Scat murmured his thanks as they stepped out the backside of the mall, the sharp afternoon light catching the dust in the air. Sam handed him the medicine without ceremony, her face calm, unreadable as always. She had covered the rest of the trade with the pharmacist, a quiet favor, but not a small one.
“Meet me at the market plaza tonight,” she said, slipping her hands into her coat pockets. “I could use your help with a little distraction… and maybe picking a few pockets.”
She paused, just long enough to let the next words carry weight. “I hope this medicine helps Tony.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Scat standing with the bottle in his hand.
Sam, Queen of the Gutter Rats, felt a flicker of irritation toward Scat, though she knew he wasn’t to blame. She hadn’t warned him what the pharmacist might demand in trade. The man was unpredictable, sometimes picky, other times needlessly cruel. Scat, unaware of the risks, had laid everything he owned on the counter: every last coin and a battered old pocket watch, his hands trembling slightly as he hoped it would be enough.
The Pharmacist
He called himself “The Pharmacist,” but he didn’t care about healing anyone. His concoctions were mostly fakes, cheap mixtures that did more harm than good. If you died taking his medicine, that was on you. All he cared about was making trades and scamming the desperate, those trying to save someone they loved, or just escape their pain for a while.
Scat was desperate to find medicine for Tony. The old mall was a ruin, collapsed ceilings, shattered glass, and the smell of rot hanging in the air. No one went there anymore, not unless they were out of options or out of their mind. People said only the desperate or the doomed walked through its doors. But Sam insisted it would be fine. They were going through the back way, a more direct route to the pharmacist.
We moved Tony from the basement up to the admin hallway. He is not doing well. His eye seems to be better, but his stomach is extremely bloated and painful to the touch. He isn’t holding any food done but we are insisting that he drink water. I honestly don’t know if this is doing any good or if it is doing harm, but I heard once that you shouldn’t let people get dehydrated. Marty, Gretchen and Cecelia at the main library
Marty, Gretchen and Cecilia have headed out to the main library to do some research on Tony’s condition. With any luck they will come back with some answers on what we should do to help him. In the meantime, the kids are taking turns sitting with Tony and trying to keep him comfortable.
I went to the market plaza today to see if I could find a pair of new shoes (old shoes). The ones I have are coming apart at the seams. I couldn’t find any I could fit my feet into. I guess I will wear these a little longer.
Xavier Boulder being yelled at by his father.While I was shopping, I overheard some people discussing the central Bobcats. They are causing trouble all over town. I am not usually afraid of anything, but the Hulk seriously worries me. He is so evil. People say he is that way because his father was always beating on him, especially if he lost a tournament. I don’t know if this is true or if it is just a rumor kids spread around to explain his meanness. I do know that he never seems to have remorse about his actions. He actually enjoys hurting people.
I Dreamt about being home again last night. I swear I could almost feel and smell the clean sheets. It felt like a weekend. One of those mornings when you had a great nights sleep. A familiar smell wakes you. My mom was in the kitchen making her famous biscuits. I miss those biscuits. I miss the strawberry jam. I don’t know what woke me from my dream but it was a let down when I realized it wasn’t real.
I take back the “I’m bored” thing. We held a meeting tonight to discuss what could be done about our missing fuel. The consensus was nothing. Asking for the fuel back wasn’t an option, taking the fuel back wasn’t an option, although two people who shall remain nameless thought, we should storm central and take it back. Can you say Matt and Jonas. This was voted down because of the possibility of casualties, on our side. We decided to install a security detail during the night hours. Everyone over the age of 12 would be required to keep watch at two-hour intervals. Our resources are few and we don’t need to be losing anything else. We have strength in numbers, and we can protect ourselves when necessary.
At the meeting we also discussed the up-and-coming festival. Like last year we plan to have a feast, music and games. The Journal club will be putting up fliers to announce the event to the community. Everyone is invited, except for central of course. With luck they won’t grace us with their presence at this year’s event.
There’s trouble in bear country.
Scat came running down the admin hall before sunup this morning yelling at the top of his lungs. “Get up, Get up. They took our fuel. They took our fuel. “
I jumped off the couch and tackled him in the hallway. “Ok, Ok, Ok, we get the point.” I yelled back.
By this time everyone residing in the admin hall was awake and standing in the hallway. Sleepy eyes everywhere and no one was in a very joyful mood.
Scat tried to squirm out of my hold. “Tony, …Tony’s hurt. They beat him up.”
Tony is our engineer. He lives in the basement. He has been my friend (sort of) since before the world turned upside down. We didn’t run in the same circles, but we had several classes together. He always asked my opinions on homework assignments. I used to wish he would ask me out on a date. Unfortunately, he was dating a cheerleader. He isn’t very socialable these days, but he is very good at fixing and maintaining whatever we break.
I ordered Scat to stay put in the admin hallway and grabbed some muscle. When I say muscle, I am referring to Matt and Jonas. We headed toward the basement.
The basement was a mess, and Tony was slumped against the far wall holding his stomach, bleeding from his head, and his left eye was swollen shut. Tony made an attempt to open his good eye as soon as he heard us coming. He adjusted the way he was leaning against the wall and let out a cry of pain.
“I tried to reason with them.” Tony spit out a mouth full of blood. “They took all of our fuel. Oh Geez! I hurt.”
Tony said it was Central. I honestly was not surprised. They have been giving us trouble for ages.
The Central Bobcats were from the East end of Lafayette Blvd we lived on the west. We were rivals in football, basketball and volleyball. Our bands competed against each other in competitions before the world was turned upside down. The big difference between central and us is that we are not a bunch of thieves and bullies. The leader of the Central bobcats is a former high school wrestling champ. He is mean and leads by fear and regularly has his goons beat up people for fun. The kids call him the hulk after the comic book character. He doesn’t barter for what he needs. He has his goons take what he wants.
The Scat holding a first aid kitMatt and I leaned over to help Tony onto his cot. I told Tony he shouldn’t have tried to stop central from taking what they wanted. Just then, Scat ran up behind me holding a first aid kit.
Scat is such a tiny little guy. I yelled at him for leaving the admin hallway. He gets into more trouble.
Scat glared back at me. “Tony didn’t try to stop them. They beat him up afterwards.”
I looked at Tony and he just nodded in agreement.
At that moment, Matt and Jonas both blew a gasket and started ranting a raving about getting even. Love these guys but they get hot under the collar fast and don’t always think things thru…
We have some big guys in Bear Country, but we are not a match for the goons at Central.
