An Angel's Hell - Chapter Three
Neither Jill or Loren gets paid today.
Fiona Donoghoue- "Thank you for the suggestion I will look up the book =)."
After my usual daily pickings of five hundred peaches, I head towards the main center where the Prospects' workers throw the peaches into a large funnel like machine. The machine swallows the fruit then posts the number onto a large screen above the large wooden desk that no one except the workers are allowed to cross.
"Do you think if we threw their brains in it would read back the two brain cells they have?" Jill spits sarcastically under her breath as she pushes a large cart that carries her bags of peaches.
Obviously we can not carry all the peaches by hand so they issue us carts at the beginning of every year. We are to keep track of them and take care of them. If the cart is ruined, no matter how, we are expected to carry them anyways. There was a man whose cart was destroyed when a guard pushed a 'criminal' into it. The man was outraged and demanded a new one. Unfortunately the guard charged him with disorderly conduct and sent him off for court. The man was never seen again.
"Please, you give them too much credit," I whisper back, smiling ever so slightly.
I almost never smile; there was never a reason to. But Jill somehow always knew how to humor me. I suppose that is why we are so close.
"Who is next? Jill Deans?" calls a female list reader. Her eyes scan the crowd until Jill steps forward, pushing her cart of peaches with a hint of difficulty when she reached the slope connected to the machine. "Well, hurry up then, we do not have all day."
I can see the tension increase in Jill's shoulders as she fights back anger. Ever since the Prospects killed off her entire family except her little brother, she has been out for revenge. Never has she spoken this out loud, I can just tell. Every single day she had to strive to put food into her little brother's, Tommy, stomach and hope that scraps would be enough to keep her going. The only issue with that was there were never scraps left behind by the little meals that barely filled Tommy up. The number of her peaches was usually 400 but today the number was 398. I stare up at her and mouth, "Why didn't you tell me?" Jill shakes her head indicating she had not known.
"No pay for you. Next!" yells the list reader who was already going to work to find the next name.
Jill walks down the incline and makes her way over to me. Her face was beat red with rage and I can tell it is taking all of her strength not to retaliate. Silently, she stands beside me as I wait for my turn. As we wait we see the guard that had whipped Harold to death earlier standing in a lone corner, staring at us intently. Somehow, I do not think my peaches will be 500 today.
"Loren Baker," the list reader reads off.
I step forward, pushing my cart slow enough to make the list reader scowl. In return to her glare I smile, making the disdain in her gaze increase. I dump my cart into the funnel, then, instead of looking up at the screen, I stare at the guard who was watching me. The smile on my lips grows larger as the list reader announces that I too was just two peaches off. It seems as though all the enjoyment the guard was hoping to get out of the situation was drained by my odd behavior. Good. I jump off the slope, barely maintaining my balance when my feet land on the ground. I wander over to Jill who is completely dumbfounded but remains quiet for the moment. After the rest are called and paid we are sent on our way.
"What the hell was with you?" asked Jill when we were safely away from any unwanted ears.
"He did that on purpose because of Harold. I was watching him and I do not doubt for a second he saw me hold his hand before he died. You were watching as well and you are my friend which is how you got in the middle of it all. I am sorry," I apologize, hoping Jill is not mad.
Jill twisted her hair back into a tight bun and then shrugged. "It's not your fault. Maybe we should lay low for a while though. You know, not go F. I. S. H. I. N. G."
I roll my eyes and reply, "I think guards can spell and I have to. I did not get paid and mom is in one of her states again. I will get something for you and Tommy too."
I can feel Jill's eyes on my back as I run off before she can protest. Never would she ask me to get her food but we both know she would do the same for me. The perimeter of our town is outlined in a large stoned wall. It is meant to keep bad things out, so they say, but I know better; it is to keep us in. There is a spot in the wall where water is allowed to flow in. The water curves through the town making irrigation possible for farmers. Luckily, I know how to swim. Sometimes, the water is a gross brown color; this is when I do not dare to swim. Once a month this occurs, the reason why I am not sure of. My guess would be that they detected someone sneaking out and hope to poison them. The water is cold tonight, which is a joy to my sore muscles. I hold my breath as I swim under the thick wall. It takes less than thirty seconds to get to the other end.
When I feel as though it is safe, I submerge from the water, my eyes instantly scanning the walls behind me. The usual guards are asleep, as always, in their luxurious chairs that overlook the forest. Still, I stay hidden beneath the refuge of the tree's shadows. At my customary spot beneath a large oak tree, I sit and dig up my pole that is hidden beneath forest debris. I made the pole a few years ago out of a fallen limb after a bad lightning storm had struck. The pole is sharp at the end so I am able to spear the fish. After laying the pole in plane view at my left, I take out a net disguised beneath some leaves in a hole in the tree. I place it securely in the water at my right. When I see the net is well enough, I make my way down the lake about a half a mile. This was to not scare the fish I hoped to catch in my net. As soon as my feet are stable on a rock in the middle of the water, I begin trying to catch fish with my rod.
Here is my sanctuary. This is where my thoughts are allowed to roam free and explore the vast abyss of my mind. I have only cried a few times and both times had been in the forest. It was as if I were invincible and no one could stop me. Sometimes I take Jill or Thea here and teach them how to catch fish. If something ever happens to me, at least they would be able to eat.
The night ends all too soon and I do not take the risk of being out in the early morning hours when the sun diminishes the night. I put everything back the way it was then stuff all the fish into my bag. The fish count comes to only 7. It's not too bad considering I have only been here for an hour, but it's still not that great. I tie off the opening of my bag, knowing the water would greedily steal it away from my grasp if I allowed it to then dive into the water.
As I walk home I walk stealthily through the alleyways and shadows. I make it home just as Thea is getting up and dressed for school.
"Fishing again?" she asks softly, trying not to wake mother up.
Our pathetic house consists of one bedroom, a living room and a kitchen that is attached to the living room. We have an outhouse out back if we need to use the restroom. The Prospects spoil us compare to some families.
I nod tossing three of the fish into the freezer then I put the bag of the other four onto the counter before crashing on the couch.
"Wake me up before the bell rings," I tell her before my heavy eyes lull me into a deep sleep.
After my usual daily pickings of five hundred peaches, I head towards the main center where the Prospects' workers throw the peaches into a large funnel like machine. The machine swallows the fruit then posts the number onto a large screen above the large wooden desk that no one except the workers are allowed to cross.
"Do you think if we threw their brains in it would read back the two brain cells they have?" Jill spits sarcastically under her breath as she pushes a large cart that carries her bags of peaches.
Obviously we can not carry all the peaches by hand so they issue us carts at the beginning of every year. We are to keep track of them and take care of them. If the cart is ruined, no matter how, we are expected to carry them anyways. There was a man whose cart was destroyed when a guard pushed a 'criminal' into it. The man was outraged and demanded a new one. Unfortunately the guard charged him with disorderly conduct and sent him off for court. The man was never seen again.
"Please, you give them too much credit," I whisper back, smiling ever so slightly.
I almost never smile; there was never a reason to. But Jill somehow always knew how to humor me. I suppose that is why we are so close.
"Who is next? Jill Deans?" calls a female list reader. Her eyes scan the crowd until Jill steps forward, pushing her cart of peaches with a hint of difficulty when she reached the slope connected to the machine. "Well, hurry up then, we do not have all day."
I can see the tension increase in Jill's shoulders as she fights back anger. Ever since the Prospects killed off her entire family except her little brother, she has been out for revenge. Never has she spoken this out loud, I can just tell. Every single day she had to strive to put food into her little brother's, Tommy, stomach and hope that scraps would be enough to keep her going. The only issue with that was there were never scraps left behind by the little meals that barely filled Tommy up. The number of her peaches was usually 400 but today the number was 398. I stare up at her and mouth, "Why didn't you tell me?" Jill shakes her head indicating she had not known.
"No pay for you. Next!" yells the list reader who was already going to work to find the next name.
Jill walks down the incline and makes her way over to me. Her face was beat red with rage and I can tell it is taking all of her strength not to retaliate. Silently, she stands beside me as I wait for my turn. As we wait we see the guard that had whipped Harold to death earlier standing in a lone corner, staring at us intently. Somehow, I do not think my peaches will be 500 today.
"Loren Baker," the list reader reads off.
I step forward, pushing my cart slow enough to make the list reader scowl. In return to her glare I smile, making the disdain in her gaze increase. I dump my cart into the funnel, then, instead of looking up at the screen, I stare at the guard who was watching me. The smile on my lips grows larger as the list reader announces that I too was just two peaches off. It seems as though all the enjoyment the guard was hoping to get out of the situation was drained by my odd behavior. Good. I jump off the slope, barely maintaining my balance when my feet land on the ground. I wander over to Jill who is completely dumbfounded but remains quiet for the moment. After the rest are called and paid we are sent on our way.
"What the hell was with you?" asked Jill when we were safely away from any unwanted ears.
"He did that on purpose because of Harold. I was watching him and I do not doubt for a second he saw me hold his hand before he died. You were watching as well and you are my friend which is how you got in the middle of it all. I am sorry," I apologize, hoping Jill is not mad.
Jill twisted her hair back into a tight bun and then shrugged. "It's not your fault. Maybe we should lay low for a while though. You know, not go F. I. S. H. I. N. G."
I roll my eyes and reply, "I think guards can spell and I have to. I did not get paid and mom is in one of her states again. I will get something for you and Tommy too."
I can feel Jill's eyes on my back as I run off before she can protest. Never would she ask me to get her food but we both know she would do the same for me. The perimeter of our town is outlined in a large stoned wall. It is meant to keep bad things out, so they say, but I know better; it is to keep us in. There is a spot in the wall where water is allowed to flow in. The water curves through the town making irrigation possible for farmers. Luckily, I know how to swim. Sometimes, the water is a gross brown color; this is when I do not dare to swim. Once a month this occurs, the reason why I am not sure of. My guess would be that they detected someone sneaking out and hope to poison them. The water is cold tonight, which is a joy to my sore muscles. I hold my breath as I swim under the thick wall. It takes less than thirty seconds to get to the other end.
When I feel as though it is safe, I submerge from the water, my eyes instantly scanning the walls behind me. The usual guards are asleep, as always, in their luxurious chairs that overlook the forest. Still, I stay hidden beneath the refuge of the tree's shadows. At my customary spot beneath a large oak tree, I sit and dig up my pole that is hidden beneath forest debris. I made the pole a few years ago out of a fallen limb after a bad lightning storm had struck. The pole is sharp at the end so I am able to spear the fish. After laying the pole in plane view at my left, I take out a net disguised beneath some leaves in a hole in the tree. I place it securely in the water at my right. When I see the net is well enough, I make my way down the lake about a half a mile. This was to not scare the fish I hoped to catch in my net. As soon as my feet are stable on a rock in the middle of the water, I begin trying to catch fish with my rod.
Here is my sanctuary. This is where my thoughts are allowed to roam free and explore the vast abyss of my mind. I have only cried a few times and both times had been in the forest. It was as if I were invincible and no one could stop me. Sometimes I take Jill or Thea here and teach them how to catch fish. If something ever happens to me, at least they would be able to eat.
The night ends all too soon and I do not take the risk of being out in the early morning hours when the sun diminishes the night. I put everything back the way it was then stuff all the fish into my bag. The fish count comes to only 7. It's not too bad considering I have only been here for an hour, but it's still not that great. I tie off the opening of my bag, knowing the water would greedily steal it away from my grasp if I allowed it to then dive into the water.
As I walk home I walk stealthily through the alleyways and shadows. I make it home just as Thea is getting up and dressed for school.
"Fishing again?" she asks softly, trying not to wake mother up.
Our pathetic house consists of one bedroom, a living room and a kitchen that is attached to the living room. We have an outhouse out back if we need to use the restroom. The Prospects spoil us compare to some families.
I nod tossing three of the fish into the freezer then I put the bag of the other four onto the counter before crashing on the couch.
"Wake me up before the bell rings," I tell her before my heavy eyes lull me into a deep sleep.
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