Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Day Seven-Thirty-Seven: Let's tell a story

One time, when Robert and I were kids, I tried to run away from home.

I'm sure I've mentioned that I never left Villeinville as a child. That's not entirely true. I did leave Villeinville. Thing is, I only went as far as the outsirts before I got caught and shoved back behind the walls.

I remember Robert's face when I told him what I was planning to do. He called me a double-dumb idiot. "Dragomir," he said, "where are you gonna go? Dad says the next town over is, like, a billion miles away! You know how many feet that is?"

"Two billion or so," I replied, fuming. "Don't care. I'll walk all those feet. Mom can't make me eat 'bega salad. I'll find a mom who doesn't do that to her kids."

"They're called 'rutabegas', not 'begas'." Robert could always remember the names of food, no matter how weird or foreign." And they're not that bad. You're just a baby."

"I'm not the baby," I shot back. "You're the baby."

"Double-dumb baby on you!"

We wrestled. Robert won, 'cause he was fatter. Nevertheless, I bribed him into keeping my secret by offering him the entirety of our room. The promise of a bedroom all to his own was too tempting for Robert to give up. He bade me farewell, promised he wouldn't tell our parents what I was doing, and farted on my pillow so I couldn't try and take my bed back. At the time I didn't care - I didn't think I'd ever seen that pillow again.

Stupid child that I was, I made my escape during daytime. Edging 'round the bottom ring of Lord Cannonbottom's tower, thinking that the shadow would hide me from everyone, I crept my way to the outer walls. A few people said hello on the way; I ignored 'em. I was a phantom, dangit, and no one says hello to phantoms.

The only person who didn't notice me was Derby, the wall guard. Lovely, stupid Derby. I wish he had noticed me - then I might not have tumbled over the wall, thinking the whole way down that a twenty foot drop isn't thaaaaat bad. Certainly did a number on my arm when I hit the grass.

I didn't cry, though, or piss my pants. For the first few minutes I was elated. Villeinville was a nice enough place, but the grass beyond the wall... it seemed so long. So fresh. The sea blue sky of the Indy Plains reaked of pure, blissful freedom, and for that short time I embraced the idea of actually running away. Leaving home was not just a childish dream; it was an inevitability.

That is, until I noticed the weird angle of my left arm. It seemed way too crooked. The grandeur faded, the pain hit me, and I bawled 'til Derby screamed at me to declare myself by saying the password. Shortly thereafter I was sent to the town healer, and, my arm in a sling, I was grounded for a month. My mom made certain to feed me 'begas the entire time, as well.

My farty pillow never smelled so bitter as it did that night.

I told this story to Jeffrey today. Just to pass the time. I'd hoped he might laugh. At the very least I hoped he might fucking twitch. But he didn't. Every word went in one ear and right out the other.

I'll try another story tomorrow. Right now I'm too nervous that the Nothing rambling about above us will step in the wrong spot and crush our hiding place. Stay silent, hide, pray for help...


No comments:

Post a Comment