Shera's Diary

Chapter 8

Lenience

By Kristen Gupton-Williams

Dear Diary,

I've been thinking about things since this morning.

Perhaps I'm delusional, honestly losing my mind due to the circumstances that have surrounded me. It seems entirely possible, and with the theory that I came up with today, well, it may just be evidence.

I think I know who's been watching after me as it were. I know this is crazy, but out of everyone here in Rocket…

I think it's the captain.

I wish now that I'd had the nerve to open my eyes last night and see if it was him.

On the other hand, I could just be grasping at straws.

I have absolutely nothing to lose at this point. In the off chance that it is honestly Captain Highwind, or maybe someone working under his orders, I'm going to go see him. He's truly my last chance. I doubt I'm in my right mind at this point.

------------------

Dear Diary,

A strange day today.

After my earlier resolution to go face Captain Highwind, I got myself cleaned up as best I could and walked to his house. I was so nervous during the two-block walk that I had to force myself to take each step. The memory of last night's attempted assault on me kept me going, however.

I wasn't going to have to go to the indignity of knocking on his door to lure him out. While still a fair distance away, I was able to see that he was outside, working under the hood of his pickup truck out in the front yard. His back was to me, and I finally stopped about two yards behind him.

I remained silent for a moment, trying to think of what to say. After all, his last words to me had been to never be near him again. Still, I thought he was the one that had saved me the night before.

Seeming to sense that I was there, he eventually straightened up, still with his back to me. He wiped his grease-laden hands upon the jeans he presently wore, and then turned slowly, leaning back against the truck's grill. His eyes drilled right through me, but it wasn't that last look of hatred, nor surprise. I could see his jaw tense as he looked me over, his mouth taking on a familiar scowl. "What the fuck? You don't listen for shit, do ya?"

My mouth opened, but words failed me for several seconds. "S…Sir, I… I need to know…"

His left hand reached over to the truck's fender, grabbing his pack of Winstons. He lit one up and took a long drag. It was as though he liked watching me struggle. "Know what?"

"Someone has been… leaving me things in my car and… last night, I was attacked and someone saved me. I thought perhaps…" I began to question my sanity once more.

He scoffed, "What in the hell would lead you to even think for a moment that I would ever do shit for you?"

I felt like an idiot. "I didn't think there was anyone else in town that might have--"

The captain cut me off, moving away from the truck and closer, glaring down at me. "I'm the one, Shera, whose life has been torn away from 'em, no fault of my own. I lost my fuckin' job, my dream… everythin'… because YOU decided to fuck with my destiny. Don't you ever delude yourself that I'd go outta my fuckin' way to help you of all people."

I never wanted to cry in front of him. His curses before the failed launch had never gotten to me. I truly felt like my last chance at any sort of salvation had just been taken away from me. It had been my own stupidity and idealism that had let me dare to think he may have been the one. Tears burned in my eyes and soon marked my cheeks, causing me to turn away. "I… I'm terribly sorry… I'll just go…"

"Where? I heard you been livin' in that piece of shit you call a car since the launch day," he clipped back.

"That's very true. Shin Ra cancelled my bank account, my credit card, and evicted me from my apartment. My own mother won't talk to me. I've… I'm just… stuck…" I hung my head, knowing that the wavering in my voice was telling him clearly that I was on the brink and already crying.

"It's supposed to freeze tonight."

I didn't respond to that at all. I wouldn't have known what to say anyway.

"If I let you go back to that damn car and you die of exposure tonight, I'll feel like I killed ya anyway and that scrubbin' the launch to save your ass was a fuckin' waste," he grumbled behind me.

Again, I didn't know what to say to him. I was so hopelessly lost at that point.

"Get your shit outta that car and bring it here. You can stay in my guestroom for a few days until you find a way to get your ass outta my town," Captain Highwind said to me, his voice still angry.

Had I any pride left in me, I would have politely refused his offer. However, my fear of being alone in that car again swept all my reservations aside. If the captain was willing to offer me anything, I would take it. I turned back to face him, offering him the first smile I think I had made since the launch. "Captain, I--"

"Don't say shit to me about it, Shera. This don't mean I like you in any, way, shape, or form. I just can't have your death on my hands. That is the ONLY reason I'm lettin' you into my house. You got me?" He crossed his arms over his chest, his now half smoked cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, Sir." Once more, I smiled at him despite everything.

I hurriedly carried my boxes to the house from the car and into his spare bedroom.

I'd never been in his house before.

It's furnished very sparsely. There's a couch, chair, coffee table, and television in the family room. The walls are paneled with a dark wood. The kitchen is painted, cabinets and all, in a faint yellow, and there's a simple oak table in there, with four chairs. The hallway toward the two bedrooms is again paneled. There is the guestroom, which I am presently in. The bed is a full, and the walls are just a stark white. The bathroom is across the hall and is done in a faded out blue. As for what the captain's room looks like, I don't know. I've not been in there and the door to it is always shut.

I did take a shower after getting my things here and it was the most wonderful thing. I've been allowed to use his washer and dryer and I'm in clean clothes for the first time in far too long. I'm writing all this while sitting on the bed. I won't leave this room other than when I absolutely must.

I know the captain doesn't want to see or hear me. Just being in his house, regardless of the circumstances, makes me feel safer than I have in a long time. Maybe here, fed and sheltered, my mind will clear up and I will come up with a plan.

I don't even mind the chronic cigarette smoke in the air.

God bless this wonderful man. At least I'll be safe tonight. Even if he wasn't the one looking out for me on the streets, he is still a savior.