Chapter Two: Orange
"Herry, dear, come here. I have a present for you."
Looking up from his place tending to the fruit trees looming overhead around the perimeter of his garden, the ten-year-old boy obediently stood and brushed his dirty hands across the patched cloth of his shorts. Carefully and methodically putting the spade and clippers back on the ground, Herry walked over to his grandmother, who sat in a rocking chair knitting. She dumped the quickly forming blue sweater at her feet, and smiled toothlessly at him.
"That?" the boy asked as he pointed at the sweater, confused, "I thought that was for the chicken?"
Shaking her head with a laugh, his grandmother stood and began digging around in the pockets of her apron. "No, I've got something better," she grunted, as she produced several balls of fluff and a few chicken feathers. "I'm sure you'll love it."
Patiently standing in front of her, Herry stuck his own hands in his pockets, feeling the soft dirt encrusted on the tips of his fingers. He had grown up around dirt and fields his whole life, and had worked the crops and fed the animals for what seemed his whole life; guaranteed, he wasn't the brightest lightbulb in the package, but he knew good apples from bad and when the hens were sick, which was good enough for him. He couldn't remember not being with his grandmother; she stated that his parents were off in a city somewhere, making a living for their future, but sometimes Herry wondered whether she was just making it all up, especially when the letters he sent off were returned, unopened and without a reply. He got by perfectly well without his parents, though; she cooked and cleaned and often went out with her sleeves rolled up to harvest the wheat, and he helped out on the farm with his above-average strength and endurance. His fear of bacteria didn't hinder them in the least, unless they had to tackle the pig sties.
With an 'aha!', Granny finally dug out the object she was looking for, and dropped it into his now outreached hand. Herry blinked at it for a moment as the light glinted off its metallic surface. Finally, his mind registered and he looked back up to his grandmother. "A toy truck?"
"I hope you like it, Herry," she said happily, eyes squinting up in her huge smile. "You do, don't you?"
Hesitating, Herry looked back down at the orange toy truck sitting in his palm. He was ten years old and far past the toy truck stage, though he'd never really been in that stage at all, especially when there were real tractors on the farm and animals to play with. However, he never wanted to disappoint his Granny; she was the only other person who really believed he would amount to something. His teachers thought him stupid and only just passing school with the grades he worked so hard for, and all the other kids at school made fun of him for living with his eccentric grandmother as well as his strangely growing appetite and strength. It would not be a wise choice to cause his grandmother unhappiness, he decided, and put on a smile. "Thanks, Granny," he said quietly, pocketing the toy truck.
Smile growing even bigger, she regarded him for a silent moment with a twinkle in her eye. "Good," his Granny finally answered happily, then picked up her knitting and started inside. "I put some peach cobbler in the oven. It should be done soon, why don't I cut you a piece with some lemonade?"
Herry's smile widened, genuinely becoming a grin. "Thanks, Granny!" he replied excitedly, and she gave him one last smile before diappearing through the screen door. Amused as he shook his head, Herry turned back to the apple tree and took out the orange truck from his pocket. "Orange," Herry muttered, and chuckled.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
It wasn't fair, Herry wanted to shout as he stormed out of the brownstone, slamming the door so spectacularly it visibly trembled on its hinges. It wasn't fair. He hadn't chosen to not be the sharpest tack in the drawer. If he'd wanted, he would have chosen anything but, anything that wouldn't merit ridicule from the very people he classified as his friends.
Of course, it was a different situation here; most people weren't thrown together into a realm of chaos where mythology and reality merged, weren't separated from their homes and turned upside down into a world of supernatural legends and beautiful goddesses hidden deep inside a high school only normal on the surface. People didn't usually decide to be unbreakable friends after only knowing each other for two weeks.
But the usual always came to a grinding halt when it came to Herry.
On a normal - or not so normal - night at the brownstone, when the seven had gathered around the TV for a special all-night feature on Greek mythology - Jay deciding it educational, Archie declaring it fun to make fun of - the screen flickered quietly as an opening theme slid across the screen. Brilliant colours mixed and merged as various people began to move on the screen amid a mass of text.
Too quick, too impatient to read the title fading in below the image, Herry had pointed to the man dragging a huge lion-like creature across the screen, asking who it was. With a burst of laughter, the others had not answered his question, only rolling about in chuckles as he realised with dread it was Hercules. Famous Hercules, amazing Hercules - his ancestor, Hercules, in the days of his youth as depicted by the show.
His face burned red as their laughter subsided into giggles. "Didn't you see it?" Atlanta managed to squeak. Neil's grin widened as he gave another high-pitched laugh, not missing a chance to turn to look at him and deadpan, "we already knew he couldn't read, now he's blind as well!"
Though Jay immediately straightened up with a frown on his face and Odie's eyes narrowed slightly, the others still fell about snorting in laughter, and Herry lost control. He swept his arm across the bowl of popcorn on his lap, scattering popped kernels all over the place and striding away in anger as Jay attempted, in vain, to call him back.
With another growl at the memory, Herry stormed up to his orange truck, hoping for some driving therapy to calm him down. He was only angered further, though, when he realised he'd left his keys inside. Infuriated and out of control, the herculean teenager launched a tightly clenched fist at the clean orange paintwork, impacting the metal with a loud crunch and leaving a huge dent on the door. Several orange flakes drifted dreamily downwards, swirling about each other in a myriad of colour.
He watched them for a moment, before turning away in a rage.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Setting off down the alley in the direction of the park, Herry sighed as his shirt and shorts clung to his skin in the chilly wind. It was all very well, he decided, to be incredibly smart but have no physical skill, because then people at least knew that you could beat them in a round of verbal sparring. But he hated being so strong and fit yet have so much trouble with his grades; if he even once used his fists to defend himself, he was labelled as a brute. No matter how hard he tried, even back at the farm, he always made mistakes. The only person who really understood him was his granny, but she was all the way back at the farm in Saskatchewan - boy, could he do with some of her advice at the moment.
Picking up the pace as he rounded to corner to the park, Herry began to lightly jog against the beaten concrete path. He tried to take his mind off things, offer a grin and a wink to the pretty girls standing in a group, tip his head politely to the elderly couples strolling, but still thudding softly in the back of his mind was stupid, stupid, stupid.
His face setting into a grim mask, Herry's steps grew faster as his jog turned into a run, feet impacting the path and beating the rhythm in which he took his breaths. Pushing himself to the limit, he kept on running even when he had rounded the lake several times. The sky, dark and clouding over with heavy drops of rain, began to crackle with unseen energy, everyone else packing up to leave before the skies released their fury.
Herry didn't mind rain. It was dark and depressing and somewhat dirty, true, but it was good for the crops and good for the plants, and he reminded himself of how much he missed his grandmother again as he slowed to a walk, raising his arms up to embrace the falling rain. His hair and shirt were plastered to his skin and his shoes began to squelch, but he stopped in the middle of the path to savour the drops falling like crystal tears from the ever-powerful sky.
"Herry!"
Turning, eyes narrowing slightly as he squinted to tell the figure under the umbrella from the darkness of setting night, Herry's back stiffened slightly. It was Odie. Smart, resourceful, intelligent Odie. "Come to laugh at me more, eh?" Herry growled loudly, eyes narrowing further as he walked towards the smaller boy.
"Nah," he replied calmly, voice rising over the loud patter of the rain falling on the mud, "I figured you might like an umbrella."
Herry shrugged, heartbeat slowling to a reasonable pace as the other boy's voice echoed in the air. "I'm already wet."
"I saw your truck," Odie tried instead, squinting behind his green-tinted glasses. "You do that?"
His mind flickering back to the rage he'd felt earlier, Herry guiltily lowered his head and shuffled next to the other boy. "Yeah," he muttered, feeling somewhat ashamed. It wasn't good to ever lose his temper like that, and now he'd put a huge dent in the side of his beloved truck as well.
They walked in silence for a moment in the general direction of the brownstone. We must be a picture, Herry thought in some amusement, me and him together, wet and dry and big and small. With something like a pang of fondness, he reached over and ruffled the hair of Odie. Playfully pushing his hand away, Odie protested, "watch the 'fro!"
Herry rolled his eyes with a grin, sticking his hands in his pockets and looking upwards to where the clouds had begun to break. The rain had slowed somewhat, merely pitter-pattering gently on the sidewalk as they sludged through the gravel littering the back streets. A thought came to mind and Herry cautiously asked, "did Jay send you?"
Odie laughed. "No way, man," he answered with amusement. "I can think for myself, you know." Pausing slightly to focus earnestly on the other boy, Odie added gently, "you just looked like you needed someone."
Herry hesitated. "We're really - different, you know," he stated finally.
"Not really," Odie shot back. "I'm black, you're white. Not much of a difference there, it's just colour."
"No, I don't mean that," Herry said painfully, trying to stare ahead without any emotion twisting his expression, "You - you're really smart. And I'm just... stu- ow!"
Swiftly, Odie had brought around the umbrella and banged him on the head, hard, with furious written all over his face. "What was that for?" Herry asked, in shock as his hand rose to massage the side of his skull.
"Don't say that," Odie answered angrily, eyes glued on his. "Don't ever even try to say that again, or I'll - I'll - I'll punch you!"
Herry began to snicker then promptly and tactfully clapped his hand over his mouth, the image of Odie even trying to punch anything replaying pathetically in his mind. "Well, seriously," he added softly once the urge to laugh faded, "I am."
Odie flat-out stopped in the middle of the alley, the glint of Herry's orange truck just visible up the street. "No," he started out dangerously, his voice rising forcefully as he began to speak, "You aren't, and I don't ever want to hear you even try to say that you're stupid because I know you're not and even if anyone else thinks so, why do you care? You've got plenty going for you, you can fight, you can work, you can do so many things so just - shut up!"
Still breathing heavily, Odie continued to step along the alley, Herry staring at him incredulously as he followed. "They used to make fun of me at school," he said numbly, still processing the meaning of Odie's words.
Odie stared up at him for a moment, then looked away, choosing a simple sentence as he snapped his umbrella closed. "They made fun of me, too."
The silence between them was perfectly comfortable, then, as the rain stopped entirely and the clouds still lingering in the darkening sky began to fade. Herry stopped once they reached his truck, now dented on one side but still gloriously orange anyway, and asked graciously, "you want to go for a ride?"
Looking at him, a grin on his face, Odie replied cheerfully, "You bet."
Herry started patting his pockets for the keys, frowning slightly as he wondered where they were. Remembering the previous events, the larger teenager paused and looked back at Odie. "I brought them," he answered mischievously to the questioning gaze, and clumsily threw Herry the keys. Catching them easily, Herry unlocked the truck and jumped in, revving the engine as the other boy got in. Once the doors were both closed, Herry grinned down at his friend and said gently, "thanks."
With that one quiet word hanging in the air, the bright orange truck lunged forward and sped down the dark alley, forever into the darkening sky over New Olympia as an amazing friendship began.
A/N: There we go, orange for Herry! Just so you know, I just love the Odie/Herry dynamic in the show, I'm not a slashy person or anything, so this is just a friendship between two completely different people that somehow fits. (: Next up is yellow with a feature from one of the most-loved characters of the seven. ;)