Chapter 2 - Betty and the beggars

Chapter 2

The little girl was back looking at him with a screwed confused face, ‘you’re weird’ she said then giggled and ran away.  

‘You little s**t’ he shouted and completed the first few steps of a futile chase ‘at least I can read, you little huffer.’  He continued the chase with only words after all what would he have done if he caught her.  He shrugged and returned to his shady harbour hoping to be unnoticed.

 

Maybe I am a weirdo; maybe I am a loser.

He calmed himself, none of it mattered anyway as he imagined winning the race that night and what will stem from that victory.  He would have the money to fix up the new bike and pay Trevor off, if he ever turned up.  Scott constantly thought about the whereabouts of his boss Trevor theorising on what could possibly hold him up.  Once Scott had finished upgrading the new bike he could be fast enough to enter the race in the capitol and get out of this dump for good.  His thoughts were fixed on the new unseen bike and what success he could hope for with it.  He hadn’t really finished constructing his current bike which was parked just off the town square.

Following all his previous failures he was itching for this night to prove that he was the fastest and the best in town.  The biggest itch however was the collection of mosquito bites on his right ankle which he furiously scratched as he combed the crowd for Trevor.  Again there was a tremor of embarrassment of the public spectacle he must be, a sweating, scratching, shaking, staring in to space, sunburned, skinny loser.  He felt an urge to get out of the centre with his rage building at the lateness of Trevor causing him discomfort.  He continued his frantic search looking for a huge bearded head poking out above the crowd. 

As more mosquitos buzzed around him waiting to feast, the people of the town buzzed around in front of him.  They were all hoping to feast too with trades and meetings constantly taking place.  People were eating and drinking before Scott’s eyes while his stomach sat as empty as his pockets.  The most common type of stall here were the ones selling food and food was what people needed most of all.  The smell of every type of cuisine wafted around the square, watering the mouths of hungry passers-by and none more so than Scott’s.

He was untroubled by his mouth watering and stomach rumbling as it was not the first or worst time.  Most people were starving and if you weren’t having stomach cramps then that was the time to worry.  Images of a thousand different meals were flying through his mind as he imagined gorging himself following winning the race that night. 

The food he craved was a closely guarded commodity and fighting often broke out around these stalls.  Any theft would be swiftly and brutally dealt with by the store and stall owners, and Scott didn’t want to lose any fingers.  He had often shook the hand of a man with a finger or two missing and shuddered whilst looking at his pinkie.  

The Policia would not get involved with such trivial matters so the community acted without restraint often going too far.  The worst offenders would be marched over the line to be obliterated by the sentry guns.  Still this swift sometimes cruel retribution didn’t really stop people at least attempting to steal.  The mind doesn’t halt the hand when a loaf of bread is only inches from an empty stomach. 

Knowing he had wasted his pay that week he couldn’t feel too sorry for himself at these rumbles.  He was relatively well paid having found employment with Trevor around eighteen months ago.  Trevor had noticed his seemingly natural talent for mechanics and had been throwing scraps of work his way.  Through this work he had managed to secure his own room in not the worst part of town.

More importantly to him he had acquired, fixed up and modified a motorbike meaning he could race.  Having left the facility two years earlier he was now fifteen and in that towns terms a man.  He had achieved more in short space of time than most kids from a facility ever would but still he was not happy with his position.

‘Hi Scott, you racing tonight’ shouted a voice from the street. 

Scott saw the slender figure of Karla who was caught in the stream of the crowd coming towards him.  Her dark hair was tucked under a red cap in a ponytail.  She kept her head down with hiding her face under peak of the cap.  She seemed almost embarrassed to let it be seen.  She wore a white T-shirt almost as oil stained as Scott’s along with baggy jeans a nervous smile.  He didn’t know her well but she always seemed to at least say hello to him.

‘Oh Hi, Yeah, are you?’ he asked as she continued to flow past caught in the current.

‘Of course, the money is already in my pocket’ she laughed.

‘Hey, you don’t weigh anything, it’s not fair on the rest of us,’ Joked Scott.

‘I’m just better than you Scott, face it’ she continued to giggle. 

‘I just needed to fix up my bike, tonight is my night, I would just watch from the side if I was you, save some fuel’ shouted Scott breaking into laughter.

‘You mean you’ve stuck it back together after last time’ she said bringing Scott’s laughter to a halt.  Her face dropped mirroring Scott’s, ‘I’m only joking, don’t be so serious.’  The flow of the crowd was now taking her out of view.

‘Well I will see you later’ she shouted as she was washed around the corner.

‘Yeah, bye’ shouted Scott hoping the words made it to her.

He knew just how good a racer she actually was and she had won many races compare to his zero.  He was still certain he was the best and certain the new bike would get him to where he wanted to be. 

As time passed Scott’s anger continued to grow with thought like where the hell was that great hairy mess crossing his mind frequently.  His brilliant plan to appease Trevor’s likely anger was now overthought and a confusing muddle of nonsense.  Still he waited, the time marked by the shadow of the church steeple creeping across the square.  He looked up this huge building with its sheer white walls and considered how it could be so grand when everything else was so dilapidated. 

It was odd how much it contrasted with its surroundings, totally dominating the square and wider than that the whole town.  It rose high above the other buildings which were mere shacks in its presence and there wasn’t a single place in town you couldn’t see it from.  The troubling memory of when Scott first met Carlos crossed his mind.  Strangely his first words to Scott were ‘keep away from the church,’ a warning that proceeded ‘hello’ and ‘what is your name.’

Carlos was a tall spindly boy with dark olive skin and medium jet black hair swept back to the extreme against his head. A couple of years older than Scott and a couple more years hard faced and wise about the ways of people in that town.  Carlos had become Scott’s strongest ally and friend in the town and they shared a deep trust that stemmed from that first meeting. 

Groups of friends in the town were often small and trust was as rare a commodity as food and water.  There were just two other people other than Carlos that Scott considered his friends.  Mike who had arrived around the same time as Scott and arriving around five months ago was the thirteen year old Puerco. 

They all had no family and were raised in a facility which meant bearing the surname ‘Perdido’ meaning ‘lost.’  This was a name assigned to children whose parents were dead or untraceable.  There were many kids bearing the name Perdido in that region, war had killed many parents, starvation killed even more and disease and crime had killed almost all the rest.  So Perdido was a common name in town and those with that name found some solace in knowing there were others like them.

White, Black, Hispanic or whatever all had the Perdido name, it didn’t really matter where you were born. The countries didn’t really exist anymore anyway, if they ever did in the first place.  These four ‘Perdidos’ often spent time together drinking, racing and helping each other out if they could.

Mike had dark skin with short black hair and always seemed to be smiling unless of course you made him angry.  This was an easy task and generally it was easy to bring out the worst of someone in town.  Scott and Mike found much in common after being released into town and were in much the same predicament. 

Puerco was the youngest and being so small he found himself very vulnerable. His time in the dorm in town was as unpleasant as it was unspoken.  Carlos had saved Puerco from an unfortunate end and figured he had the right to don him with an unfortunate nickname.  After days without a meal Puerco had devoured his food like and animal, like a pig, so Puerco was born.

Carlos would not speak and further on the Church other than to say ‘just stay away.’  When pressed he would not speak on it further even becoming angry.  Scott took his word for it as his word was good enough and besides had no intention of going to church anyway.  Whether for a hand out or a prayer he had not ventured inside since the warning.

Still he had no idea what went on behind the churches pure walls but the Padre was a common site. Offering food to the starving or to new arrivals in town.  He could not understand why Carlos hated him, at least there was someone looking out for the poorest in the town.  His mind soon returned to running through the various unlikely scenarios in which Trevor would give him the new bike for free and something suddenly stole his attention.

There was an old short man slowly moving around the street and with a hobble like that Scott’s eyes were drawn immediately to the man’s feet.  He wore old discoloured brown sandals that showed his abhorrent twisted toes along with his filth encrusted and curling toenails.

‘Can you spare’ he groaned over and over again to each passer-by.

“Can you spare,” wow thought Scott now engrossed in the old man.  Who could really spare anything here, he was destined to be ignored.  The kids could scrape a living but not an old man, the crowd flowed around him like a river around a rock.  The stall owners shoed him away bouncing him like a pinball down the street and round the corners.  Sympathy was long gone for anyone like him, anyone who can’t get cash would soon die. 

A series of thoughts crossed Scott’s mind feeling this man was disgusting, the shame of asking for money covered in filth.  He felt the beggar would be better off dead and imagined him walking over the kill line as so many had done before.

What always stole his attention though was Betty and as soon as he noticed her his attention switched immediately.  She was also working her way through the crowd holding a package with her baby daughter strapped tightly to her within a green diamond patterned scarf.  She was fourteen and already had a baby to take care of.  For most girls her age the job opportunities were slim and now with another mouth to feed the choices were much darker.  Prostitution, begging or the stark choice to leave the baby in front of the church hoping it would be taken in, or not.

Luckily her father who she worked for could support her, he ran the general store and in addition always had secret under the table trades that made them comfortable here.  The rumours Scott had heard flashed in his mind each time he saw here.  It was a widely held belief that her father used her in trades to sweeten the deal and this is likely why she was found pregnant.  

Men would invade her room in the night and do whatever they wanted to her just for to seal a deal.  People were commodities, just like bread and water and she was just something to be used to gain more cash.

To Scott she was a glimmer of gold in the grey sea of this town but it was not just her beauty he craved.  She seemed somehow to rise above the darkness in this town, to have risen above the pain, out of the shadow of the wall.  He was perplexed as to how she could be happy here in this filth. Even now the red face of an angry hand was apparent as she strolled through town, still she smiled; still she had hope.  Scott wondered if he could he ever be that strong and how she could still find the capacity to care and bring happiness to those around her. 

Betty had the unique skill of managing to entice a smile from everyone she met, even the hardest of faces would crack in her presence.  All faces but her fathers that is, who had flown into a rage when he found out about the pregnancy.  The remnants of where he cruelly shaved a patch in her hair was still visible although the black eye had long since faded.  Even with all he knew of her Scott was still excited by her each time he saw or even thought of her, which was often.

These wholesome thoughts soon faded as his eyes fell on her hips, he watched how they shook as she walked and his mind drifted away.  The way she moved and the shape of her body in those tight jeans sent blood rushing away from his aching stomach.  Internal panic took him over and he tried his best to compose himself not wanting any further embarrassment.  He turned around facing the shop and set his mind to anything that would cause his erection to subside. 

‘Can you spare’ said a voice.

He had been so engrossed in Betty that he didn’t notice the old beggar walk up to him.  He looked around to see the old man holding up a can pointing a toothless smile right at him.  ‘Can you spare’ again said the beggar,

‘No! get out of here’ snapped Scott hoping his bulge was not too apparent.

‘Can you spare’ again said the man shooting his smile straight at Scott with the stench of his breath hitting his nostrils in an explosion of rotten gums and cheap alcohol.

‘F**k off you old b*****d, you stink.’ Scott tried to shoe him away like a stray dog from food,

Again ‘Can you..’ Scott cut him off

‘Listen, go away I’ve said no, now get away from me’

Clink!

A coin fell into the beggars can.

‘Scott, come on help him out,’ it was Betty.  

Embarrassment smothered him as he was sure she could see the indiscretion in his jeans.  He was overcome with the thought of what a creepy pervert she must think he is.  She smiled at Scott and even with her missing tooth a much more pleasant smile than that of the beggars.  It was not the teeth that made her smile beautiful it was the personality and intent behind it.  Scott’s face instantly lit up and he cracked an awkward smile. 

It had been so long since he had smiled like that he had almost forgotten how.  He tried to remember the last time he smiled so freely and remembered it was the last time he spoke to Betty.  He stumbled over his words trying to find an appropriate response. 

‘Well, it’s erm, he, well, I…’ Betty turned to the beggar not listening to Scott’s garbled excuses.  The baby locked eyes with his and almost seemed to judge him.  This pushed words even further from his tongue as the baby stared into his soul.

‘Get something to eat’ she said softly and pointed him back towards the main street.

The old man slowly hobbled away through the town with his shiny can in hand, now clinking with the one coin inside ‘can you spare.’

Betty nuzzled her baby in her arms stealing the attention away from Scott’s dumstruck face.  For a moment she spoke in baby talk and made silly noises causing the infant to giggle in delight.  Betty spoke whilst continuing to gaze into the eyes of her baby ‘We’ve got to help each other Scott, otherwise what is the point.’ ‘This one will be different, my daughter will be kind.’ ‘Won’t you, yes you will, yes you will’ she continued in baby speak and the baby girl giggled hysterically.

Scott paused in thought a moment, his mind churned in hope of finding a respectable comment or excuse but found only silence.

‘Bye Scott’ she said whilst walking away.

‘erm bye,’ he said but it was too late as she washed into the crowd baby in tow.  The moment had passed and frustration burned like the sun above at not managing to string a sentence together.  As always he thought of what to say after she had walked away.  The words lay waiting in his mouth but as always, they had nowhere to go.

He dwelled on what she had said, was he an ogre, unkind and uncaring towards anyone other than himself.  However the most difficult thing to swallow was the thought that she saw him that way.  In many ways that was much worse than if she actually did see his erection. 

A thought popped into his mind for just an instant but a clear and dark though.  A wish that Bettys baby daughter had never been born, even the thought of the baby dying so he could have her.  He was instantly disgusted with his own thoughts questioning his own sanity.  He did not want that, he did not want a baby to die.

He remained there motionless for a while his shame giving way to shock at how he could think such a thing.  Betty’s words came back in to his mind setting off a string of thoughts, was he just another worthless lowlife like everyone else in the town. 

A passing comment or his own mind could keep him awake all night, deliberating its meaning and what truth lay behind the words.  Setting off a cascade of questions in his mind followed by the playing out of a hundred scenarios of what to do next.  Scenarios about a moment that has already passed and he could do nothing about.  He knew there was no purpose to these thoughts but as now could not escape their grasp.  He thought about Betty’s body close to his again but this time with shame obscuring lust, did he just want to f**k her like those other men?

‘So, here it is.  ………the bike’ said a voice from the alley.

Author's Note

i feel like i've put a lot of information here rather than action

Reviews

[tynamite]

Eight paragraphs in, and I'm finding it hard to follow. Why does Scott keep walking around to different places?

[Ryan Yates]

He doesnt, he walks to a building and stays there. i am not sure why you think he is moving around

[tynamite]

I was really tired last night. I'll read it again today.

[Ryan Yates]

cool, i think its the part where i say he searched the crowd maybe. i meant with his eyes not physically

[tynamite]

My review for this chapter is that things are still being introduced to the reader in chapter 2 and not much action happens, so I question how long the beginning is, and how much introducing happens to the reader.

[TheMalady]

I think the information here is a prelude of a thrilling action that will take place in the next chapter. It's a good start to make the readers acquainted with what will happen. Looking forward to the next chapter. :)

[Cyndy Robinson]

I like this chapter. I think it is very well done, and now you have the grip into the story line. I have the hook line and sinker, and want to read the next, lol.

[annalysiar]

No I was really into this chapter and sad to see it end. Maybe it was the information it gave me a better grip on the story and storyline. But this one has a great pace and flow. I love how much more your character comes to life.

[Daisy Ackerman]

I kept reading and didn't find myself bored at all! Interesting read.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very good chapter. You gave enough. I like the want for the woman and the world you have create. I like his want and wanting more than the others. The story leave the reader in dangerous places and wanting to know more. Thank you for sharing the excellent chapter.
Coyote