It Could Be Worse
Episode 12: How To Make Money When You're On The Run…
By Sulia Serafine
[1-27-01. A Protector of the Small fanfic set in an alternate universe; all credit goes to Tamora Pierce. I'm broke, so you can't sue me.
Oh, one more thing: BAD LANGUAGE (I. E. cursing, swearing…). You have been warned!
E-mail me at silverwLng@aol.com, okay? Thank you and have a nice day.
P.S. Just as I said in the last episode: If more people review, I post another episode. So, seeing that I'm neglecting both school and practice, please enjoy the following episode!]
For the first few days in Tyra, they lived in an inn near the docks. The rooms were cramped and dirty, but they were cheap. Keladry often had to go under the sink of the bathroom and do her own plumbing. The roof leaked, the bed sheets had holes. The only thing assuring them of its safety was that the water was clean and there were no signs of rats or other pests. The innkeeper was a decrepit and grouchy old man with two snobby sons who came down every now and then and collect money from those guests unfortunate to be staying there.
The fourth morning, Lalasa was kneeling on the bathroom counter, scrubbing the mirror furiously with a cloth and sponge. It was getting less cloudy as she progressed and the Carthakian was determined to see her reflection. For the last few days, she'd resorted to looking at the side of a shiny metal toaster at the kitchen appliance store.
"Stupid mirror," she scowled. "Stupid inn. How long do we have to stay here, Kel?"
Keladry got up from the plain wooden floor where she had been doing push-ups and crunches all morning. A sweat spot had formed in the middle of her back. They were in lack of clothing at the moment, so Keladry was stuck wearing the one-piece field uniform. And instead of Hyperion bands on her legs, she wore a blue pair of cotton shorts borrowed from Lalasa. She brushed herself off. "We won't be here for much longer. Our money is running out. We'll have enough for the next week and that's it."
"What do you mean, the next week? In here with food, electricity, and running water?" She got down from the counter and rubbed her knees.
The female officer shook her head. "Just the food. Not this room with the running water."
"What happened to the money Fal got from selling the car?" Lalasa pouted.
"There are six of us," she replied. "And with clothing replacements, food demands, and other necessary equipment to protect ourselves from anyone coming after us--"
"What, the DJPF?" Lalasa rolled her eyes. She growled. "We're in the Yamanis! Who will find us here?"
"Bounty hunters," Keladry shrugged. "I met one once. He was collecting his reward from the main offices. Trust me, we don't want to mess with bounty hunters. It's the same deal with assassins and professional agents." She frowned. "Once, I thought I was going to be better skilled than they. After all, she was. But I guess she was the exception."
Lalasa nodded slowly. The other girl was talking about her former role- model again, Alanna Olau Trebond. It nearly broke her heart to see such a strong person like Keladry get punched-- punched by the irony of their situation: the good as the bad… the bad as the good… and a little bit of each mixed in between.
"You know, I think I'll just get some breakfast with Roald down the street. You need to concentrate on your exercises," she smiled warmly and put down the sponge and cloth. Then she untied her hair so it cascaded down her backside and stopped midway down her spine. "Don't work too hard, Kel."
"I won't. I'm almost done. I'm practically done," Kel called to her as Lalasa walked out the door of their room. She went back to the middle of the floor and lay on her back. She crossed her arms over her chest and bent her knees. Then she curled up halfway, and went back down. She continued doing crunches for the next ten minutes while staring up at the plaster ceiling.
For a long while, she wondered about how things were at Headquarters. Neal must be healthy again. She bet he already heard on the news about the three rebelling DJPF officers kidnapping the Vice President's son. Keladry didn't even dare guess what mood Commissioner Wyldon was in. He was probably tearing out what little hair he had left. A small chuckle escaped her lips as she wound down to her last set of ten.
Her abdomen was on fire. It was the good kind of fire though. She could feel it burn her muscles, warning her that she would be sore and that increased muscles would gradually follow.
"Three…" she gritted her teeth. "Two… One."
She dropped back onto the floor, folding her hands behind her head. Her bare elbows pointed above her, back to the ceiling she'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. It was like Keladry had had enough time to stay in the room and remember each cluster of plaster as it was sloppily made a decade ago.
"I've got to get out of here," she muttered. "I'm actually starting to get fascinated by the ceiling."
She rolled over onto her stomach. Then she pushed herself up to stand. Keladry padded over on bare feet to the bathroom, intent on taking a shower to wash away the feeling you got from your sweaty skin and your grungy hair. She reached past the small shower door and turned the water on. Keladry twisted the knob towards hot and stuck her hand under the water. It would take about two to three minutes to get warm.
She went back out the bathroom and grabbed the only set of clean clothing she had left. Lalasa was supposed to do the laundry, but the mirror had stolen her attention. It was Keladry's civilian clothing, the jeans and the shirt with the vest that were clean. And luckily, it was summer and Keladry didn't have to worry about buying extra clothing for winter just yet.
"Supposing we get this all resolved before winter," she groaned and stepped back into the bathroom.
~~
"It's pretty hot out today, don't you think?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Wish I could go for a swim at the beach if Joren weren't so uptight about keeping us in the same area," Lalasa said with another one of her pouts. She blew her hair out of her eyes and glanced over at her companion.
Roald sat nervously, moving his white plastic straw around in his tall blue cup. He stabbed at the rapidly melting ice cubes that bobbed around in his drink. Since they were in a different country and news of Mithros didn't reach the Yamanis (for what was one country's dilemma was no concern to another); he wasn't forced to wear any disguise. Still, he felt like someone might pounce at him at any moment.
"Roald!"
"Ah!" The mild-mannered politician's son bolted upright in his seat when a hand had clamped down on his shoulder and scared him half to death. His eyes widened to the size of frying pans as he turned around and faced Cleon. "Please don't do that!"
"Yes, Kennan," Faleron smirked. He tipped his hat to Lalasa in his usual gentlemanly fashion and addressed his comrade again. "You almost gave the chap a heart attack, and then where would the rest of us be?"
"Aww, that was nothing," the redhead shrugged. He sat down in the empty chair under the shady yellow umbrella of their outdoor table. "So, guys, what's up?"
Lalasa sighed. "Nothing. Not one darn thing."
"That sounds pretty boring," he laughed. "Faleron and I have been walking around the marketplace all day trying to find jobs! After all, our money is running out…"
"Money that I haggled to get," the thief reminded. "I sold the car for at least a tenth over its usual cost."
"Yeah, yeah. It doesn't matter now. What matters now is a source of income." He drummed his fingers on the table, something he normally didn't do. Something habitual he did start to do was whistle. After half a minute of whistling like a bird, he pounded his fist on the metal grid table. "I got it!"
"What?" Roald asked, shocked again by Cleon's sudden action. "Do you have an idea for a job?"
"What if we hire ourselves out as bodyguards? I'm an ex DJPF officer," he pointed to himself. "And hey, I'm a sharpshooter, too! There are tons of officials that go in and out of Tyra everyday because of their traditional ways of consulting Council members face to face."
"Oh, please," Lalasa said. "Someone's bound to notice us. Foreign news reaches Councilmen and officials first, if they reach anyone at all. It would be much easier to get simple jobs. I could be a waitress," she shrugged reluctantly. "I mean, I wouldn't like it, but if it means no starvation, then I'm all for it."
"They need guys at the dock all the time," Roald said. "I could handle shipping jobs at the docks."
"No. People come in and out through Tyra's docks all the time. I'm surprised we sneaked through customs," Cleon said while folding his arms. "I think you should just stick with me and Fal. Right, F--" He turned around. No one was there. He blinked. "Faleron?"
Lalasa and Cleon exchanged worried looks.
"Not again…"
"Where did he go?"
Cleon stood up and stretched. "He does this whenever we start to ignore him."
"Then we really need to start learning how to pay attention to him," she sighed and also stood. Roald looked back and forth between them. He was completely confused.
"What's going on? What about Faleron?"
She scratched her head. "It's routine by now. Fal disappears and we find him in the marketplace having a shopping, er, stealing spree. You see?"
"Oh… I see," Roald nodded. "Do you want me to help?"
Cleon gave him a thumbs-up. "Sure, man! In fact… why don't you come with me and Lalasa goes to find her waitress job."
She jabbed him in the shoulder. "Well, thanks a lot, Cleon. I think I'll get myself a job and earn us some money while the three of you boys play hide and seek. Free-loaders."
"Aww, 'Lasa! That stings," Cleon over exaggerated. He flashed her a grin. "Come on, Roald. Let's go."
"Right. Good bye, Lalasa. Good luck with your job hunt." He smiled gently toward her. His calm features set in the extremely serious face charmed her like no other. It was hard keeping him distanced from her emotionally. He had the natural capacity to attract people to him with his quiet strength. At this rate, Lalasa might even promote him from being a stranger.
"I've got to get a grip," she murmured and walked in the opposite direction as they. Unbeknownst to her, Roald glanced back at her from over his shoulder, still smiling.
~~
Keladry frowned. She pulled her hand back from out of the shower. The water was still cold. Someone must be taking a shower in the guys' room. Cleon often scheduled his showers at the same time to annoy her. And she'd have to go into his room and bang on the bathroom door to tell him to hurry up.
She slipped her feet into some flat bottom shoes and left her room. Then she went to the next door down and entered the guy's room. There were three beds-- one double and two singles. This was set up because Joren wanted his own bed, Cleon had to have his own bed because he kicked the covers in his sleep, and they didn't want to waste any more money on singles so Roald and Faleron had to split the last one. She noticed how the double was neatly folded and the pillows arranged, as well as Joren's, and then Cleon's was still a mess.
"Typical," she chuckled inwardly and walked to the bathroom door. She knocked on it softly, since she could no longer hear running water of the shower. "Hey, Cleon! Please tell me you're done. I'd like some hot water."
She got no response. Of course, just to annoy her some more… Keladry decided to trudge back to her room when the bathroom door opened. Joren stepped out, a white towel wrapped around his narrow hips. His hair and body were still glistening with water from the shower. It turned out that he was pretty lean. His muscles were taut, as if just waiting for the opportunity to be used in action. She gulped and turned her back to him.
"Uh, sorry. I thought you were Kennan."
He raised one eyebrow suspiciously. "Right. Sure. Could you hand me my pants?"
If there were an option to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, Keladry would have taken it. She picked up the black jeans and went to Joren, her eyes mostly downcast. After all, it wasn't every day that she had to give a handsome young man his pants. He took the pants from her, went back in the bathroom, and closed the door in her face. But as he had turned around, she had looked up and noticed some burn scars on his back.
"What happened to him?" she asked silently. Then Keladry realized she should get out and then she privately scolded herself for barging into the room. As she was walking away, the door opened again.
"And lock the door on your way out," Joren said as he poked his head out from the bathroom. She nodded and the door closed again.
She went back to her room, continually scolding herself and blushing furiously. For the rest of her trip, she would just take showers whether or not they were hot. She wouldn't enjoy it, but Keladry would never go into their room again.
~~
Faleron tugged down on the front brim on his bowler hat, tilting it to the right side. He winked at a girl across the table sitting in another man's lap. With a smooth, confident voice, he said, "I raise you ten."
The other men at the table stared at him in disbelief.
"The little pip squeak thinks he can beat you, Claude."
The man seated directly across from Faleron with the brunette in his lap laughed throatily. "Don't discourage him. Let's try his luck. I'll meet your ten and raise you another ten."
There was a chorus of "oohs" all around. Faleron glanced out the window and into the marketplace. Surprisingly, Cleon and Roald were walking by. They seemed to be looking for someone.
"Oh, that's right," he thought. "They're looking for me." He looked down at the straight in his hands. Maybe his opponent had better. He probably did, but Faleron could bluff his way to victory. He stared the pock-faced man straight in the eye and said, "Fine. I see your ten and raise you five."
The man stared at him in disbelief. They had been bidding for quite a while now and this was making him nervous. No one in their right mind would be bidding so much unless they had something like a straight flush, or maybe even a royal flush. The brunette wrapping her arms around her neck frowned.
"I fold," he said reluctantly.
"I thank you kindly," Faleron said and laid down his cards. The man gaped at him.
"You… you little…" He turned over his cards. The man had had a full house.
Faleron scooped the money into the crook of his arm, took off his hat, dumped it in there, and bowed to the men. "It's been a pleasure playing cards with you fellows… Perhaps we can get together again and try your luck?"
"Get this punk!" the other man roared, and everyone leapt into action. Faleron, the odds against him, ran out the door straight into two pedestrians. He fell to the ground, barely keeping his money from spilling out onto the street. Cleon and Roald grabbed him by the arms and hauled him up while three burly men in dock clothes stomped out.
"There you are," Roald said. "At least he wasn't stealing anything, right Cleon?"
Cleon stared at the three angry men whom Faleron had been playing cards with. "Uh, actually, I'd rather he had…"
"I'm gonna snap you like a twig!" the man in the middle yelled and came at them.
So, Faleron, thinking existentially within the matter of a second as he had the ability to, weighed his choices and which choices were best for his individual existence-- as well as his two friends. He could face the three furious men when he did not possess any weapons. If he knew Cleon, the guy probably had one gun tucked into his waistband. Joren had been strict about Cleon not using it in public lest anyone see it and turn them in. Roald had no weapon, and Faleron had no idea whether he could fight or not.
Not that he had the guts to fight three taller, beefier men with "I'm going to kill you" etched into their expressions.
"Run," he squeaked.
And they took off down the road.
~~
Lalasa put on her new uniform and picked up the apron. So, she was a waitress. She had to serve others in a homey little restaurant three blocks away from their ragged inn. She tied her hair up in a bun. "Sir? What's my salary?"
"We can discuss that later after the shift is over. Go out and take orders," the cook called.
"Okay," she said. She paused. "Do you think my friends could get jobs here? We're all in need of jobs…"
The cook wiped his greasy hands on a towel. He was middle aged with a big shaven chin and a hawk-like nose. He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I need another cook and couple of busboys."
She smiled. "Cool."
By the end of the day, Lalasa called Keladry and Joren down to the restaurant since the other three young men still hadn't made it home. It was about 7:15 PM and the restaurant was full of its usual customers. Keladry walked around a table, tying her apron a little tighter so it didn't get in the way. She observed her other friend take orders politely from a graying woman in the back.
"May I take your order?" Keladry said to herself. She shook her head and smiled. Then she gathered up the used dishes into her plastic bin and carried them to the back.
Being a busboy, er, girl wasn't too exciting. But she got paid and that was all. Joren had actually taken the position as short order cook when it was revealed that she burnt things and he didn't. Where in the world had he learned to cook? Keladry didn't expect for a biker/ operative with a nasty disposition to cook so well.
Well, better than she did.
"Mindelan, get your butt back here and wash the damn dishes," Joren called. She growled and hurried her pace. She set the bin down and piled the dishes into one sink where a sizable amount of dirty dishes had accumulated. The blonde glanced at her while flipping meat patties expertly on the indoor grill.
And Keladry couldn't help but glance at him. Joren was wearing a short sleeved black shirt-- when didn't he wear black? -- and the mandatory apron that tied around his neck and around his waist. She glimpsed part of a burn scar on his right arm, just under the sleeve.
"What happened to him?" she wondered again for the second time that day.
"Take a picture. It lasts longer."
She reddened and turned away. "Sorry."
He glared at her some more until Lalasa came.
"Order's up," he said and handed her a plate of cheeseburgers and fries.
The night continued on. Keladry alternated between picking up dirty dishes and washing them. Joren cooked. Lalasa took orders and served them. Somewhere around ten o'clock, Roald, Cleon, and Faleron stumbled in, all extremely exhausted and looking a little worse than usual. Lalasa noticed their bruises and frowned.
"And what happened to you three?"
Roald and Cleon glared at the resident thief. He shrugged and showed her his hat. "At least I made enough money so I don't have to get a job."
"I still don't think it was worth sprinting down 3rd Street and getting beaten up," Cleon said nasally while pinching his nose and tilting his head back. "Can we sit down somewhere?"
"Yeah, sit down here," Lalasa showed them to a booth. "I'll get some ice."
"No freeloaders, Isran!" her boss yelled.
She winced. "Yes, sir. They'll pay for ice."
Faleron picked up a coin from his overturned hat and tossed it to her. "Keep the change."
After the restaurant closed up, they started home. Lalasa snapped her fingers. "Aww, man! I forgot. Can someone go grocery shopping?"
"Not us," the three beaten up young men replied simultaneously.
"I guess not," she said. "Hey, Keladry, you and Stone go to that all-night supermarket. Buy this," she handed Keladry a list. "And make sure you get the cheap stuff. We're not eating gourmet anymore… unfortunately…" She made a face. "Oh well."
Joren grabbed Faleron's hat away from him and pocketed a few Nobles. "We'll be back in an hour. Lights out by the time I get back, you hear me?"
"Yes, mother," Cleon muttered.
"You want to say something Kennan?" Joren said threateningly.
"No," he sighed.
Roald grimaced as he tried to examine the bruises on his arm. "Can you get some bandages for us?"
"Sure," Keladry nodded.
~~
Keladry yawned. She was pushing a cart with food in it while Joren held the list in his hand, trudging irritably in front of her. The fluorescent lights of the all-night supermarket bothered her eyes for some reason. She listened to the squeak of the cart's wheels on the linoleum of the floor and groaned silently.
"Have we gotten everything?" she asked.
"No. What the hell does that friggin' Carthakian want cornstarch for?"
She shrugged. "Don't ask me."
Once again, through boredom, she began observing her partner. His pale blonde hair still messily fell around his head. By the bone structure of his face and his rarely flushed cheeks, she guessed he might have been mistaken for a girl in his childhood. "Anyone who probably did that most likely got the crap beaten out of them," she thought. "Did I just say crap?" Keladry shook her head. "Who cares about slang anymore? I don't care…"
"Mindelan. Mindelan!"
She blinked. "What?"
"We're going to the registers now," he said and walked ahead of her. She pushed the cart dejectedly behind him.
An old lady in a purple flowery dress walked to another check out line next to her. She smiled kindly at her and whispered to her husband, a man with a brown cap and unique penny loafers. "Look at that couple, honey. Just like us when we were young!"
"Couple?" she croaked. Her and Joren--a couple? Keladry shuddered. The old couple must be senile, she told herself comfortingly. There was no way in the whole entire universe that Joren and her would ever get together. He was rude, inconsiderate, and only cared for himself and his bike.
"And he's handsome… a good fighter… bought me a bike…" she whispered. He also had her ambition. He was the one whose record she broke at the academy. And the one who always seemed in control. Keladry shook her head. If she didn't know any better, she would say she was developing something for the stoic operative from Tusaine. And that was ridiculous. If Keladry had to fall in love-- as if it weren't her choice-- it'd probably end up being with her best friend, Neal, or maybe Owen.
Not Mr. Attitude.
~~
Author: See? Pants? Keladry barging in on Joren by mistake? Now, that's a good dose of UST without ruining my plans for future episodes. (Trust me, there will be more UST, it's just all biding its time…)
Closing Credits:
Special thanks to those who helped me with descriptions:
( Note: These people are VERY cool. Do not mess with them.)
Kestrel
Erin (Hyper Girl to the Rescue)
Sullychkk (Whose name is Caitie…)
And also to the people who volunteered to help with my web page:
FireLily
Jaelawyn Noble