Chapter 7:
The wind picked up and swirled around Vash as he looked down at the grave before him. Dropped his bag to the floor, along with two wooden planks and them joined it. Sitting down on the dusty ground before the gravestone. He mused that you couldn't actually it a grave stone, it was in actuality a wooden cross around his shoulder height. The wood was smooth as a well polished bar top from receiving a constant blasting by the desert sands. The name on the grave was barley legible and had faded down to almost nothing.
"Hi Wolfwood." Vash spoke quietly with a brief smile.
"I'd be kind of stupid to ask how your doing, but I did bring supplies to do the ol' place up a bit." He patted the planks at this side.
"And I got some news for you too. I might be a daddy as well. Turns out Meryl had a kid not long after she left. Eliana her name is, she's friends with Sophie." Vash reached over to his bag and pulled out a canteen, after talking a swig he replaced the canteen and resumed talking.
"They're doing okay, Soph an' Millie, Both gettin' along fine. I looked in on them a couple of weeks ago. The orphanage is still up an' running got a good bunch of kids there. I pay what I can. And what I can squeeze out of Knives." He smiled at that, as he imagined Wolfwood's reaction to him squeezing money out of his brother for a human orphanage.
"Anyway, I got you a plaque for your grave. I thought I'd save Millie and myself a few cuts caving your name every time we replace the wood, I hope Millie's not too annoyed. She gets a bit irked if I pay for too much, she doesn't want to rely on money from me. Well that's what she tells me anyway." Vash shrived a little as he cast his eyes over the mass of graves that surrounded Wolfwood's on all sides. They weren't placed in any order, over a hundred wooden cross like this one sat, marking the dead that were buried in the canyon. There weren't many conventional graveyards on Gunsmoke, as people were killed nearly every day, graveyards tended to fill up rather fast. This led to many of these abstract graveyards.
Vash talked for around a while longer, he recounted the events of the past few days, including what happened to Meryl, about meeting Eliana and her introduction to Knives, though he kept anything involving Knives rather brief. As the sun began to set he got up and began collecting rocks roughly about the size of his fist. When he had collected a small pile. Vash returned to where he had left his things. He dug a small pit with his hands and placed the rocks around the pit to form a circle. He then took a pile of kindling and some broken fragments of wood from his bag. Placing the kindling in the small pit he took a match and struck it. Setting the kindling ablaze he carefully placed the large pieces of wood around the wood, to cover it and make a campfire. After it had taken, he lay back resting his head on the bag, one leg bent the other resting on top of it.
He sat in silence for a while watching the last rays of the sun disappear over the edges of the canyon. He was grateful for the light of the fire.
"Man this place'd be damn creepy in pitch black. But there's nowhere close by to stay." He stayed like that for a while before a fitful sleep claimed him. Unfortunately for him, he wouldn't get a peaceful awakening either.
Eliana sat alone in the garden of Vash and Knives' house. Even after a week of getting used to it she still found this garden a miracle. It was as large as a small Thomas paddock. Thick green grass that looked like it was rarely cut. The garden had a wooden fence surrounding it. It was around her chest height, and with a little bit of effort she could hoist herself onto of it. Parallel to the fence, running along its entire length, were two rows of trees one row was made of apple trees the other was a tree she couldn't name. It seemed to have no fruit and just be a tree. In the centre of the garden were four rows of crops, corn, potatoes, wheat and sugar cane. Scattered around the garden were a few pretty flower beds, mostly she had been told that Knives had planted and grown all of the beds bar a tiny bed of flowers almost hidden from view by the tree's. They were the only ones grown by Vash. He had told her he had helped raise the trees and the crops. In addition to the plant life there was a small outbuilding used for storing the tools Knives and Vash used to tend this garden.
She had lost count of time days ago, having left her watch behind. She had no real means to tell time, bar the few clocks scattered around the house. But she didn't see them often enough to get a good bearing. Hours and minutes seemed to slip away till the days were only broken down into day and night time. Frustration was begging to mix with boredom for her, which often proved to be a near fatal for those in close proximity to her. She hadn't been able to draw or paint, Vash had been gone for almost two days and trying to get convocation out of Knives was like trying to draw blood from a stone with a toothpick. As she finished counting the tree's in the garden for the seventh time she let out an audible growl of.
"Fifty two fuckin' trees." She wanted to break something, anything. She slammed her clenched hand into the wide fence beam she was sitting on. And then let out a mild cry of pain. Before doing it again. This time it hurt more.
"Owie." She moaned. Cradling the hand for a moment before raising it to do it again.
"Stop that you'll break your hand." Came the stern voice of Knives. She looked up and saw him leaning against a tree watching her, His hair and eyes looking off color in the waning light, the blonde parts of his hair looked almost orange and the cold eyes looking a sea green instead of blue. He wore a crimson shirt and black, possibly blue jeans, she couldn't tell the exact color in this light.
"Why do you care?" She blurted out.
"I don't." He shrugged "But if you break your hand, Vash will blame me and that means he'll moan at me. And if there's one thing I can't stand its Vash when he moans." In a futile act of defiance she did it once more. Though she tried as hard as she could to hide the pain it hurt. A lot. Knives smiled a little.
"What! What's so funny?"
"Nothing."
"Well then why are you grinning like an idiot?"
"Because doing that again just to spite me proved nothing."
"Yeah well, well screw you!" He raised an eyebrow at her insult.
"I have been insulted with far worse in my time girl."
"Girl. I'm eighteen, Bub, that means I'm an adult."
"In my eyes, since your acting like a three year old. It doesn't."
"God! You are so much like my mother." She hopped down from the fence and fixed him with an angry glare. Knives allowed his smile to turn into a smirk, if this was the famous Stryfe death glare Vash had warned him about he had seriously exaggerated.
"You know, there are far more productive things to do than trying to break your hand."
"Like what?"
"Begin your training." He stated flatly.
"But Vash is supposed to teach me."
"Vash isn't here, and I assure you, I am just as good as him." He added as an after thought. "If not better at certain things."
"Yeah?"
"Yes." She paused for a moment and considered how much her hand really did ache. And weather training with Knives would be preferable to sitting around doing nothing, going stark raving mad. She quickly chose the former option.
"When do we start?" Eliana asked mildly trepidations.
Vash was rudely awoken by a loud metallic thud. With a cry he scrambled to his feet and on pure instinct dew his gun and thrust its barrel in the rough direction of the noise. Once he opened his eyes fully and they had cleared he saw the smiling face of a raven haired young woman. Looking at him down the barrel of his long colt. Smiling like he was holding a fluffy bunny instead of a gun that could easily take her head from her shoulders.
"Good Morning Mr. Vash." She greeted him cheerily.
"Oww, not so loud." He groaned. Rubbing his head and replacing the six shooter in its holster at his hip. He slunk down to the ground and letting out a deep breath.
"Sorry Mr. Vash. I didn't mean to wake you up like that." The girl, still smiling, sat down and adjusted her white bandanna, worn more to keep the sun off her raven hair than for fusion. She had been wearing a sand colored dirty ankle length jacket, which was now at her feet. Underneath that she was wearing a black shirt, half heartedly tucked into a knee length black skirt. A large metal box sat a few feet behind her. It was roughly a meter long and a half a meter wide. An ornate cross, with a rose thorn pattern weaving intricately around it was welded to the lid. Vash had quickly figured out the identity of the girl from the raven black hair and cheery blue-grey eyes.
"Sophie?" He asked." What are you doing all the way out here?"
"Visiting Dad's grave silly." Replied the daughter of Mille Thompson.
"Oh yeah." He rubbed the back of his head feeling a little embarrassed.
"Well it's sure nice to see you again, I haven't spoken to you in what three years? Huh Mr. Vash."
"Yeah something like that." He looked at the remnants of the fire he had started last night and gave a small groan. It had died almost to the point of extinction. He had been hoping for a hot breakfast. Shifting sideways so he could get at his bag better he opened it and after rooting around for a few seconds found a set of mess tins, the smaller of the two fitted snugly inside the smaller. Taking them out he shook them to check the contents was still inside. The tins rattled indicating so. He pulled the top, smaller, tin off and exposed the contents. A cut down knife and fork, trimmed to fit in the tin, a sandwich wrapped in brown paper. Two Calvary ration bars and piece of paper. Written on it bold black letters was.
'Vash. IOU one doughnut.' The signature at the bottom read 'Vash the Stampede'. His hopes mildly dashed he peeled back the wrapping on the ration bar and took a bite. Over the years he had gotten used to foul tasting ration bars, which usually claimed to taste of some kind of fruit. However they were good for you, and contained a lot of things the body needed to work efficiently. Or so it claimed anyway.
"Mr. Vash?" He looked up from the ration bar and at her.
"Hmm?" He murmured his moth still full.
"Well, I was wondering, how well did you know my Dad? Cuz mom told me that you an' him traveled together for a while."
"We were, well I guess best friends is good way to describe it."
"Really? Wow. Could you erm err maybe tell me a bit about him?"
"Sure I guess." Vash scratched his head thinking for a moment. "Did your mom ever tell you how we met him?" She shook her head.
"Well it was about a week before fifth moon. Me, Your mom and Meryl were on a bus heading to Jenora rock. When off in the distance I spotted this glimmer. And well if you ask Meryl and Millie they'll say they only went to investigate cuz I made so much noise. But in reality it was my persuasive powers that convinced them. Anyway the bus driver went over to the spot. And we found your dad almost buried in the sand, carrying his Cross."
"Really? Could you tell me anymore?"
"Yeah sure, I've got a ton of stories, but I'll finish this one first." She smiled and nodded allowing Vash to continue his story.
"Well anyway after we gave him some water. He thanked Millie and Meryl for saving him. But they told him it was me. After almost blowing my cover. As the bounty on me hadn't been long lifted then. And some people didn't still know 'bout that." She listened intently on his every word.
"Well we got talkin' and he explained he was a traveling priest and bummed a lift from the bus driver in giving a lift, after showing him his portable-confessional." That got a quizzical look for Sophie. "When we stopped for a break, we were talking and these kids and their mom walked by. And the kids were begging their mom for food. But she didn't have a scrap on her. So your dad gets up right and he takes these three biscuits out of his pocket. And he gives on to each kid and keeps one himself. It was the nicest thing I'd seen anyone do in a while. Especially as we were all hungry and thirsty on that bus ride. It made me smile Y'know. Then he said something about me I'll never forget as long as I live."
"What?" She queried.
"You always smile all cheerfully. But its so empty that it hurts to look at you. I see you hurting' and just grinning to bear it. Its nice to see you can actually smile."
"Well anyway. We got back on the bus, an' it got to nightfall and we were still going, and while Meryl was in the bathroom. He took her seat next to your mom, and ended up sleeping on her. She was very taken with him from the off." Vash laughed a little. "Mind you, I think he was too." Sophie smiled at him.
"Can I hear another one?"
"Sure, I'm not sure what one to tell you next though." He paused for a second.
"Say did your mom ever tell you about the time we ran into a killer insurance man?" She giggled at his use of the phrase 'killer insurance man'
"No, but it sounds like a good one."
"Well it began when me and Wolfwood were staying in the town of Meldreck."
Eliana stared blankly around the basement of the brothers' house. Two windows let light in, as well as three strip light bulbs hanging from the ceiling. The room itself was built from thick grey cinder blocks to keep the sand of the desert out. She was amazed at the sheer volume of items that occupied the small room. There was a work bench which was littered with metal and oddly shaped objects she had never seen before, a low exercise bench, two metal rings hanging from the ceiling, as well as metal bar. Also hanging from the ceiling was a pulley wheel with a rope attached to a small wooden crate, containing lots of scrap metal, dangling from it. In the far corner was a knee high wine rack, half filled with bottles of both red and white wines. There was also a stack of weights and dumbbell bars by the stairs, in addition to these at the far end of the room was a row of five cardboard targets, three shaped like people and two round ones. They were mostly filled with bullet holes.
"So this is where you two train?" She asked Knives. He nodded in response.
"So can we get started?" Knives nodded.
"We'll start with press ups, I assume you know how to do them."
"Press ups?"
"Yes."
"Why do I need to do press ups?"
"Because to be able to fire a gun you need to be able to withstand the recoil. From what Vash told me, you can barely handle the kick from a derringer. A Long Colt would probably dislocate your arm."
"So I need to get stronger?"
"Not just stronger, faster. Learning to fight is not just about shooting, you need to be able to move efficiently in conjunction with that."
"I see." Came the disheartened reply.
"This is what you wanted."
"Yeah I know, I just didn't think it would take so much work."
"What did you expect? To spend two weeks practicing and be as good as us?"
"Not really." She sounded embarrassed.
"To learn to how to fight like Vash does will take a lot of hard work. He spent years becoming as good as he is. If you ever want to be a fraction of what we are I expect you to listen to and follow instructions."
"What do you think I am your lackey?" He raised an eyebrow and turned around, as he walked up the stairs, looking back over his shoulder he said.
"When you're serious about doing this then you can come find me." He was almost to the top when he heard.
"Knives, Wait!" He allowed himself a smile then turned around and walked down the steps.
"Yes?"
"I'll do what you want. I... I have to. I've got no other choice."
"Let's begin."
Vash wiped the sweat from his brow with his right hand. Then resumed the task at hand, grasping the wooden cross' arms with both hands he dug his feet into the sand and pushed downwards, driving the newly made wooden cross into the sand, in order to keep it upright. With a grunt he pushed down as hard as he could and after a few seconds began to feel the wooden object sink into the sand. When it stopped sinking, he dug in, grunted and pushed down again. This time it sank a little further to roughly the same level as the old one had been at. Stepping back Vash cast an eye over his work and wiped his brow again.
"There, all done."
"It looks good doesn't it Mr. Vash." Sophie remarked. Vash rolled his eyes.
"Would you quit it with the Mister already."
"Sorry, Mr... I mean Sorry Vash."
"Thanks, I always feel old if anyone calls me Mister." Older than she knows.
"Vash? do you have anymore stories. Cuz the last one told me. I already knew." He paused a moment and looked at her. He could see him in her. Definitely. As he stared she noticed he was looking at her.
"What is it?"
"How do you think of your father?"
"As a good, kind, generous man, who traveled the land doing the holy fathers work and helping people like you. He almost never resorted to violence." He his stomach felt like it was doing flips as he saw the idolization in those eyes, something he'd seen in her mother's eyes to. He gulped down a deep breath.
"Sophie. What I'm about to tell you might be hard to hear." He thought back to convocation between him and Wolfwood almost Twenty years ago now.
Vash and Wolfwood sat outside a bar in a small backwater town. Vash nursing his upper arm slightly from a recent bullet wound. While Wolfwood sat staring over his drink and Vash's shoulder at the crowd behind them. His eyes with a distant look in them. Vash stretched the arm a little and felt the stitches in it pull so he quickly gave the effort up not wanting to tear the fresh stitches out. Using his left arm he picked up the drink in front of him and took a sip. The cool liquid ran down his throat giving it and him much needed refreshment. It crossed his mind that he'd forgotten when he last had something to drink. Taking a longer sip he smiled.
"Man that's good stuff. Sure hits the spot well." This got no reaction from Wolfwood. He looked over at him and saw the vacant look.
"Hey Wolfwood?" Nothing.
"Yo Wolfwood?"
"Hello Wolfwood anyone ho-ome?" He chimed. At this Wolfwood looked up.
"Whad' ya say, Spikey?"
"Your awfully quiet, unusually quiet somethin' up?"
"Not really." Vash cocked an eyebrow as if to say 'you aren't fooling no one.'
"Alright, look behind you." He slowly looked over his shoulder, half expecting a hoard of armed gunmen to be there. But there was a statue of local dignitary or someone of the like. Around the base a small family played. A father and his to children, one a boy and the other a girl. Obviously twin, both had coffee brown hair. The boy was shirtless and wore a pair of shorts. While the girl wore a sunflower colored dress. The father wore slacks and an unkempt looking, paint stained shirt. All three raced around kicking a ball between them. The mother of the family a smart looking woman in a blue dress that reached her knee's, with an apron over the top. Laughed as she watched her family play.
"Don't they look happy."
"Yeah." Vash smiled. It was nice to see parents playing with their kids, it didn't happen that much nowadays the parents were too busy working and there were a lot of single parents around.
"Just makes me think, that's all. What I'm gonna be like with kids."
"You've always been great with kids. Well whenever I've seen you with them anyway."
"Yeah, but it's different when their your flesh an' blood."
"I guess."
"Yeah, I'd reckon so." There was a brief pause.
"Spikey, Y'know me an Millie have been getting kind of close recently. I got a favor to ask." A momentary look of horror crossed Vash's face.
"She's not... I mean you've not." This got a smile from the priest.
"Nope, Nothing' like that, its just... If I ever have kids. Y'know flesh an' blood kids. I want you tell 'em everything. 'Bout me the good an' the bad stuff." Vash nodded slowly.
"Sure... I guess."
"No. Vash you gotta promise me."
"Okay. If it means that much to you. I promise."
"Twenty one."
"This hurts." Eliana growled performing her twenty second press up. Her lower legs were resting on top of one of the benches in the basement one crossed over the other. Her body was rigidly straight she went down, then pushed herself back to complete the exercise.
"Its supposed too, Twenty two." Knives replied nonchalantly. He was sitting in a chair that placed near the work bench. His hands were working several small metal objects she couldn't see.
"Really, I think your making me do this to get back at me." Her words ripped out in rags between deep, heavy breaths.
"Would I do that? Twenty three."
"Yes."
"True. Twenty four."
"Ugh, I cant believe you just admitted that." Again the sentence came out in between gasps of breath.
"Twenty five, Your done." She slumped forward, landing roughly on the concert floor, all the tension in keeping her body straight now gone. Replaced by a constant ache in her upper arm muscles, as well as those around her shoulder. Sweat ran off her in beads, and wet patches had formed on the back of her t-shirt.
"That wasn't bad for a first try. Soon you'll be doing a hundred a day." She didn't reply. Considering talking a waste of precious air at the moment. Plus cursing him wouldn't really do any good anyway. He would just ignore it like he always did. There was an audible click, then she heard him murmur.
"All done." He rose from his seat and walked to a spot where light flooded in from the open windows. Holding the metal object up to the light. The strip lights were turned off as it was too hot in the room for them to be on and the windows provided adequate lighting. He turned the object over in his hands several times. Inspecting ever inch of it.
"I just finished the chamber of your gun." He announced.
"Really?" She replied, she had now rolled onto her back it was a far more comfortable position that just lying slumped on the stone floor. Which she mused was having a nice cooling effect on her.
"Yes."
"You're making me a gun?"
"Of course, I made Vash's."
"How come you don't just buy them?" She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him and the cylindrical shaped bullet chamber he was holding.
"Superior craftsmanship. Plus this type of gun is hard to come by."
"If you say so." There was a pause before Knives spoke.
"It's nearing midday." He said looking out of the window. "You should rest, we'll start again the morning." She nodded grudgingly. Feeling her stomach rumble she looked at Knives. She hadn't seen him eat a thing all day.
"Knives?" He looked at her briefly then sat back down at the desk and began rifling through the pieces of metal on the desk.
"Do you want something to eat?"
"If it isn't poisoned."
"Hey!" He smirked as she stormed up the stairs muttering.
"Humans." He shook his head and resumed his work.
"Vash?" came the hesitant voice.
"Hrm." He looked up at the raven haired girl. Pulled back from his memories of times long gone, by her voice. Reaching for his canteen and brought it too his lips. Tipping his head back he drank deeply. Wishing that it was in some way contained alcohol.
"Is it 'bout my dad?" She asked before he had time to speak. He nodded. And swallowed one last gulp of water.
"Yeah."
"What about him?"
"He's not, I mean he wasn't the guy you think he is. Sure he was kind and helped people in trouble. But there was another side to him. A darker one." He drew in a deep breath.
"He killed people. A lot of people. And, he did things he was ashamed of. He was a good man, But he just wasn't the saint you think he is." Her eyes welled up a little. Tears starting to form. Vash sat still for a moment looking at her. He hated himself for what he'd just done, he had just shattered a girl illusions of her father .
"He made me promise, Your dad. To tell you everything about him. I didn't wanna but I promised. He made me." His voice was cold, devoid of its usual life. He balled his hand into a tight fist, it was all he could do to stop from crying.
"But Mom said..."
"I know. She was just trying to give the best image of him."
"Why?"
"Soph, your mom loved him very much, as much as one person can another. She has a way of seeing the best in everyone y'know. She can always see an ounce of goodness in even in the darkest people." He paused
"She wanted you to think well of him, think of him like she does."
"Yeah I guess." She smiled a little and wiped her eyes.
"Do you wanna here another story." Her eyes lit up.
"If you promise not to sugar-coat it."
"I do."
"Then yes I wanna hear another story." She beamed.