Author stuff: While I didn't remember writing the last chapter, I remember writing this one. I was at work. It was cold, and I had to have a space heater because the furnace for the lobby was broken.
It was bad because I had to mop the floor every couple of hours, and with there being snow outside, cleaning up the dried salt was a pain. Seriously makes me reconsider where I live. Anybody in a non-northern US state looking for a roommate?
Anyway, my baby sister got married this past Friday. It was a little courthouse ceremony where the judge permitted them to remove their face masks to kiss, and some of our friends and family got together for a small reception at brother-in-law's mother's house. I posted a couple of pictures on my tumblr (just search my wedding tag). It was nice and it was the first time I had a weekend off since last June.
COVID has been… yeah.
Trigger warning: There is some drinking of alcohol in this chapter.
Chapter 5
In Which Newt Has… Something To Do
The wrestling match was painful to watch – and was probably more painful to experience. Flossy wasn't sure who she wanted to win. If she really wanted anyone to win, that is. There seemed to be a pecking order of sorts. If Archie won, he would throw that off and Gally would most likely hold a grudge against him for that. If Gally won, Archie would be bitter about it, there was no doubt about it.
Boys, she decided, were strange, curious creatures with a penchant for bluntness and physical violence. How she was going to handle living in this place – without any other female support – she had no idea.
She winced as Gally was thrown back in the circle after the second round. He and Archie prowled the sand like freakish predators while they waited for the other to strike first.
"This is going to be interesting," Newt said next to her. She nodded, watching as the boys flexed their hands like a cat does its paws, fingers curled towards their palms like claws or talons.
She didn't see who struck first, she just saw the aftermath. Sand was kicked high into the air as both boys pinwheeled around. She ducked behind Newt in hopes of not getting sand all over her, though her action did very little to actually help. Several of the nearby Gladers let out cries as it plopped into their drinks.
When she finally peaked around Newt's arm, Archie was out of the circle and Gally was breathing heavily in the sandpit. Gally walked over to Archie and offered him a hand. Archie took it. Both boys pat each other on the back, laughing good naturedly. The two talked, grinning, as they walked over to Frypan and the bacon he'd cooked up – and the drink station, she noted.
Okay, she understood less of boys than she thought. A lot less.
"Well that was fun," Newt said, frowning down into his jar. He dumped up the amber liquid into the grass. He gestured for her and Graham to follow him.
Archie was handed a half-filled jar. Gally held one out to her and Graham. She took it, eyeing the liquid curiously. Graham downed a portion of it before choking.
"What is this stuff?" he said, gaping at the beverage.
"My own brew," Gally said, crossing his arms and leaning against the table holding up Frypan's bacon, with a smirk and mirth dancing in his eyes. "What's the matter, Greenbean, can't handle it?"
Archie took a sip and almost immediately spit it out. His eyes were watering. Newt, Frypan, and Gally traded amused expressions. Apparently, this was something that entertained them immensely.
"I don't think you're going to like it, Girlie," Newt said, looking down at her.
She took a tentative sip and winced. It wasn't that it tasted that bad — something told her she'd had worse at some point before her abrupt arrival at the Glade — it was more the burn after it went down that got her. After it settled in her stomach she decided she liked the taste, so she took a slightly longer drink. The looks on the boys' faces was well worth the burn down the back of her throat.
"What?" she said, innocently. She had to bite the inside of her cheek from grinning at them. It didn't help much. She couldn't help but be a bit smug.
"Girlie's got bigger balls than half the shanks here," Frypan said, smiling at her. She returned it earnestly – and a smidge more prideful than she should have.
"Not bad, Princess," Gally said with a snort, but the smile didn't completely disappear from his face. And it was a tad softer than the smirk he'd shot towards the boys.
The group slowly dispersed after that. Gally went back to the sandpit. Archie was dragged about by a few other Gladers who wanted to congratulate him on a good fight and offer to go against him the next time he wanted in. Nick came over and gathered Graham for another talk.
Newt stuck nearby, though he tended to look about for something – or, rather, someone – every few minutes or so. He was making her feel anxious.
"If you don't want to babysit me," she said, "you can go do whatever it is you want to do."
"No, no," he said. "It's not that. It's just…"
"Nick normally handles the Greenies, right? This is sort of your first time doing this?"
He scratched the back of his neck.
"Yeah. He's training Alby and me in case anything happens to him. The three of us didn't get on very well when we first came here, but we're the only ones he can trust with keeping everyone in order."
She frowned.
"Why would anything happen to him?" she said.
"Nick's one of our Runners. Me and Alby are too. He usually goes out every other day, so Nick can be around in case anything happens in the Glade."
"And you?"
"As often as I can. I'm the Keeper of the Runners, after all. On days that I don't, I'm helping in the Gardens. Can't stay still very long. It gets boring."
"Are the Gardens nice?"
"It's fairly quiet, usually. Peaceful and relaxing. Zart's a great Keeper. Why, you thinking about being a Track-hoe?"
"I can't see myself as a Builder, that's for sure." Her eyes wandered on their own volition to the sandpit, where Gally was locked in another wrestling match. This time it was with a Glader who could match him in bulk but not in stature. She wondered if he was a Builder as well.
"It takes a certain breed to be a Builder. All brawn, no brains."
She choked on the woody tasting drink, gaping at his audacity. She felt a grin spread across her face.
"What?" Newt said, shrugging innocently – though his eyes glinted mischievously in the glow of the firelight. "It's true."
"Be lucky Gally didn't overhear you," she said, brushing off any of the drink that had dribbled down on her shirt – thankfully, it wasn't much.
"Gally wouldn't do anything to me. He and I have an understanding."
She snorted at that, daring to take another sip. A moment of silence passed between them. It hung over their heads, an uncomfortable sort of feeling resting on her shoulders.
"Newt," she said, "if you have something else you want to do, seriously, go ahead. I'm going to have to get used to being surrounded by boys eventually. If I need any help out of a situation, I'll bother Frypan or another Keeper."
"You'll do what now?" Frypan said, hearing his name. She smiled at him, and he nodded. "Got it. Any slinthead gives her trouble, I've got her back. Same with any of the other Keepers. Go on, shuckhead. She'll be fine. She's had less to drink than half the shanks here."
Newt hesitated for just a moment before jogging off to… Alby, who'd been chatting away with one of the guys who had run out of the Maze earlier that day. After a moment, they walked off to somewhere tucked away in the creepy forest— the Deadheads.
She stuck near Frypan for a little while before she felt that she wore out her welcome and decided to make her rounds to take everything in. She sat down in front of the bonfire, warming the toes of her shoes as she mulled over the conversation she'd had with Nick earlier.
She was going to be sleeping in a spare room in the Homestead. It was one of the two empty sickrooms – something they hadn't needed in a long while. There'd been a big debate on whether or not to have a hut built just for her – something she'd have felt awful for – but after the insistence that it was for her own safety that she be kept near the Keepers, those for building the hut forfeit the idea.
Unless, of course, girls would be coming up from then on. Then an all female hut would be absolutely necessary.
She still wasn't sure if she was lucky or not.
And then there was the matter of clothes. The Creators hadn't sent anything up for a girl, just boys. So, they'd had to recruit a few slimmer and shorter Gladers to donate shirts and trousers for her to wear. Most of them were still a little big on her. She hoped that the Creators in the next shipment of materials – next week, Nick told her – would send her a few things. She'd compiled a list, per Nick's request, of items she thought she'd need in the future.
Seeing Nick blush at the mention of tampons and pads or some form of birth control had been amusing. As if he hadn't been expecting them to be mentioned. Truthfully, he probably hadn't even thought about it until she'd brought it up. It was a girl-only problem, after all. But it was one she wanted some sort of remedy for.
She didn't dare to hope, however, that the Creators would give her something other than some painkillers. Something told her that her monthlies could be painful, and she'd probably need those days off.
She didn't even want to think of what the boys would think of it all. Probably that she was being a sissy or whatever they called weak Gladers. Really, their slang was ridiculous.
"Hey, Girlie, what're you doing here all by yourself?"
A Glader sat next to her, a jar mostly empty in his hand. He wasn't exactly the steadiest on his feet but he was able to sit down rather gently. She scooted away from him, just a bit. After having spent the afternoon with Gladers who forced themselves into her personal space, she needed a little air to breathe. She had a feeling she was used to playing nice, all smiles and polite words, that any kind of bluntness wasn't what people would expect from her. She might have to pick it up, however.
"Sorry," he said, scooching a few inches away, "didn't mean to sit so close. I'm Zart."
He held out a hand to her, looking at her through rather long lashes – he reminded her of a cow. His golden mop of curly hair looked like wheat in the firelight.
"Flossy," she said, shaking his hand. He couldn't be that bad if Newt liked him. And he was Keeper of the Track-hoes, after all.
"Felt like I had to come over here. Heard one of the slintheads talking – you don't want to know what about."
"Me, I'm guessing. And nothing… nice."
He nodded slowly at that.
"Nothing nice," he said. "They're less likely to try something if a Keeper's nearby. Surprised Newt didn't stick around."
"I told him I didn't need a babysitter. And that I'd find a Keeper or go to Frypan if someone was bothering me."
"Good that. Fry's good at keeping eyes on Greenies. Also makes great bacon." He pulled out a few slices from his pocket and offered her one. She shook her head, not wanting to think about what else he might have stored in those pockets.
Zart shrugged and bit off the tops of three slices.
"What're you thinking about?" he said.
"About what?"
"What do you want to be? Your job here in the Glade. Everyone has to have one. We all have to do our part."
"Oh, um, Track-hoe. With you and the others. Newt said it was relaxing."
"Relaxing for a Runner, yeah, but it's hard work. And don't think I'll go easy on you just because you're a girl."
She smiled as he wagged the bacon at her. It was meant to be a threat but coming from him, seemed more playful and teasing.
"And don't tell Gally, either," he said.
"Why not?" she said.
"You're small and light, be great for climbing on roofs that might be rotting."
"Well it's a good thing I don't like heights then. Can't put me up there if I'm going to faint or vomit." She paused for a moment. "Huh. I'm afraid of heights. What do you know?"
Zart blinked at her, a smile shyly making its way across his face.
"Good that," he said. "Good that."
Author stuff cont'd.: I like Zart. And pocket bacon.
I was thinking back to the early days of the internet last night, back when we'd all copy and paste stories and how that later turned into creepypasta on forums. And how we don't really have that anymore. It's kind of really sad.
What am I listening to? Worst Year Ever Podcast
Come find me on tumblr at forgottenyogurtgods
