Chapter 14: Obtuse Musician

The World Device predicted all of this...

How long has it been since you set out on this journey? Four, maybe five months?

Ah...time flies, does it not? The time you spent travelling accumulated itself...the two weeks you spent getting from Merrysville to the Yuca Desert saw the passing of Christmas and the New Year...

…

When was the last time you were happy?

Have you ever been happy at all?

Your friends are always with you...it’s pleasant, but is it happiness?

The burden on your shoulders grows ever greater...

The...within...

There was a slight fog blanketing the general area of Youngtown, giving a strange, ephemeral appearance that upset Julian ever so subtly. His companions lagged behind him a few paces, obviously tired from the long walk they’d just had, although any of them would have been quick to confess that anything was better than the desert. Still, the place was rather unsettling.

A slight shuffling sound echoed through the forested town as Julian set down his pack and looked the place over. Out of all the places he’d seen so far, Youngtown was the one he knew the least about. As he slid his hand into his pocket and placed his other wrist on his forehead, wiping the sweat from his face with the back of his arm, he scanned the place with keen eyes, drinking in every possibly useful detail.

Peel had pulled down her yellow mechanic’s goggles over her head to block out the fog. While she did look very out-of-place as opposed to her surroundings, the action did make sense, considering that the goggled were fog-resistant and allowed her to see better than when she had them off. Still, the yellowish lenses and the thick leather strap that bound them around her head made her eyes look beady and irritated.

Joshua didn’t even notice the fog so much as the others; he was too busy conversing with his new friend, the monkey Kir. The latter would chatter happily, jumping from one side of the former’s head to the other, then finally coming to a rest on top of the human’s head, so as to better inspect the landscape that was laid out before him.

“Come on.” Came Julian’s voice, seemingly distant, although he was standing right there. The winding dirt road to Youngtown was then travelled in silence; after all, no one had anything to say, so why bother? Joshua and Kir were communicating wordlessly through a type of telepathy beyond anything Julian’s PSI could muster. Then again, he seemed to speak less and less every day, so Peel, who stared at the ground silently as they trod, had begun to stop trying to talk to him. He was like an oyster: what lies inside was protected by an impenetrable shield...

The afternoon was spent sitting in a desolate looking cafe on the outskirts of Youngtown while Julian scavenged for information. On what, he couldn’t be sure, but he felt that he’d know it if he found it. As he inspected a shelf full of road maps, fingertips caressing his chin, he couldn’t help but feel lost...not like he’d ever felt anything else since he set out on this stupid journey.

The boring afternoon was then concluded with an ever more boring check-in at the Youngtown Inn. The room wasn’t much, but it was enough: two beds, a couch, a bathroom and a window looking out over the nearby swamp, of all places. Julian, as was usually expected of him, offered to sleep on the couch, leaving Peel and Joshua to share the beds.

So, as evening set in, the three teenagers found themselves at a loss of words…mostly because there were none at all. Julian had flopped down on the couch and was lazily playing with a diminutive Aswer that he had conjured up from nowhere; Joshua and Kir were asleep on one of the beds; and Peel was sitting in the other bed by herself. She couldn’t get any sleep, though, and decided to stare absently at the ceiling. How had they gotten to this point? What was making everyone so quiet? Peel decided she wouldn’t take seeing her two friends quiet anymore and quietly stepped out of the room and onto the streets of Youngtown, now permeated by a very slight mist as the evening dew settled in.

Peel didn’t bother to look up from the dirt road, her eyes focused on a small rock that she was kicking around to entertain herself as she walked. Youngtown wasn’t very entertaining anyway; everyone had gone home by now, as was usual of a rural village like this. Her feet kicked up dust as she made her way to, well, nowhere really. She just needed to think.

“Seems you’ve got something on your mind, child.”

Peel stopped dead in her tracks and whirled around, staring the unknown speaker in the face. He was a docile-looking man dressed in a tattered, navy-blue suit, with a broad-rimmed hat on his head and a wooden cane. The rim of the hat covered his eyes, but there was a pleasant smile on his face.

“I…beg your pardon?” Peel was hesitant to engage the man, especially by herself at this hour. She hadn’t thought of bringing any of her equipment with her in the first place- after all, why should she have needed it? Still, there was something about the man that made her uneasy, so she kept her distance and repeated her query. “I beg your pardon?”

The man laughed, his deep voice booming even though he wasn’t yelling at all. “Don’t worry, child. I won’t hurt you.” His cane clicked on the ground as he walked over to Peel, then used the hilt of the cane to tip up his hat in one swift motion, revealing gray eyes. “I just saw…someone lost in her thoughts. Thought I could help you with that.” Peel cocked her head to the side. “Who are you?” she asked. Again the booming laugh filled the air. “No one special…just an old musician out for a walk, is all.”

The man’s cane thumped as he dropped it back onto the floor, resting both hands on it and looking at Peel. “So, tell me…you have trouble with a boy, yes?”

Peel didn’t know wether her companion knew what he was talking about or was simply trying to guess, but she was surprised nonetheless. “Yes. Sort of…no…I don’t know.” Her shoulders slumped and she turned away, giving the old man a little more free space. “I’m not sure what to think.”

Once again the dull click of the old man’s cane came to Peel’s ears until she could see the old man beside her, looking straight ahead. “The key to communication,” he said. “is conversation. Do you know who said that, child?”

“No.”

“Neither do I. And it’s wrong, anyway.” He admitted with a soft chuckle, his eyes fixed on the quickly-vanishing horizon. “You need to communicate on many levels…if you overlook one…well, I guess you know that already.” There was a slight sound of fabric against fabric as the man turned his head to look at Peel. “You need to show him how much you care…” he said. His face was still smiling, still exuming kindness like it was a few moments before, but all of a sudden there was an infinitesimal note of something else—was it cunning?—in his eyes. Peel didn’t notice at all, or rather noticed it and waved it off immediately. The old man was making sense…she needed to set things straight with Julian, wether he liked it or not. “Thank you,” she whispered, “thank you very much.” Before she turned around and sped off towards the hotel.

The old man chuckled softly to himself as he saw the girl go, his hat falling over his eyes again and his hands still resting on his cane. When she was out of earshot he turned his head and looked to the shadows. “The instruments,” he began. “have been chosen. The tempo is set.”

A lean figure walked out of the shadows. It was a young woman wearing strange-looking clothing: a silver tank-top with a short blue synthetic vest and white slacks with a black rope serving as a belt. The outfit brought out her vivacious curves and exposed a pierced bellybutton. Her short silver hair was done up in a ponytail, and two huge loops hung from her ears. A strange necklace bearing a silver locket with a strange engraving hung from her neck, letting the locket perch itself lightly on her rahter abundant cleavage. When she spoke she did so with a very weak germanic accent. “You have, one might say, a very strong inclination for musical speech, Earth Bluesman.” She commented freely as she stepped out of the shadows, her rather elaborate sneakers raising no dust from the ground. “Your taste in poetics goes beyond that of Volt Punker or Rapper Flamestart.”

“Punker and Flamestart are fools.” The man now known as Earth Bluesman turned to face the newcomer. Together the two looked like grandfather and granddaughter, although they both knew this was not the case. “Punker blundered into an easy defeat, and Flamestart…he lacked planning. No strategy…”

The female scoffed at Bluesman’s words and turned away, reaching into one of the many pockets of her vest and pulling out something. She spoke as she inspected it. “They both had their ideas…as I’m sure you do, Earth Bluesman.” Bluesman sighed. “Everyone has their secrets.” He said. “A secret melody we never sing.” The female laughed and placed the object back in her pocket, spinning around and pointing a finger at the old man. “Always the musiker…” she teased. “I would like to see you put any of this ‘planning’ or yours into practice.”

“You will see it soon enough.” He reassured. “…soon enough.”

***

Julian was half asleep when Peel perched herself over him and grabbed his arm, shaking it vigorously. “Julian, I need to talk to you.” Peel whispered, trying to hoist him up. “Come on, wake up!” Julian turned on his side and growled in his sleep. “It can wait until tomorrow.” He complained drowsily. This elicited a groan from Peel, who forced him up and nearly dragged him off of the couch. “No it can’t.” she said firmly. “We need to talk now.”

Peel led a rather confused, not to mention slightly irritated, Julian outside the hotel and over to a small bench nearby. Absolutely no one was outside, making it seem like the two teenagers were the only people who were ever there. As soon as they got there Peel plopped her unwilling companion down on the bench and sat down beside him, still holding his arm with her hand. As soon as she did so Julian threw his head back and stared straight up at the sky. “I don’t see the point of dragging me out here at midnight to look at the stars.” He grumbled. “We can see them perfectly from our room, you know.”

“That’s not the point.” Peel snapped back and tilted his head back up, so that he was now facing her. “I just think we need to clear some things up, that’s all.” Julian sighed, showing that he wasn’t prepared to deal with Peel’s incomprehensible outbursts just now. However, instead of showing it directly he lowered his voice to a whisper and tried to appease Peel. “Listen…whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”

Peel shifted her head to the side and let out a groan of exasperation. “You always say things like that!” she complained. “Don’t you know how frustrating it is to want to talk to you and not be able to because you always put it off until later?” Peel breathed, replenishing her lungs after the rather long sentence she had just produced. Her grip tightened on Julian’s arm and her own arm became tense. As Julian tried to release himself from Peel he also noticed that her breathing had become much faster. Soon enough he heard her choke and sniff, her head still turned away from him. “Peel…” he began, but there was no answer. A slight tinge of worry grew in the back of his mind and his free hand reached up to touch her face. “Peel, tell me what’s wrong…please.” His voice was bordering on frantic now, his hand trembling freely, eyes fixed on the back of Peel’s head. “Peel, come on…”

All of a sudden Peel whirled around to show that she wasn’t crying, but rather wearing a stern-looking face. “Hah! Now you know what it feels like!” she said, letting go of Julian’s arm. She stretched and leaned back on the bench, her eyes not daring to meet his. “You see?” she scolded. “That’s what I’ve been feeling for the past two months…and you’re not helping.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Julian countered calmly. “I’ve never cried like that in front of you.” Peel let out and audible hiss and turned away again. “You don’t have to cry. I can see that you’re feeling bad…but you won’t ever tell me what’s the matter.”

“You don’t have to worry about-”

Peel cut him off short. “That’s the point! I worry because I want to, not because I have to!” she turned swiftly and found herself facing Julian, her face close to his. “I care too much about you to see you like that!” Her voice lowered to a painful whisper and tears—genuine tears–began emmanating from her eyes. “Julian…I…”

Julian put a hand to her lips to silence her. “It’s all right.” He said. “Don’t cry.” Peel’s face twisted itself into a grimace and she let the tears come freely now, trickling down her face and dripping onto her shirt. Without warning she lunged forward and planted a kiss on Julian’s mouth, her soft lips crushing clumsily into his. After an awkward moment she pulled away and they both stared at each other, Julian pressing himself back against the bench and Peel leaning forward, her eyes glassy. Then, without a word, she shot up and ran back into the hotel, leaving Julian dazed and confused.

When Julian stepped into the room a few minutes later he found himself relieved to see Peel fast asleep in bed. It had taken her approximately two minutes to rush back up to their room and drift off; after all, she had seen a lot of emotion that night. He silently thanked his luck that she wasn’t awake, as he didn’t feel like talking to her anyway. Instead of pondering the matter further, though, he slumped back on the couch, remembering his exhaustion, and closed his eyes. But even then, there was something bothering him about what Peel had said…about him crying and not wanting help…

What if she was right?