The Swimmer and the Demon Worshipper

[Chase]

This is a continuation of a story, please read previous post before this one.


The Swimmer and the Demon Worshipper, chapters 3 - 4, by Chase TheQueerXX

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Chapter 3

 

The horse pulled us around the walled town and up a mountain that was parallel to the hill we came down. The trail went up at an angle from the mountain being too steep.  I don’t think cars could have gone straight up it, never mind a horse-drawn cart. We reached the top where Pasha stopped to let the horse rest. He helped the horse drink by scooping water from a spring with a bowl while I gazed at the hills before us.

            There were homes that dotted the canyons and valleys below but they were too far to make out any details. Vegetation, both normal and alien, covered the slopes but some of the mountains were too rocky to support life. Giant creatures were flying in the sky that looked more like sea creatures than birds. A megalithic statue of a demonic gargoyle sat atop one of the lifeless stone mountains.

            We got back in the wagon and the horse pulled us down into the lower hills. Pasha stayed quiet. I didn’t bother trying to make small talk with him. I already made him cry. I mean, I guess he wasn’t delusional after all. Still, thinking of him as a loser in an alien costume made him more ”¦ I wasn’t quite sure. Approachable, maybe. Maybe I just thought it was cute.

            Something poked me in the cheek. It was the right fox ear of Pasha’s mask.  I flinched and moved my head over. Pasha’s head fell on my shoulder. He was leaning on me.

            What the heck, was he snuggling with me? I know he said he was attracted to me when I caught him checking me out, but he called me a demented fool so many times I didn’t think he actually wanted me. This was so sudden. Oh God, well, I guess I could ”“

            Phlegm filled snoring snorted out of his mask and into my ears. Nope, he wasn’t snuggling with me, at least not on purpose. He just fell asleep. And he looked cute asleep.

            I yawned. I was tired too. It was nighttime when my teammates left me locked in that tunnel, and I didn’t have any sleep since then. Well, supposedly weeks went by, but it only felt like a day to me. Still, it was long enough. It was still too sunny outside though. I patted Pasha on his shoulder. “Pasha, Pasha, wake up. Pasha, Pasha are you okay?” He still kept sleeping. “Pasha? Posh Posh? Poshey Washy? Earth to Pasha? Pasha!”

            Pasha stopped snoring and sat up. “Huh? What?” He grabbed the reigns. “Are we under attack?”

            “No. You just fell asleep.”

            “Was that a problem?” he asked. “I’ve been up since the second half of last nightfall.”

            “No no no. No problem. You looked ”¦ like you needed it. You can go back to sleep. I need sleep too. I was just wondering if you could tell me the time and date.”

            “Sure,” said Pasha. “It’s the sixty-seventh day of Reznudkulu, I think. One of the upper sixties. Pretty sure it’s a Mnthglu. Let me check my watch.” He pulled out a pocket watch. It had alien runes for numbers. The hour hand was pointed slightly above the three o’clock position. “Uh oh, it’s already the closing hour of the first half day. We need to get to bed if we’re going to get any work done in the last half.”

            My jaw dropped. Oh God. I miss dismissing everything he said as nonsense. Please just let me return to Earth already. I’ll even quit the swim team if I have to. Just let me return. I’ll do anything. Is it because I’m gay? Do I seriously have to give that up? How is that even possible?

            Pasha waved his hand in front of my face. “Noah? Are you alright?”

            “Huh? Oh, sorry, I spaced out for a second. I just, um ”¦ well, you know, I don’t know anything about ”¦ about this world, or planet, or dimension, or, whatever.” I rubbed my eyes and sighed. “I uh ”“”

            “It’s alright Noah. You don’t have to be ashamed. Some people are just kissed by Urukon. I’ll go to church and ask the benevolent demons to bless you.”

            “Thanks Pasha.” I hugged him.

            “Noah! What are you doing?”

            “I’m hugging you, silly.”

            “But why are you hugging me?”

            “Because ”“”

            Over Pasha’s shoulder, I saw a masked woman lying in the shade beneath the tentacles of an alien tree that looked like a giant sea anemone. Her mask was different than Pasha’s. It had blue and red tones with a fish design to it. Gills stuck out from the outside and alien runes were painted in a scaly pattern. It was still mouthless like Pasha’s, but unlike the solid black eyes on his, hers had large, tired blue eyes painted on it.

            “Pasha, who’s that?”

            “Who?”

            I unwrapped my arms and pointed behind us. “Oh,” said Pasha, “that’s Mrs. Washington. She’s a blind beggar. Normally I’d stop to give her a coin, but it’s late so she’s probably sleeping. Bszldenumrtu bless her.”

We passed by farms and houses. Some of the houses looked like cozy log cabins, but most of them looked like shacks. All of the windows were boarded up. Cows, pigs and goats slept under shaded huts. The pastures cleared and we were back in an alien woodland.

The wagon came to a stop. We were at a thatched roof house that was hidden in a grove of leafy coral trees. Alien runes and hieroglyphs were painted on the door and walls. “Is this your house?” I asked. “It looks ”¦ cute. Where do we put the horse?”

Pasha put his hands on his masked. “Oh no.”

The door of the house opened. A girl our age in the female version of what I was wearing came out. She had an angry look on her face. Her brown braided pigtails swayed back and forth as she stomped towards us. “Poshey! Who in Vlhundrekon is this?”

            Pasha twiddled his fingers. The girl went to my side of the wagon and glared straight into my eyes. Pasha looked away from both of us while he twiddled his fingers and said, “Oh, um, uh, Orla, this is Noah. Noah, this is my, um, friend, Orla.”

            “You’re his friend?” I asked. Pasha didn’t strike me as the type to have friends.

            Orla grimaced and hissed through her teeth, “At this point, I’m more like his nanny. Why are you here?”

            “Uh, well, um ”¦”

            “I found him,” said Pasha.

            “Oh! You found him!” Orla stretched a fake smile across her face. “So that’s why you were late and had me worried sick about you.”

            “Orla, please. Noah didn’t slow me down. Something, something happened on the second half of yesternight. It steered me off course. That’s why I’m late.”

            Orla’s anger disappeared. Worry overtook her. “What happened?”

            “I, I didn’t sleep at all since the second half of yesternight. I really need to go to sleep so I can prep for the nightfall. Please just take Betsy back to your farm and send your parents my regards.”

            “You’re telling me what happened first.”

            “Fine. I’ll tell you inside. Noah, please carry everything in the wagon inside the house. Just, put it near the fireplace.”

            Pasha hopped off the wagon and went inside with Orla. In the back there was just a few bags. I grabbed all of them in one hand and carried them inside.

            Inside, there wasn’t a hint of electricity. Pasha and Orla were in a room on the other side that had nothing but a fur blanket bed. Pasha was sitting on it with his head down like Orla was his mom scolding him. Orla slammed the bedroom door shut as soon as I entered.

            There were two metal fireplaces in the house. I went to one but noticed it was actually a wood stove for cooking. I turned around and a sack of garlic that hung from a ceiling joist hit me in the face. I walked across the small house to the fireplace and dropped the bag down. I tiptoed to the outside of the bedroom and put my ear to the door.

            “Anyone can pretend to be a demented fool,” said the voice of Orla. “Ooh, look at me, I like to swim in vile water. And I’m a pig’s wife too! See, I can do it better than him. He’s up to no good.”

            “But he was wet when I found him,” said the voice of Pasha. “He was in nothing but this queer breechcloth. Oh Bszldenumrtu mercy! You should have seen him.”

            “Wow, are you sure you’re not the fool? Hmm, if I wanted to set up a trap for a cursed boy who fancies the lads, how should I bait him?”

            “But why would anyone care for that? The new gods command tolerance.”

            “Look at what anyone has already done to you.”

            “Orla, please, I just want to go to bed. I’m tired and we both need to prep for nightfall. If you truly do not trust this queer outsider, you may rest at my house.”

            “I’m not sharing a single blanket with the fool and I doubt a dandy lad with hands as smooth as his would be content sleeping on the floor.”

            “You may sleep on the bed of my parents.”

            “But Poshey, you don’t even sleep in it.”

            Pasha made a loud groan that made it through the door. “I’ll make an exception.”

            Floorboards creaked. I ran as fast as I could on my tiptoes to the fireplace. The bedroom door opened. I faced them and said “All inside!”

            “Thanks,” said Pasha. “Could you please unhook Betsy from the wagon and tie her up in the shade with food and water?”

            I rubbed the back of my head and gave a soft laugh of embarrassment. “Sorry Poshey, I think you already know I’m not good with horses.”

            Orla growled. “I’ll do it.” She marched towards the door. “I trust a fool can at least board the windows.”

            Pasha pointed to the bedroom he and Orla had just talked in. “Noah, that’s my parents’ room. Well, it was my parents’ room. Orla is going to sleep there tonight.” He pointed to a latter that led to a small boarded area over the ceiling joists. From being at the eaves of the ceiling, there wasn’t even room to stand. “That’s where I normally sleep. I’m told I snore, so I apologize in advance.” He climbed up the ladder and crawled into the crawlspace. He poked his masked head out. “Noah, I hope it doesn’t bother you if I take my mask off tonight. I sleep more comfortably with it off.”

            I smiled. Thank God he was finally going to take it off. “Not a problem at all.”

            “Thanks. It’s really dark up here, but I won’t hang up my mask until you finish boarding up, just in case. It’s easier when you do the window by the fireplace last. It’s the easiest to get to the ladder in the dark. And lock them too, thanks.”

            You’ve got to be kidding me.

I went to the windowsills. They each had wooden boards that needed to be closed, with metal latches to securely hold them in place. There weren’t many, and it got darker with each one shut. Orla came in by the time I had already boarded the window in Pasha’s parent’s room. She left the door open, sat down on the bed, and glared at me. I was starting to wish she had to wear a mask to cover that scowl of hers.

            I went to the last window by the fireplace. I boarded it and it became pitch black. I felt around with my hands for the locks and snapped them in place. Now I just need to find the latter.

            I windmilled my arms around in the dark until I found the ladder. Pretty sure Orla was still exactly where I last saw her, glaring into the darkness as if she could still see me. I climbed up the ladder. I came to the top and felt unsteady. A hand I couldn’t see grabbed my wrist and pulled me forward. I fell on top of Pasha.

            It might be too dark to see what was under the mask, but for the first time, I felt his breath on my face. My hands felt his naked arms. He must have stripped his pullover frock off. I moved my hands and they brushed into a thin linen undershirt. I was feeling his body, but I should feel his face. Feel to see what it was he was hiding. Not the curse, but everything else. I hovered my hands over his breath, and stopped. Maybe I should get his permission first.

            Pasha yawned. “Goodnight Noah. May the Great Krstgudgn bless your dreams.”

            I rolled off him. “Goodnight Poshey. Um, may the great curst guh ”“ um, sweet dreams.”

            Pasha let out a snore. He must be a fast sleeper. He did say he didn’t sleep since a gobbity guck long time ago. I’m not sure why he snores though, is that even healthy? I yawned. My hand touched a pillow as it stretched back. I ran my hand around Pasha’s head, it was on a blanket but not a pillow. I slipped a pillow under his head. The snoring stopped.

            Did I wake him up? He stayed quiet. I guess that did the trick. I closed my eyes.

 

Chapter 4

 

I woke up on my side with my foot pressed against the edge of the ceiling. Pasha was still asleep next to me. I couldn’t believe I actually slept next to a guy who’s gay. Or is he bi or something? I don’t know. Orla definitely wasn’t his girlfriend, at least I hoped not.

            Pasha rolled over. His nose poked me in the armpit. He moved his arms over me. I can’t take this anymore. I have to at least feel what’s been under that mask. I turned him over and slapped my hands onto his face.

            “Huh? Noah? What are you doing?”

            I moved my hands up and down his face. My hands passed over zits and pimples, but no deep scars or missing nose. The shape of his jawline, cheekbones, and nose all felt normal. I put my fingers in his mouth. He had no missing teeth.

Pasha bit my fingers.

“Owe!” I pulled my fingers out of his mouth as soon as he unclamped his teeth. Oh God, I hope he doesn’t get mad or cries again, especially with Orla downstairs.

            “Good Jruckthokpk Noah, you are most queer. The queerest fellow I have ever met. What were you doing?”

            “Sorry Pasha.” I sat up and my head hit the ceiling. “Owe!” I laid back down. “I just wanted to feel your face because you don’t let me see it. Please don’t be upset. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

            “Anything?” said Pasha. “Could I, maybe, because you touched my face, could I ”¦ touch the muscles on your stomach?”

            I laughed. “Sure Poshey, you can touch my abs anytime you want.”

            “Oh Urukon take me no!” rang the voice of Orla. The bristles of a broom pricked into me. Was she seriously poking me with a broom? What the fuck. “They’ll be no hanky panky after you two slept in. I reckon it’s already the middle of the last half day.”

            “Stop poking me with that thing!”

            “Orla,” said Pasha, “you might damage my mask. Please stop.”

            I heard Orla sigh, followed by a knock from her dropping the broomstick. The ladder creaked as she climbed down. “I’m at a window now,” she yelled, “tell me when you have your mask on.”

            Pasha crawled away from me. Knocking came from his side of the ceiling, followed by a knock from his mask. My ears tuned in and picked up the brushing of his hair as he strapped it on. “It’s on!”

            There was a creak as Orla opened a window. The loft grew from pitch black to dim as Orla opened the windows down stairs. Pasha’s silly cat eared figure came into focus. I followed him down the ladder.

            I did my morning stretches. Orla gave me a funny look. Pasha stared at me. I stretched my back and said, “So, do we have any food in this cottage or what?”

            “We have eggs,” said Orla, “from my farm. That I gave to Pasha.”

            “Awww,” I said in a baby voice, “come on now Orla. Can I have some pleeezzz?”

            “Fine,” said Orla, “but you better earn them.”

            I laughed. “I’ll earn them.”

            Pasha made breakfast while Orla went outside to take care of Betsy. I sat on a rocking chair that was at a table and rocked. This wasn’t so bad. I don’t know how I’m going to get the hell out of this crazy place, but I can kind of see myself living in a cottage with an adorkable nerd. Once I can get Poshey to take off his mask and get crabby Orla to calm down, maybe it’ll be like living in the good old days.

            Pasha set a plate of eggs in front of me. “Eat up,” he said, “you will need the nutrition. I am sure Orla’s father will have much work for you on the farm.”

            I stopped rocking. “Wait, what? I’m going to be working on a farm? Orla’s farm?”

“See,” said Orla. She marched back inside and sat down at the table. “I knew his hands were too pretty for farm work. I reckon he came from a rich family in New Dormcourt. They must have disowned him for being a fool.”

            “Orla,” said Pasha, “please, that was most cruel of you. I am sure your father will find many uses from him thanks to his muscles. He can wear gloves to protect his hands.”

            I waved my hands. “Woe woe woe! Hold up. Why do I need to work on a farm?”

            “Noah,” said Pasha, “I’m sorry, but I haven’t been making much money ever since ”¦ I’m just not making much money trading right now. If I can rebuild my family’s business back to what it once was, I promise I’ll support you better, but until then ”“”

            Orla banged her fist on the table. “Pasha Voskoboynikov! You do not owe this fool anything.”

            “It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll, I’ll work on the farm today, okay?”

            “Farm work is not a fool’s work!” hollered Orla.

Pasha moaned. “Orla, please, just, please ”¦” He sounded like he was about to cry.

            “Alright!” said Orla. “I suppose he is more queer than fool. Bszldenumrtu knows there’s plenty of queer farmers.”

            Pasha brought a plate for him and Orla over. He sat down, forked a piece from his plate, slightly lifted his mask, then pulled it back down. He took his plate into his parent’s bedroom and shut the door. Orla and I ate together in awkward silence.

 

”¦

 

After we finished eating, Pasha had me load the bags back on the wagon. He offered to teach me how to strap Betsy in, but I told him no. I mean, that horse was so huge it could crack heads with a single step from its hooves! As Pasha and Orla strapped the horse in, I bit my lip every time Pasha got in a position he could get trampled in, and got my hopes up every time it was Orla.

            The two demon worshippers walked out of the grove that hid Pasha’s house, clapping their hands, clicking their tongues, and yelling typical horse commands like “yah” and “ho.” Betsy followed them with nobody in the wagon.

            “Woe,” I said, “why aren’t we riding in the wagon?”

            “Don’t be both a fool and lazy,” said Orla.

            “Noah,” said Pasha, “horses can die if overworked.”

“I know that.” I ran after them. Maybe I was sent here to show these people technology. They won’t be calling me a fool when I invent the truck and put Betsy in retirement.

            We left the woods. There were a lot more houses and farms that were visible from afar. Mountain high buttes towered into the sky. The ledges of the buttes were mostly green with stripes of purple and blue in them. In-between the buttes and mesas were open fields of lemon colored grass.

            A flying fish thing swooped down at my head. It was two feet long and slender. It didn’t make any noise other than the swooshing of its long gliding gills. I ran circles around the wagon trying to get away from it but it kept aiming its six-eyed suction cup mouthed face at me. Orla laughed.

            “It’s not funny!” I said. “Get it away from me!” I kicked up green sand from the road.  The sand got in its eyes and it flew off.

            “Noah,” said Pasha, “it’s just a flying catfish. If you ignore them, they’ll fly away.”

            “That thing was going for my head.”

            Orla laughed. “Oh, this is rich. Maybe we did need a fool to spice things up around here.”

            “Oh fuck off. Flying catfish? Why can’t you guys have an easy name for everything else? How am I supposed to remember these stupid demon names like kuh err stu something and buh stuh zull gobbity guck? They can all suck my balls.”

            Pasha came to a halt. Betsy and Orla did right after.

Pasha stared at me. Both Orla and even Betsy stared at me with wide eyes. “Noah,” said Pasha, “it is alright if you cannot pronounce the sacred names of the benevolent demons. It is even alright if have doubt and disbelief, but please do not insult them like that.” Pasha put his hands in a triangle and chanted, “Klhanu jrtanu habgutr wurrah. Klhanu jrtanu habgutr wurrah. Klhanu ”¦”

Orla stomped on my foot. She whispered in my ear, “Watch it! He’s very religious.”

Pasha continued chanting, “Klhanu jrtanu habgutr wurrah ”¦”

“I, um, see that.” I waved my hands at Pasha. “Okay Pasha! I get it! I’m sorry! Um, I’ll just call them demons for now on, okay? Uh, all hail the demons, yay!”

            We went back to walking down the road. Farmers were busy working as we walked by. Some of them put their hands in a triangle as we walked by them, which Pasha and Orla were quick to flash back. Others stuck their thumb at Pasha between their index and middle finger and then made a downward devil-horn gesture, which Pasha and Orla ignored.

            We came to a building that looked like it was jumbled together from multiple log cabins, stone houses, and cottages. A sign above the front entrance read: THE GREEN ROCK SPIRE TRADING POST

             “Noah,” said Pasha, “maybe you should stay inside. I think Orla and I can carry the goods inside. Just keep Betsy from wondering off.”

            “Poshey, what part about I’m not good with horses ”“”

            “Ugh,” grunted Orla, “just carry his bags and keep your mouth shut, then.”

            Pasha climbed in the wagon and struggled with pulling the bags out. It was cute watching him struggle. With one fell swoop, I picked all of them up. Pasha blushed. “Thanks Noah.”

            Orla rolled her eyes. “For the love of Jruckthokpk.”

            I followed Pasha inside the store and set the bags on the front counter. He waited at the desk and I explored the aisles. There were shelves filled with candles, lanterns, torches, and small pieces of burn-ready sticks. Pickled vegetables in glass jars were plenty. The meat hung from a wooden beam, unrefrigerated and dripping blood on saw dust. Some of the meat was chicken and red meat, while some of the carcasses came from slimy or scaly alien creatures. I went to get a closer look at a pig-sized carcass. It had the body of an eel, the legs of a frog, and the face of a spider.

            There wasn’t a single piece of clothing on the shelves I’d wear in high school. Most of the men’s clothes were effeminate Medieval looking tunics, rugged frontier pullovers, or dorky Victorian era suits.

The jewelry counter had crystals, orbs, and chunks of a rock that had a circuit board pattern to them. There was a tiara with a black crystal that had the same dotted rune that Pasha’s mask had on the forehead. I touched it.

            My whole body vibrated. I was being shocked. I was being shocked but I couldn’t let go. It was painful, my fingers were burning. A squealing gargling voice filled my head: “Hrzgut jhtar urtegm bkraka klhanu jrtanu habgutr wurrah thulthdignagon”“”

            My fingers slipped off the tiara. I put my fingers in my mouth and licked them. They were so hot. I looked around me. Nobody noticed I had gotten shocked or acted like they heard what I just heard. Pasha was still at the counter, not facing me. What the heck just happened? Was that a demon voice? Something else? I went to Pasha and tapped him on the shoulders. “Poshey! I just touched this crown thing and ”“”

            An Asian man came to counter. “Welcome back Mr. Voskoboynikov.” He put his hands in a triangle.

Pasha triangled back. “Good half day, Mr. Yang.”

            “Wow,” I said, “I didn’t know there were Asians living in Dormcourt back then.”

            Mr. Yang gave me a funny look and asked, “Who is this Thulthdignagon child with a dandy haircut and why does he speak so queerly?”

            “I apologize,” said Pasha. “He was a companion I found on the road. He has been disowned by his people. He is not a threat.”

            “We should still discuss business without him,” said Mr. Yang.

            “I wasn’t planning on troubling him with it,” said Pasha. “Noah, me and Mr. Yang are going to have a private business meeting. You can wait here and pick out a treat if you like.”

            My jaw dropped in embarrassment. Pick out a treat? That’s something parents’ say to their kids when they try to get them to behave in the supermarket.

            Pasha struggled with carrying the bags I brought in. Mr. Yang took them from him with no struggle and led him to a private room. Well, at least Poshey needs my muscles, and wants them.

            I went to the candy counter. None of it looked tasty, and in a world with flying six-eyed fish things, I don’t think I want to know what any of it was made of. There was still no one else in the shop. I needed more answers. I snuck to the door Pasha and Mr. Yang went in and put my ear to the door.

            “I can’t believe you didn’t lose this to the highwaymen,” said the voice of Mr. Yang.

            “Hiding these kinds of things in unsuspecting places was the first thing my mama and papa taught me,” said the voice of Pasha.

            There was a clunk. Mr. Yang’s voice said “I’ll give you all of these.”

            “There are four less than last time.”

            “These things have gone up in price ever since the wraiths took the Blankenhorns.”

            “They only took one of the sons,” said Pasha.

            “Blankenhorn only had one son, and that son only had daughters. Them blessed folk ain’t like us. They don’t teach their girls the family trade. Now old man Blankenhorn has finally gone senile, leaving the Cronisters as the only gunsmiths left. I’m sure your mama and papa taught you the concept of a monopoly.”

            “This complicates things,” said Pasha, “these here are beautifully crafted, but I am sure the Cronisters will go down in quality.”

            “Not with them wraiths out there they won’t. Maybe they’ll be less fancy, but I reckon as long as they’d rather keep us ”¦ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be morbid. Pasha, you know I believe in what we’re doing. How about I ”“”

            Something whacked me in the head. I bit my tongue trying to stop myself from screaming. I turned around. There was a mustached old man behind me with a cane. “Being nosey are we?”

            “Owe,” I groaned through my teeth. “It’s just my friend in there. It’s not like ”“”

            The old man whacked me with his cane again. I ran away from him and got a few more whacks from the cane. I ran out of the trading post and went to the wagon.

            Orla was sitting on the wagon resting her head on her hands. “What’s up with you?”

            I didn’t answer her. I sat in the back and waited for Pasha to come out. He came out a few minutes later with Mr. Yang carrying what looked like a heavy sack. “Noah,” said Pasha, “we could use your help.”

            I helped Mr. Yang carry the heavy sack into the wagon. The outside of the bag felt like it was filled with the same clothes I had carried in. However, there were was the unmistakable stiffness of guns that were felt when I squeezed through the clothes hard enough. I ran my hands up and down the bag making out the shapes of the guns. From behind me, Mr. Yang said, “Are you sure you can trust this fellow?”

            “Nope,” said Orla.

            “I think he will be a good friend,” said Pasha.

            I turned around and gave a fake laugh. “Ha ha! Yep! Forget will! I already am!” I ran to Pasha, slung my arm around his neck, and tousled his hair. “Yep! Friends friends!” I stretched a wide, fake smile across my face.

            Mr. Yang raised his eyebrow. “Uhh, I ”¦ see that.” He walked back inside his shop.

            I kept tousling Pasha’s hair while faking a smile. It was all I could do to hold back my shock. I’ve seen guns before, but some kid who was still just a teenager trading them sounded sketchy as hell. Orla just kept staring at me with a perplexed look while Pasha stayed choked in my arm.

            “Well looky here,” said a male voice, “looks like my kitty found himself a new owner.”

            I stopped rubbing my hand on Pasha’s hair and unhooked his neck. I turned around. There was a guy our age in a raccoon-tailed hat.

“Oh, let me guess,” I said, “you’re one of Pasha’s bullies?”

            “Noah,” said Pasha, “please, we have work to do.”

            The guy with the raccoon hat laughed. He had missing teeth and looked like such a redneck it wasn’t even funny. “What in cursed stuck-ull-ont-um do you mean by bullies? I suppose it is a bully day today, a bully day to play with a cursed cat.”

            “I meant you must be one of his tormenters who beats him up.”

            He laughed again. “How’d you know?”

            “Noah,” said Pasha, “I never told you about Mr. Samuelson.”

I put one hand on Pasha’s shoulder and pointed at Samuelson with my other hand. “Fuck no Poshey! He’s our age. Don’t call him mister anything.”

            “Cursed cats should show respect for their betters,” said Samuelson.

            “How about Mr. toothless fuckface?” I said.

            “Noah,” said Orla, “we have work to do. Now’s not the time for wake snakes.”

            “Too late,” said Samuelson. He came marching towards me. I pushed Pasha back and walked towards Samuelson. He pushed me in the chest. I punched him straight in the face. “That’s it,” he growled. His fist came towards my face. I whacked it out of the way. He jumped on me and we fell to the ground. We rolled around in the green sand trying to punch each other. His breath was rancid. At least he wasn’t a trained wrestler like Scott. Strength wise, we were evenly matched.

            There was a loud gun shot. We jumped off each other and stood up. In the doorway of the trading post was Mr. Yang with a shotgun. He fired another warning shot in the air. It popped my ears. “They’ll be no scuffles in front of my store,” he said. “You boys go do your work before nightfall. Go on, get.”

            Samuelson dusted himself off and walked backwards away from me. He pointed at me. “You’re lucky it’s the last half day or I’d have given you a whoopin! I hope his mask slips and curses you.”

            “Fuck off loser. Why do you even pick on Pasha if you think all it takes for him to kill you is showing you his face?”

            “Oh buzzle-dennem-ert-tooz balls, he’d never do that cuz he knows he’d be sentenced to death.”

            “Oh yeah,” I said, “well what if I show you his face.” I grabbed Pasha, held him in front of me, and put my hand to his mask.

            “Noah!” screamed Orla, “no!”

            “Good demons you’re a mad man!” said Samuelson. He pointed his thumb through his fingers and made a downward devil horn sign. He ran away from us. “A mad man!”

            “I sure showed him,” I said.

            Pasha and Orla were both quiet. An awkward moment of silence passed by. Orla pulled out a pocket watch, checked the time, and said “We need to get moving. Pasha, are you okay?”

            Pasha didn’t say anything. I patted him on the shoulder. “Pasha? Are you okay?” He stayed quiet.

            “Pasha,” said Orla, “why don’t you ride in the back of the wagon to protect your inventory.” Pasha climbed into the back of the shaded wagon and laid down, out of sight. Orla walked down the road and Betsy followed her.

            I followed the wagon at the rear. I couldn’t see him. He staid lying down. I couldn’t hear any sounds he might be making because of the rattling of the wagon. We came to a wooden fence. Orla swung the door open, let the wagon pass through, and swung it shut before I could enter. I climbed over the wooden posts and kept following her, pretending it didn’t happen.

            Orla’s farmhouse was a lot larger than Pasha’s cottage, but it certainly wasn’t fancy like the Victorians under the dome back in the Valley of Thulthdignagon. It was two stories plus a small lookout in the middle of the roof. The walls were unpainted wood.

            The wooden fencing wrapped around the fields of yellow grass and hooked into the ledges of a green mesa. There was a large barn that was wide open. Horses grazed outside ”“ and there was nothing stopping them from stepping on me. A horse galloped towards me. I ran around to the other side of the wagon.

            “Um, hey, Orla, why are your horses so big?”

            “We just breed draft horses,” said Orla. “We never had any luck with smaller riding ones. Jruckthokpk blessed us, because ours are the only drafts that can live off the Vlhundrekon brush. In fact, it’s even hard to come by riding horses that can live off the brush in the wild. We carefully guard our blessing, and only sell geldings and the ones that can only eat oats and hay.”

            “What’s a gelding?”

            “A castrated horse.”

            “Jesus Christ! You cut horses balls off?”

            “Great demons you talk so queerly. What does Jesus Christ mean?”

            “Um, I don’t know either.”

            “Maybe you are more fool than queer.”

            A stalky brown-haired man with sideburns came out of the house and signaled a triangle from the front porch. I triangled back. Hopefully it won’t be yet another thing that I get wrong. Orla’s father, great, this’ll be fun.

            “Da,” said Orla, “we have returned. I apologize if I worried you. I spent the sleeping hours in Pasha’s cottage. This fellow here calls himself Noah. He’s a queer talking fool who speaks in sheer nonsense, but Pasha thinks he may be fit for farm work.”

            Orla’s father came over to me and looked me up and down. He grabbed my arm and measured my biceps with his fingers. “Very well. We’ll see what he can do. Lad, you may call me Mr. O’Connor.”

            Pasha crawled out of the wagon and triangled Mr. O’Connor. “Uncle,” said Pasha, “I apologize for my lateness. We should discuss some recent developments in our partnership. I will need your help carrying the inventory inside.”

            “I’ll carry it myself. Go inside and eat.”

Pasha pulled out a pair of leather gloves from his purse and handed them to me. “Here Noah. I got these from the trading post. They’ll protect your hands.” He walked inside the house.

Mr. O’Connor grabbed the bag of concealed guns and went to the door. “Orla, I’ll leave you in charge of Noah. I trust you can handle him. We have much work to do.” He went inside and shut the door.

            Orla’s in charge of me? Fuck my life. “Did Pasha call your dad ”˜uncle?’ So are you two cousins?”

            “Not by blood, we’re just close. Now come with me.”

            I followed her to the barn. Thankfully none of the horses were inside it. The air from all of the straw and hay was suffocating. She opened one of the stalls. It was covered in horse crap. “Let me guess,” I said, “you want me to clean out the horse shit?”

            Orla put her hands to her lips and made a fake gasp. “Oh no! Are the dandies in New Dormcourt too clean for that? I’ve been shoveling manure my whole life, that must be why I could never be a lady.”

            “Are there any other jobs I can do?”

            “Can you give the horses a bath?”

            “Fuck no!”

            “Then become a beggar,” said Orla. She grabbed a shovel that hung from the nails of a wooden beam. She waved it in front of my face and then spiked it into the pile of horse manure. “Become a beggar, and beg everyone else except Pasha. So help me Bszldenumrtu, I’ll scowl all of Vlhundrekon to find a better man-fancying lad than you.”

            “Why are you so jealous? Does your cult have arranged marriages and you’re arranged to marry him or something? Is that why your family has been helping him out so much?”

            “We’re not betrothed and it’s none of your business why we help him.”

            “Forget it,” I said. “Just, just leave me alone and I’ll shovel this fucking horse shit. Where do I put it?”

            Orla pointed to a wagon that was parked in front of an opening. I put on the gloves Pasha gave me, took a shovel full, and carried it to the wagon. When I cam back to the stall, Orla had moved a wheelbarrow in front of it and left me. I went to work.


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To be continued