Hello! Despite what everyone is thinking I am not dead. Actually, I lied. I died in a horrible overdose of snorting pixie dust and now I have come back as a zombie. So my coolness went through the roof.
Anywho since only one person responded to my question I still have that stupid contest going.
Well here we go. A fresh new chapter directly out of my rotting brain.
Spade dumped herself in front of the pub. She tried to look discreet in her drunkenness, but it was impossible for she looked like a flamboyant hobo. She would start singing the old songs she knew but muddled the words. So she made up half the songs she had forgotten with curse words.
"OOOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhh mes fater's swill was
errr…….shitty and so twas his bluud
Pissy bastard he waaaaaaaaazzzzzz
Du du du dudut du dut da
Cuck face assh 'ole
My gud me's brain haz tuken a tole
Many Clackers would fret and throw money at her, which delighted Spade to no end in her stupor. Even though it was small cash she sung all the louder and brassier for it. Spade quickly tired though after a few more verses and sagged against the building. She stayed like that for a long while. Eventually she noticed that some one had blocked the sun and she looked up groggily.
Like an insistent nightmare he was, Stranger looked down on Spade with distaste. Spade crossed her arms and returned the look.
"Wat ter hell are's yous doing heer prick" Spade growled, the effort making her woozy.
Stranger made a snorting sound and pointed at her rifle. Spade pull it closer protectively.
"Don't like guns or ter gretting drunk" he rumbled.
Spade ignore his stupid opinions.
"I cash at 'ounty" The annoying nit blared on.
"I'ves notice ya arsehole" Spade mumbled poisonously. It took her a moment to realize how weird it sound because she didn't pause long enough between "ya' and "arsehole"
She snubbed this uncomfortable fact as she did Stranger.
" I'lls gives ya half"
Spade eyed Stranger. He has to be more of an idiot then Spade had ever realized. Blatantly he was waving Spades failure in front of her, as if he was out right saying "You don't deserve all of this, only half because your life was only worth half of this outlaws life." Spade had put her life on the line to capture Booty, if Booty ever squealed about Spades identity her life will come to a gruesome abrupt halt. For she had violated the taboo of outlaw culture, don't ya ever hunt your own kind. Punishment was death.
Spade then walled her eyes. "Doesn't madder anyway Purdy boi, tat 'ounty twas garbage a looong time ago".
Stranger narrowed his frightening eyes. "Ten why did cha stick wit me like a bluddy tick alls this ways" he growled like a sleg. Clearly he was pissed off at this sudden change of spirit in Spade.
"I twas yung and naive once 'pon a time" Spade replied in what she thought was quite sagely. Though the truth was, she was afraid. that's why she tried to get her bounty back tooth and nail. If she was in control of Booty, maybe she could extract some promise from him not to tell. She had mashed the part of her mind that was buzzing that outlaws never kept their word.
Stranger sighed. He squared his shoulders like some huffy prat and expelled upon Spade something worst then his mouth.
"I's knows twat yer are" He said very lowly. Like an animal whispering. "Outlaw"
Spade shuddered involuntarily. Feeling her eyes widened and her heart beat in her gullet, she watch Stranger through a dazed vision as he crouched eye level to her.
"If yer don't comply wit me, a ittle birdy will tell all ta outlawys bout cher secert"
Spade gulped her saliva down and almost choked.
" Now yer going ter be da bait ter lure all tose pain in at asses outlaws so I can catch tem more efficient like." The monster said "Got it?"
Spade didn't want to get it. She wanted to disappear or to die right now a quick and lovely death. Instead she was offered two choices that her intoxicated mind could barely handle. Have the word of her out by tomorrow or let it slowly let it rot in the outlaw community. Either way she would end up with a tortured death. So her brain came up with a perfectly insane plan for her desperate situation.
She cocked her Ma's rifle at Strangers heart.
Breathing hard, lungs constricting the air out of her lungs, Spade stared into hell. Waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting for retaliation from Stranger. Anticipating for some movement, some incentive for her to pull that friendly trigger. For her nimbly finger to pluck that simple string of death.
Stranger did not move, he was still and lazed. The barrel pressed against his chest didn't faze him. Inexplicitly Stranger was calm. His heart could be blown out of his body, yet he did nothing.
Sweat began to bead on Spades brow. What was this? This beastie was stupid and dangerous. Or was it something else. Had Spade miscalculated. No she couldn't have. She even shook her head to convince herself.
This was Spades undoing. In her moment of doubt the tables were changed.
Stranger snatched the rifle away and threw it.
Spade broke out into drunken sobs. She must look like shit. Not like that was much of a change but once her power was snatched away….she was a failure. She was uglier. Her little control of her world was stripped and Spade laid there naked in front of Stranger. In front of everyone, she made a spectacle of herself. Her prone soft body. Ugly.
Stranger kicked Spade hard in the gut. Snapping Spade out of her own world into that of pain. Her Sobs stopped and instead she groaned.
"Be 'ere tomorrow" He growled.
The nightmare left and Spade was left shaking in its wake.
It was so beautiful.
The way that instrument gleamed like gold and wine. So richly it caught the light and twinkled in Feoa's eye.
She was afraid to touch it, afraid that it will melt and wither under her finger tips. Be contaminated forever more with an uglyness decaying in it like a mold. The music maker thrust it into her unworthy hands.
The music maker was once fabled to be as handsome as Joe Mole, but age had blurred his features with fuzzy wrinkles. He was still straight and lean but fat gathered into jowls on his face making frown a perpetual disagreement. His skin was an old weathered yellow with a trace of brown sugar color to it.
His rusty voice lilted as he instructed Feoa how to handle the beautiful instrument.
"Nur huld tat cross yur body…..genty nur……not tu lightly or yurll drop it…..gud gud."
The music maker thin fingers covered over Feoa's placing them at the proper strings on the neck. The music maker didn't know what to do with Feoa's littlest finger. The instrument only had four strings and feoa had five fingers.
" Hmmmmmmmmmm tu many fungers…."
He adjusted Feoas right hand on the neck.
He straighten himself and began sagely.
"My ogly child, yer are bout tu learn taa ajuint art of da music. Taa ting in yer hands nur is called a Balino." Oh how that word was beautiful thought Feoa "Taa truining will be hurd but ter art must be learned. My child yaa will be prudy and buutiful tu behold once ya learn taa ways of at Banilo."
Lies. Pretty ones, but lies. Feoa would never be beautiful. She kindled an ember of hope in her heart though. A crazy erratic hope that fought against her good sense.
"Nur press yur fungers down hard."
Feoa did so and the thin strings bit into her soft virgin finger tips. She let up the pressure to save her fingers. This earned her a harsh slap from the Music Master.
"Fungers pressd to da BOARD" the old outlaw hissed.
Feoa gulped pressing her fingers down as hard as she could but she just couldn't. It hurt so bad. It was like as if little knifes were cutting her butter skin.
Another slap but it was nothing to the metal string sawing into her fingers.
"HARDER" the Music master demanded his voice raised.
Feoa struggled for a few minutes trying her best but it was agonizing to her hand. Now her knuckles were cramping up, her fingers began to trickle blood, and her bones ache. But finally the strings touched the board.
The Music master reclined in his chair watching her hand. Feoa didn't dare to let her hand slip in the slightest. It stayed like this until the sun was low in the sky and Feoa could see it through the window. Her fingers were still bleeding and it ran down the strings to the inside of the Balino. It was dark fat beads of red that clung to the strings like dew. Feoa stared at her blood dripping into the instrument. The pain was gone and she was just numb in her right hand.
She thought of many things during this time because it was the first time in her life where she did very little for such a long period. First she thought of sad things. Why was she so ugly? Was it a curse? Were the gods angry or spiteful on the day of her birth? Why had mama kept her? It was customary to kill infants in mercy if they were missing limbs or had too many. It happen often enough that no one was looked down upon to commit such an act.
Feoa cried quietly at such ideas. Soon though she got over this as she always did and the tears left salty trails on her face.
She began to think of happier things like meeting her papauncle and how she would learn how to play the Balino and how much ever one would like even love her for it.
After a while she thought of nothing. It was a peace she had never known before.
No beauty or ugly just apathy.
Once the sun touched the horizon The Music master said something after hours of stillness and silence.
'"Yer did vury well, nur yer blud has bin added ter the genera'ions afore yer in da belly of at Balino." The old music maker took the Balino from Feoa. Her hand was still frozen in the same position of pressing down the Balino. The Music master slapped it till it was limp and sent her home.
Spade sat curled into a ball. Trying to keep her emotions within her, but some of it leaked out.
How pitiful it was. Spade a supposed bad ass, blubbering like a pansy, ruining her rep. She sat there till it was dark and cold like her insides. The star shown brightly in the heavens. Legend told that Gor , an outlaw god, had stolen the most beautiful trinket from Zeke. The trinket was a sun that Zeke would hide in her bosom. Gor had dropped the sun and it broke into a million pieces.
The stars seemed cold to Spade. Despite them being made from a shattered sun. Finally she staggered up once the bar tender yelled for her to move She stumbled into a alley way and sank to the ground. She was empty. She had no tears to cry or emotions to feel. Only a question.
What will she do?
She wish she could listen to some music and let it wash away her sorrows in sweet waves of pleasure. There was none in that alley nor in her head. A silence that smothered her was her companion for that night. She would go into hiding. Let this whole thing blow over after a year or two. Then she'll come back and kill Stranger. This was a good plan. Spade had decided. She fished out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them carefully trying to divine if her choice was the best course of action. Breathing slowly she shut her eyes and drew her card. In and out, went her breath, in and ooouuutttt. She held her card in front of her face and peeped her eyes open.
A two of clubs.
Spade snorted to herself. That was one of the most god awful, wishy washy card in her deck. It basically said " To hell with you, I'm just gonna hold that bit of info to myself."
She started to feel apathetic about her situation as she grew more tired. She returned her life charm to its secret pocket. Spade tried to settle herself the best she could against the wooden wall, but no matter what there was always some splinter thrusting up into he side.
Spade sighed. This was her life.