Yay, another chapter! :D

Chapters are getting much longer than the usual. I'm still trying to keep some consistency though, so just tell me if they feel rushed, alright? Thanks for reading!

The Clean Slate

A clean slate. To leave behind the past of misery, selfishness, pleasure, murder, and pain. To feel alive again. To not be scared of every shadow anymore. To be rid of the portrait.

Gill Gray's only hope walking through the dense underbrush was the impossible clean slate. He couldn't let himself believe a new life was unachievable, or he would stop walking. He might turn himself in. He might go back. And that was utterly impossible now…

"Stupid!" Gill shouted at no one, planting his palm firmly against a rough trunk. He slowly pulled himself up the muddy slope. Since his encounter at the diner in Echo Village, Gill weighed the true severity of his situation. He couldn't just go bursting into villages like an idiot. He would just be waiting to be recognized. So roads were done for him. It was his own path now. "The food was barely worth the risk…"

The painting on his back caught a low, grabby branch and it snagged. Angry enough, Gill struggled to free the portrait. He quickly broke branches over his head until he found the right one. The tube was released and jerked him forward. "Vex of my travels…! God damn these forsaken forests!"

"And all those who wander inside?"

Gill whirled around. Expecting to come face to face with the unmistakable voice, Gill only saw the slopes of the hills and trees. Dead leaves like a carpet, briars and brambles around every corner. Grey skies overhead, threatening to mist. Frozen silence.

His heart beat faster as he began to panic. Every shadow started to look like Lord Wotton, and every stick cracked under his foot was the strike of the cane. Did Julius follow him all this way? Would he? Could he?

Logic nagged in the back of Gill's mind. No. Julius isn't here. It's your imagination. You're hungry. You're tired. You're paranoid.

Gill nodded to himself, taking a deep breath. His face hardening, he determined to ignore any voices he might hear and focus on walking. Always walking…

Another day passed. Gill's rumbling stomach was his only distraction as he paced forward. Rain fell. It was warm and clean, and Gill embraced the free drink.

Eventually, the trees ended. Soggy and exhausted, Gill stumbled into an open field. Tall brown grass stretched high past his knees. Another section of trees leered at him in the darkening evening.

What was most interesting about this particular field was the old windmill at its center. Ivy crawled up its stucco sides, and its large cracks were packed with weeds. The great wooden vanes were still even though the rain brought a sharp wind. They were heavy and coated with plants, mere skeletons of what they were before decay.

Gill ran towards it and inspected all sides. There were no windows, so it was impossible to tell how dark it was inside. Or if someone was living in it already. A rickety door with an iron latch stood underneath the four vanes. Gill knocked once before letting himself inside.

It was empty. The roof was enough window, Gill could see. Gaping holes brought light in with the rain in patches. Standing in the dark, Gill held his breath. Waiting for an animal or some defender of the old windmill to strike. But it was abandoned. Shelves around the room were empty – looted years ago. Random tools of all sorts from tractor plows to railroad stakes cluttered the small, round room. Cobwebs covered almost everything – everything else was covered in grape vines.

Gill scoped out the area and seated himself against a broken staircase. It seemed there was a small upper floor used for the windmill's maintenance, but it was impossible to reach without a ladder. Gill closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He found the creaky floorboards underneath him reminiscent of his attic – the last place he wanted to remember.

He couldn't shut his eyes. Not without seeing Toby. He never imagined his friend could haunt him so much. What those green eyes could do to make his blood run cold…

Gill rubbed his eyes and looked around in the dim. The broken floor boards were gnawed by rats and other mystery rodents, creating large gaps in the floor. It was surprising that the foundation wasn't completely crumbled. That this windmill was still standing.

In the dark, Gill's hand found cool metal. He wrapped his fingers around it, bringing it close to his face to inspect it. It was an old padlock, rough with maroon colored rust. He chipped away at it with his finger nail, brown flecks falling down onto his stained khaki pants. Rolling his shoulders, Gill pulled at the strap holding the portrait to his back. He swung it over his head and set the rolled up painting in his lap.

It wasn't long before Gill found the discarded key to the padlock on a nearby table. It was simple, with just a loop on the end and two prongs. The key was just as rusted as the lock it belonged to. Drifting off to sleep, Gill busied himself with locking and unlocking the padlock again and again… and again and again…

"I bet he relives that day… again and again and again…"

Gill's eyes snapped open. The sun's yellow rays cast dusty streaks across the windmill's interior. The patches in the ceiling glowed brilliantly in the late morning light. The full circle of the room was revealed. Tables, shelves, and some sort of generator. Tarps and burlap bags were strewn empty all across the floor. Sometime during the night, Gill had pulled one over his legs as a blanket.

He rubbed his eyes and stretched, sick of the sore sleeping position of sitting up. Gill moodily surveyed the room and found the key and padlock still in his hand. He dropped it and inspected the floor.

The broken wood at his feet didn't seem to end. Upon further study, there seemed to be a false bottom of sorts. There were two floors. Gill didn't know the reason to build a wooden floor and then leave a gap and build another, but an idea was forming.

His hand snatched his portrait and the ties were quickly ripped off. The canvas was thick but pliable with the amount of moisture and air it was exposed to. Gill took an end and flung it out before him like a sheet. The painting unfurled and revealed the wicked face of his nightmares smiling out with yellowing teeth and eagerness in the icy pupils of the eyes.

Gill attempted to stuff the portrait below the floor, but the hole was too small. Using one of the railroad stakes, Gill pried up the floorboards with ease. The nails that kept them in place were still silver and smooth from their embedded home in the wood. They slid out simply enough and were cast aside. Once an opening had been created, Gill put the portrait inside facing up. As if in a burial, he quickly began to replace the floor boards. He used the stake to hammer the nails back into place.

Task complete, Gill snatched up the padlock and key like he was in a race against the clock. With a bit of twine he had from the portrait, he left the windmill and slammed the door shut. Padlock at the ready, he maneuvered it around the latch and locked it tight, testing the door and finding it wouldn't budge. Not without the key.

Key and rope combined to make a necklace that Gill pulled over his head. He held the rusty key in his hand and leant against the heavy door. "Safe… and sound… Out of sight; out of mind."

Looking around the field, Gill again saw that he was completely alone. The path he had made through the grass the day before was already springing back to life. It was a long shot, but the windmill seemed to be the perfect spot for secrets. As long as he kept the key's origin a secret, no one should disturb this place.

Even so, who would tear up the floor? Gill reasoned. He brushed the dust from his pants and shirt and studied the surrounding forest and decided to press on and see what he could find. Hopefully, it would be food.

"Grandpa, I need three fish meals for the guys!" Katie bounced up to the counter.

Her grandfather nodded his head with a smile. "Wine for them, too?"

"Of course!" She giggled. Though it wasn't needed in their little town, what with the population a staggering sixteen (including herself), a pen and paper were clutched firmly in her hand, notes all neat and tidy. Katie was ever one to organize herself and be as professional as possible.

Wallace turned to the fryer, prodding the fish filets with a skewer. "Are you capable of making the drinks?"

"Yes, sir!" Katie saluted gallantly. "All by myself."

"You sure?"

"Grandpa! It's just from the bottle!" She whined.

Wallace chuckled. "Atta girl…"

Katie hurried around the counter and gave her grandfather a peck on the cheek. She stood on her tiptoes to reach the row of wine bottles over their heads.

Across the bar room sat three men of varying ages talking about the same old same old. Waiting for their food, Joe – the youngest – propped his feet on an empty chair and tucked his arms behind his head. "Ah…! Long day!"

"You barely did anything," His grandfather muttered. He probably rolled his eyes, but it would be difficult to see under his bushy white eyebrows. "Ditched work early to fish again."

"Hey, I like what I like!" Joe defended himself with a silly grin.

"Wouldn't mind so much if you brought something back…" Woody said.

Katie appeared with three glasses of alcohol. All special nut wine her grandfather's café/bar was famous for. "Your fish should be ready in a jiffy! Can I get you guys anything else?"

"Thanks, Katie, but I'm fine," Ronald, the local grocer sighed. He took a large sip from his glass.

"No thanks, Kate," Woody shook his head.

"Yeah, do you have any cookies left? But not the ones you made – Wallace's," Joe piped up.

Katie left the table with a huff, ignoring his request. She stood behind the bar counting the coins in the register, giving him dark looks whenever she could.

Woody chuckled and batted Joe's bandana over his eyes. "Nimrod. She's become a pretty decent cook. Show some respect."

"Yeah, her cake was pretty popular in Flowerbud City, wasn't it?" Ronald added. Woody gave a silent nod in agreement.

Joe pushed the bandana out of his face. "That was years ago! Besides, wasn't that mostly Harry? He had that recipe in his old house or something…"

The door swung open, and the burly Bob appeared. Gruff and frowning as usual, the animal dealer stomped the dirt off his shoes at the mat and made his way to an empty chair. There being only two tables in the tiny restaurant, he sat down next to Ronald.

"How's it going, Bob?" Ronald held out his hand.

Bob shook it with a booming laugh to follow. "Ron, long time no see! Been busy these couple weeks with the new calves. How's business?"

"Same, which isn't anything to complain about," Ronald smiled.

Bob made himself comfortable in his seat. The way his mood could change on a dime could be considered intimidating, but the town was like a family and everyone was used to it by now. Joe didn't even flinch anymore. The boy had to take his feet off the chair for Bob to sit down, but he didn't seem to mind.

After Katie came back with the usual wheat wine for him, Bob poured out his troubles. "Tim's gone missing again."

"Missing?" Ronald asked.

"More like run off," Bob admitted, taking a swig. "I don't know how to deal with teenagers. He doesn't listen anymore. Not intimidated, you know? How'd you get through it, Woody?"

The old man sat back in his chair with a snort and a thumb pointed at Joe. "Wouldn't know. Kurt's never caused any trouble, and this one wasn't smart enough to put up any rebellion."

"Hey!" Joe protested. Katie was snickering behind the counter.

"It'll pass," Woody continued, ignoring his grandson. "Just give the boy some space. Watching Tim grow up, I know he'll come around. He's just got some wander lust."

"I still have wander lust…" Katie muttered to herself, shutting the cash register.

"Order up, Katie," Wallace said. His voice was soft and quiet, but she always made sure to listen for it in the busy bar room.

"'Kay, Grandpa," she said. She stacked the plates on the tray, smiling that her grandfather had made food for Bob long before he came. It was just how life worked in the little valley. There was a routine, but it was relaxing and steady.

As she passed the plates of fish out, the door opened again. In marched Tim himself, Bob's little brother. Though he was only four years younger than her, Katie always felt much older. She couldn't help but picture him as a permanent twelve year old boy. But Tim was already sixteen. He was really starting to grow up. Though he still wore that stupid safari hat for his adventures…

"Tim! Where've you been, boy?" Bob asked.

"Out," Tim said shortly.

"Cute," his brother argued.

"Come on in," Tim called behind him, stepping aside. "They won't bite."

Katie's head immediately shot up with interest. Coming in behind Tim was a stunningly handsome young man. Though his clothes were ill-fit and travel worn, his face made up for it. From across the bar, Katie could see he had sharp blue eyes. Platinum hair with a cute curl at the top and a tall build. Not too skinny, not too hefty. He must've been around her age, too…

"Welcome, stranger," Wallace was saying, showing the new comer to a seat. Tim and Joe pushed the tables together to make one big eating aisle like they did at parties. An extra chair or two was pulled up and everyone was seated.

Katie found herself pulling on her brown corkscrew curls. They were long and easy for her to drag her fingers through as she leant her elbows on the counter. Did she look okay? Was this dress too childish? She should lose the headband – good, gone. Fix the hair… Goddess, he's gorgeous!

She didn't realize she was staring until everyone was looking at her. "Katie?" Wallace prompted.

"Huh? Er-uh-yeah?" She stood straight, hands behind her back in attention. Joe was having a good time with this, holding in his laughter. She tried not to stick her tongue out at him.

"Why don't you start another fish for our friend? And bring some nut wine," Wallace smiled patiently.

"Coming right up, Grandpa!" Katie quickly spun on her heel. Facing the hot fryer and grill gave her an excuse why her face was so red and warm.

"My name's Bob," the animal dealer was the first to introduce himself, holding out a hand. "What's your name, stranger?"

The stranger gave him a firm handshake. "Erm-Toby…"

"Toby?" Woody asked. The old man was the only one shrewd enough to see that Gill was lying.

Gill nodded, keeping eye contact. "It's been awhile since I've had to introduce myself…"

"Well, I'm Joe! I like to fish!" Joe smiled goofily. Nearly everyone had to refrain from sighing or slapping their foreheads at his announcement. "Over there's Ronald – real friendly guy. We've got Woody - my Gramps, Ol' Wallace, and Katie."

"Nice to meet you," Ronald held up a hand to wave.

"Nice to meet everyone," 'Toby' forced a small smile in return.

Bob turned to Tim. "Exactly how far out did you go 'adventuring' today?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "Hey, if I didn't, this guy wouldn't be getting any food…"

Katie took the opportunity the arguing brothers gave her and quietly slipped in with the nut wine for Gill and a glass of water just in case. He saw her and thanked her, to which she blanched and quickly hurried away back to the kitchen.

"Where you from, Toby?" Ronald asked. "Looks like you've had a rough road."

"Yeah, you come from the city? You've got city clothes," Joe added, staring at the blue button up.

"Don't go burdening the lad with too many questions," Wallace wisely cut in as he went back to help Katie speed things up.

"Wallace is right," Woody nodded, finishing off his food. "Tired and hungry. Not up for socializin'."

Gill wasn't quite sure what to say to that, and things quieted down. Soon, Woody left and Joe was carted out waving his good-byes. Ronald said his farewells soon after and shook hands will Gill before he left. Katie finally arrived with the fish meal. Everyone noticed how Gill couldn't hide how fast he ate.

Tim was relating the story to his brother how he had found 'Toby' out in the woods travelling. He shared some water from his canteen and offered to show him to a place he could get food. Tim added in a whisper: "Kind of weird though – he only agreed after I told him this place didn't have any roads going in or out. Real secluded, you know?"

Bob nodded, but he was a trusting sort. "Well, some people like to keep to themselves, Tim. Can't blame him for wanting to escape the city…"

"I guess…" Tim shrugged and sank into his seat. Bob swatted his hand when he reached for his glass of wine.

"So… Can we get you anything, Toby?" Katie smiled girlishly, fanning out her skirt. She was glad Joe was gone, so he couldn't tease her anymore. Her bolder self was coming back without the pressure the carpenter put on her. "Some more wine, maybe?"

"No, thank you," Gill said, ever the polite gentleman. He made a mental note to accent his speech more so his high class history could be disguised better. "Um, actually…"

"Yes?" She asked a bit too eagerly, her eyes shining.

Gill didn't take any notice of her obvious fancy. "Do you have a newspaper?"

Wallace spoke up from the counter. "Sorry, not big enough for a newspaper. Nothing to write about here. Wouldn't know where to find one, anyways."

"Exactly where am I?" Gill asked.

Katie giggled that someone was ignorant to something she knew. She liked how his face screwed up when he was confused, too. "You're in Sugar Village! We're not very big – haven't got more than a handful of buildings, but I promise you won't like any place better."

"You planning on sticking around?" Bob asked.

"I… I'm not sure," Gill said, holding the key around his neck. It was under his shirt, so it wasn't obvious but it was rather awkward.

"Better to decide these things on a full night's rest," Wallace smiled, adjusting his suspenders.

"We've got an extra room!" Katie volunteered.

"I'd hate to impose—"

"Never you mind; we've got plenty of room," she insisted, rocking anxiously back and forth on her heels.

"Well…" Gill ran a hand threw his hair and looked down at his empty plate. The money left in his pockets could afford the meal but not a room for the night. He gripped the coins, trying to count them without looking.

Wallace knew the look well. He gave a genial smile. "Like my grand-daughter said – never you mind. We'll set you up right. And don't worry about the food – it's on the house tonight."

"Oh, I couldn't…" Gill started but stopped himself. He looked up with a grateful smile. "Thank you very much, sir."

"Atta boy. Katie, why don't you show this young man to his room? He's had a long day," Wallace took the empty plates off the table.

"Right this way, Toby!" Katie directed to a door behind the counter. Gill stood and followed her out. Her tour guide voice echoed throughout the bar before the door shut. "Over here's the bathroom down the hall, and right next door is your room! There's not much, but there's a bed and—"

"It might be an idea to help your brother home, Tim. He's had enough out of the bottle," Wallace shook his head, taking the empty alcohol glasses away as well.

Tim rolled his eyes and helped his brother to his feet. Bob burped and smiled merrily. "I don't like when you run off all the time without telling me, Tim… Worries me sick…"

"Alright, alright… I'm sorry. Come on, let's go, Tubby," Tim dropped the right amount of coins and directed his brother out the front door.

Wallace shook his head again, washing the dishes. Katie soon reappeared to help clean up. "Toby all settled in?"

Katie picked up a towel and started to dry the dishes her grand-father finished with. "Mmhm! I hope he stays, Grandpa. We haven't had anybody new in… in ever!"

"It is nice to see a new face," Wallace agreed. "Promise not to smother him too fast."

"Grandpa!" Katie whined, lightly hitting him with the towel. She blushed despite herself.