"Wake up, we got company!"
Ethan jolted awake, now laying on his side facing the wall. He rolled over as Hosea stumbled toward the door, pulling on his wool coat. Ethan reached for his, after shucking it off sometime in the middle of the night. He had been right - all the bodies generated enough heat, along with the fire, to warm the place up.
"What's happening?" Mary-Beth asked.
"I'm sure it's nothing. Go back to sleep."
She offered him a smile and rested her head back on the pillow. Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out the platinum pocket watch he lifted from some rich socialite a few years ago. It was just after midnight, though it felt as if he'd slept for ten hours instead of just one. He guessed his recent sleeping habits prevented him from sleeping long hours or even really feeling as if he'd slept at all.
He left the warm cabin wrapped in his wool coat, following after Hosea, who had seemingly disappeared. The snow was endless, blinding even. The wind howled and whipped against the cabin, making the unsteady shack creak and groan. Ethan shivered and shook beneath his worn clothes, his teeth chattering against each other.
"Hey over here, kid!"
He spun around and saw three figures emerging and Hosea following behind them. He hurried toward the four, trudging through the thick, crunchy snow, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
"What happened? Who's that?"
The figure groaned and slowly lifted his head.
Ethan gasped. "Shit - John?"
"Yeah...that's the rumor."
"Dumbass got himself mauled by wolves. Go get Abigail and tell her the good news."
"Tell Miss Grimshaw to prepare an area for John!" Hosea called out.
"You go, I'll help them!"
He heaved a sigh. "Oh alright. I've got a bad back anyhow."
Hosea hurried back to the cabin, feeling quite out of breath from his trudge to-and-fro. He burst through the door, startling the cabin's occupants. He didn't have much time to explain, before the three were carrying John through the door.
"What is it?"
"It's John, he's hurt - hurt bad."
"Oh for Heaven's sake!" She hurried to the door.
Arthur, Bill and Ethan ushered an unconscious John into the cabin; two holding him up under his arms and Ethan holding his feet. They carried him toward the fireplace and laid him down on an empty table. Abigail rushed out of the room she and Jack were sharing, carrying a few heavy blankets.
"Oh John...you stupid fool." She whispered.
"Bill, Ethan - assist Miss Grimshaw, she's going to stitch him back up...or try -" Hosea rubbed over his chin.
"Where you going, old man?" Bill asked.
"I'll be in the next cabin speaking with Dutch. If you see Arthur, tell him to come find me."
"He's probably in the barn with the horses. He likes them better than us." Ethan reminded.
Hosea snickered. "Do as Miss Grimshaw says - both of you."
"Miss Roberts!" Miss Grimshaw bemoaned. "Are you helping me or preventing me?"
"Helping. I'm helping."
"Fine. Go get some rags, thread, a needle and some whiskey. I'll need to sterilize the wound."
"What do you need us to do?" Ethan asked.
She placed her hands on her hips. "Undress him - down to his skivvies. And standby in case he wakes up, he'll be none too happy."
Bill mumbled as he slipped John's boots off, leaving the rest for Ethan to do. But of course he would, Bill was too lazy to do anything else. Ethan began by unbuttoning his jacket and slipping it off, then his dark blue flannel. John groaned and his head drooped to the side.
"Shit...he's bleeding from his shoulder too."
Ethan pulled the red union suit off his shoulder, exposing a small flesh wound. It looked like a bullet grazed him, but his clothes weren't torn. It was another mystery, though not too far-fetched for John.
"Alright move, move, move -" Miss Grimshaw ordered, waving her hand. "Abigail, did you find what I asked for yet?"
"Yeah."
She walked over holding a bottle of whiskey, some ripped up fabric and a sewing kit. She placed the items down on a crate and sat down beside John, taking his hand into hers and squeezing.
"Where's your father?"
Ethan ran a hand through his hair. "Probably with the horses."
"Hosea -"
"With Dutch." Bill chimed in
Miss Grimshaw heaved a sigh. "Go find your father, we may need more muscle to hold him down. This is gonna hurt!"
"Alright. Anything else?"
"I'll decide after you get your father."
Ethan took that as his cue to hurry and find Arthur. He didn't take her snaps and gripes personally, that's just who Miss Grimshaw was. And he knew better not to test the woman capable of making men cry.
"Let me?" Abigail asked.
"You sure?"
"I need to learn. I have a son and if he's anything like his father, it'd be good to know what I'm doing."
"Alright, fine. I'll talk you through it."
Abigail glanced over her shoulder. "Oh Ethan?"
He turned around as he pulled on his coat.
"Don't go - stay? He likes you a little more than Arthur."
"Uh sure, okay." He shrugged his coat back off and dropped it on his bedroll.
"Alright, Miss Roberts, disinfect the wound with the whiskey, then pat it dry -" She looked up at Bill and Ethan. "Boys, be sure to hold him down."
"Need a hand?" Charles asked. "I have one to offer."
"Yes, come, come, we need all the help we can get!" She waved him over.
...
They managed to stitch up John's face and shoulder without a problem, bandage him to the best of their ability and disinfect the wound using a good brand of whiskey. It was something Ethan actually bought with some money he pickpocketed back in Blackwater. He only got one sip out of it and up until they used it for a medical emergency, it was a full bottle. Now it was nearly empty. As Abigail tended to John, Charles and Ethan stepped into the back room. It was slightly chillier than the main room, but it was welcomed after two hours of makeshift surgery. And so was finishing the rest of his expensive whiskey and a cigarette.
"So, tomorrow...can you take me hunting? Pa said you taught him how to shoot a bow and I'd like to learn myself."
Charles looked up from his bandaged hand. "Why not ask your father?"
"I hate bothering him. It was one thing when I was little, but I'm twenty now. I should know this stuff."
"He's still your father though."
"Oh I know -" Ethan slid down the wall, whiskey in hand, cigarette in the other. "We just have an odd relationship. He knows I'm his son and I know he's my father, yet...we don't really step over those boundaries."
"I see it differently than that."
Ethan tilted his head to the side. "How so?"
Charles shrugged. "Well, I see a father who wants better for his son and a son who wants to impress his old man. But neither wants to talk about it."
"You know a lot more than you let on, huh?"
"I'm observant. Always have been."
Ethan took a hit off his cigarette, then exhaled a long string of smoke. He set the bottle beside his leg, wanting to savor every sip of the expensive liquid.
"You think I should ask him then?"
"That's up to you. I'll take you, but I don't wanna step on anyone's toes."
Ethan smiled. "Nah, I don't think he'd mind. He always says he's not a good teacher."
Charles chuckled. "I can see it."
"So uh -" Ethan cleared his throat. "What do you think about Mary-Beth?"
He looked over, a hint of a smirk. "She's a good kid. Quiet, pretty."
Ethan blushed and looked down at the bottle. "Yeah..."
"From what I've seen, she likes you too."
The words registered but at the same time, they didn't. It took longer than he anticipated to react and by that point, his cover was blown and now Charles knew he liked her. He thought everyone knew he liked her - it was common knowledge or so he thought. He guessed he overestimated their ability to know everything or perhaps, they were just that good at hiding it.
"I should probably go check on John." Ethan announced.
Charles nodded. "Let me know about the morning. Either way, I plan to go."
"I will."
Ethan entered the warm room and shucked off his jacket, dropping it back on his bedroll. He walked over to John, who was still unconscious on the table, Abigail beside him pressing a cool washcloth to his face. He placed a hand on her shoulder, then moved on to Uncle, who was sitting up against the wall with Swanson.
"You Gentlemen ok?"
"Heh! We're doin' just fine, kiddo!" Uncle held up his bottle.
Ethan snickered and shook his head.
"Hey, Ethan." Tilly whispered from her spot beside a crate.
"Hey -" He crouched down. "You should be asleep."
She shrugged. "I was."
"John'll be ok. Don't worry."
"I'm not worried. But I am thinking."
Ethan tilted his head to the side. "About what?"
"Everything. We lost Jenny, Mac, Davey, Sean - I'm getting worried."
He reached over and placed his hand over hers. "You'll be fine. You and the girls are stronger than most."
She smiled. "Doesn't stop the worry. But I trust Dutch and you and Arthur - you all know what you're doing."
"See, always a silver lining." He squeezed her hand.
He stood up and walked over to Mary-Beth who was sitting up writing in her journal. She didn't see him yet, but he sure saw her. She was so pretty that he sometimes felt silly for staring, especially at night, when her hair was a mess and had sleep marks on her face. She never knew he was looking and he didn't make it obvious that he was.
"Hey."
She glanced up from the page she was on and smiled. "Hey, Ethan. You ok?"
He blushed and ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"
She closed her journal. "Yeah. I just can't help writing anymore - everything is so interesting."
"Interesting? That's a fun twist on things."
"Well you have to find the good in every situation, no matter how bad they are."
He nodded, a stupid smirk firmly planted on his face.
"Well uh -"
"Ethan!" Miss Grimshaw bellowed.
He turned, as she strode up to him.
"I need you to have a talk with Mr. Pearson. I need an accurate count on food."
He nodded. "Can't you talk to my pa? I'm not good at talking to Pearson."
"He's a man just like you - talk to him like you talk to everyone else."
"No, you don't understand. He's a grouch. He will yell at me if I bother him."
She narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.
"Ok, ok, I'll talk to him."
"If he has a problem with you, tell him to come see me."
Once Miss Grimshaw walked away, Ethan turned to Mary-Beth and offered a sheepish grin, a silent apology for their conversation being cut short. She blushed and looked down at her journal.
"Try to get some sleep."
"I'll try, Ethan."
He grabbed his coat and left with her voice saying his name in his head. It was such a lovely tune that it made his heart swell. It made him feel warm inside, so much so, he didn't realize he'd stepped out of the cabin and back into the cold. It wasn't until a gust of wind knocked his hat off, that he was rudely brought back to reality.
"Shit." He bent down to retrieve his hat.
"Shouldn't you be asleep, kid?"
He stood back up and secured his hat to his head. "I can't sleep...not after all that."
Arthur huffed. "Well where you headed?"
"Miss Grimshaw told me to go talk to Pearson about food. So I am. No sense in getting her pissed."
"Heh yeah. I'll come with you, make sure the fat bastard doesn't throw anything sharp."
"You think he would?"
Arthur shrugged. "I reckon there's a first for everything."
The two men began their journey toward the designated skinning shack, located just off the barn, where Pearson was keeping some of the rations they found. None of them knew why, but Ethan suspected that it was easier than having to explain why there was so little to the others.
"I was uh, I was talking to Charles about hunting in the morning. You don't mind if I go with him, do you?"
Arthur glanced over, then averted his gaze. He shrugged. "Nah, go ahead. If there's anybody that's a better teacher, it's Charles."
"You sure?"
"Yeah. Have some stuff to do today anyway, so go on, try your luck and see what happens. Never know."
Ethan was glad he wasn't bothered by it, though he still wondered if it did and he was just hiding it? His father was a lot of things, but straight forward with his emotions he was not. Only time would tell, he supposed.
As they entered the shack, Pearson looked up from the hot coals with a frown. Ethan cupped his gloved hands over his mouth and blew.
"We're gonna starve to death up here, Mr. Morgan."
"We're okay." Arthur assured.
Ethan nodded. "Yeah we grabbed plenty from that homestead."
Pearson walked away. "We have a few cans of food and a rabbit. For what, ten, twelve people? When I was in the Navy..."
"We do not wish to hear about what you got up to in the Navy, Mr. Pearson."
"We were stranded at sea...for fifty days."
"And you unfortunately survived."
Ethan smirked and looked away. He was always amused by his father's quick wit and sarcasm, though there was always a time and place for it - unfortunately, Arthur Morgan did not care.
Pearson huffed. "When we ran away from Blackwater, I wasn't able to get supplies in."
"When Government agents are hunting you down, sometimes shopping trips need to be cut short!" Arthur glanced over his shoulder, then back to Pearson. "We'll survive...we always have - if need be, we can always eat you. You're the fattest."
Pearson rolled his eyes. "I sent Lenny and Bill hunting and they found nothing -"
"Lenny likes books," Ethan announced. "He's book smart. So he wouldn't be good at hunting."
Arthur nodded. "Bill's a fool...so unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read ain't no wonder they found nothing."
"Enough of this -" Charles said, voice as steady as his demeanor. "I told Ethan we'd go hunting in the morning."
"We need food now, Mr. Smith or we won't have anything to eat in the morning." Pearson griped.
He huffed. "We'll go find something now. Come along Ethan."
"In this? At least wait till morning? And what about your hand, you can't go hunting."
"I can't stay here listening to you argue -" Charles waved his hand. "If there's game in those hills, I'll find it. Plus it's almost morning."
Arthur snorted. "Well almost mornin' and mornin' are two different things."
Ethan snickered and turned to Arthur. "Oh, Abigail was asking for you."
Arthur nodded as he struck a match on his boot, re-lighting a half rolled cigarette he had hidden in his pocket.
"Y'know Mr. Morgan, some days it shocks me that you have a kid."
"Yeah...me too."
"So why aren't you going with them? It's usually you and Charles."
Arthur shrugged. "The kid wants to do something on his own...without his ol' man for a shadow. You'd know if you had kids of your own. Plus we got some business to tend to," He jutted his chin. "Don't break a nail there, Pearson."
Pearson grumbled under his breath, as he began pouring two cans of beans into a large cauldron over the hot coals.
...
Ethan and Charles set out on their respective mounts, now that Arthur had a new horse to call his own. Taima seemed to respond better to Charles than she did with Arthur, which was strange to Ethan, because his father was an animal person. Though it's been his experience that animals tend to perform better with their designated human.
"We sure got out of there pretty quick." Ethan observed.
Charles shook his head. "I can't stand the arguing. It's a simple fix, yet no one wants to take charge."
"I've noticed."
"We might not see much game, but I can probably scrounge up a rabbit or two -" He reached behind him and grabbed his bow. "Here, you'll have to use this."
Ethan caught the contraption. "Seriously?"
"Use a gun...we'll scare off every animal for miles around. You like to learn anyway, not like your old man."
"I do."
"Then you'll have no problem."
A gust of wind suddenly blew through and Ethan quickly ducked his head, gripping the top of his hat. The wind shot snow and ice in his face, making it feel like he'd just shaved without soap and water. He shivered.
"How you holding up - the hand, us? Can't be easy."
"I'm okay, apart from my hand. You all aren't too bad, I've seen worse."
Ethan sniffed. "Still bad?"
"It'll be fine in a day or two. I just can't pull a bow right now."
"Sure hope I can. Pa tried to teach me once, but he ain't so good at it either. So it was really the blind leading the blind."
"You'll be fine. It's about as easy as shooting a gun."
"I doubt that," Ethan shivered again. "So...you reckon we're gonna find something to kill that ain't an O'Driscoll?"
He chuckled. "There's meat up here for sure. Pearson doesn't know what he's talking about. Now that the weather has eased up a bit, they'll be needing to feed."
They continued down the snowy path, watching as the darkened sky began to grow bright with morning. He always loved a new dawn, there was always a reason to believe that you could start anew. They were long past that, unfortunately, but there was always hope.
"Been a wild few days. The ride North from Blackwater, this storm, John getting lost, the O'Driscoll's..."
"There's a lot of weight riding on the gang; your father, Dutch and Hosea. I wish I could do more."
"No I didn't mean it like that, you do a lot as it is - just a lot to think back on."
Charles shook his head. "I still don't know what happened back on that boat."
"Neither. We heard the shooting and the screams, but Dutch won't tell anyone. He just changes the subject. He won't even tell Hosea and he tells him everything."
"Maybe one day he'll confess."
They rode over the hill and down a small valley, as the snow and wind picked up again. The sky was brighter now, indicating that it was morning. Although they'd never know it since the sun was hiding behind thick gray storm clouds.
They traveled under a canopy of trees, then followed the path around a bend, which ran alongside a rushing river. The snow and wind died down again and the sun even began to shine, as she slowly ascended high in the dreary sky.
"See, some of the ground is uncovered here -" He moved Taima off the path. "C'mon, let's try this way. Keep your eyes peeled for movement."
They trotted the horses down a steep incline, down closer to the other side of the river until they were able to cross safely. The hills provided shelter from the wind gusts and random snow squalls, but not the cold.
"The wind's died down."
"Is that good?"
"No wind at all is bad, but if it's too strong, they won't move -" He glanced over his shoulder. "Now shh, stay quiet."
Ethan obeyed and followed after Charles and Taima, as they proudly led the way. The sun was shining its beautiful rays down on the snow and ice and creating a shimmering gleam across the rushing water. It was a scene right out of an oil painting - he wished he asked Arthur for his camera before he left.
"Hey...stop here for a second, I see something."
Charles slowed Taima down and slipped off her back. Ethan slowed Gray down near a tree and jumped down, sinking to his knees in the snow. He trudged over to Charles, who was crouched down, examining something.
"Deer tracks. They've been here...recently."
"Really? How can ya tell?"
He slowly stood. "How can you not?" He turned back to Ethan. "Let's walk it from here."
"Alright."
"You'll need the bow."
He turned and trudged back to Gray, who stood under the tree, happily chomping on his bit. Ethan placed a hand on his neck, as he wiggled the bow out of its confines. He turned back to Charles.
"Be as quiet as you can -" He crouched down. "Stay low and move slowly."
Ethan did as he was told, crouching low as he followed the small tracks in the snow. They were small but consistent, traveling through tall grass and under trees. Then just as suddenly as he saw them, they disappeared.
"You see them?" Charles asked.
"I did. Not anymore."
"Focus. They're still there."
Ethan squinted his eyes and sure enough, he saw the tracks he thought he lost. The sun reflecting on the snow must have made him lose sight.
"It's pretty easy in the snow, but once you get your eye in, you'll be able to track nearly as well in grass and woods."
Ethan chuckled. "I doubt that, but I'll try."
He continued following the tracks, which led him through some tall brush, past a few low hanging branches, a few big boulders, down by the river and back up into the woods in between two trees.
"Jesus, this deer likes to zigzag."
Charles chuckled. "Yeah they do that. It's supposed to scare off any predators."
As Ethan crested the small hill, in between both trees, Charles shushed him and he glanced over his shoulder.
"Down there. See 'em?"
He squinted. "Yeah."
"Be ready with the bow and try to hit him in the neck or head - quick and clean."
Ethan inched closer to the deer, who was feeding near the river. It was a nice sized doe, big enough to feed everyone back at camp and then some.
"You can pull back as hard as you want, but you'll feel when it's too much."
He crouched down, his knee pressed to the frozen tundra. He aimed the bow at the doe, drew back the string and waited until she turned.
"Quick...before they move."
When she lifted her head, Ethan let the string go and watched the arrow soar through the air. It embedded in her head and she screeched then fell to the ground.
"Nice!" Charles commended. "Now see if you can get another one."
"Pearson's gonna be happy today." He whispered, inching closer to his kill.
As he neared, he saw his arrow sticking out of her neck. He felt kind of bad knowing she might've had a family, but so did he and they all needed to eat. He collected his arrow and continued following the tracks further, crossing in between a few snow covered pine trees, alongside the river.
He turned his head ever so slightly and saw a gaggle of doe grazing across the river. He hurried over to some tall brush and crouched down.
"Easy." Charles reminded.
He aimed the bow, drew back the string and inhaled sharply. And as he let go of the string, he exhaled and watched the arrow soar through the air and embed in the doe's neck. She went down without a fuss, unlike the last one.
"Well done."
Ethan stood up. "Heh, thanks. I didn't think I'd do it."
"I think that's all we can carry. Go pick up that one, I'll grab the other. Meet me back by the horses."
Ethan crossed the ice cold river and hopped up on the snowy terrain. It wasn't nearly as deep as it was on the other side, which surprised him. He bent down, wrapped his arms around the carcass and hoisted it up over his shoulder. It was heavy, but he carried far heavier.
However, carrying heavy things a short distance was much easier than carrying it back to his horse, who was further back. He crossed the river again, too high on his own adrenaline to feel the cold. He did feel the rush of the water though, and it nearly knocked him over.
"Gray!" He whistled.
Charles glanced over his shoulder. "You really think he'll come -"
Gray snorted as he trotted toward Ethan.
"We have a special connection."
"I see that."
...
As they rode back to camp, a light snow falling, the sun still managing high in the sky, Arthur, Dutch, Micah, Lenny and Javier were unloading their horses near the smoke shack. They all looked up when they heard the horses and seemed relieved to see both men - even more relieved to see two deer in tow. Now they wouldn't have to eat Pearson or another God awful can of offal.
"Doe...good eating." Dutch commented.
"I don't really give a shit if it's good eatin' or not, I'm eatin' it." Arthur sassed.
Javier chuckled. "That's my motto."
Ethan chuckled as he slid off of Gray, who was sweating a bit from the ride back. He felt a heavy hand clamp down on his shoulder and he glanced behind him.
"Good job, kid."
"Thanks."
"He's a quick learner." Charles complimented.
Arthur nodded, as he squeezed Ethan's shoulder. "Takes after me, I reckon."
"Thought you didn't like to learn?"
"Don't nitpick, give your kill to Pearson before he has a stroke."
"Yeah, yeah -" Ethan mumbled sarcastically. "Where'd you all go by the way?"
"Dutch heard about a train comin' through here soon. Says if we can take it, we're home free. So we went and checked out an O'Driscoll camp, stole their plans."
"Seems like I missed out on the fun." Ethan said with a smirk.
"Naw, nothing that eventful, unless you count gettin' shot at fun."
Just as Ethan went to grab the doe from Gray's back he heard some clunking coming from the barn, followed by some yelps of pain. Not too long after, Bill walks out of the barn, rubbing his hands together as if to say 'job well done'.
"You better get nice and cozy boy, you goin' be with us for a while."
"I'm not an O'Driscoll mister! You have to believe me!"
"Whatever you say O'Driscoll."
Bill walked away whilst chuckling to himself. Ethan turned to Arthur with a confused look plastered on his face.
"The hell was that?"
"That would be our newest resident." Said Hosea as he lit a cigarette.
"Managed to snag an O'Driscoll boy not far from his camp, little bastard nearly gave me the slip but I managed to grab him. Hoping that if we starve him a little, he'll spill the location of Colm's whereabouts."
"An O'Driscoll, in camp? Never thought I'd see the day."
Arthur walked back to Hosea, who was standing against the shack now savoring his last cigarette. Ethan hoisted the deer over his shoulder, knees nearly buckling from the dead weight. He jutted his chin as he passed Hosea, mumbling a sarcastic greeting. He could've used the help, but he did make a big deal about doing it all on his own.
"Should be enough meat for a few days." Charles announced.
Pearson clasped his hands together and looked to the ceiling, as if to thank the Lord. Ethan might've if he believed in such a deity, but considering all that happened to them, how could he believe?
"Good job, Gentlemen."
Ethan shrugged. "Thank Charles, not me. I just followed his lead."
"You did all the work." Charles reminded.
"You showed me what to do."
"Enough with the love fest -" Arthur teased. "Ya both did a good thing, own it."
Hosea walked over and patted Ethan on his back.
"Now what do we do?" Ethan questioned.
"We wait for the thaw. Those wagons ain't nowhere near ready to move."
"Then what? We have a pretty big price on our heads." Charles pointed out.
Arthur nodded. "Country is big enough - we'll get lost somewhere and no one will ever know. I trust Dutch and Hosea when they say they have a plan."
Hosea nodded. "We've been talking a great deal. A plan is coming."
"Yes, Gentlemen," Dutch bellowed from the door. "A plan is coming. I just need a little cooperation and patience."
—
May 4, 1899
Well today was interesting...I went hunting with Charles and tried my luck with his bow - did pretty good too. I snagged two deer and now Pearson is singing a different tune. We all are, actually. Uncle Dutch and Hosea started telling stories again, which they hardly ever do anymore.
It was nice to hear, even if I've already heard most of them. While we were gone, Pa, Dutch, Micah, Bill, Javier and Lenny went on a scouting trip. Apparently there's this train that's supposed to be carrying a very wealthy man aboard, I believe his name is Cornwall? Anyway, he's coming through and Dutch had the idea to hit the train and this Cornwall guy up for everything he has, then take what we have and run. There's still more to plan so that it's not another Blackwater.
Did I mention that pa brought an O'Driscoll back to camp? Is that even a good idea? Considering Dutch and Colm O'Driscoll's history together I can only imagine where this situation is going to go. Apparently the boy's name is Kieran, poor sod. Don't even want to think about what Bill will do when he gets his hands on him.
On a brighter note, I feel like our luck is changing. It may be presumptuous for me to say so soon, when we're still up in a frozen hell, starving to death, but I feel like something good may come from all this. We just have to see it through.
I spoke with Mary-Beth last night and we had a moment...that was before Miss Grimshaw rudely interrupted us. And all she wanted was for me to speak with Pearson about the food shortage - yeah as if I can speak to that man. He's a jackass sometimes...okay, most of the time. Under the circumstances, I can let it pass.
Anyways, I'm being told I have to sleep, so I guess I should try. I'm 20 years old and being scolded like I'm 5 - amazing. But I guess I should try and go to sleep, maybe I'll have pleasant dreams for once.
E.M
