La Mort et ses Merveilles
Chapter 9: The Bad Boy is Socially Awkward
Leslie didn't need to stick around after my ankle healed, but he still did. I was fine by my own working on whatever that needs to be done, but he'd pop it from time to time. It's almost as if he wanted to spend time with me. I didn't mind, but he came off as a little weird, eccentric even. Today was one of those days.
"You know," I said, as Leslie walked up to me, plank of plywood in hand. "I could do this myself. You didn't need to do that."
"Well," he replied with a wry smile on his lips. "But I like helping you."
Taking out my trusty hammer, I hit a nail into the panel, attaching it to the ragtag barrier of metal sheets and wood. I was on maintenance duty in the Yard, and I was trying to reinforce the far end of the barrier which hadn't been built as sturdily as the rest of the walls due to the hasty nature it was put up. The people in the Yard sort of delayed its proper construction, probably because from what I've heard ever since they started moving here they never once saw a zombie. I guess the convent's location surrounded by woods and vast meadows helped. From what I observed, the dead seemed to like to congregate in the towns and busy roads. Sometimes one or two would wander off into the countryside, but that wasn't as common. But it wasn't necessarily rare either.
The young man leaned against the wall of a caravan, folding his arms.
"Don't you have anything better to do?" I said, slightly irritated. "Some other things to take care of? Anything else at all?"
The young man let out a slight chuckle.
"I do what I want," he said. "And what I want is to be here with you."
I shot him an annoyed glare, to which he responded with a boyish grin. A mischievous sparkle gleamed in his blue eyes as he tilted his head to the side. Sighing, I turned around and continued hammering away.
"You know," he said. "If you really didn't like me here that much you would have told me to go already."
"I'm trying to work here Leslie," I muttered under my breath through gritted teeth.
The young man only laughed.
But what he said did strike a chord though, somewhere deep within me. Sure, he was irritating and a bit weird to be around with but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I somewhat did enjoy his company. With him being there, he was the only thing my mind could think about.
The next thing I knew, I was reeling back in pain. Hissing as I held my thumb, I could feel it throbbing. The part of my fingernail I hit was reddened, and a small clot of black had begun to form at the site of the impact. It hurt, but lucky for me it could've been worse.
"You alright?" he asked as he rushed up to me.
"Yeah," I muttered, still a bit dazed from what happened. "It's nothing."
Without even asking, he grabbed my hand and examined my thumb. It didn't hurt or anything, just a numb sensation and the slight bruising.
"You sure about that?" he said, his eyebrows frowning as he finally let go of my hand.
I only nodded with a smile. Well, Leslie may be a jerk at times but he seemed to genuinely care for me, so I didn't mind him being around.
"Why don't you just go ahead and rest," he told me, as he took the hammer from my right hand. "Don't want you getting hurt again."
"It's fine, really," I said, as I tried to refuse.
"Just go stand in the corner kid," he replied, a slight grin on his lips.
I did as I was told, but I couldn't help but feel a little grateful. Leslie had been nothing but nice to me. Sure, he was always there and he followed me around to the point that it got a little awkward at times, but I couldn't imagine it any other way. He was almost like a dog in a way, like a little poodle wagging its tail following me around. But Leslie couldn't be a poodle, with his size I'd say he was a German Shepherd. Maybe a Golden Retriever.
"What are you smiling to yourself about?" Leslie said as he turned around, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
I couldn't help but feel the heat flush over my cheeks. I was probably bright red at that point. I felt like I was caught doing something embarrassing, felt like he, for some reason read my mind.
He had a puzzled look on his face as he bit his lip, his eyes seemingly stabbing through me. I averted my gaze and looked at the ground, making circles in the dirt with my foot. My heart was thumping in my chest. The young man probably shrugged it off sooner or later, since I heard the hammering resume not too long after. But the questions just came flooding in.
Why was I so nervous? Why was my heart beating so fast? It's just Leslie, the weird, eccentric manchild that's kind of socially awkward and pisses in diet mountain dew bottles. It's just the young man with a boyish smile and a unique taste in music. It's just the guy who's being really nice and helpful to me with no other reason other than that he was trying to be a better person and make up for what he did. There was nothing else to it. No, Jason, everything's fine.
The young man walked up to me once he was done. He handed the hammer over to me, which I accepted without a word.
"You know," he said, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. "I was thinking we could hang out. . . you know? Maybe come to my room for a bit? I kinda miss having you there."
I gulped. Running my hand through my hair, I looked away. I was already so confused to why I was acting up around him, being with him for a bit more would've probably given me a migraine.
"Actually," I said, finally looking up at him. "I was thinking of visiting Cass's house with Isabella. She and Cass's sister are friends, so I thought it'd be nice if they spent more time together."
"Oh," the young man replied, chuckling awkwardly. "Forget I asked then."
"Y-You could come with us," I blurted out.
I bit my tongue. I couldn't believe I just said that without thinking. I was supposed to get some time away from him, but here I was asking him to tag along. Yet in my defence, it was sort of a reflex, and I did it mostly because I didn't want him to feel bad and left out. He never seemed to talk much to anyone else in the compound anyway, from what I observed. Or maybe it was because he just spent most of his time with me that he had no time for other people. A small part of me felt bad for wanting to leave him, but I needed my space. And besides, he made me feel quite uncomfortable, but not in a disgusted way. From time to time when I was with him, I'd just slip into uneasiness. I don't really know how to describe it. I've never felt that way towards anyone before.
"Well, uh, no thanks," the young man said, scratching the back of his head. "I don't think I know them that well, and besides, I've got lots of work to do."
I watched him as he walked off, headed back towards the convent. Didn't he just invite me to his room to listen to music? Yet here he was suddenly saying that he had work. I wonder where did all the extra work suddenly appear from. Almost like it materialised out of thin air. Once he was out of sight, I made my way to the main kitchen. Josephine was on kitchen duty that day, and by extension, so was Isabella.
My little sister was busy at work, chopping celery stalks on the countertop. The moment I told her I was going to take her to bring Ashley, her face lit up. She turned to Josephine, who was busy straining pasta into the colander.
"Well," the young woman said. "You've been helping out all day. Go ahead."
A smile on her face, I left with Isabella and headed back to the Yard. The Yard was like its own little village. There were tents, campers and caravans littered sporadically around the compound. In the middle of the whole compound was the well, and a stone's throw away was a seating area. There were some large tents to the side serving as a field kitchen. I didn't really know how things worked in the Yard save for the fact that they mostly ran their stuff independently of the convent. I wasn't too sure about how everything was run and to be honest I wasn't really interested either. I just wanted a safe space for my little sister that's all, a place where she could lead a somewhat normal life. And to be honest, I was kind of enjoying staying there too.
Cass's caravan was just a bit north of the field kitchen area. It had a blue door, just like what she said. The only one in the entire Yard, so it wasn't very hard to miss. To the front of the caravan was a little yard with a few foldable tables and chairs, as well as an outdoor grill, while to the side of the vehicle there was a small garden with a few raised beds. I spotted the girl there, in her chequered plaid shirt and her waist high jeans. Her hair tied back, she squatted down as she pulled out some weeds growing by the foot of a tomato plant.
"Hey," I called out, standing awkwardly just by the side of her yard. "I thought we'd drop by."
Cass turned around, and her lips broke out into a smile.
"Ashley!" she called out. "Look who came to visit!"
In the window of the camper I could see the blonde head of the younger sister pop out, before she disappeared again. A few moments later, the girl appeared at the door, a bright smile on her face. Waving at her, the young girl beckoned Isabella in. My sister looked up at me, her bright eyes begging me to let her go.
"Go ahead," I told her, patting her on the shoulder. "I'll be sticking around with Cass if you need me."
Isabella ran ahead into the caravan, excited to spend time with her friend. It was nice to see her finally living a somewhat normal life I guess. Cass had stood up, and walked up to me. The sunlight gleamed off her silky brown hair, as she untied it and let it down to her shoulders.
"Nice garden you got here," I remarked.
"Thanks," she replied, walking past me towards the front of the caravan. "Mom and I worked on it."
As she was about to step back into the camper, she shot me a bemused look.
"Well what are you standing around for?" she asked with a slight giggle. "Take a seat."
Feeling the heat flush to my face, I sat down at one of the foldable tables in her front yard without a word. It was a warm summer day, the sun bright in the sky against a cloudless canvas of clear blue. The girl came out with two glasses and placed it on the table.
"It's an isotonic drink," she said. "You know, those in the sachets? I love them."
"Thanks," I muttered as I grabbed the one nearest to me.
"So," Cass began. "What do you think of this place?"
"It's great, I guess," I replied after taking a sip from the sweet yet slightly salty drink. "Well, better than anything out there at least."
"I have to agree," the girl said as she leaned back into the chair. "At least it's safe here, especially for the kids."
There was a short moment of silence as we drank from our glasses.
"So how did you end up here?" Cass asked, her hair falling as she tilted her pretty head.
"We were travelling from town to town and we ended up in Hannelore," I told her. "Where we just happened to stumble upon the relief mission. And thank God we did, because earlier I was bitten by a rabid fox, and I thought for sure if I didn't get any rabies shots I was going to die. So at first I was planning to just stay for a short while, but seeing Isabella so happy here. . .I thought why not?"
"You must've been very lucky to have come at the right place and the right time," the girl commented. "It must've been fate."
"Yeah," I said rather awkwardly, settling into my seat.
I had a rather nice chat with the girl for a while. It was nice to talk to someone new for a change. At the very least it was a break from Leslie's overbearing presence. Cass was a pretty talkative girl, so I let her talk for the most part, with me just nodding or grunting as I sipped my drink. She told me about where she went to high school, that she used to live in a small house by the edge of town. They came to the convent because they heard that a community was starting to form here. Cass told me about how she liked gardening. I could only nod.
But I was thinking of Leslie. I couldn't help but picture his dejected face and his sad eyes when I had rejected him earlier. Was I too harsh? Maybe I've hurt his feelings? Sure, he maybe a bit overbearing at times, but he was always very nice. The way he rushed up to me when I hurt myself, how he held my hand there trying to make sure I was alright, he's treated me with nothing but kindness. Surely I could've just tolerated him? Maybe I shouldn't have pushed him away like that?
"I saw you at the barrier earlier," the young woman said. "The guy with you was. . .Leslie, right? Isn't he the guy who's kind of in charge of the things in the convent?"
"Yeah," I replied. "What about him?"
"You're close to him?" she asked.
I gulped. Not only did the thought of him keep pestering me in my head, now he was the subject of the conversation as well.
"Eh, not really," I lied. "He just keeps following me around, that's all. It's a bit irritating actually. I wish he'd just go away."
I trailed off with a nervous chuckle.
"Oh, I see," she replied. "It's just that I've been hearing lots of things being said about him lately, that he's a psychopath and is very violent and has no place being so influential in the convent. I don't really know if I could believe it or not, but I don't know."
I raised an eyebrow. From what I've been told, nobody outside of him, Josephine, Isabella and I knew about what he did outside the convent. Either there were also others in the know, or someone was starting a wild rumour about him, that just happened to actually be true. I had to ask Cass to tell me more.
"Really?" I said, feigning surprise. "Who would say something like that? You know anyone in particular that has been talking about it?"
The young woman fell silent, her hand rubbing her chin in contemplation.
"Now that I think of it, there seemed to be one particular sister that always talked about him," she finally said after a while. "There's this one sister Rosanne. She mentioned it once or twice to me at the laundry area, saying that the guy's dangerous and deranged. Some of the neighbours told me they heard the same thing."
I only nodded as I took another sip from the glass.
That evening at dinner, Leslie was nowhere to be found. I wondered where he was. Maybe he was busy. Maybe he was sitting in his room listening to music. Maybe he just wasn't hungry. I tried to laugh the thought of him off and get him out of my head. Besides, I was tired of constantly thinking about him, but I couldn't help it.
"Have you seen Leslie?" I asked Josephine as I walked up to her table, seating myself opposite her and my sister. "He doesn't usually skip dinnertime does he?"
"Not recently," the young woman replied. "But I won't get too worried if I were you, it's not the first time he's done this. Sometimes he has work to do. Sometimes he's tired. No big deal."
I tried not to think of it as I ate my pasta, but the thought of him was just nagging away at the back of my mind.
Isabella was chatting happily about what she did with Ashley earlier. They played some board games on the camper and Ashley showed her around the garden. She was chirping about how Ashley was one of the few people she had met in a while of her age, and it was getting boring just following Josephine around. I smiled, but I couldn't help but feel a tinge of sadness in my heart. It was really tragic what this world had come to, but at least even if it was just for the past couple months I was glad Isabella got to be a child again. Even if things can never return to the way things were.
"Anyway," Josephine said as she took out a ring of keys from her pocket and placed it on the table. "I want you to have these."
I frowned, looking up at her in slight bewilderment.
"Spare keys for the infirmary wing," she said, as I took them. "I thought that since you're pretty much going in and out of the infirmary doing inventory all the time you might as well have the spare keys. Besides, if I'm not available at least you'll be able to access it without waiting for me."
"Sure," I muttered, as I twirled my fork to get myself another mouthful of pasta. "Thanks."
That evening after cleaning up, I decided to pay a visit to Leslie's room, down on the first floor just by the bell tower. I just felt that he had to know about what was going on, that a certain Rosanne was going about spreading rumours and causing trouble. On my way, I thought about what I had to say to him. Should I apologise? Should I tell him that I shouldn't have pushed him away like that? That I didn't mean to hurt him? Was I really going to visit him to talk about the rumours, or was that merely an excuse? I wasn't even sure if he was even hurt by what I did, yet here I was, fretting my head off. Honestly I didn't know what to do.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the knob and peeked inside. I was greeted with the sound of heavy guitar coming from the CD player, and the young man seated at the edge of his bed. His brown hair messy and tussled, he buried his face in his palms.
"Clara, I told you I'm fine," he said, his voice cracking.
He looked up, and greeted with me widened, reddened eyes. They were puffy and bloodshot, and he immediately cleared his throat, frantically rubbing his eyes with his knuckles
"Oh, J-Jason," he stuttered, his thin lips twitching into a forced, awkward smile. "Did you need anything?"
Reaching out to his CD player, he stabbed at the play button with his index finger. A heavy silence immediately fell as the background music ceased.
"Are you alright?" I asked, feeling really guilty as I went up to him and sat at his bed. "You don't seem to good."
"I'm fine," he replied as he plopped himself back on his bed. "Really."
I raised my eyebrow as I looked straight into his swollen, sunken eyes.
"Actually," I said, shaking myself out of it. "I uh, came here to talk about something I heard."
"What is it?" the young man replied, sniffing.
"There's this Rosanne. . ." I began. "Cass told me she's been going around smearing you, telling people that you're a violent psychopath and I'm not sure if people believe it or not, but I wanted you to know. So that you can deal with her, you know?"
I watched as Leslie's broad shoulders fell. He turned to look at me with his troubled blue eyes.
"But it's true isn't it?" he said, his gaze shying away. "That I'm a violent, psychopathic, good-for-nothing waster."
"Hey," I said gently. "Don't say that."
Without me noticing, I had reached out and placed my hand on his thigh. The young man fluttered his puffy eyes awkwardly, looking down at my hand. Finally realising what I'd done, I quickly pulled my hand back. I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks, my heart thumping in my chest.
"I'll deal with it tomorrow," Leslie said, averting my gaze. "Clara and I will work something out. That Rosanne had always been like that."
The both of us were silent for a while, until I finally decided to go and address the elephant in the room. Leslie seemed to realise it too.
"Look I'm sorry," I told him. "I didn't mean to push you away like that. I just wanted to spend some time with Cass that's all."
"Hey, no worries," he answered with a deep sigh. "It's not your fault. It's nothing to do with you."
"I didn't mean to hurt you," I said. "I just wanted to apologise."
"The young man sighed.
"It's just that things finally caught up to me again," he mentioned as he leaned back. "When I was spending time with you, you just made me forget everything. I know it's ridiculous, but when you left me alone today I was thinking about how everyone always leaves me. And that kicked it off I guess."
"You could always talk to me you know?" I offered. "I'm here for you."
"Really?" the young man said, an almost hopeful tone in his voice.
I only nodded, grinning somewhat awkwardly. I knew he had a lot of issues, but I wasn't going to bring them up unless he was the one who told me about it first. I didn't want to dig up unpleasant memories. With his boyish smile and teary eyes, he almost seemed harmless. But there was a storm brewing in his deep blue eyes. Those eyes that were filled with so much pain.
In the corner of my eye I noticed the young man shifting closer, our knees were touching at that point. I couldn't help but gulp, my heart racing.
"If I could do anything to help," I said, trying not to my voice sound too shaky. "Let me know what I can do."
An awkward grin curling up from the corner of his lips, he averted his gaze just for a brief moment before meeting mine again.
"Actually," he muttered, his right hand picking away at his scruffy chin. "There's one small thing I'd like to ask from you."
Moving closer, he looked directly into me with those sad, sad eyes of his. The puffy, swollen eyes of someone so sorely misunderstood. The empty, deep blue eyes of a boy who had gone through so much. Fluttering his pretty eyes, he parted his thin lips, ready to speak again. Ready for his words to be heard by the only pair of ears within these walls that were willing to listen.
"Won't you stay the night?" he proposed with a sad, boyish grin.
"Please."