Our old man passed away last month. He left us the same day that the apple tree lost its blossom, early and in the morning that seemed colder than the others. I wonder if it was he who had taken the world's heat, for a man as good as he used to be was definitely not worthy of a hurtful death like the one that had ended him. On that day-that day in early spring-he'd collapsed on the floor from a heart attack, and when he had, the last of the sun disappeared behind a dark cloud.
When I think about it, I think that perhaps his ending was one he'd needed. His thin hair had fallen out, he'd stammer so much when he spoke that no one could understand and it'd frustrate him. When he'd serve coffee in his beloved Coffee House, the watered-down liquid always drizzled down the sides of the teacups. I'll never say it aloud, but perhaps his end was his new beginning, and even if it must have been a frightening way to die, it was probably for the best.
Harry hadn't taken it well at first, but then who would? He'd grown up in his old man's arms, learned every trick in the book from him, and to have someone just announce his sudden death like the doctors had done, Harry couldn't have possibly reacted any other way than the way he had.
He'd stormed out of the house, smashing the sign on his leave, and he hadn't returned until the morning after; spending the whole night getting drunk off his arse in the Marilyn Bar by the port.
I don't think he'll ever get over his old man's death; he doesn't know it, but I can hear him cry in his sleep. He gets nightmares, dreams where he'll shout out and cry, and sometimes they get so bad that I have to shake him awake. That makes me wonder, it makes me wonder if what he'd been making me believe this whole time is actually true? Was it possible for a man like Harry to just walk away from his burning family, or was he just ashamed about the fact that he couldn't save them, and had convinced himself that he'd not had the heart to care?
In any case, it's too late. They're gone, the old man is too, and many more will probably leave. Death always conquers life, and it's up to the living to reciprocate gifts in exchange for the good times they had received. However, we won't be here to lay fresh marigolds on our old man's grave, nor will we be here to remember those who've come and gone in this town where we live. You see, we're going on a journey but this time- we won't ever return.
*
Over the sounds of larks in the trees and business men rushing to their meetings, a sweet and serene voice could be heard.
"If I bloody fall in, I'll make sure to drag you down with me!"
"You won't fall.. When have I ever let you down, silly little boy?.."
"Do you honestly want me to answer that?! My skin will decay if it touches salt water for too long, I'm warning you, that's what the plague doctors have been saying."
A single blue eye watched both men on the dock. It observed with a cold, stern gaze that couldn't mean anything other than a harsh judgement. For sure, the Leader of the Steampunks was fighting every fibre of his calm composure, wondering how long it would take him until he'd crack and let out his outburst of anger. A breath left his lips, warm but heartless as he picked up the nearest object around him. Without a word or a change of expression, he flung the metal spanner between the men, listening to it bounce off the edge of the dock and plop as it landed in the water. Both voices stopped, and two surprised faces turned.
That cold blue eye closed for a moment, but when it slowly opened again, it seemed to ooze in rage.
"I'll throw you overboard myself if I have to, just move your arse before we get caught." That dominant voice ordered.
"Yes, Louis." the youngest of the two men, Erin, said as he bowed down. His white hair stroked his shoulders when he bent forward, and it was only then that Louis noticed how long it had grown. Erin stood back up, pale green eyes turning away from his Leader to fall back on the man standing on the deck of the small fishing boat they'd planned to steal. "Don't let me fall, Zayn." He warned again, putting his hand out to grab ahold of the one that was being extended to him.
"I'd never let you fall.." The tired voice replied back. Erin looked up to see that sincere expression across his friend's face and understood how safe he truly was. The hand that held him back was strong, stronger than Zayn appeared to be but then he had been a thug for the biggest part of his life. The man's golden eyes watched Erin behind his blue eyeglass, waiting for his full trust until he managed to guide Erin onboard.
Louis continued to watch from a few feet away where he'd found a barrel to lean against. He would have helped his comrades get their few belongings on the boat, but he'd get tired too easily. He wished that he could be of use because he'd always been down to get his hands dirty but he couldn't any more, not since the incident that had happened ten years back; that incident that'd had labelled him as a 'freak' ever since.
A thump landed on Louis' shoulder and made him jump. A smile quickly crawled over his scarred face when he saw who leant on the barrel with him. A man of pure beauty with copper and golden curls riding down his back, facial hair covering his pale skin, and a row of perfectly aligned teeth shining through his loving smile. He was the man that had created somewhat of a 'fairytale' in this town, told and changed by the children of these streets. He was the beautiful foreign Princess who'd fallen in love with a Beast that had once been a man. Yes, Louis was sure that the beauty beside him was certainly worthy of a story, and he hoped that the one he was in would be passed down for generations to come.
"Wow." Louis breathed out as he watched his lover. The wind blew over the man's face, brushing his hair back as the early morning sun shone in his eyes. "Is everyone ready? The fishermen will be along soon, we have to get going, Harry."
The man turned when he heard his name and stood back up. He looked a little sad, but it was enough for Louis to read what he was thinking. "Your old man?" He asked, and Harry nodded slightly. Louis tilted his head. "He'll always be with you, even if you leave this town and never come back; he'll be with you."
Harry's expression stiffened for a moment but he relaxed and smiled softly. "I wonder if it's sunny up there?" He said, looking up at the sky. Louis looked too, watched those puffy white clouds shift high above them, and wondered if their old man could see them as well.
"I'm sure that it is, Gypsy-boy-the sunniest place in the world."
Harry nodded once more. He seemed at loss with himself and the words he was holding back, his face changing between sadness and repressed feelings of love and mourning. His lips parted as if he were going to confess something, but they closed again when he caught Louis' gaze. Louis waited for a moment, eyes fixed on that resilient expression, wondering if it'd crumble. It didn't, and Harry simple nodded. He pointed towards the small fishing boat, and without any directions, Louis knew that Harry wanted them to leave before he'd have to mourn his old man any longer.
They walked up to the small boat, examining their surroundings as if their life was on the line. The streets of London were busy in the centre and even all the way out by the dock, the sounds of carriages could be heard rolling over brick stones. People wandered the streets, rushing past one another as to not be tardy for work. Men in suits and diamond watches left their mansions, and women brushed their children off to school. The small shops beneath the middle-class houses were starting to prepare for opening, and it was that sign that told the Steamers that their time in this city had run out. They'd have to escape soon, leave everything they ever had behind, and run away before they're run after.
Louis put his hand out to grab the side of the fishing boat and almost fell into the water when he missed. A hand grabbed him back and lifted him up right. "Thank you." He said, looking up at the face of neither a man nor a woman. Hanji stared back, that genderless-face showing slight concern as she guided her Leader's hand to the rail. Louis shot her a sign of appreciation by bowing slightly before pulling himself up. Hanji held him up, making sure he wouldn't fall back by grabbing his arm. Louis skipped up, landing on his left foot, and listening to the heavy prosthetic on his right hit the deck. He looked down. Every time he'd do so, he'd get flashbacks to when he'd see both of his feet. It wasn't much of a memory, but it was something that he'd always miss, in a way. Now, when he'd look down, he'd only see his right foot standing beside a copper-plated prosthetic. He sighed and looked up. The sea was far away, but the port they were in was big enough to give the former steampunks a taste of what awaited them. Small waves lapped at the fishing-boat's hull, looking a murky green up close but sparkling a dazzling blue from afar.
"Your kid's so ugly I could confuse 'im for a hog, that I could!" A loud and slurring voice yelled out from behind Louis. "Keep 'im inside or I'll 'ave him roasted for supper, that I will!"
The commotion started quickly, almost not giving Louis any time to turn around when a bottle of rum was thrown passed him. He dogged it by pure chance and scowled when he saw who was making such a havoc. Standing on the same boat as Louis and leaning over the edge was Liam, the former commander. His back was to Louis and he was clearly making a scene-leaning over the railing and yelling at a shocked mother who had nothing to do but listen to her child be compared to a pig. Louis saw the bottle of half-empty rum in Liam's hand and knew that it wasn't his first of the day, nor was it his second, or third.. The man was a drunk, and even in his most sober state, he still cried the word 'alcoholic'.
Hanji was the first to react, seconded by Zayn as both of them dragged their comrade back from the swarming crowd, ignoring the words that were being retorted in return.
Louis saw the swarm of people gather around and he knew that they had to leave. Their time was already short and the damn commander had cut it to an end. Quickly, Louis counted the number of people on board the little fishing boat. Six, and including himself, seven. His eyes darted over the boxes of tools and possessions they couldn't possibly throw away, then to the men onboard.
"Hands on deck! We're going, now!" He yelled in his broken voice. Everyone scrambled to their feet, knowing what roles they had to play as if they'd been doing this forever. Louis watched Erin pull the ropes, struggling to hoist the sail up until Hanji gave him a hand. Zayn crouched down by the side of the boat, muttering to himself as he rolled the loose ropes around themselves. Harry pinned Liam down, and had the drunk bastard not have shut up, Harry would have certainly knocked him out himself. Niall, the engineer, continued to tinker with the helm of the small fishing boat until he gave Louis a thumbs up sign. Louis nodded back and hurried up to him with a heavy limp that made his balance uneasy on the rocking waves.
"Ready?" He asked, grasping the helm that he had no idea how to use. He glanced one last time at the streets, seeing the people who were screaming at them but only seeing vicious hound dogs in return. That was all he knew, now. Everyone to him was his enemy, just here to drive him away from the place he'd called home, and even if he'd been living with Harry for the past ten years, he had never stopped being an outcast and a beast to them.
"Ready when you are." Niall eventually replied, pulling his aviator goggles on his nose.
It didn't take a second demand for Louis to turn the ship away from the front line. He spun the helm, listening to it crack beneath his fingers, feeling its power and the force it held against the daring waters. A wave of happiness rose up inside of him, perhaps a little too strong for the situation he was in, but it was one that made a sly grin spread across his lips. The wind brushed through his brown hair, blowing the faded white tips over his cheeks and around his neck as the former Steampunks exited the land. The voices behind them were drowned under the sound of water churning below Louis' boat, and for a man who'd once had his voice ripped away from him, it was a damn good sound to hear.
The water started to calm when Louis finally got ahold of his bearings. He analysed the techniques he came up with, and studied the way that it was best to hold the helm. Ahead of him was the strait that lead to those deeper waters and to the nowhere that they'd end up finding. Louis smiled, a dirty grin that showed how much power he was regaining, seemingly mocking beneath the sly blue eye that didn't ever divert off target. He twisted the helm one last time and sped the boat up to its fullest.
"Bite the bullet, people, this is the last you'll see of those townie bastards. We'll find a better place, as sunny as the buttercups in Harry's coat pocket."
*
Hi! I hope you enjoyed this first chapter and will continue to read this book. Please make sure you have read 'Glassy Sky' before continuing this story, thank you.
With all of my love, Lucy xx
Again, if you'd like any of the artworks in this book, just inline comment or direct message me. I'll gladly send any artwork for free providing you don't repost without credit or repost as your own. Thank you.