The Demon Boy

Day Three - Afternoon

     His words have the intended effect. Alicia melts. Melts too much, perhaps. She looks like she's about to cry. "Jeezus kid, jeezus..." She doesn't make the mistake of touching him again, however much she wants to pull him into a bear hug.

     The boy regrets his words. He wanted to schmooze with the nice lady who gives him soup on the sly, not bring her to tears. He sits there dumbly with one hand hovering aimlessly in the air. He's not sure what to do at all. He oughta do something, say something. "S'alright. I dun mind. I've been out in worse and turned out fine."

     His optimism is intended to be reassuring. What he says has the effect opposite to his intentions. Alicia's heart breaks. She excuses herself abruptly and rushes to the kitchen, to Gerry. It would've been better if the boy had said and done nothing, hand still hesitating halfway to nowhere.

     He watches her leave. Sentimental is right. He'd heard that women were flighty, emotional creatures, but he never believed a word of it until now. The women he knew personally were shrewd and calculating. The few girls he knew were that and worse. Alicia is an entirely different species. It's her that people speak of when they mention the fairer sex. All the more reason to not make her cry.

     He's bitter and guilty until he catches the scent of roast rabbit and remembers the extra serving Alicia's pity has earned him. Thinking about it that way, the situation is reminiscent of when he made a living as a beggar. The pity of passersby earned him change, which in turn bought him a meal. Alicia's pity earns him a warm meal every day. It's the same spiel, except the hearts of passersby were too calloused to shed tears.

     He uses the logic to justify his actions. He feels bad for making Alicia cry, but it's her own fault for being too nice. If this keeps up, she'll give him anything he asks. He'll have a new home in no time. He'd better to ask now while the going's good, while Alicia's emotions are running too high for good sense to stop his plans.

     Gerry the first to notice him. Gerry's a gangly young man, all knees and elbows. A genuine beanpole. He gives the boy a quick glance and returns to peeling potatoes. Alicia notes Gerry's reaction and turns to find the boy behind her. She stoops to come to eye level with him. Way to rub it in, you condescending... The boy swallows back his ire and puts on the charm in preparation for this next performance.

     Alicia has the first line. "Hullo kid. How are you feeling?"

     The boy beams at her. "Much better now Miss Alicia. Thank you so much for your... your..." Shit. He knows the word (more or less), but can't recall how to say it. "Your has-pit-til-ity." It doesn't sound right, but it's close enough.

     Alicia rolls the mangled syllables in her mouth. "Has... You mean hospitality?"

     "That's what I said." He's lying. He hears the difference perfectly, he's just too proud to admit his mistake.

     Mispronounced or not, Alicia smiles at his courtesy. "You are very welcome."

     So far so good. "Say, you remember when we were talking yesterday?"

     "Of course I do. It was only yesterday."

     Excellent. "You still got that roof to offer?" He pouts with full puppy eyes. The more pitiful he looks, the better he plays the lady's heartstrings.

     Alicia worries her lip and glances away. Gerry gives her a sidelong glance. What's his problem?

     Alicia eventually answers. "Err, well... I don't got an extra bed per se... Plus, pa wouldn't be pleased if I took to taking in strays." She looks back to the boy. He's looking as endearing as humanly possible. She sighs. "I'll ask around, but I can't promise anything. If someone's got room for one more, you'll be the first to know after me."

     The boy droops, nods sadly, and slinks back to his place by the fire. He bites his cheeks hard to stop a silly grin from tattooing itself on his face. That went much better than expected. Not only has the telegram business gone swimmingly, he's even got plans underway for permanent accommodations. He can't wait to see what Alicia will find for him. He knows his little act will spur her on her quest. Think of it as his brand of encouragement.

     And so, the boy enjoys his time roasting by the fire in spite of his somber appearance. He enjoys Alicia's mothering as she tries to get herself back into his good books, as if she wasn't there already. But he won't tell her any of that while he's having a good time. And he's not hurting her. Look at her, she's having fun pulling out his splinters.

     "I honestly haven't a clue why you've got more splinters today than you did the day before."

     The boy makes a mental note to find a splinter free way of moving that window. Too many splinters are not only painful, they're suspicious. For the time being, he shrugs off her inquiry before she gets started on his fingers or the ring of marks barely visible under his shirt collar.

     Next is dinner. Alicia insists on keeping him company. The boy grins and bears it. From the looks of things, he's not the only one who's dissatisfied. Gerry watches the two of them intently from the kitchen doorway. He calls Alicia to help him with something. The boy is grateful for the diversion. He's dealt with enough chatterboxes today. The silence does him good. He eats his potatoes and rabbit in peace.

     Whatever distraction Gerry's cooked up in the kitchen, it occupies Alicia well after the boy's polished his plate. No matter. The most pressing concern on his mind is whether he should leave his dirty dishes for Alicia to pick up later or if he should take them in himself.

     He checks the windows to gauges the time using the little light that seeps through the muddy glass. It's late. He should leave. May as well hand in his plate and say goodbye before he goes. He ends up walking in on Alicia and Gerry in the middle of a whispered argument. He catches the words "kid" and "conman" before they notice him and go quiet. The boy studies both of them. They've been talking about him behind his back. They better be saying nice things.

     He plays the fool, pretends he's too naive and innocent to know he's been gossiped about. (Pretends he's not bitter.) "I'm sorry for botherin' yous, but I was wond'rin' what to do with my plate once I'm done with it." He looks like the 'good boy', so timid and shy.

     Neither Alicia nor Gerry says a word. Gerry raises a brow at Alicia and shrugs. Alicia huffs at Gerry... Interesting.

     Alicia ends the stand off. She turns to the boy. "Give your plate here, I'll take care of it for you." Her smile's strained.

     Gerry rolls his eyes. He doesn't comment.

     Alicia takes the plate hands. The boy remains by the doorway and waits to see how long they'll tolerate him being there. He waits longer than anticipated.

     Again, it's Alicia who breaks the silence. "Is there anything else?"

     The boy sizes her up. Could he get away with asking for a piece of bread to save for breakfast tomorrow? Would he be asking too much? Gerry's glaring at him. The beanpole's leery. Now's not a good time to test the waters. "No. Jus' wanting to say g'd night. See you tomorrow!" He can't have Alicia forget about that promise, now can he?

     Alicia stiffens. She waves him goodbye and wishes him good night. Ever watchful Gerry nods to him and keeps an eye on him as he picks up his shoes from the fireside and leaves through the front door.