made mostly of stone; cobblestone lined the streets underneath their feet, and buildings made of stacked stones towered above them. The rain had mostly dried up, and the market operated as though there had been no storm at all. Ordered chaos surrounded them and bent around them as they disrupted its flow. Women shouted out of windows at their husbands who worked in the market, sometimes throwing down supplies. Children ran through the streets, even the girls in pants, playing Kick the Can and Roll the Hoop. One of the hoops ran into Samuel's leg, falling to the ground, and three children ran to it, groaning and giving Samuel dirty looks for ruining the game.
"That one didn't count!" said the tallest boy. He wore a dirty white shirt tucked into brown pants with suspenders. On his head was a charcoal-colored cap.
"Yes, it did," said a girl. She wore a similar outfit to the boy, the knees of her pants stained with dirt, and had her hair pinned up so that Samuel had almost mistaken her for another boy. "You lost, Len," she said.
"No, he ruined it!" Len pointed up at Samuel. Samuel tried to keep walking, but the children blocked him from turning the cart. Toby grinned at him, enjoying the unfolding scene.
"You threw it wrong," said a smaller boy.
"I did not," said Len, stomping his foot on the worn cobblestone. He picked up the hoop. "I'm not playing anymore!" he said, chucking the hoop away. It ricocheted off one of the buildings, nearly hitting a woman in the head, and hurtled over a small barrier, dropping a distance and then disappearing.
"That was mine!" said the small boy. Tears formed in his eyes and he sniffled uncontrollably.
"It's gone now," Len said flatly. The girl seemed to lose interest and wandered away, joining another small group of children who were jumping in a puddle. Len left the little boy to blubber by himself, marching behind Samuel and kicking the cart before leaving. The little boy stopped crying and looked up at Samuel, eyeing him resentfully. He left after a bit, stomping and grumbling his way out of the market.
"You're so good at making friends, Samuel," joked Toby. He laughed. "You ruin the fun, even if you're not trying to." Samuel ignored him and stepped forward, pulling the cart along.
"You know," said Toby walking with him. "I'm feeling kind of dirty. Maybe there's somewhere we can take a bath?" He scratched under his arm.
"Not anywhere we'd want to," said Samuel. "These people are used to dirty travelers. Let's just get what we need so we can go home and wash."
"But we're here now," Toby whined. "After all of that, you just want us to leave?" Samuel's shoulders slumped forward, and he took an overly-dramatic breath. Toby snickered at his elder brother's act.
"What else would we do? Pa said that we shouldn't leave the market - "
"Look," Toby said, pointing down a nearby street. "There's a pub right there." Samuel gazed in the direction of Toby's outstretched finger and caught a glimpse of what could be a pub off in the distance.
"That's too far, Toby," said Samuel, running a hand through his damp hair then pulling the cart forward. The cart's wheels lurched to life. "I don't know what kinds of folks live here, and I don't want to have to look after you." He grunted as he veered the cart to the left to avoid a man pulling a wagon of fruit.
"You don't have to," said Toby, strutting around to Samuel's other side. "I can look after myself. You can look after yourself. We'll be fine." Samuel stopped and turned around, squinting at the potential pub. He could use a drink after surviving the journey through that storm.
"Fine," he said. "We'll get a drink - "
"Or three," said Toby.
"...and then we'll leave - "
"Jolly as jellyfish," Toby finished. Samuel gave his brother a long, hard stare and then looked around.
"First, we'll go there," he said, pointing toward the vegetable section. Toby dashed ahead, giving Samuel the privilege of pulling the cart.
By the time Samuel had caught up with Toby, his younger brother had gathered an armful of vegetables that had grown into a mountain. He wobbled in front of a stand, tended by a rather unfriendly-looking middle-aged man, trying not to drop them.
"Well, pay him already, Samuel," said Toby, shifting his arms. "I don't wanna drop any of these."
"You could've waited for me," said Samuel, stretching an arm out to take some of the vegetables.
"I'm not a baby," Toby said, twisting away from Samuel's reach. "I can pick out good vegetables, see? A lot better than you, even. Look at the corn." He raised his arms about an inch, stood on his toes, and took a stunted step toward his elder brother.
"That wasn't my point," grumbled Samuel. The stand owner cleared his throat, and Samuel blindly grabbed at his belt, until he found his pouch. He removed a coin and handed it to the man.
"Thanks," said Samuel. The man grunted and looked away.
After Toby loaded the cart, even making sure not to damage the vegetables by dropping them in, the boys headed on to the fruit section.
Toby took the cart this time, negating his earlier care with the groceries by bounding down the road. The cart, partially dragging behind him, strived to keep up, vegetables of all colors and shapes careening about the basket.
Samuel, already tired of chasing after his brother, strolled casually down the aisle, allowing Toby to run as fast as he wanted. Toby had always been energetic. Even at fifteen, he appeared alive as a seven-year-old, displaying the maturity of one as well.
"I might have to drop my future son off at an orphanage if he's this bad," Samuel called after him. "Or give him away to his uncle. Let's see you as an adult trying to keep up with a younger version of yourself!" Toby did not answer, as he had run too far ahead and could not hear Samuel above the cacophony of voices cascading through the market. Samuel looked around, taking some time to survey the contents of the nearby stands.
He had walked through this market many times before, but every sight seemed new and exciting, as though he were seeing it for the first time. Usually, he and Pa went to the market, but this time, Samuel was the adult. Even though Pa had said that he and Toby both were old enough to go to the market alone, Samuel knew that Pa would never send Toby without him. Maybe in a couple of years, Toby would grow up. Samuel had trouble picturing a responsible and obedient Toby, and the possibility that Pa would never let Toby go to the market by himself, no matter how old he was, seemed more likely.
The fruit section was quite crowded, but still Toby had managed to disappear with the cart. Samuel pushed past men and women, some stopped in front of the stands sampling berries and cherries, or smelling and squeezing the larger fruits, and others waddled slowly with the crowd. Some people walked faster, claiming the slightest gap between shoulders and prying their way through. Samuel found himself stuck behind a large family. He looked around at the fruit, tempted to stop at a stand every now and then, but not wanting to block the slow-moving flow of people behind him. Vendors yelled from behind their stands, holding up fruit and yelling prices. Some picked people out of the crowd, trying to sell to them, and a few vendors hollered suggestive phrases at the attractive women who passed by. Samuel watched as a man screamed at one of the vendors who had just catcalled his daughter. The girl, probably around Toby's age, stood behind her father, red-faced and embarrassed. The man threw a few fruits at the vendor before taking off, shoving his way through the crowd with his hand clamped around his daughter's arm. She followed him, stumbling over her own feet.
"Hey, you," the vendor waved at Samuel, and Samuel stared back. "I have the best bananas and mangos in the market," he said. Samuel doubted that, even though he had never tried either of the fruits, which grew in the southern regions of Serkonos. He usually bought whatever was seasonal in Gristol. Some still had berries, but Samuel looked for apples and pears and maybe a few small pumpkins, if there were any yet.
Samuel made his way to the vendor, who held out his arms as if Samuel were his best friend.
"You are lucky today," he said, beckoning Samuel closer to the stand. "I'm having a sale. If you buy two mangoes, I'll throw in three bananas for half-price." He gave Samuel a wide grin.
"Oh, I don't usually eat either," said Samuel, backing away.
"Well, I'll tell you what," said the man. "You look like you've had a hard day." He gestured at Samuel's muddy clothes. Samuel nodded. "So, just for you, I'll give you two bananas for free if you buy five mangoes for half-price. Plus, I'll throw in these papayas and this kiwi." He held up the fruit that had just been thrown at him, shoving it toward Samuel's face, as if it would make it appear more appetizing. "Plenty for the whole family, eh? Are you married? Your wife and kids will love these. They're so sweet, like candy. A good treat. Smell them! You won't be able to resist."
"No, no thanks," said Samuel. Someone in the crowd shoved past him, bumping his arm.
"It's a great deal," the man said. "You won't find this anywhere else, and I'm making this special offer just for you."
"No," said Samuel. "It's not for me." Without saying another word, Samuel jumped into the crowd. He could hear the man calling after him, but quickly, he lost interest, yelling to a woman traveling with three children.
As Samuel walked, he looked for Toby, straining his neck as he peered over the heads of the crowd. He was not worried, yet, but he knew he would feel better knowing where his younger brother had gone.
He finally found Toby in the bakery section arguing with one of the bakers.
"Why?" Samuel heard him say.
"I'm sorry," said the baker. "We were losing money. Nobody here is rich enough to spend that much coin on one slice of cake."
"Can't you just bake one for me?" Toby leaned forward. "Please!"
"Kid, I can't just bake one slice of cake, and we do all of our baking early in the morning. I'm sorry. You might try the bakery by Overlook Hill, okay?" The baker shooed him away.
"Toby," Samuel called. Toby stood in front of the stand, his eyes fixed on the ground. Samuel approached, and his younger brother looked up with a tight smile.
"Just wanted some sweets," he said, blinking.
"All of these are too expensive," Samuel said, looking around at the colorful tarts and fluffy, cream-colored cakes lined up on decorated stands.
"Yeah," said Toby. Samuel followed him to the cart, which was at the end of the bakery section. The vegetables in the basket mixed with the other groceries to form a diverse stew of fruits, bags of flour, cornmeal and sugar, packets of yeast, eggs, cheese, and assorted meats. Samuel could not help but be impressed.
"Toby," he said, grinning. "You got everything on the list, but how -" Samuel quickly opened his pouch to find that it was almost empty. He scowled.
"I did what I was supposed to do with the money, didn't I? Some man even sold me some strange fruit for cheap," said Toby, posing proudly. "Why don't we get this kind of fruit?" He held up a banana.
"Because it's imported from Serkonos, and it's expensive," said Samuel. Toby shrugged.
"How did I get it for so cheap, then?" he said. Samuel groaned.
"Why haven't you changed since you were about five?" he said. "I think the man expects us to come back to get more if we like it." He looked around. "I think he's the only one who sells those." Toby reached into the cart, pulling out a banana. It was long and green. Toby studied it for a moment and then peeled it.
"You're eating our groceries, already?" Samuel said.
"We can just eat these now," Toby said. "Pa and Ma don't know that we bought them." He bit into the strange, fleshy fruit and grimaced. Chewed chunks of soft, white fruit coated in saliva landed in front of Samuel's feet.
"Toby!" said Samuel, jumping back.
"How can anyone eat this?" Toby said, wiping his mouth. "It's soft and gritty. Here, try it." He shoved the banana toward Samuel.
"No, Toby, I - " Samuel started. He was interrupted as the banana rammed itself into his face, right above his mouth. "Toby!" Samuel said, swiping the fruit away. It flew to the ground, landing near one of the baker's stands. The baker looked at the fruit unappreciatively and then glared at the boys. Toby burst into laugher as Samuel wiped the fruit from his nose.
"You wanna get that drink, now, Samuel?" Toby said, his shoulders still shaking in laughter.
"Yeah, I guess we'll get a drink now," Samuel said, ruffling his younger brother's hair. Toby pushed his hand away, and Samuel chuckled, knowing that Toby hated it when Samuel ruffled his hair.
"I'm almost as tall as you," Toby said, as he and Samuel made their way through the market, pulling the cart behind them. "I'll grow taller than you - as tall as Pa, and I'll ruffle your hair every day, and then you'll see why I hate it so much." Samuel shook his head.
"No matter how tall you get, you'll always be my little brother," he said. "Even if I have to stand on a ladder to reach the top of your head, I will never stop ruffling your hair - "
"Because you know I hate it?" Toby finished.
"Yes, exactly," Samuel said, shaking his brother's shoulder. Now, Toby laughed.
"Then, no matter what, you'll always be my big brother, which means I'll always find some way to drive you crazy."
"Sounds like a deal," said Samuel, ruffling Toby's hair again.
Samuel and Toby reached the other side of the market, and Toby ran ahead to the alley.
"Come on!" Toby said, waving his arm. Samuel approached the alley to join his brother but found that the cart was too wide to fit into the space between the stone buildings.
"Damn it," he said. "Toby, I can't bring the cart with us." He scanned the area.
"I have an idea," Toby said. Samuel looked at his brother apprehensively.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Let's just hide it," Toby said.
"Where, Toby? We're in a crowded marketplace in the city." Samuel sighed.
"I'll think of something," Toby said, looking around thoughtfully. Samuel rolled his eyes, waiting for his brother to fail to figure something out so they could leave. Toby stepped forward. "I know," he said, looking toward the sea. Toby took one side of the cart, and the brothers headed toward the beach.
"There's nobody at the beach," said Toby. "We can just hide it under some branches or something. Or bury it in sand! Then we can find it and dig it out, like treasure!" Toby laughed like a pirate.
"I don't think Ma and Pa'll be too happy about there being sand in all the food," Samuel said, grinning.
"Why should I care?" Toby said. Samuel's smile faded.
The brothers arrived at the beach to find it completely devoid of both people and sand.
"I told you," Toby said, raising both eyebrows at his brother. Samuel nodded. The two dragged the cart through the sharp rocks, Toby stopping every now and then to throw a stone into the ocean. He found a hoop, once, and hurled it into the water with a smirk. The waves crashed lightly against the shore, bringing the hoop right back to the beach.
"This isn't as bad as rolling the cart through the mud," Toby said, holding the cart's handle tightly.
"Yeah," said Samuel. "But it's almost as bad." The small rocks kept getting lodged in the cart's wheels, and the uneven ground made it difficult for Samuel and Toby to keep the cart upright. Luckily, they soon found what they needed.
"A cave!" Toby pointed to a rocky cliff that dropped from the edge of the market. The boys rolled the cart toward the cave. It was small, so Samuel reasoned that they would not have to worry about animals. He and Toby pushed the cart all the way into the back of the cave, where it could hide in the shadows.
"We did it," Toby said. Samuel glanced back at the cart.
"Do you think it'll be okay?" he said. "I'd hate for someone to find it and steal it."
"It'll be fine," said Toby, making his way back onto the sunlit beach.
Seagulls flew overhead, eyeing the market, but none were bold enough to get too close. Their screams echoed off the rock in discordance with the rolling waves.
Samuel and Toby arrived at the pub only to find that it was closed.
"Well, I was right about it being a pub," Toby said, leaning toward the window in an attempt to get a glimpse inside of the building.
"I guess we'll just go, then. We can get a drink at the bar at home," said Samuel. Toby looked longingly into the pub's window and put his hand up to the glass. "Stop being so overdramatic, Toby," said Samuel. "Let's go."
"Hey." Samuel and Toby turned toward the voice and spotted a homeless man only a few feet away from them. "Ya look just about as dirty as me," he wheezed. "But I can see you boys ain't bums. Yer eyes is too bright. Got too much hope in 'em." A gargling sound came from his throat that Samuel interpreted as a laugh. "This pub here was fer the visitors from the market. Ya know, a nice lil' pub away from the actual city where the tourists can drink with other tourists. Wouldn't wanna run intuh any of the dirty locals," he said. "But none of them folks went there, and the pub started losin' money. Plus the drink prices were real high, and ya don't see a lot of rich people wanderin' 'round here." He held out a tin mug. "I might know where ya can find another bar 'round here, if yer still wantin' that drink." He coughed and smiled through his chapped lips. Samuel shook his head.
"No - "
"Yeah!" said Toby, stepping forward. He grabbed at Samuel's belt and took a coin from the money pouch, and Samuel stared as Toby dropped the coin into the mug. It clattered as it hit the tin bottom, and the man smiled again.
"Thank ya," he said, gargling again. "Now, I know how tuh keep up my end of a bargain. The bar's up this road, here. Make a right down the alley next tuh all the dogs and once ya get tuh the end of that, make a left. There's a black door. That's where it is. Maybe I'll meet ya there later," he said, winking.
"Thanks," said Toby. He nodded.
"No problem, young fella," he said, turning and hobbling away. Samuel looked at Toby.
"I know what you're gonna say, Samuel," Toby said. "So, I'm just gonna head there, and you can catch up once you decide to follow me." Samuel said nothing as Toby sauntered down the road, and soon, he walked alongside his younger brother.
The local bar was not too far from the pub, so they headed down the alleyway "next tuh all the dogs", Toby in the front and Samuel grudgingly following. The alley was cramped, and doors lined the walls.
"I didn't know people could live this close," Toby said, dragging his hand along the stone. He slowed down, touching his fingers to the door of a small apartment. It had been painted red, but the color had faded and the paint was chipped from years of neglect. Samuel could hear the screams and giggles of small children coming from inside the buildings. Clothes hanging from clotheslines dried overhead, and alley cats roamed through the garbage. The mouth-watering scent of fried and roasted meats and rich stews wafted from open windows. Samuel's stomach grumbled, and Toby looked back at him knowingly.
"You think it'll be okay if we invite ourselves to dinner?" he said, only half-jokingly. He looked up at one of the apartments with wanting eyes.
"Come on," said Samuel, putting a hand on Toby's back and pushing him forward. "We'll fill up on ale."
"I like how you think, Samuel," Toby said with a grin.
The brothers made it to the end of the alley and turned left down the stairs. They found themselves in another alleyway, almost identical to the last.
"Here," said Toby, pointing to an unmarked black door. "I think it's this one." He opened the door, revealing a flight of wooden stairs.
"Are you sure?" said Samuel. He looked around, spotting some trash cans. "I think this might be the back door." The brothers peered down the stairs into the darkness.
Toby took the first step, his foot pressing down gingerly on the old wood. It creaked. He took another step. Once he made it to the middle of the stairwell, he stopped and waved Samuel down.
"I hear something," he said. Samuel made his way down the stairs as Toby completed his descent. They found themselves at a wooden door. Dim light streamed through the cracks, and a chorus of muffled voices sounded through the porous wood.
Toby pushed the door open, peering inside, and then opened it wider, stepping into the room. The scene was that of a group of men, sitting around a table, drinking and playing cards. Most looked as though they worked outdoors, and Samuel was used to that, but these men looked - tough. Most had scars and some sported tattoos that ran down their arms. Almost all of them looked strong enough to face Pa in a fight, as they were burly... and armed. A few of them looked nicer than the others and wore cheap suits and hats, but still, a dangerous aura surrounded them. The men laughed and clapped as one dealt cards to the rest around the table. As Toby and Samuel stepped into the room, the door creaked loudly, and all at once, the men fell silent. They turned around to look at the new arrivals, studying them up and down for a few seconds before turning to the table and resuming their activities. Toby raised an eyebrow at Samuel, and Samuel could only shrug back.
"Com'n in, boah!" Samuel heard a voice call from the left. The bartender leaned over the bar, waving them over. He stopped once he saw them and stepped back as Samuel and Toby approached the bar. The old man eyed them suspiciously.
"Who'ere you?" he said, his mouth full of gaps where his teeth had fallen out. On top of that, he had a severe underbite.
"We're from Old Pier. We were in the market and decided we wanted a drink. Someone told us about this place," said Samuel.
"Zah righ'?" said the old man. "Wha'ere name?"
"Samuel. This is my brother, Toby," he said. Toby gave the man a half-grin. The bartender did not smile back.
"Si'dah," he said, turning around toward the cabinet. Samuel sat on one of the stools, folding his arms on the bar. He stifled a sneeze as a cloud of dust rose from its surface. Toby sat next to Samuel and rubbed his nose and eyes.
"Aagh," he said, wiggling his nose.
"Jus' a lil' dus'," the bartender said, setting two glasses in front of them. Samuel studied his. A fine layer of brown dust covered the outside, and the rim was spotted with greasy lip prints. "Ya ga' fancy ba' whe'you come fum?" Toby looked at the man with wide eyes and then turned to Samuel.
"No, no, it's not fancy," said Samuel. "Our bar isn't as dusty as this, is all. It's owned by a nice family with two children." Samuel paused. "This bar's nice too," he added. The bartender chuckled, producing a breathy whistling sound from his throat and ending it with a phlegmy cough. He spat into a crumpled, cloth napkin, wiping his lips and throwing the cloth back behind the bar.
"Ya don' say. Zem chu'dun meh naih workuh'," said the old man, his mouth hovering open after the last word. He squinted. "Ya nuh Mihey Smih?" he said. "Ya relaeh? Ya bruh luh lie'em."
"Mickey Smith?" said Samuel. "No, I don't know him, and we're not related to him."
"Oh," said the man, looking disappointed. Toby picked up his glass and wobbled it on the bar in the silence that followed. The bartender seemed to understand.
"Wha' ya wan'?" he said. Toby understood that one.
"Whiskey!" he said, proudly. Samuel looked over at his younger brother. Of course he would have whiskey. Toby had been drinking since he was old enough to sneak out of the house without getting caught. Samuel ordered beer. The bartender replaced Samuel's dirty glass with a filthy glass mug and filled it, and then he moved on to Toby.
"Name's Juh," he said.
"Joe?" said Samuel.
"Yup," said the bartender, turning to put the bottle of whiskey back on the shelf.
"Good to meet you," said Samuel.
"Yup," Joe repeated. He walked away, leaving the boys alone.
"We don't have that much money left," Samuel said quietly, leaning over to his brother's ear. Toby nodded.
The brothers drank silently, letting the noise of the men sitting at the table fill the space for them. Samuel found himself anxious to get home. All he wanted to do was sleep. Toby, however, still seemed to have energy. He finished his whiskey.
"I wonder what the rest of this place is like," he said.
"What do you mean?" asked Samuel.
"Don't you wanna see the rest of the city? You aren't curious about it? We could just walk around," Toby said, elbowing his brother in the arm.
"No, Toby," Samuel said. "No."
"Aw, Samuel - "
"No." This time Samuel was determined to not let Toby win. "We're already farther into the city than I wanted to go. Plus, we need to go check on our cart." Samuel thought about their cart, filled with food. They had just abandoned it in a cave. What was he thinking? Toby took a sip from his glass.
"I'll go check on the cart, okay? Will that make you feel better?" Toby talked to Samuel as if he were a child.
"Why don't we both go check on the cart and then take it home?" Samuel's head started to ache.
"You need to finish your drink," said Toby, pointing at Samuel's mug, which was still almost full. Toby emptied his glass and set it on the bar with a loud clank. "You don't wanna waste money, Samuel," said Toby, waving his finger like Ma.
"Fine, go check on the cart," Samuel said. He felt as though there were weights attached to his arms and legs. "Then come right back, do you hear me?"
"Yes, Ma," Toby said, downing his glass and jogging to the door. Without another word, Samuel turned back to his beer and found himself wondering how all of the liquid could fit into his bladder. He took a swig, smacking his lips and leaned forward on the bar.
He looked at Toby's glass and then at the bartender. Had he seen Toby finish his glass more than once? Suddenly, dread filled his stomach. Samuel peeked into his pouch, counting three coins, looking up every now and then to make sure Joe wasn't looking. The old man had his back to him as he counted bottles in the liquor cabinet. Samuel tapped his hand anxiously. He wasn't sure how many whiskeys Toby drank, and he had already taken a few more swallows of beer, thinking that Toby was still sipping his first drink. Samuel was pretty sure that he didn't have enough money to pay for their drinks, but he wanted to wait for Toby to return. Maybe Samuel was mistaken and his brother did only have one drink.
"What time is it?" Samuel asked the old bartender. Joe turned around.
"S'abou' four," he said, turning back to the liquor cabinet. Samuel and Toby could still spare a few hours, assuming that there wasn't another storm, but still Samuel thought it would be wise to leave soon.
The bar was quieter now, and Samuel turned around to look at the circular table. Now, only three men sat at the table. They were the well-dressed ones in suits. One shuffled a deck of cards, and the others smoked and sat silently. The dealing man looked up and caught Samuel's eye, giving him a venomous glare, until he looked away. Samuel put his arms on the dusty bar and tapped his finger. The bartender took his mug to refill it before he could say anything.
"Oh, no, I don't - " Samuel said, as Joe grabbed the mug from in front of him.
"Wha'?" said Joe, placing the newly-filled mug back on the bar.
"Nothing," Samuel said, taking a swig. Suddenly, he was tempted to stay and just keep drinking.
"Hey, kid," a gruff voice sounded from behind him. Samuel turned around. The card dealer stared back at him with sharp eyes. "We need a forth," he said.
Samuel looked at the men, silently.
"Get over here," said the man on the right. "Grab yer drink." He kicked a chair out from under the table. It scooted toward Samuel, scraping on the hardwood floor.
"It's jus' cards," the card dealer said. "We ain't gonna hurt you, kid, 'less you try to cheat us." He motioned for Samuel to join them. "Now, come on."
Samuel got up from his stool and grabbed his beer, making his way slowly toward the table. The men had turned back around, and the card dealer watched him silently.
"You know how to play the Game of Nancy?" he said as Samuel sat down.
"Yeah," he said. "Not too good, though." Samuel had played the Game of Nancy at the local pub with Pa's drinking buddies a few times. He did not understand it at all when he first started playing, but the last time he played, he did better than before.
"I'll tell you what, the first game'll be practice. That sound good to you?" Samuel nodded, not quite understanding. "What's your name, son?" he said, taking a sip of whiskey.
"Samuel," he said, reaching for his beer.
"They call me Last Shot Thompson," said the card dealer. He wore a brown suit, and his hair and thin moustache were slick with grease. "This un's Ratchett." He pointed to the swarthy man on the right.
"Call me Hatchet," he said, stroking his bristled chin with a beefy hand. Last Shot ignored him.
"And this is Pike." Pike nodded from Samuel's left.
"What brings you here?" Last Shot asked, clutching the cards in his hand.
"I just came from the market," said Samuel. "Wanted a drink."
"From where?" Last Shot took a sip of whiskey from the glass in front of him. He leaned back.
"Old Pier," he said. Last Shot nodded, his eyes flashing to Hatchet and then Pike. The men chuckled, and Samuel shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
The men fell silent again as the door opened behind him. Samuel turned around to see an extremely tall man. He was slim with light, sandy hair and blue eyes. His face was tanned and dotted with stubble. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a lighter, jamming a cigarette between his lips. He smiled as the lighter burst to life, and he held it up to his cigarette, inhaling as it lit. The man walked forward toward the table, putting the cigarette between his fingers and exhaling through his nose, and eyed each of the men. His gaze lingered on Samuel.
"Who's this?" he said, seating himself in the chair to Last Shot's right after Pike stood, pulling his empty chair from the table.
"This here's Samuel," said Last Shot. "From Old Pier. Said he was at the market an' wanted a drink."
The tall man grunted and took another puff from his cigarette. Samuel carefully examined the man, trying not to stare. He wore an expensive-looking three-piece suit in charcoal-gray and sported a matching, gray boulder hat, which he did not remove.
"Mickey Smith," he said, gripping the cigarette between his teeth and holding out his hand. Samuel shook it. The man's grip was strong, and Samuel squeezed back, hoping he didn't seem too weak. Mickey Smith looked around at the men sitting at the table as though he were amused. His tan face crinkled around his bright blue eyes as he grinned. "Old Pier," he said thoughtfully. "Never been there. It far from here?"
"About a two-hour walk," Samuel said, politely. The other two men watched him with hawk eyes. "But the walk took longer this time, since there was a big storm. We kept getting stuck in the mud." Samuel gave a light chuckle.
Mickey grunted, disinterested in Samuel's reply.
"You say 'we'," he said. "Who else you come here with?"
"My brother, Toby," said Samuel. He opened his mouth to say more, but the man looked away again. Mickey turned to Last Shot.
"Who's the taker this round?" he said.
"Ratchett," he said, gesturing toward the man on Samuel's right.
"It's Hatchet, now," he said in a gruff voice, nodding at Mickey. Last Shot stifled a taunting snicker.
"Take my place," Pike said, still standing by the table.
"Thank you... Pike, right?" said Mickey. Pike nodded. "That's kind of you." Pike gave him a quick, polite smile. Samuel had the feeling that Pike was not giving his seat up as a favor.
"I'll be goin' now, boss," Pike said, waving briskly at Last Shot. Last Shot nodded once, and Pike turned to leave.
"Cigarette, kid?" Mickey said, reaching into his pocket.
"No, thanks," Samuel said slowly, turning the corners of his lips upward in a fake smile. "I don't smoke."
"Yeah? Huh," Mickey said, raising an eyebrow as though Samuel were some strange novelty.
Mostly everyone in Old Pier smoked, but since neither Pa or Ma had picked up the habit, Samuel never felt the desire to smoke.
"Look at those men, hacking away," Pa had said to him once when they were on the pier. Samuel looked over at the other fisherman, coughing and spitting as they worked. "You wanna stay strong, Samuel, you don't smoke."
Toby however, would smoke occasionally. Samuel had caught him a few times with some of the village boys, smoking and drinking in the warehouse after hours, but Toby had never made a habit of it.
"Here, kid. Shuffle," said Last Shot, leaning over the table to hand the cards to Samuel. He shuffled them as well as he could, aware of the three men's eyes on him the entire time. He passed the cards to Mickey on his left, and he cut the deck before handing the cards back to Last Shot.
Last Shot dealt the cards, and Samuel looked around the table, taking in what he could see, and then he looked down at his own cards.
"Did you all hear about -" Hatchet started.
"Kid, what the hell are you drinkin'?" Mickey said. Samuel looked around, thinking he had done something wrong in the card game. Mickey reached for his mug. "Didn't your momma ever tell you you're not supposed to drink piss?" he said. "Hey, Joe!" Joe's head popped from behind the bar.
"Whiskey for the kid," he said.
"Arigh'," said the bartender, leaving again. He soon reappeared with a glass - a clean one - for Samuel and a bottle of Dunwall Whiskey. He left it on the table.
"Alright," Mickey said, smirking ambitiously. "Now, we can play." He looked at the middle of the table. "Nobody's bettin'?" he said.
"Yeah, just this round, Mickey," Last Shot said. "I told the kid we'd do a practice round."
"Practice round?" Mickey said. He reached over to put his hand on Samuel's shoulder. "Look, kid, the first thing you gotta learn about life is that there ain't no practice rounds." He patted Samuel's back. "So, place yer bets." The men threw a few coins in the middle of the table and then waited for Samuel.
"Go ahead, kid," Mickey said. Samuel looked into his pouch and picked out a coin, sacrificing it on the water-stained table. Mickey chuckled, catching a glimpse inside Samuel's pouch. "There's always somethin' else to bet," he said. Samuel didn't like the sound of that.
By the end of the round, the taker had lost, and Mickey, Last Shot, and Samuel divided the money amongst themselves, Mickey getting the highest cut and Samuel getting the lowest.
For the next round, Last Shot was the taker, and to Samuel's relief, he lost. Samuel watched as his small pile of money grew and found that he felt more relaxed now that he was into the game. The whiskey flowed, and Samuel lost track of how much he drank, as his glass was automatically refilled by either Hatchet or Mickey.
The game went better than Samuel thought it would, and he found that he was not as bad at the Game of Nancy as he thought he was. Each round seemed to go faster as Samuel and the men emptied the bottle of whiskey. Hatchet was the taker for the next round, and he lost. Then Last Shot again, and he lost. In the next round, though, Mickey was taker. He scanned the table with shrewd eyes.
"You know," he said as they played. "Last Shot, I got a proposition for you."
"Yeah?" said Last Shot. "What is it?" He looked through his cards.
"I've made some new friends in Dunwall and expanded my business," he said. "I'd appreciate it if you could maybe find some people to send to me. Ones you don't have to pay that much." Samuel listened to the conversation, trying not to lose track of the game. Mickey was doing well.
"I can do that," said Last Shot. "For double."
"Now, now," said Mickey. "You know I don't pay fixed salaries, Last Shot. Let's see how much you're able to bring to me. I'll give you a fair trade. You know I'm good for it."
"Yeah, I know," Last Shot said. "Alright. I know you won't cheat me." He held out his hand, holding his cards in his other.
"Never," said Mickey, reaching out his own hand.
Samuel looked to Hatchet, who was engrossed in the game. He redirected his gaze at Last Shot, only to find the man staring at him.
"You good with people?" he asked, taking a sip of whiskey.
"I guess," Samuel said. "Pretty good." Last Shot nodded approvingly.
"I can tell. It's a good skill to have, kid." The man's gaze dropped to his cards, and he said nothing more.
The game ended quickly with Mickey winning, but Samuel was content with his coin, seeing as it was more than he had arrived with. However, there was still the bill to worry about. He stared down as his empty whiskey glass. Mickey stood up.
"Joe!" he said. Joe appeared behind the bar.
"On'a house," he said. "Ya bra's too," said Joe, pointing at Samuel. Suddenly, he felt great, but his brother...
Toby still had not returned.
"What time is it?" he called to Joe.
"'Bout si'o' cloh," said the bartender. Samuel felt his heart beat faster.
"Hey kid." Mickey stood next to him, holding out his hand. Samuel shook it, forcing a smile. "Nice meetin' ya. Lemme know if you're ever in Dunwall and need a job. Just ask around for me," he said. He nodded at the rest of the men, who nodded back.
Soon, the three of them had left, and Samuel found himself alone, except for Joe, who was in the back. Samuel paced around the room a few times. He had drank much more than usual, and his vision swam. Suddenly, the bar felt stuffy and Samuel stumbled up the stairs, not bothering to say goodbye to Joe.
"Where the hell is Toby?" he said to himself. Samuel looked around and realized that he would have to go looking for his brother. He sighed and resigned himself to his fate, trudging down the road.
Samuel first tried looking for Toby by the cart, but he realized, after turning down a few streets, that he did not know the way. The whiskey clouded his mind, and a few wrong turns later, he had no idea how to get back to the bar or the market, but he figured that Toby would not be at the cart if he had taken so long to return.
Either that, or the cart was missing when he got there, Samuel thought. Either scenario resulted in Toby wandering through the city, so Samuel wandered as well, hoping that he would run into his younger brother.
The sun started to set, and the streets had emptied. Samuel wandered about the main roads, trying to keep what was left of his bearings and avoid small alleyways. However, the streets started to look familiar, and Samuel thought that he would have no choice but to search the alleys for Toby. A woman and a little boy, both thin and frail, emerged from one of the alleys, turning toward an old wooden door leading into an apartment building.
"Um, Ma'am," he said. "I need to ask you a question." The woman looked at him, alarmed, and pushed her child away, shielding him with her legs. She fumbled with her key, sticking it into the door and twisting. It groaned loudly and clicked.
"No, I just need to ask you - " The woman opened the door, pushing the child in first and then entering the building herself. "I'm looking for - " Samuel started again, but the woman slammed the door behind her, and he was alone again.
Samuel looked around. He could tell that he was not in a good neighborhood. The stone buildings were older here, stained dark with soot and worn from age.
Samuel caught a flash of movement far in front of him.
"Hey," he said, running. "Wait!" The figure stopped and turned, but all Samuel could see was a shadow among more shadows. He neared the unknown person and saw that it was a woman. She wore a torn and stained dress and cloth shoes. She had thrown a shawl over her head and held it closed with her hands. She faced Samuel, waiting for him to arrive. At first, Samuel thought she was an old woman, but up close, he could see that she was only middle-aged, but she was very thin. Samuel wondered if she was ill. The woman smiled, making him shiver. She stared at him with hungry eyes.
"Greetings," she said with a slight bow. "What can I help you with this evening, young man?" she croaked. The woman hunched over and adjusted her shawl. Samuel could see her bones showing through her dress.
"I'm so happy to find someone here who'll actually talk to me," Samuel said, hoping he did not look as scared as he was.
"It's not the best idea to talk to strangers in these parts," said the woman. "It can be treacherous. Dangerous folk with dark minds live around here."
"I always thought Potterstead was a pretty well-off city," said Samuel. The woman smiled and did not reply. Samuel cleared his throat. "I'm looking for my brother," he said. "Have you seen him? He's a little shorter than me with light brown hair."
"Hm," said the woman, putting a finger to her chin. "In fact... Lori!" she turned her head to the open door and shouted into the building. After hearing a few moments of shuffling and footsteps, another woman appeared in the door. She was younger than the first, but just as pale and thin. The skin around her eyes was red and loose.
"Yes, Lady Rosethorne?" she said.
"A boy - We had a boy come by, did we not?," said the woman. "Is he still here?" She raised an eyebrow. Lori looked from Lady Rosethorne to Samuel and back at Lady Rosethorne again.
"Yes," she said, with a determined nod of the head. "He's still resting."
"Poor dear," Lady Rosethorne said, frowning. "Came in here scared and shaking. There are all sorts of horrible people around here." She waved Lori away. "Why don't you come in, dear?" Samuel started to step forward but stopped himself.
"I don't know if you have the right person," said Samuel, eyeing the woman suspiciously.
"Light brown hair? He has your eyes, too," said Lady Rosethorne, smirking slyly.
"What did he say?" Samuel asked.
"Sorry, dear?" she said.
"When he came here, what did my brother say to you?"
"Oh..." Lady Rosethorne stopped to think. "He said he was looking for his brother. He had gotten lost. I didn't want him out at night. He probably wouldn't have survived until morning, so I invited him inside. It's a very rare thing for us to have guests with our condition."
"Condition?" said Samuel. Lady Rosethorne looked down.
"Well, as you can see, I'm not exactly healthy," she said in her slow, sing-song voice. "Lori didn't look like she was feeling very well, either, did she?"
"No," said Samuel. Lady Rosethorne smiled - almost too sweetly.
"We are all like that here. All of us women, and all of us sick." Samuel took an instinctive step backward, but Lady Rosethorne held out a shaky hand. "No, dear, you won't catch anything from us. Don't worry about that. Most of us rot, eaten by our disease, but we cannot spread it." She sighed as though she were disappointed. "That is why this is called a house for the dead." Samuel looked up at the sign on the front of the building. The name had been painted onto old wood, but it was chipped and worn.
Lady Rosethorne's House for the Dead
"We run as a sick house," she said to Samuel. "We gather here together, those of us who had no hope. The sick come here to have each other, and," she whispered. "Sometimes we work to heal ourselves through certain - spiritual - practices, but do not tell the overseers. Though we rot to death, it is better than burning."
"Don't worry," said Samuel. "I know how to keep my mouth shut."
"Good," Lady Rosethorne said, frowning suddenly. "So, you will come in to see your brother? Perhaps he is awake by now."
"No..." said Samuel, hesitantly. "I don't think you have the right person."
"Oh, but how will you know if you don't have a look? You could search for him the whole night, having missed him right here," said Lady Rosethorne. Something didn't seem right about the situation to Samuel. He doubted Toby would knock on a door scared and shaking, so he was almost certain that they did not have his brother - even if they did find a boy - and the look the woman kept giving him, of hunger, like a predator about to strike down its prey, made him uneasy. Whatever was going on, Samuel felt as that it was not a good idea to enter the building.
"It's just us women. We are frail and sickly. Surely, you cannot be afraid of us?" she gave him her thin smile again, spreading her hawkish face and twitching as Samuel stepped backward.
"It's not a good idea," said Samuel. He tried to peek inside, but there was only darkness through the threshold.
"Surely, you are tired, dear. How about some tea before you continue your search?" the woman put both of her hands out. Her fingernails were long and unkempt, and her hands reminded Samuel of sharp talons.
"No," said Samuel. He backed away. Lady Rosethorne put her arms down and clenched her shawl.
"Very well, then," she said, calmly. "Please know that if you should need a place to stay tonight, the invitation still stands." She nodded with a smile on her face but anger in her eyes.
"Thank you, Lady Rosethorne," said Samuel, making his way briskly back to the street.
"Goodbye, young man," she said. "Come back and visit us soon. We poor women do love company."
It was fully night, now, and the streets were dark, except for the occasional lamp and the dim candlelight flickering from dusty windows. Samuel tried to keep from stumbling as he made his way blindly, once again, through the streets of Potterstead. He had completely lost his way, now, owing his disorientation to the many streets and alleyways in the city, the darkness, and his intoxication. The whiskey lurched in his stomach as his body begged for food. He ignored it, focusing on finding his way through the black streets. Somehow, he found his way out of the maze of buildings and alleys and found a street with some light ahead. Many lanterns had been lit, and the insides of the buildings had dim light as well. Samuel even thought he saw some people standing around. He suddenly remembered what Lady Rosethorne had said about the neighborhood being dangerous. He did not know who the people ahead were. He squinted, trying to get a better view, but it was no good. He neared slowly, trying to stay hidden in the dark.
"Hey." Samuel heard a voice echo toward him. He had been spotted, but the voice did not sound threatening. It was a female voice. "Who's that in the dark, there? Don't be shy." A thin woman sauntered toward him, her hips swaying back and forth. The others seemed to notice him, as well.
"Hey, handsome!" he heard another voice shout. Samuel cursed under his breath. He looked behind himself, but all he could see was the maze of alleys from which he had just freed himself.
"Why you standin' here all alone, big boy?" The woman had made it to Samuel and hooked her arms around his. He tried to grab his arm away, but she held on firmly. Samuel could see her face now. She was covered in dirt and soot and wore a short, red dress with a corset on top. The dress was stained and torn. Samuel could see bruises on the woman's face, and makeup streamed from her eyes down to her cheeks, framing her bright red-painted lips. She smiled, showing off the gaps in her rotted and crooked teeth. "Why don't you come with me?" she said, pulling his arm. "You don't wanna be out here alone. It's dangerous. Come inside... where it's safe." She dragged him toward the door, and Samuel yanked his arm away. He took a deep breath. The only way out of here was to go down that street. The women eyed him hungrily. Samuel was reminded of Lady Rosethorne and her predator-like eyes.
Samuel strode forward, picking up speed as he made his way through the group of aggressive prostitutes. They blew him kisses and grabbed at his arms. He smelled perfume, sickeningly sweet combined with the odor of the women's bodies. Suddenly, Samuel felt very determined to find Toby, hopefully alive, just so he could kill him again. The women surrounded Samuel, like wolves snapping at his heels, but eventually, Samuel made it to the end of the street. Some of the prostitutes still followed, but they stopped after a few blocks, howling after him.
Samuel stooped over, gagging, the whiskey threatening to rise from his stomach. He spat on the ground, but luckily, nothing else came up, and he stood and opened his eyes to stabilize himself.
He found himself on a shopping street, illuminated by lanterns. He looked around at the closed shops. They all seemed to be newly-painted, and their windows were clean and clear. Samuel approached one and looked at the name on the sign overhead, which read: Francesca's Fashions. He peered through the store window, catching glimpses of women's dresses, blouses, and pants. A large display of hats sat on a shelf to the left, and the store seemed to be decorated in some sort of patterned wallpaper, though it was too dark for Samuel to see the exact pattern and color of the walls. He had run two blocks from the poorest part of town, and now he found himself on a shopping street for the high-class citizens of Potterstead.
Samuel had heard that none of the nobility lived in Potterstead, but a few rich businessmen lived with their families in a small community at the top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the city and the ocean.
I must've walked all the way to the other side of the city, Samuel thought. He looked around and found himself worrying about Toby again. He knew that Toby was not stupid. He could take care of himself, as long as he didn't get into too much trouble. Samuel hoped that Toby had found a safe place to stay and hadn't roamed the streets all night long.
Samuel wandered close to the buildings, peering in at the shops though the windows. There were no bars over them, and he wondered how the shops managed to not get robbed, as the shopping street was so near to the dangerous neighborhood from which had just come. In the distance, Samuel could see the road curve back and forth up the hill, probably leading to the large houses belonging to the well-off citizens of Potterstead. He wondered what they looked like. He had never seen the home of a rich person. He had heard that they sprawled across the land, as big as villages and sometimes two to four stories high. Samuel gazed up the hill, considering climbing it, since he hadn't found Toby yet, but he also doubted that his little brother would have gone there.
He stopped by a lantern post, watching the mosquitoes and moths zigzag frantically under the flickering light. Maybe Toby had returned to the bar to find Samuel gone. Samuel turned around, wondering how he would find his way back to the market and was tempted to wait until morning so that he could see better.
He walked alongside the shops, pondering what he should do next. The empty shopping street was a bit of peace nestled into the chaotic city, and Samuel wished he could stay, as he was not ready to face the dark and mean alleys of the rest of the city again. But Toby was still out there. Samuel found himself genuinely worried. Finally, he decided to head up toward the rich part of town to see if Toby had made his way there. Samuel's feet hurt, and the steep hill looked ominously tiring, but he had to find his brother. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The shops next to him were all connected, and Samuel passed by each one, catching his reflection in the glass. He really did look homeless. He glanced ahead and saw another homeless person sleeping on the ground in front of one of the shops. He looked as out of place as Samuel, and for a few seconds, the illusion of the shopping street broke away. This place was not a part of Potterstead, just as the pub was not. It was a bubble. Fragile and easily broken.
The feeling left Samuel almost as soon as it arrived, leaving him feeling as though it had never existed at all. The homeless man had not moved, and Samuel made his way toward him. He could see the man better, now, noting that he had curled up in front of a bakery. The man's clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and his shoes were caked in mud. Samuel glanced down at his own shoes, which looked very similar. He looked up again at the homeless man and caught a glimpse of sandy hair.
"Toby?" Samuel said. The figure stirred, and let his gaze wander the space around him before locking eyes with Samuel. "Damn it," said Samuel, "Where the hell were you?" He stomped toward his brother, whose bright blue eyes glowed against his mud-stained skin and clothes.
"Samuel..." Toby said, looking down at the ground.
"Why didn't you come back? I've been looking for you for hours. We're late, and Pa is gonna be furious. What were you thinking?" Samuel yelled. "Of course, Pa'll blame me for being late and making Ma worry. I told him that he didn't have to worry, and that I'd make sure to be back by - "
"Why didn't you just leave?" said Toby. Samuel could hear the strain in his voice. "You should've left me and gone back home, where you belong." He sniffled.
"What is it, Toby?" Samuel said. "Why would you think that I would just leave you? I searched everywhere for you, and you're - here - sleeping in the street. I don't understand why you keep doing things like this. Do you want me to get in trouble with Pa? Is that it? Do you not like that I don't get in trouble, so you've been trying to get me into it? All those times you've disappeared and made me cover for you, all those times you never showed up when you said you would? Is that what it's all about?"
"No!" cried Toby.
"Then what is it?" Samuel said. Toby stayed silent. "You always have something to say, Toby, and now you're not going to talk to me?"
"I don't know what to tell you, Samuel!" Toby yelled. "You're always so hard on me. You're always disapproving of everything!"
"I always go along with your plans. How is that disapproving? How am I hard on you? I let you get away with everything," said Samuel.
"And complain the whole time. Why can't you at least pretend that you're happy to spend time with me?"
"What are you talking about?" Samuel growled.
"You just agree with me so I'll shut my mouth," Toby said, his face turning red.
"I agree with you because you'll just go off by yourself if I don't."
"Then you spoil all of it by complaining. You're the one who needs to shut up." Toby pointed at Samuel, lunging forward.
"Your plans aren't safe or smart most of the time. You just went wandering around an unknown city in the middle of night," Samuel exclaimed.
"So did you,"
"Looking for you!" Samuel paced in a circle, attempting to calm himself.
"Maybe I was looking for something too," Toby said as he clenched his fists.
"What?" Samuel said, turning on his brother.
"I - uh," Toby said, stumbling over his words. He bit his bottom lip.
"I don't care. I'm done. Next time I'll just let you get into whatever trouble you want. I won't help you out or follow you and spoil your fun. Are you happy? Oh, and next time you go missing, I'll just leave without looking for you," Samuel said, throwing his hands in the air. He looked at Toby, who had the same expression on his face as he did when Pa scolded him. Not one of fear, but one of indignation.
"Perfect. That's exactly what I wanted. You think you're so grown up, Samuel. All you can do is obey Ma and Pa. When you're not doing that, you're doing whatever I'm doing. Sometimes I think you'd follow me if I jumped off a bridge, since you wouldn't know what else to do. Why don't you go do something by yourself for once?"
"I follow you to keep you - " Samuel said.
"I do just fine. I do what I want. You follow rules, even if you don't want to. You're just a..." Toby struggled to think of a word. "Lap dog! A servant! A whore!" He grunted bitterly. "I don't know why I'm always trying to get your approval, Samuel. You're not even worth it. People are supposed to think for themselves, and you don't. You live just to eat treats from Ma's and Pa's hand. Then Pa hates me because I don't care about his treats, the ones he uses to control you."
" I..." Samuel hesitated. "I'm just not selfish like you. I can do what I want, but I like to look after my family. My parents who feed me and give me shelter, my brother who doesn't do anything, but I look after him anyway."
"Following me and agreeing to do whatever I say is looking after me?" said Toby. "Being obedient to Pa and Ma is looking after them?"
"It's not fair to stress them out and give them extra trouble with all that they've done for us," said Samuel.
"I'm sure the family would fall apart without you," Toby said, nastily.
"It would," said Samuel.
"Yeah, Samuel, you're that important. I'm sure. You're not a lap dog, you're the cement that keeps the family together." Toby shook his head. "You know, that might actually be true. Maybe the family would fall apart without you. Without me, though..." Toby fell silent. Samuel sighed.
"Toby, the whole family loves you - "
"No," Toby interrupted. "You and Pa always find some way to show me that you're disappointed in me. Ma doesn't do it as much, but in a few years, she probably won't remember who I am anyway."
"Don't say that," Samuel growled.
"You know something's wrong with her. She'll probably just wander off one day like her - "
"Toby!" Samuel yelled. "I'm tired. I want to go home. I want to take a bath. I want to go to bed."
"You're not listening," said Toby.
You're not listening," Samuel said. "Now, come on. We're leaving. We can still be back before sunrise."
"But, Samuel - " said Toby. Samuel turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Toby where he found him.
"Samuel!" Toby called again.
"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Come on." He kept walking.
"Samuel, you're not even going the right way," Toby said. Samuel stopped.
"What do you mean?" he said.
Samuel followed Toby down a small alleyway, keeping straight, and suddenly they were in the market. It was closed now, and the stands stood abandoned, giving the deserted marketplace an eerie atmosphere.
Samuel clenched his fists and headed to the beach, letting Toby trail slowly behind him. He made his way down the rocks, sliding as they came lose and rolled onto the flat beach. The sharp stones only reminded Samuel how much his feet hurt, and he still had to walk home. Resentment built up inside of him, and he looked back at Toby, who looked as though he had been crying. Samuel opened his mouth to tell Toby that he wouldn't fall for his act and feel bad for him this time. However, Samuel's anger dissipated as he came across an absurd scene. Toby caught up and stood next to him with his mouth open. By the cave, a group of children stood around a cart, carrying lanterns and torches. They whooped and hollered, watching two children stand on either side of it.
"I am the leader of this group!" a tall, familiar boy held his hands up in front of the crowd. "We're the Market Boys' Gang. There are no girls allowed."
"I found it," said a girl on the other side of the cart. She wore a dirty jacket over a gray shirt tucked into brown pants. Her shoulder-length, tea-stained hair was frizzy and tangled. She stepped forward. "It's mine, so if I share it with you, I join your gang." The boys around the circle fussed at each other, some supporting the boy and others siding with the girl.
"How can you all betray the gang?" said the boy. "We can take this food by force! She's just one girl." Noise erupted again from the crowd.
"Not without a fight," the girl said, picking up a stick. She reached over the cart and bopped the boy on the head. The crowd cheered.
"Fight, fight, fight!" they chanted. The boy stepped away from the cart, and one of the boys in the crowd supplied him with a stick. The other children stood back as the boy and the girl moved to face each other.
"I, Sadie, challenge Len, leader of the Market Boys' Gang, to a fight."
"Ha, get ready. I'll beat you in no time!" yelled Len.
"If you win, you get the cart and all the food - "
"I can taste the food now!" Len laughed melodramatically.
"And if I win, I get to join the gang!" She paused. "No, I get to be the leader." The boys gasped, whispering to one another. Sadie put her stick in the air. "And then we feast!" she said, drawing a cheer from the crowd.
Samuel groaned as he watched the children, not quite sure what to do.
"Could anything else stop us from leaving?" Samuel complained. Toby shrugged.
"At least the cart's still there. We didn't leave it in the best spot," Toby said. Samuel glared at him.
"You said - "
"I just wanted a drink," Toby said.
Loud cheers erupted from the cave, and the two children stood across from each other, swinging their sticks. Len ruthlessly swiped at Sadie's head, kicking her in the shins and stomping on her feet when he could. Sadie circled him, trying to get around to hit Len in the back. Suddenly, she screamed and lunged, knocking him backward. He tripped, falling over his feet and ending up on the ground. The boys cheered wildly as the girl beat him, first breaking his stick, then repeatedly hitting his face. Len covered his head, crying and screaming as blood flew from his nose and through his fingers. Shouts of "Sadie!" sounded from the crowd.
"Sadie as leader!" someone said. "Sadie, Sadie!" they cheered.
"No!" said Len, choking on blood.
"Sadie! Leader! Sadie! Leader!" Now the whole crowd cheered, and Sadie held her bloody stick up in savage victory.
"Okay," Samuel said. "Toby, come on, we're getting our cart back."
"But, I wanted - " Toby started. Samuel grabbed his arm and strode toward the cave. The cheering subsided as Samuel pushed through the crowd with Toby behind him.
"Who are you?" Sadie demanded, pointing her stick at Samuel.
"This is our cart," Samuel said, flatly. "We're taking it now and leaving." Sadie jumped forward, swinging her stick toward Samuel.
"Not without a - " Samuel grabbed the cart, wrenching it toward himself. He charged through the crowd of boys, pulling the cart, and Toby cleared the way in front of him, mercilessly shoving the children aside. Some of them booed, and others pulled at his clothes. Samuel felt a few rocks hit his back.
"They're hitting me!" Toby said, as some children tried to surround him and hit him with sticks.
"Keep going!" Samuel said. The brothers ran with the cart away from the beach and back to the road, until the children gave up and abandoned the chase.
Samuel and Toby stopped, collapsing to the ground and panting. Toby giggled.
"That was great," he said, looking to Samuel. Samuel did not smile back. He stood and pulled the cart.
"Let's go," he said. Toby frowned.
"You're still mad?" he said. "You never stay mad for long, Samuel."
"I'm glad you've got me all figured out," Samuel said. "I wouldn't know what to do." He tugged the cart forward, making Toby move at a faster pace.
"Fine, Samuel," Toby said. "What should I say? It's all my fault. I mess everything up. You're right, and I'm wrong. Now, do you feel better?"
Samuel's shoes squished as they hit the ground, which was still muddy. He sped up.
"Stop that," Toby said, trying to slow the cart again. Samuel tugged the handle, trying to move ahead, but soon he felt his feet slipping. He put his hands out to keep his balance and stumbled into Toby, knocking his younger brother into the mud. Toby looked up at him in rage.
"So, now you're pretending to stumble into me so you can push me down?" Toby said. "You're too good to just take a swing?"
"Toby, don't be an idiot - " Samuel started.
"What if I told you to? Hey, Samuel, hit me. Right now." Toby rose from the mud and stomped toward his brother. "Now. Do it. I command you to!" He held his hands up dramatically. Samuel turned to grab the cart and continued down the road. He had not made it five steps before he felt something barrel into him from the side, sending him sliding through the mud. He glared up at Toby, getting on his feet before his brother could hit him again. He pushed Toby into the cart and swung his fist at his face; bright red blood flew from Toby's nose as Samuel's fist connected with his flesh. Toby flailed his arms at Samuel, throwing erratic punches. Samuel grabbed Toby and threw him down, kneeling to punch his younger brother again. Toby managed to hit Samuel again as he got close, but Samuel followed up by punching Toby's face again. Samuel, seeing Toby's blood, seized his brother's shoulders and shoved him down. Soon, the boys were wrestling, blood and mud strewn across their faces and clothes. The fight ended after Samuel lay against the cart, refusing to hurt Toby again.
"Come on!" Toby said, his face red.
"No," said Samuel, panting. "We're done."
"We are not finished!" Toby kicked Samuel's foot. "Get up!"
"I do need to get you back home in one piece," said Samuel.
"I'll get myself home in one piece. Apparently I don't have the same responsibility to you, though. Pa already knows that you can get home fine all by yourself," said Toby. Samuel stood up. Tired and beaten, he grabbed the cart and started forward.
"Are you taking your end of the cart?" Samuel asked.
"No," said Toby coldly. "I'm not responsible enough to do anything for this family." Toby turned and headed down the road, refusing to look back at his elder brother.
"Where are you going?" Samuel called.
"To the only person who accepts me as myself," Toby yelled back. "To the only person who says that she loves me and means it!"
Samuel called after his brother again, but even if Toby had heard him, he did not turn back.
Samuel arrived in Old Pier dirty, bloody, hungry, cold, and with aching arms and legs. He dragged the cart of groceries behind him, feeling like an ox. The village was quiet and empty, and no light shined, except for a few lanterns outside of the houses. He made his way past the town's center, where the sermon hall stood, solemn and still as death, but as Samuel passed, the bunk room lights suddenly ignited, as if he had awoken the building, the two bright windows peering at him, like the shining eyes of a monster in the darkness. Samuel stopped to look for a moment, but he saw no figures move within the room. He shivered and continued on, making his way toward the south end of town.
The house was warm as Samuel entered, leaving the muddy cart outside.
"Samuel!" Ma ran to him, cupping his chin in her hands. She kissed his cheeks, and tears ran from her eyes.
"Ma, I'm fine," he said, surrendering to his mother's touch. He looked up at Pa, who glared back at him, silently.
"Where were you?" he said, forcefully. Ma looked back at Pa.
"John, don't do this now," she said. "He's bleeding." She ran to get a rag from the backyard. Pa stepped forward, raising an eyebrow, his mouth chiseled into a frown.
"I..." Samuel started. He looked to Pa's expectant face. "I, um, there was a storm on the way there, and it slowed us down. Then our wagon got stuck... bad. We didn't wanna leave it, so we tried to push it out. It happened a few times too, on the way there and on the way back, I even fell on my face. We didn't get to Potterstead till three." Samuel hoped Pa would believe his lie.
"It took you seven hours to get to Potterstead?" Pa said, crossing his arms.
"Maybe it was two o' clock," Samuel said, looking toward the ground. Pa nodded.
"Well, Samuel, I trust you. So, I'm glad you managed to bring the cart back and get the groceries, and I'm sorry about the storm. Now, one more thing," said Pa. Samuel looked up at him. "Where's your brother?" Samuel gulped.
"At a friend's house - Michael's house." Samuel was pretty sure Toby had not seen Michael in a while. He didn't even know if they were still friends.
"Alright," Pa said, turning around. He passed Samuel, going outside to examine the groceries, but he stopped at the door. "Toby left you to bring the cart by yourself?" he said, looking to Samuel.
"Yeah," said Samuel, rubbing the back of his head. "He was upset for some reason and didn't wanna come home. I didn't wanna force him." Pa left the house to rummage through the cart.
Ma had returned with the cloth and wiped the blood from Samuel's face.
"You poor thing," she said. Her eyes were still red from crying. "That jacket is going straight to the backyard." She took Samuel's jacket, sliding it off his shoulders, and made her way outside.
"Samuel." Pa called him from outside, and Samuel nearly groaned. He trudged out the front door and found Pa digging through the cart. "I sent Toby with some extra money for a slice of cake for your Ma. Did he buy it?" Samuel shook his head. Pa's face darkened.
"That boy," he said. His hands clenched the cart. "Damn it, I bet he ran off with the money too. I saved for weeks to afford that ridiculously expensive cake. He's probably drinking with his friends, even after I told him - "
"I think," Samuel said. "I saw him arguing with a baker who said he didn't have something that Toby was looking for. I just thought he wanted sweets, but..." He trailed off. The redness receded from Pa's face.
"Oh, I see," he said. "And after that, your brother didn't wanna come home?" Samuel nodded. Pa slapped the cart lightly and leaned over the basket, bowing his head.
"Samuel, I started some bath water for you," Ma said as he entered. "What about Toby? Should I get a bath ready for him too?"
"Toby's away for the night," Samuel said, too tired to explain further.
"Oh," Ma said, casting her eyes downward.
"Ma?" said Samuel. "Pa mentioned some expensive cake at the market, and I was wondering if you knew what it was." Ma's face lit up.
"Oh," she said, smiling. "That silly cake. When your Pa and I were younger, we went to the market. I was bearing you at the time, Samuel. You must have been only three to four months then, growing in my womb. Well, we headed to the bakery section, and there was this rich fellow. I remember he looked so out of place, not wanting to touch anything. He had a man trailing behind him, and he did whatever the rich man said.
"Your father and I got our money together to split a tart, and the rich man bought this colorful slice of cake from the baker. Well, he left, and we got our tart. It was all we could afford back then, and it was so small. We ate it in just a few bites, but as we paid for it, John asked the baker what the colorful cake was. The baker told us it was, um," Ma stopped to think. "Five layers, strawberry, vanilla, chocolate cake, hardened caramel, and an entire layer of real chocolate. I don't remember what it was called, but, oh, it sounded delicious." Samuel felt his mouth water.
"I've never had chocolate," he said.
"Neither had we," she said. "But, of course, we couldn't afford the cake, and I was thankful for the tart, but as we left the bakery section, we saw the rich man taste the cake and then spit it out. Then he just set it on one of the stands and left! Well, your father and I didn't wanna seem like poor beggars who just eat food off the street, but..." she gave Samuel a sly smile. "Well, it was the best thing I had ever tasted. Just amazing." Ma put her hands on Samuel's arms. "Maybe one day you'll get to try it. I can save up some money. How does that sound?" She brushed Samuel's hair back with a gentle hand. "You're such a good boy. You deserve a treat."
Samuel frowned.
"I - I think I'd like to take a bath now, Ma," he said. "Thank you."
"Of course, Samuel. Anything for my boy."
Taking a hot bath was a luxury in Old Pier, and at the Beechworth house, the tub was used only after a long day of travel or on a special occasion, as it took much time and effort to boil enough water to fill it.
Before Samuel could object, Ma lugged one of the buckets of water to the stove and picked it up, her tiny body straining from the weight. The stove had already been lit, and Ma added more wood, waiting for the water on top of the stove to boil. Samuel helped her out by taking the hot buckets of water outside to pour into the tub. It was just about half-full, but Ma insisted that she boil more water.
"You're filthy, Samuel," she said. "You'll be bathing in nothing but mud, unless we add more water." So, Samuel waited for the water to boil and once again took it outside when it was ready. While Samuel and Ma readied the bath, Pa sat at the table in quiet contemplation. Samuel opened his mouth to talk to him, but Ma lightly grasped his arm and shook her head.
The bath was finally ready, and Samuel thanked Ma, giving her a kiss on the top of her head. She gave him a tight hug, and then Samuel went out back.
As Samuel relaxed in the hot bath. He could see the steam rise from it in the cool, night air, and he couldn't help but feel calm.
He'll be back by tomorrow morning, just like always, Samuel reassured himself. It was just like any other time Samuel had lied for Toby. He sat back, resting his head on the tub's wooden edge and gazing at the stars. The night looked different from inside the village, the shadows no longer menacing. He could bathe outside in peace, knowing that he was safe, even in the middle of the night. Potterstead seemed like a dream. The absurdity of the entire day spun through Samuel's head. The dusty bar and the old bartender, the card-playing thugs, Mickey Smith, Lady Rosethorne, the hungry prostitutes, the mob surrounding the dueling children - all of it, all in just one day, was nothing he had ever experienced before. He had been to Potterstead plenty of times, but never had he left the marketplace, and as soon as he stepped outside of the market's borders, real city life set in. It was dirty, it was unpredictable, and most of all, it was strange, and those people lived it everyday.
Samuel's small fishing village seemed like the best place to be, and he wondered how he could have ever considered leaving, but a small part of him knew why, and that small part of him knew that even though he had spent the day scared, frustrated, tired, and hungry, he liked it. He had always liked it. It gave his life color where there was none, and every time, it was Toby who made it that way. Samuel did not want to admit it, but even though he loved living a simple life, going off to do something new did not seem like such a bad idea. Samuel knew that he would never do it by himself, though.
Sure, this family might fall apart without me, but I would fall apart without Toby.
Samuel closed his eyes, ridding himself of the thought and clearing his head, but the wind soon brought whispers, calling his name. He thought of the bone charm he had buried in the ground. He imagined it calling to him as it smothered, alone and forgotten, surrounded on all sides by the cold earth. It cried, realizing that there was no hope, that no help would come, and that it would perish. Still it cried. It begged, pleaded for anyone to help. It screamed for Samuel, saying his name over and over again, but soon the name was forgotten, and all it could say was help... help... The cry echoed through Samuel's body, bouncing off his skin and bones, ringing his skull, like a bell.
The air turned cold, and Samuel realized that his bathwater had cooled. He rose from the bath, shivering, and dried himself off, putting on clean clothes. Inside, the lantern had already been extinguished and both Ma and Pa were asleep in the loft. Samuel felt his way to the ladder, holding his hands out in front of him, and crawled under his blanket. He looked over at Toby's empty spot, the blackened quilts left untouched. He assured himself again that Toby was fine and closed his eyes. However, sleep would not come. There was no room for Samuel's own thoughts, and he tossed and turned, stricken by a bout of feverish insomnia, occasionally forcing himself to lay still and let the quiet breathing of his parents lull him to sleep. It was all in vain, though. Samuel's body screamed for rest, but it was a wish he could not grant, because even as he hid in the darkness, with the walls of his warm house separating him from the unknown that dwelled outside, all he could hear was help... help...
