Chapter Five: Dinner with a stranger
Elizabeth
I was stuck with her. The girl with the frog perched on her shoulder like it was a pretty parrot. More like a deranged parrot with a very bad feather condition. It was an ugly thing, with bulging eyes that I believed were glaring at me. I had been thankful on the occasions when her dark hair covered the sickly green, lumpy body of the creature. You’d think if given a choice, she would have a different travelling companion.
A feeling of dread fell like an enormous sack of concrete bricks upon my shoulders, heavy, abrupt and completely unexpected. Well who watches out for bags of bricks? What if she believes that I was her new “friend”? She even said so herself, though I had been accustomed to sarcasm earlier on in life and knew that it was laced with the implications, I couldn’t help to see a forewarning of some sort. That I wasn’t going to lose her any time soon.
She really can’t expect me to be her friend though! She swooped in and tried to take the last can of soup, which was and is rightfully mine, threatened me with a dagger, laughed at my slingshot (really, I don’t see what is so funny about it, it can be deadly, has she not heard the story of David and Goliath?), and then laughed further when I slipped on the jam, which was now all over me and it really smelt horrible.
Yet, the way her eyes had glimmered lead me to think that maybe her level of sanity was low enough to believe that we are ‘friends’. Normally, I would have interpreted it as a cheeky, lively glint, but with the circumstances and the fact that I had no idea who she was, it came across as psychotic.
The only way I had managed to get her to allow me to leave was by agreeing with her ‘proposition’, which was completely unfair and was only going to benefit her.
And now she was standing behind me, waiting. Waiting for me to lose the can of precious soup so she could get her mitts on it. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon, I planned on keeping this soup and tucked it safely into my front jean pockets.
Since it was only evening and the sun had possibly an hour or more left to torture the world, I turned to look at her. “So shall we walk a bit before we…share…the soup?” I asked, the word ‘share’ I had to force through my mouth but thankfully the rest of my words were also hoarse so it was too obvious.
“What do you think Flynn?” she asked the frog, glancing at it. I raised my eyebrows at her, though she wasn’t paying attention to me, too busy consulting her frog. The blob of green glared at me and then let out a low sound. I couldn’t hear it but it was among the lines of a croak and honestly I didn’t care what it meant.
However the girl began to argue with it in a hushed tone but I heard every word. “She has the soup and she only has a slingshot, Flynn, it’ll be fine…”
“Croak.”
“I know but come on she couldn’t beat up a fly….”
“Croak!”
“Fine, I’ll be careful…” the chameleon licked its eye and the conversation finished. “Sure,” she responded, “we’ll head further in?”
I was too shocked and freaked out to come up with a reasonable excuse not to and muttered an okay. She walked past me, knocking me slightly in the shoulder so I was forced to watch her begin walking off in complete and utter confusion.
However I had now come to conclude that her mental state was able to pair me up to the word friend.
After a minute, she turned to look back at me. A hand was soon placed on her hip as she waited for me to follow; I glanced back at the dilapidated before walking over to join her. Another glance just increased the hollowness in my chest.
I’ve forgotten something, but what exactly I didn’t know, I mean my bag was on my shoulders again, what else was there that I could have lost?
I shrugged it off, hoping it was just the fact that there was somebody else here and not instincts that knew something I did not yet know.
At first I allowed her to lead through the city, she seemed slightly more familiar with the place than I was. She didn’t stop and stare down the possible routes for minutes trying to come up with a decision like I had done.
I examined her cautiously with my eyes. Obviously she preferred her pet to me; she talked to it whilst we had lapsed into an unarranged silence ever since leaving the shadow of the store.
Like me she had a bag upon her back, but this one was not as heavily laden as mine, her shoes were in better upkeep than mine, and her clothes apparently were a lot cleaner. She mustn’t travel far. She was practical to some extent but like me wanted to cling out to some form of a pass life, her clothes were what was in fashion at the time.
I then remembered I had planned to get new clothes for myself today, considering the time it was not such a good idea and I didn’t like the idea of going into a clothes shop with her tailing me, if I was perfectly honest. That must have been the feeling of loss I had experienced, I’ll do it in the morning, when she’s gone, as well as the soup.
When darkness began to seemingly rise from the ground to fill the area with the shade and mystery of night I began to slow down. I could still hear her voice ahead speaking to her frog and I waited a few moments before slipping down a side road, away into the night.
Since no street lights had flickered into life I should be able to hide away into the darkness. I had planned this carefully, so that I still had some light in which I could walk away through more streets without causing much disturbance and giving away that I had disappeared.
It was logical not to have the soup tonight, but to save it for when London was behind me. Not because I had the rabbit meat still left in my bag, but because a fire would attract the girl to me, basically a moth to a flame really. The probability would be that she arrived on the scene of my little camp site before the soup was cooked or I had a chance to eat it.
I could have always used the cookers, fires and such like in the houses that lay all around me, but here I did not feel right about entering them. Hotels I didn’t mind because then you can tell which rooms were in use by the keys but you never know with normal homes.
I checked the can of soup still tucked safely into my jeans creating an uncomfortable bulge in the material. As my fingers touched the slightly cool can I became aware of a stone that I had swallowed and now sat heavily on my stomach. I knew when I had swallowed the stone, when I had left the girl with the frog.
I looked at the can now exposed to the night, which was in an on-going battle with the sun, each wishing to inflict their own form of torture on the world. What have I done?
I pivoted on the spot to look down the road; there was no sight or sound of her. Just increasing darkness, and I couldn’t go and retrace my steps, I had become…lost.
“Where did you think you were going?” I screeched, turning in mid-air to see the girl with her hand on hip, and the frog hissing at me. I looked at her, how..?
She did not appear happy, her eyes had lost that glint from the store and her face was covered in shadows. My hand found its way into the pocket on my bag, easily reachable, were my slingshot and one of my spiked stones were when I saw her hand lingering on the dagger handle.
I looked at her, “I told you to follow me, and you mustn’t have been listening.” I knew I could mask my expressions in the shadows; I just had to pretend to play poker. Her eyes drilled into my own, their green irises almost luminous in the shadows and becoming the only thing I could concentrate on. Similarly green eyes were leering at me from the frog, the added weight making me want to move, but I couldn’t, it would give away my lie.
Apparently she knew that though. “Don’t…lie…to me!” She hissed out her voice crackling with anger and an aura of white hot fire seemed to burn from every pore of her body as she slowly moved towards me, her eyes almost without any pupils.
I stood my ground. “I did not lie.” I hissed back my own anger beginning to manipulate my thoughts and actions. What anger I did have, seemingly evaporated from me with the heat from my quickening pulse and in its place I was left with clear thoughts, clear enough that they were like the Caribbean Seas.
I smiled and leaned away from the girl who just looked at me in shock and disbelief. “What does it matter, you’re here, I have the soup and we still have a few more minutes of light.” She sidestepped allowing me to go first; she obviously was smart enough to learn from her mistakes.
As I began to lead the way I heard her voice following me, a mocking tone adorned into her words, like in the supermarket, “I know you were lying.”
By the time we finally stopped, the night had finally prevailed and had won the sky. I had quickly collected some twigs from nearby which were brittle enough to start a fire with. An easy task since that was basically every piece of vegetation around.
The girl assisted me in collecting the wood and soon we had a nice sized pile before us I produced the lighter I had in my bag. Before you jump to conclusions I do not smoke, it was just for when I had gone camping, so I could light fires when it was necessary.
The girl looked questionably at me when she saw the lighter. “I don’t smoke!” I snapped, she didn’t comment. I began spinning the little wheel to produce a flame. I almost jumped back when it finally appeared, a glowing red beacon in the lonely and dark street we were in the middle of. I could already feel the night sucking at the warmth.
London was now geographically similar to a desert in the terms of temperature. I lit a tiny piece of a stick and held it out dropping it onto the fire and trying to keep my body as far away as possible.
Soon the flames had filled our little pile and I eyed the element cautiously, it was reaching up to try and catch everything and wrap it into a deadly embrace of fire.
I tossed the can near the edge to be heated, but not so far in that I would have difficulty turning it. Already the flames was peeling of the remainder of the label and forcing them to try and curl up the can to safety. However the merciless flame didn’t care and I watched silently as the flames devoured all that was not metal.
I glanced up to the other girl, standing in the opposite side of the fire. She seemed entranced in the fire but unaware that the light was bathing her face in its glow, leaving her skin a tint of yellow. But I had seen the pale complexion that was unnatural for this weather; she should at least have some form of a tan. But her face was the same, no tan lines, unlike me. Her hair, which I had first assumed was a black colour but is actually one of the darkest shades of brown I have come across, fell down her back in slight, natural waves. Part of it was pushed behind her ear and was slowly falling out, it was on the same side that the little frog perched, also watching the dancing flames. Its scales, or whatever it was had embraced the fires light and had turned red.
It was then that I truly remembered what I had forgotten.
“You didn’t happen to see a fox outside the supermarket, did you?”
~Victoria
I narrowed my eyes at her. She was really odd, her frosty eyes settled on me and captured me in their stern gaze. A fox. Yes a fox. I think I'd seen a fox. Had I seen a fox? Probably. Yes! Yes I had. I'd scared it away. Was it hers? If it was... I could get myself out of trouble and make up a very elaborate lie; which was one of my many, many talents. But what was the point in lying? I hadn't done it for a while, I was out of practice. I didn't want her finding me out – she was in possession of my dinner after all. It wasn't difficult to tell when she was lying though; she wasn't very good at it at all.
“Yes I saw a fox,” I stated, dropping my eyes back onto the dancing flames of the firelight. I could feel her eyes bore into me, but I didn't give in to them. I searched for the root of the flames, the brightest part of the fire. The hottest part. The most fearsome, passionate part. The part that brought the whole composition of flames together.
“Where did it go?” She asked, and just by her tone of voice I could tell I was annoying her; I couldn't help but smirk to myself. I suppose I could call that a talent too – annoying people. I shrugged and she let out an exasperated sigh. “Well where was it when you saw it?” She asked me, this time I dragged my eyes away from the theatre of flames in front of me and stared straight into her now silver-y eyes. In the firelight, her features were much more defined than they were before. Her bright eyes were the most dominant feature and she did have quite a pretty face. Her cheekbones were pointed and defined and her skin was fairly tanned. She had dark blonde hair, very long, which she kept scraping back with her fingers. As she did this, her neck and ears were visible and with the aid of the firelight, I spotted the absence of her right ear lobe. I squinted in the faint light to make sure I wasn't imagining things; a common occurrence in my mind.
“What happened to your ear?” I asked her and she just stared at me in complete and utter disbelief. She stared at me as if I was mentally ill. An argument could be made for whether I was or not.
“You didn't answer my question,” She stated, her stare now gradually turning into a glare filled with annoyance and impatience. I tilted my head to the side slightly, and furrowed my eyebrows. Did she ask me a question? I turned to Flynn, who looked to me with bright eyes but didn't say a word or indicate anything to me. I decided to consult him, after all, he always knew best.
“What did she ask me Flynn?” I said, and my chameleon let out a small croak. Ah! Yes. The fox.
“Are you for real? You do know that the frog doesn't actually talk-”
“Cover your ears, Flynn!” I squealed and Flynn ran down my arm and buried his head into my t-shirt. The girl rolled her eyes at us both and then hid her face in her hands with a groan. “The fox was sitting outside of the shop, but when I walked over it ran away,” I said, stroking the top of Flynn's scaly head with my index finger.
“You scared away my fox?!” She hissed, leaning forward to the flames. I raised an eyebrow at her.
“You didn't answer my question,” I said, repeating her previous wording seemed to infuriate her. She growled under her breath, before taking one of those very forced breaths that you take just before you embark on a rampage filled with rage at whoever had annoyed you. I tilted my head to the side and analysed her again. I couldn't get my head around why on Earth she was quite so serious. She was very determined, and headstrong. She wasn't a joker and she definitely wouldn't appreciate me and my little songs and laughs. But maybe I could test that later...
“I don't need to answer your question. It's personal.”
“Oh. Well, if you're going to be like that...” I said, mocking fake offence and turning to the side slightly. She didn't find it in any way amusing. I sighed and turned back around, a bit miffed that my audience wasn't enjoying my performances.
“Do you want this soup or not?” She snapped, bringing out the shiny tin of soup. I nodded furiously and she frowned at me again. She tried to find something sharp to open the tin with, as she didn't carry around a tin opener with her. I sighed sarcastically and held out a hand to her. She stared at it with narrowed eyes.
“Give it here,” I stated simply. She didn't move.
“Why should I?”
“Because I have a dagger and you don't.”
“I have a slingshot and you don't.”
“Can a slingshot open a tin of soup?” I retorted, with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. The girl glared and me and grudgingly handed me the tin. The cool metal sent shivers down my fingers, It felt so strange in my hand. I looked towards the girl once more, her ice blue eyes were not letting me escape her gaze; not whilst I had the tin in my possession.
Then an idea sparked.
I looked at her once more, tightened my grasp around the tin and grinned at her. Her eyes widened slightly in confusion as my grin had been completely out of the blue. I let out a laugh and jumped up from my sitting position on the floor, getting ready to bolt with the soup. The girl immediately followed suit and swung a hand at me, trying to grab the scruff of my neck. I ducked too quickly for her and when I stood up straight again, she had her slingshot's pellet aimed at my face. But my dagger was already out and pointed towards her chest. Her breathing was quick and short and her bright eyes were now wide with both shock and anger. At her expression I literally fell to the floor laughter. She looked down at me, her face now shrouded with confusion, as I began to cut open the tin in between short giggles.
“What... What even was that?!” She hissed, slowly but surely returning to her original seating position.
“I was just joking with you. It may not have amused you, but your face made my night.”
“You have severe issues.”
“That's a tad harsh don't you think?” I said, as I finished opening the tin. The smell of tomato filled my nostrils and my stomach immediately began to growl with hunger. I handed the tin back to the girl and she snatched it from my grasp. She still wasn't laughing. Did she not know how to or something? “Sorry,” I stated, still smiling at her.
“Just stop being so... so... childish!”
“I was only joking.”
“Just stop it!” After this, silence had overcome the both of us. Her blonde hair fell over her eyes and created numerous shadows upon her face. I didn't even feel like talking to Flynn any more. I just sat on the hard pavement and watched the still dancing flames as the girl opposite me warmed up our dinner. I began to hum a song that I vaguely remember from the good ol' days and the girl gave me a glare so harsh that it could have burned straight through me. I stopped the humming.
“Here,” She said, handing me a half full tin of soup. I looked to her and she had poured her half into a very small container. I took the the tin from her and immediately tucked into the scarlet liquid. The taste of it dancing across my tongue was magnificent and when it fell to my stomach, it relieved my whole body of it's everlasting hunger pains. I smiled as I scoffed my whole portion down in a matter of minutes. I saved a little bit for Flynn to lick up. I'd finished way before she had and I ended up just watching how she ate her food. She was a lot more appreciative of her meal, whereas I didn't exactly savour the moment.
She was probably disgusted by my behaviour but I didn't particularly care how she viewed me, because I knew she didn't like me anyway. Then an extremely simple thought entered my brain. I didn't even know this girl's name.
“What's your name?” I blurted out, breaking the silence that we had both succumbed to once more. She blinked a few times before answering.
“Elizabeth,” She stated, before looking back at her warm soup. I looked up at the sky, watching the silver stars as I thought of ways to shorten her name, in an attempt to annoy her further. Liz...Lizzie...Beth...Eliza...
“Can I call you Lizzie?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I said so. Are you like this with everyone?” She snapped, clearly getting irritated. Well that's a bit of a stupid question. Considering there is nobody else.
“Well obviously not, if we're the only two people left in existence,” I said, looking at her with a smirk. She just gave me a 'don't test me' look. But I was rather fond of pushing boundaries. She didn't say anything for the next half a hour, so I had to entertain myself by talking to Flynn, for which I received numerous strange looks. Then suddenly, her head snapped to the side and I could have sworn I saw the tips of her ear twitching slightly.
I looked at her and she was sitting as still as a statue, her head tilted slightly.
“What are you doing?” I asked her and she didn't move.
“Shh! Can't you hear that?” She whispered harshly. I stopped for a moment and listened. I couldn't hear anything.
“You're imagining things. I can't hear anything,” I said, shrugging and leaning back on the floor. She sat up even straighter than she was before.
“There's someone out there! It...It sounds like a song. I know the tune... but I can't remember its name.”
“Don't be ridiculous. Or maybe... maybe you are right. Maybe there are spirits out there, wailing in the wind, or ghosts, or poltergeists,” I began and Elizabeth shot me the angriest glare I had ever seen in my life. I stopped for a moment and she turned to face me, dismissing the noise she had heard.
“We'll stay here for the night, okay?” She said, and I looked at her for a moment, trying to analyse her. Stay here? With her?
“What do you think, Flynn? Can we trust her?” I said, and Flynn and I simultaneously gave Elizabeth a frightening glare.
“Must you consult the frog over everything?” She asked, with a hint of a groan.
“It's alright Flynn, you can eat her in her sleep,” I said, stroking the top of his head.
“That frog is looking at me like I'm going to kill you and eat you afterwards. If anything happens, it should know that it would be him who'd be first on the menu,” She said, but then she sighed a few moments afterwards. She fished into her bag and retrieved a little section of her rabbit meat. “I'll leave this here and your little frog can feast on the flies like a little Frog Prince.”
“Don't listen to the nasty woman, Flynn. She just thinks I'm a cannibal, or something,” At my statement, Elizabeth tensed up and glared at me. Ooh, have I... hit a nerve? I laughed inwardly. I gave her a triumphant look. “What's up? Scared I might eat you?” At this, I changed my sitting position into a crouch and then I pounced at her like a cat , with my hands in talon shapes, shouting RARR! at her.
After I did this I immediately regretted my actions. I was so caught up in winding her up, that I didn't notice her pull her arm back before punching me square in the face. She then jumped up into a standing position and took a few steps away from me. I stood up too, just so I could be on eye-level with her.
“Don't you ever fucking do that again or I will kill you,” She hissed, her bright eyes wide and her breath ragged. I was now cradling my throbbing face. What the hell had she hit me for? That bloody well hurt!
“I was joking! For God's sake! Why are you so fucking aggressive?!” I yelled back at her. She paused for a moment and diverted her eyes to the dancing firelight.
“I'm...I'm going to go... look around... Just put... put out the fire before you go to sleep. I'll... I'll find my own way back,” She said quietly, her voice slightly shaky and her eyes not meeting mine. I didn't protest and let her walk away into the dark, urban wilderness that surrounded us. Flynn looked at me for a moment but this time, I had nothing to say to him on the matter at hand. Then an idea hit me; she didn't even know my name.
We didn't see Elizabeth again that night. However when we woke up, with black ash from the fire in front of us, she was curled up fast asleep opposite Flynn and I.