D M Pruden - [Mel Destin SS] - Owen's Gift (html) Read online




  Owen’s Gift - A Mel Destin Short Story

  by D.M. Pruden © 2016

  I slipped into the shadows of the alley, hoping nobody spotted me. It was a big risk for me to cross the little used street. I needed to find safer territory where blending in to the nooks and crannies of a more familiar landscape came naturally.

  For a long time, I debated whether or not the security camera on the corner was active. I didn’t believe the Morality Police actually searched for me, but I couldn’t be too careful when outside of my home turf.

  I should have called for a ride, but I didn’t trust anybody. Still, it had been a bad idea to go into New London alone. I didn’t know the streets, or the people. More critically, I didn’t fit in and seemed to draw inquisitive glances from everyone. None of the back ways were familiar, so I stuck to the main roads, hoping things would be marginally safer.

  Despite dirty looks and upturned noses, I kept my head down and minded my own business. Most adults I passed moved aside to avoid touching a street urchin. I could deal with that. The judgmental stares that followed, burning into my back bothered me, though.

  Things would be worse if I used the back alleys. There, the locals would not ignore my passage. I would be challenged and attacked as an outsider. Far safer to stick to the streets. The secret was to appear like I had a clue where I was going. Except I didn’t.

  Cable, one of Skids’ boy bangers dropped me off to see the new client. He was familiar with the city and had a stolen hover bike. My pimp also trusted him not to rape me. The customer was some uptown executive type with a penchant for the kind of services Skids could provide. I got picked because he wanted a clean freshie, and had the credits to pay for one. The older girls were all high when the call came. Though only fifteen, I could pass for eighteen if people didn’t check too close. Most didn’t.

  A clatter down the dark alley startled me. I peered up at the tall buildings that loomed over me to get my bearings. A few visible upper floors of the Sato Corporate office tower peeked above the local urban canyons. The tallest structure in New London was visible from everywhere. I had to travel another ten klicks before I would be in familiar territory. The setting sun had already vanished behind the skyscrapers and night would fall before too long. I needed to find safety before then.

  Dodging between doorways, I constantly checked that nobody followed. This part of town was empty of people, a lot of the buildings boarded up or damaged beyond repair. Large chunks of concrete and other debris littered the streets from the last attack. Most of the people had been evacuated ages ago, leaving only my kind to skulk through the detritus in an effort to survive. The scene was a sharp contrast to the busy downtown I’d fled hours before.

  The guerrillas’ bombings never happened in the city core. Only the poorer fringes ever got hit. Of course, regular air raids always occurred over Oldon, where I lived. It was like the Terrans and the Lunies had made some tacit agreement only to bomb or blow up the slums. It didn’t make any sense to me. War was supposed to be equal opportunity. I guess it didn’t matter here. If the bombs didn’t kill me, the locals would.

  The sound of an approaching vehicle echoed off from the walls. I searched for what direction the noise came from, then decided to hide in one of the damaged buildings, hoping nobody else was inside. Crouching beneath the sill of a shattered window I listened to the source of the noise move slowly down the cluttered street. The familiar thrum told me it was a police maglev. The vehicle stopped and a scan beam shone through the broken pane and along the interior wall. I crouched lower and shivered. My ID wouldn’t fool them, and any chance of them merely amusing themselves with me and letting me go would evaporate once they found the object in my pocket.

  I held my breath and didn’t move a muscle. Their motion scanners would pick up anything larger than a rat. My leg cramped as the beam seemed to linger for far too long.

  And then it was gone and the hum of the maglev faded. I waited for another minute before dropping to my side and painfully stretching out my cramp. I almost jumped out of my skin when somebody spoke.

  “You’re pretty good at that. I thought for sure you’d give us away.” The voice of a girl or boy, younger than me came from the shadows within the building.

  “Who’s there?” I scrambled up against the wall. My hand closed around a palm sized chunk of concrete I’d picked off the ground.

  “You’re not from around here. It’s okay. I won’t rat you to the scavies.” A boy, about eight years old, stepped out of the darkness. His clothes were more tattered than mine and he was covered in dirt. He regarded me carefully from ten metres away, preferring not to risk a closer approach. His face softened a bit and he said, “I got food and water in the back if you want some.” He sounded like he was trying to coax a feral dog.

  “I’m not a wild’n,” I said, clutching my rock tighter.

  “I know,” he said casually. He took a few steps into the interior of the building. “You coming?”

  I glanced out the broken window at the advancing night. If I took my chances outside I wouldn’t make it very far now. If he had a gang inside waiting to gut me, they wouldn’t leave me alone out here if I declined his offer. Maybe they’d let me eat something before they did me.

  I stood, but held on to my weapon. The boy smiled.

  “My name is Owen,” he said.

  “I’m Mel.”

  He headed into the gloom and I followed, resigned to my fate. But I kept my rock.

  After a couple of turns we emerged into a large abandoned warehouse. The air was dusty and carried the faint scent of piss and rat droppings. From a dimly lit alcove along the wall shone a light from a small lantern. Inside, I saw a tattered blanket tucked over a relatively new looking mattress. A worn pillow and a teddy bear with a missing arm were set at the head of the bed. Off to the side was a wooden box, serving as a table.

  I gave the larger visible warehouse a good once over as we walked towards Owen’s little campsite.

  “We’re the only ones here, if you’re wondering,” he said.

  “Are you here alone?”

  “Most of the time,” he said as he sat cross legged beside the dining table. He invited me to sit across from him.

  “How come nobody else lives here?”

  “They’re afraid of the soldiers,” he said while he fumbled with an old sack. He removed two fresh apples and placed them on top of the box.

  I greedily snatched one and began to devour it. Owen grinned and bit into his own in a more civilized manner.

  “What soldiers?” I asked between mouthfuls.

  “About once every couple of weeks, a bunch of Loonies come in and set up all their stuff in the big space,” he indicated the warehouse.

  “Don’t they see you?”

  He smiled slyly and grasped a rope lying on the floor that I hadn’t noticed. He pulled on it and a metal grating swung down noiselessly, covering the opening completely.

  “I close the door when I hear someone. I can watch them through the grill, but they can’t see me and don’t even know I’m here.”

  I crawled to the barred entry and peeked through the holes. I nodded, impressed, and returned to the table. Owen placed two empty tin cans down and poured clean looking water into them from a large plastic bottle. I sniffed the contents. It was fresh.

  “Where’d you scrounge all this food?”

  “The soldiers bring all kinds of supplies. While they’re away I sneak around and help myself. You want some jerky?” He held outa small bundle of wax paper. I avoid jerky when it is rarely available. I don’t particularly like rat meat. But this seem
ed different.

  “It’s beef,” he said around a mouthful.

  I tentatively tasted the end. The salty, spiced meat was intoxicating and I devoured the exotic delicacy.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Two full moons. My old place got blown. I wasn’t inside, but saw the guys who blew it up. I followed ‘em here. They were gone the next day, so I checked the place out. They left some food and water and a few other things, so I figured they would come back.”

  He chewed on his jerky with no further commentary. He’d found a place to hide from the scavies, the roaming gangs of scavengers who picked through the ruins of the old city. If they caught anyone like Owen or me, they would have their way with us and then kill and eat us. They tended to stay away from areas they might encounter armed resistance, and they probably understood this warehouse was regularly occupied.

  I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them as I sat against the wall of the small space. I absently felt the object in my pocket while I tried to work out a plan to find my way back to my turf in the morning.

  “You wanna play cards?” Owen held a dog eared deck in his hand that appeared far too thin to be complete.

  “Uh, no, thanks,” I said.

  He shrugged and dug into his sack for another item. I hoped he didn’t have another game. He removed a tattered old book. Reclining on his bed, he reverently opened it and began to read silently to himself. He mouthed each word as he stumbled his way through the first page.

  “Where’d you learn to read?”

  He blushed and pulled it protectively to his chest. “I can read just fine,” he said.

  “I can see that. I asked you WHERE you learned.”

  “My Mama used to read this to me before bed every night.” He stared into the space between us and a tear glistened and ran down his cheek.

  “How old were you?” I asked gently.

  “Five; after that it was just me and my sister, ‘cept she didn’t like reading to me.”

  “Where’s she?”

  He sighed and put the book back into the sack. “She’s dead too. The scavies got her.” He reached for the tattered teddy bear to hug while continuing to stare into empty space. He laid down on the mattress and rolled over, showing me his back.

  I watched him in silence for a long time, recalling my own struggles to survive. My mother didn’t die, despite my frequent wishes. She simply drank herself into oblivion, leaving me to fend for myself when I was a little younger than Owen. I tried to remember the last time I’d read a book.

  I moved across the small space and found the bag containing Owen’s treasures. I pulled out the book; a collection of fairy tales. The corners of the pages were well worn for a few of the stories and I guessed that those were his favourites. I could easily imagine him asking his mother to read them night after night.

  He sniffled softly, his back still towards me. My fingers found one of the well turned pages and I opened to the beginning of a familiar story. I leaned against the wall next to his bed and began to read Cinderella to him.

  By the time I got to the part where the fairy godmother appeared, Owen rolled over and faced me. He pushed himself back and invited me to sit beside him on the mattress.

  I read to him until he fell asleep, his head nestled into my ribs. Nobody ever read Cinderella, or any other fairy tale to me before. I identified with the story of a hard luck girl who is given a chance at a new life and seizes it. If only life were really like that. I thought a fairy godmother could come in handy.

  The closest I ever came to one was an encounter with an old guy who offered to send me to school. Wilbur? Walter? Something like that. He gave me a card with his name and number. I thought it might be in one of my pockets, but couldn’t be bothered to look. It was some kind of a scam, I was sure.

  I stretched and yawned. I really needed some sleep. Getting back to Oldon in the morning was my first priority.

  I read four more stories before finally dropping off.

  I awoke alone in the alcove. The lantern was missing and Owen nowhere to be found. With growing panic, I felt around for the opening to the little shelter, and banged my head as I emerged into the larger area of the warehouse. Beams of sunlight filtered through a crack in the ceiling, illuminating a pillar of suspended dust. A shuffling startled me and I turned to see Owen, lantern in one hand and his sack in the other. The eery light made his smile appear grotesque.

  “Care for some breakfast?” A cheerful grin flashed across his face and he disappeared into his little cave. I debated whether I should take the opportunity to quietly leave.

  “Uh, I gotta pee first.” My footfalls were muffled by the dust beneath them as I crept further towards the middle of the open space, searching for a way to slip out unseen.

  “Are you coming? I have a nice ripe melon and some nuts.”

  My conscience pricked me; a little brother I didn’t need. My priority was to return to my own turf. Skids would be mad enough I ran out on the client, even though he was dead when I discovered him. With Owen in tow, the situation would become far worse and I wanted no part in what would happen to him.

  In reality, I had a more immediate problem than my pimp. I had no idea how to find my way back. I could spend days wandering the maze of unfamiliar streets and alleys before stumbling upon anything I recognized. The scavies could pick me off or the Morality Police arrest me long before I found my way alone. I needed help.

  I returned to the alcove. Owen had laid out his treasure on the box top, equally portioning the spoils between us. Shame bubbled up inside me.

  Despite my growing guilt, my appetite was still healthy and I wolfed down the breakfast.

  “You know this area, huh?” I asked.

  He puffed out his small chest. “I know the whole quad like the back of my leg.”

  “Hand. You’re supposed to say, ‘…like the back of my hand’.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s the expression, dummy.”

  “You sound like Eve.”

  “Who’s she?”

  “My sister.”

  Warmth rushed to my face and I turned my head to hide my blush.

  “Where do you wanna go?”

  “Huh?”

  “You asked if I can find my way around.”

  “Oh, um, I need to go home; to Oldon.”

  His brow furrowed as he thought for a moment. “Yeah, I suppose I can show you the way. It’ll take us a couple of days.”

  “Two days? I got here in an hour by hover bike.”

  He sneered. “Do you have one now?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “The trip’s gonna take two days.”

  A smug smile crossed his face and he bit into an apple produced from his magic sack.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What do you want?”

  “Huh?”

  “Nobody helps. What do you want for showing me home?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t want nothin’.’’

  “Bullshit. You want something from me.”

  “I…I like spending time with you.”

  “Owen, how long is the trip to Oldon REALLY supposed to take?”

  He exhaled and lowered his gaze. “One day.”

  I continued to glare at him.

  He slumped his shoulders. “Okay, half a day.”

  I don’t know why, but I said, “I suppose a day of travel would be fine.”

  His face lit and he straightened.

  “I brought enough food.”

  “Are there any more apples? I’m still hungry.”

  He happily tossed me one and took another bite out of his.

  We exited and he lowered the grate in place. I dug into my pocket and panic seized me. I patted down my other pockets and frantically scanned the floor around me.

  “Did you lose something?”

  I didn’t reply. I opened the grating and crawled into the alcove, feeling the ground in the gloom. I scoured the matt
ress and turned over the blanket and pillow. Owen stood outside and watched. “Are you looking for this thing?”

  He held a small metal cylinder, about the size of a finger. Awkwardly, I climbed out and snatched the object from his hand.

  “I found that lying beside the bed when I got up. I was gonna ask you, but I forgot. Where did you find it?”

  I didn’t want to tell him.

  After Cable dropped me off to meet the client, I went up to the room. The bozo at the front desk gave me a dirty look, but never said anything. The hotel was not an especially high class establishment. The door was ajar when I arrived at the room. In the belief the customer waited inside for me, I waltzed right in to a scene I’ll never forget.

  On the floor lay a man in a pool of congealing blood. There was little doubt he was dead and I didn’t want to stick around to be accused of anything. To return without being paid, would place me in deep trouble. I worked up my nerve and searched the body. There was no money on him, so I tore the room apart. Eventually, I found his wallet and the metal tube, but nothing else of any value. I pocketed everything and ran out of there.

  “None of your business,” I said.

  “I wasn’t gonna take it. I can get lots of those things if I want.”

  “Where?”

  He pointed to the warehouse interior. “The soldiers keep a lot of them over there.”

  I turned the cylinder over in my hand. “What are they?”

  “I dunno, but I think they’re important.”

  I turned my attention to my prize.

  “Hey,” he said, “do you think they’re worth anything?”

  “Maybe.”

  “There’s a guy who can tell us. He’ll buy it from you. We could sell a bunch of them.” Owen’s voice rose with excitement.

  What he said made sense to me. Nobody would realize where these things came from, and if valuable, why shouldn’t we benefit? Skids would take the damned thing from me and do the same himself. This would be a chance for me to put a little scratch away for myself. I slid the object into my right pocket.

  “Seventy, thirty,” I said, pointing to me first.

  “Fifty, fifty or you can find your own way home.”

  I regarded the kid in a new light. He could agree to any kind of split with me and lead me into an ambush.