right then, fine. I suppose…”
He hesitated for a minute then. Did he feel like going back to Silvo? What was back there for him? Nothing much, aside from his friend Nutmeg. Ralph was gone and he didn’t want to return to that job at the graveyard.
He would have to look for work again, but he might not find anything in Silvo. Maybe he might lose his room in that boardinghouse, and then what would he do? Where would he go? It was such a lonely life.
He might wind up on the road again anyway, traveling and searching for work. And if any place was as good as any other, then maybe Dosile would be good for him, and he might as well just go there now.
Beck stood there, watching Tarn and wondering what he was thinking about. The man seemed to be an unusual person from what little Beck knew about him or had witnessed so far. Perhaps extraordinary, the way he had stood up to that bandit Carroll and the Vampiric. But there was so much Beck didn’t know about Tarn, couldn’t guess at, that it seemed impossible to figure him out.
“But what’s waiting for you back in Silvo?” Tarn asked Beck now, changing tact, and honestly, very curious.
It was foolish to hope that Beck might decide to go traveling with him. Beck probably had a better chance at life back in Silvo. He looked like a businessman, after all, bookish, smart, and suave. Why would he bother to risk his life on some foolhardy enterprise?
Beck hesitated, and shook his head. “Nothing much. Just a room, some memories, and a friend. No job or prospects to speak of. No hope for the future.”
That was just the strait that Tarn seemed to be in right now, an uncanny coincidence. Yet he couldn’t help feeling that there was more to it than that.
Tarn walked up to Beck, pointing out into the distance. “And what’s out there? What’s waiting in Dosile or any place else for you?”
Maybe he was pressing the matter too much. Maybe Beck would break, and decide to stay behind in Silvo, anyway.
Beck hesitated and turned around, face-to-face with Tarn now. “The future or some hope for the future, anyway. Far away from where I’ve been and who I’ve been.”
Why was he exposing so much of himself to Tarn, a complete stranger he barely knew? Beck wondered to himself. He never would have done such a thing before, son of a rat catcher that he was. What had changed in him these past couple of days?
That’s exactly the way I feel, too. Tarn thought this to himself, but he didn’t dare say it to Beck, not right now. It seemed too personal in some ways.
Beck stared up into Tarn’s eyes, perhaps sensing some similarity between them. “I want to make something of myself. I really do. Without any remorse or regret. No past or secrets haunting me. I want to be…an adventurer, I suppose.”
Tarn smiled down at Beck, for he had felt the same way at times. “An explorer? A fighter? A seeker of wonders? A marvel to behold? A trail-blazer? With thrills and adventure galore?”
Tarn waved his hand through the air, an exaggerated gesture like he could see it just now. And he could really see it for a moment, Tarn and Beck together, adventurers and explorers. It sounded like the perfect life for him with a friend by his side.
Beck shook his head, thinking Tarn was not taking him seriously. “Oh, you don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like.”
Beck turned away, but Tarn grabbed hold of his arm, solemn. “I do know what it’s like, and it’s not as fun as you think. It can get pretty lonesome sometimes.”
Beck turned back to Tarn, hesitant. He could see that loneliness in Tarn’s eyes, just the same as it was in his eyes, sometimes.
“I just want to travel, that’s all. Get away from home.” Beck said, trying to be reasonable on an irrational matter. “Escape for a while. I don’t know how long I will be gone for. Maybe forever. But would you like to come with me?”
The last part slipped out without Beck even thinking about it, without
He hesitated for a minute then. Did he feel like going back to Silvo? What was back there for him? Nothing much, aside from his friend Nutmeg. Ralph was gone and he didn’t want to return to that job at the graveyard.
He would have to look for work again, but he might not find anything in Silvo. Maybe he might lose his room in that boardinghouse, and then what would he do? Where would he go? It was such a lonely life.
He might wind up on the road again anyway, traveling and searching for work. And if any place was as good as any other, then maybe Dosile would be good for him, and he might as well just go there now.
Beck stood there, watching Tarn and wondering what he was thinking about. The man seemed to be an unusual person from what little Beck knew about him or had witnessed so far. Perhaps extraordinary, the way he had stood up to that bandit Carroll and the Vampiric. But there was so much Beck didn’t know about Tarn, couldn’t guess at, that it seemed impossible to figure him out.
“But what’s waiting for you back in Silvo?” Tarn asked Beck now, changing tact, and honestly, very curious.
It was foolish to hope that Beck might decide to go traveling with him. Beck probably had a better chance at life back in Silvo. He looked like a businessman, after all, bookish, smart, and suave. Why would he bother to risk his life on some foolhardy enterprise?
Beck hesitated, and shook his head. “Nothing much. Just a room, some memories, and a friend. No job or prospects to speak of. No hope for the future.”
That was just the strait that Tarn seemed to be in right now, an uncanny coincidence. Yet he couldn’t help feeling that there was more to it than that.
Tarn walked up to Beck, pointing out into the distance. “And what’s out there? What’s waiting in Dosile or any place else for you?”
Maybe he was pressing the matter too much. Maybe Beck would break, and decide to stay behind in Silvo, anyway.
Beck hesitated and turned around, face-to-face with Tarn now. “The future or some hope for the future, anyway. Far away from where I’ve been and who I’ve been.”
Why was he exposing so much of himself to Tarn, a complete stranger he barely knew? Beck wondered to himself. He never would have done such a thing before, son of a rat catcher that he was. What had changed in him these past couple of days?
That’s exactly the way I feel, too. Tarn thought this to himself, but he didn’t dare say it to Beck, not right now. It seemed too personal in some ways.
Beck stared up into Tarn’s eyes, perhaps sensing some similarity between them. “I want to make something of myself. I really do. Without any remorse or regret. No past or secrets haunting me. I want to be…an adventurer, I suppose.”
Tarn smiled down at Beck, for he had felt the same way at times. “An explorer? A fighter? A seeker of wonders? A marvel to behold? A trail-blazer? With thrills and adventure galore?”
Tarn waved his hand through the air, an exaggerated gesture like he could see it just now. And he could really see it for a moment, Tarn and Beck together, adventurers and explorers. It sounded like the perfect life for him with a friend by his side.
Beck shook his head, thinking Tarn was not taking him seriously. “Oh, you don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like.”
Beck turned away, but Tarn grabbed hold of his arm, solemn. “I do know what it’s like, and it’s not as fun as you think. It can get pretty lonesome sometimes.”
Beck turned back to Tarn, hesitant. He could see that loneliness in Tarn’s eyes, just the same as it was in his eyes, sometimes.
“I just want to travel, that’s all. Get away from home.” Beck said, trying to be reasonable on an irrational matter. “Escape for a while. I don’t know how long I will be gone for. Maybe forever. But would you like to come with me?”
The last part slipped out without Beck even thinking about it, without
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