Just a few steps away from them, an imposing old man with a long beard and well-defined muscles was walking towards Ged and Brandon.
His posture signaled that he was in a hurry, but upon seeing the two boys, he slowed down to a halt.
"Oh, hello, boys. I'm glad to see you two here. Is the reverend inside?" the old man spoke.
Brandon started to reply, "You mean Dad? He should be on his..." but he was cut off by a loud voice coming from behind.
"Ralph?" Reverend Large gave a light chuckle before continuing, "What business does the big boss man have, for him to bless us with his presence on this fine day?"
"Reverend! It's great to see you in good spirits. I only have a small matter for you to help me with," Ralph responded pleasantly.
"No problem at all. However, the timing is a little poor. Would you please excuse me for a moment? I just have this nagging errand I need to account for; afterwards, I'm all ears," Reverend Large responded, his arms crossed over his chest, smiling as he spoke.
"An errand? Alright then. The boys here can keep me company. Do run along now," Ralph replied, clearly puzzled by the reverend's hasty departure.
"Ah! I really must be going as well," Brandon exclaimed, quickly trying to back away from Ralph. He pulled Ged's arm, signaling him to follow.
Ged looked quizzically at Brandon trying to wrest his arm away.
"I see. Well, how about you, boy? Are you willing to give this old man company?" Ralph spoke, looking towards Ged with a soft expression.
"Unfortunately, he must be going as well... We have training to do," Brandon spoke, shaking his head apologetically. "Come on, Ged, let's go."
Ralph shot a deathly stare towards the mischievous Brandon, flexing his muscles and creating a dense feeling of pressure that spread out, immobilizing Brandon in place.
Ralph relaxed and turned towards Ged with a smile, speaking gently, "So your name is Ged? I don't remember seeing you around in this part of town before. Where do you hail from?"
"I'm not from this town; I-I came from the farms," Ged spoke cautiously.
Ralph, alarmed by Ged's fearful posture, knelt down so that he was level with Ged, face to face. "There's no need to be afraid," Ralph shook his head, comforting Ged by rubbing his shoulder. "You must be from the first wave of immigrants that just arrived here. As the mayor here, I assure you everyone in Shark Village welcomes you."
Ralph stopped rubbing Ged's shoulder and vaulting up to a standing position, continuing, "Now, how did you end up so far away from home? This cluster of homes is a full 5 kilometers away from the town's center."
"He was talking to dead people," Brandon chimed in.
Ralph stared bitterly at Brandon, clearly unhappy with his unprompted comment.
"I left to look for someone to help my sister and I get water for our home," Ged finally responded.
Ralph looked thoughtfully at Ged before speaking, "Your house doesn't have any water?" He clenched his fist in anger. "That bastard George said he already took care of the bloody thing."
He continued assuredly, "Ged, do not worry. I'll make sure that gets fixed immediately."
"Here, I'll even make it up to you. You two said you are on your way out to go exercising?"
Ralph stood tall, his chest puffed out and shoulders back, exuding an air of confidence and pride. With a warm smile, he continued, "How does it sound to train with the strongest man in Shark Village?"
Crossing his arms in defiance, Brandon spoke, "No one wants to train with some weak old ghost. Don't get too cocky of yourself."
Ralph gave a crooked smile, giving Brandon a light smack on the head. "How about you, Ged? Do you want to train with this old man?" Ralph spoke, still a little irritated.
Ged smiled and agreed with a nod.
"Good, good," spoke Ralph, clasping his hands together. "I'm a busy man. How about we set this up for another time? Here, give me your fighter card; I'll give you my contact info," Ralph said, lightening up, now in a more cheerful mood.
After exchanging contact information, Brandon couldn't hold himself much longer, speaking impatiently, "Mr. Ralph, we really do have to go. We can't stay any longer."
Ralph sighed at the insistent Brandon, giving in to his antics. "Well, I guess I'll have to wait patiently beside myself then," he said, smiling wryly and looking warmly toward a still-smiling Ged.
Brandon dragged the slow Ged as they made their way through the village back to the clearing where Brandon and Ged first met.
"Ugh, that Ralph is always so annoying; once he gets going, he never shuts up," an irritated Brandon spoke, now some distance away.
"I didn't think he was that bad; he seemed nice," Ged replied.
"Nah, he's a poofter. My Dad warned me not to be around him for long periods of time under any circumstances," Brandon spoke warily.
Puzzled, Ged asked, "Poofter? What does that mean?"
Brandon paused, thinking carefully for a moment, before saying, "I have no idea. Probably nothing good though."
***
Inside a small, unassuming grocery store stood a man, his face marred with charcoal-black burn scars. In his basket were a few root-like plants, a bag of salt, a bottle of milk, and a slab of bread. He approached an elderly man standing behind the register.
"Ernie?" the bandaged man spoke.
Ernie squinted at the disheveled figure before his eyes gradually readjusted to normal. "It can't be. Ross? To see you again after 25 years doesn't feel real; I never thought you'd come back."
Ross smiled, a nostalgic grin playing on his lips as he handed his fighter card over to Ernie to use as payment. "It's weird to be back. I just visited the arena for the first time in years. It was surreal fighting again."
"Fighting in the arena is a bit odd." Ernie chuckled beginning to tally the price for the items, "well... did you win?"
"Of course! Just look at these spoils," Ross said, grinning and gesturing at his groceries.
He sighed. "Gosh, Ernie, we've gotten old."
"I remember you as a kid. You were always standing by the ocean, gazing out at the waves," he chuckled, continuing, "You stood out there so often your mother was worried that your head had gotten funny."
Ernie gave a quiet smile. "I've always loved the ocean waves, the way they crash on the shore, the sound they make. It's always been a favorite escape of mine."
"Recently, I went out there and looked out at the waves just like old times, but when I went out and stood on the sandy beach it was different; the ocean changed."
Ernie handed back the fighter card to Ross before continuing, "Not even the ocean is the same as it used to be."
Ross smiled politely, grabbing his things together, "I see... Well thanks for the groceries, Ernie."
moving towards the door Ernie finally piped up again in a foreboding tone, "Watch your back out there, Ross. It's a dangerous world."
As Ross walked out onto the street, the sun was still out, though it was slowly dipping below the horizon. Outside the shop doors, groups of people were gathered, throwing dice onto the sidewalk pavement.
In a brief exchange of eye contact with one of the members playing, Ross muttered underneath his breath, "Jules." A cold chill went through his body. He silently prayed, averting his eyes to the road, trying to leave the shop front without alerting the man playing dice.
This was to no avail as three men stopped what they were doing and quickly caught up to the slowly fleeing Ross.
"Ross?" A sharp snake like voice called from behind. "You've finally come back home and you haven't had the time to catch up with an old friend?"
Ross turned around slowly to see a smiling, older man with a medium build, a crooked nose, missing front teeth, and long curly hair.
"Jules! It's nice to see yo-," Ross attempted to speak, however, as quick as lightning, Jules kicked Ross straight in the crotch, dropping him to the floor.
His groceries fell from his hands, scattering across the floor. Another sharp kick came towards the cowering Ross, this one aimed at his neck.
Ross began gasping for air.
"Twenty-five years away from home, away from your family, and yet not a single visit or even just a postcard? What a pitiable sack of shit you are," Jules spoke viciously.
"I... was... in prison," Ross struggled to say, now holding his neck on the ground in pain.
Jules pointed at Ross and signaled towards the two men beside Jules. They then moved beside Ross, holding him up so that he was now on his feet in front of Jules.
A small crowd of people had now gathered, blocking passersby from looking in, watching soullessly at the display of violence happening in the center.
Jules dished out more vicious attacks, sending punches and kicks towards the miserable Ross. After a bit of abuse, the two men dropped Ross to the floor again.
Jules crouched to the floor, getting closer to the barely breathing Ross. "5 years in prison, Ross, not 25 years." He calmly spoke.
"I know you got out early, 20 years ago in fact."
Jules stared disparagingly at Ross. "Did you know Ross when you got sent to prison, the town was in shambles?"
"I remember it vividly."
"The town rioted for years just for your release. Several people died just from those protests alone." A dark expression appeared on Jules' face.
"WE all wanted you out. WE all thought it was bullshit that you got sent to prison in the first place; that government bastard you killed deserved death. WE wanted you back HOME, not in that HELL."
Jules vaulted back up onto his feet, his voice dripping with contempt.
"But you snitched."
"You couldn't keep your mouth shut."
"Because of your words Angus, Harold, Jeremy, and even little Eustice from the north gang are all dead."
"20 years of a government farming contract over your own family!?!"
"How can you sleep at night?"
Jules sent a kick straight to Ross' ribs.
"The government better have treated you well, fed you three meals a day, bathed, and pampered you."
"For fucks sake, Ross, I heard you even have two kids now," Jules spat at Ross.
"Meanwhile, we struggled for meals, fought with the government, fought with the beavers, all just to live another day in this cruel world."
"I'm... Sor-GHH" Ross tried to speak but Jules stuck his foot in his mouth.
"Don't talk, you disgusting prick," Jules shook his head, thinking deeply for a moment.
"It seems you like taking extra chances at life. How about taking one more? After letting off some steam, I'm actually feeling pretty good right now..."
Jules walked over to Ross, holding up his drooped chin, continuing, "Ross, you're weak."
"It really doesn't matter to me whether you live or die; however, Geed did put a bounty on your head for 50 fit. How about using that head of yours in a bet?"
Jules dropped his chin, pacing around, before continuing. "How about it?"
"If you can 'pass' in a game of dice, you'll get to keep your head, and I'm a fair man; I'll even throw in 50 fit for your troubles."
Jules held a handful of money in his hands, gesturing it toyingly in front of Ross.
"However, if you lose, I'll be taking your miserable head home with me. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
Ross, barely conscious, didn't answer initially.
After a moment's time he finally craning his slumped neck towards the domineering Jules, speaking weakly, "How do I play?"
"I knew you would be a fan of my idea. Barney, would you care to explain the rules?" Jules spoke sardonically.
One of the younger men beside Ross spoke up, "Whoever's playing rolls the dice. If the first roll is a 7 or 11, you win. However, if it's 2, 3, or 12 its your loss. If the player rolls any other number, that number becomes the 'point.' The player has to roll that number again before rolling a 7 to win. If a 7 is rolled before the point, however, the player loses. The loser forfeits their bet to the winner."
Jules said, "Sound fun?" He handed a pair of dice over to the now kneeling Ross. "Go ahead, shooter."
Ross held the dice between his hands, shaking vigorously, unsure whether he wanted to win or lose. Without any thought, he threw the dice towards the pavement.
The dice rolled onto 1, 5.
"Easy Six," the third unnamed gangster announced, crouching to the floor to pick up the loose dice.
Ross thought back to his farming days, remembering the simple times. In his mind, he understood that he had left his previous life behind for a temporary 20 year distraction and was now paying dearly for it.
The third man handed the dice back over to Ross.
Ross shook and threw the dice again; they hit the pavement, bouncing around several times before slowing down again, rolling to 4, 4.
"Hard Eight," the third man shouted again, repeating the same routine and picking up the dice.
Ross went into a dream. He stood near the ocean, hearing the calming sounds of waves crashing. Standing at the edge of the beach he looked out at the horizon at a beautiful sunset.
The third man handed the dice back over to Ross. Ross held the dice, shaking them around fiercely in his palms before tossing them out again.
The dice hit the pavement, finally rolling to a stop at 3, 3.
"Hard Six," the third man announced.
There was a quiet air after his announcement.
Jules frowned before finally breaking the silence with, "Looks like you're a lucky man, Ross. You got another chance at life, and you've doubled your wealth on top of that."
"Barney, Jimmy, give our lucky winner some space to celebrate."
Jules continued, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Also, Barney, go help pick up that poor man's groceries, for fuck's sake; a man's gotta eat."
Barney, clearly displeased with his orders, slowly gathered the pieces of glass and spoiled dirty food, placing the bag in front of Ross' slumped body.
Jules turned around, facing the crowd.
"Why are you sick bastards still here? Leave this poor man be. Don't you guys have anything better to do?" Jules yelled out, as the crowd made way for the three men.
Ross stumbled to his feet, holding onto his grocery bag, staring at the back of the retreating Jules.
Jules stopped in place, a mocking smile appearing wide on his face. "You must be wondering about your money? Don't worry, I would never go back on my word."
"It pains me, really, since I really don't like giving money to rats, but I guess I have no choice," Jules said, laughing.
He then turned to the people on the street, announcing, "Any person who kills this man after today will receive 100 fit, 50 from me, 50 from Geed."
Ross's mind snapped at Jules' proclamation. He felt utterly humiliated, surrounded by the familiar and unfamiliar faces of the villagers, people he grew up with. To be dressed down in such a way went beyond infuriating; it was an abyssal chasm so deep and wide that anger didn't exist; only eternal stillness and sensory deprivation. He stood still, wilting in place like a blade of grass in a drought.
In Ross' dream, he could still hear the sounds of the ocean. However, as he looked out to gaze upon its waves, the ocean appeared gone, obsolete when compared to his grim future.
Ross attempted to walk away from the crowd, his posture slumped. Quickly, he tried to leave the group of people and get to the safety of his home.
A few greedy hands reached out from the crowd, aiming to claim his head and reap its reward. In no shape to protect himself, he was at the complete mercy of the bystanders.
However, just as a hand was within reach of him...
Crack.
A sharp cracking sound came from a man not too far away from Ross.
Jules had sprung into action breaking the man's arm, "Don't be too hasty, I just spared this man's life. Give a man some face; let him at least wash up."
The man held his arm giving out painful bellows. Ross took the opportunity that Jules gave him and limped away from the crowd of people, on his way back home.
***
A bit of time had passed, and the trio of Jules, Jimmy, and Barney were once again crouching near the shops, playing dice.
"Sheesh, Jules, why didn't you just kill the poor man?" Jimmy asked, his hands poised to toss the dice for another round.
"For 50 fit? I couldn't even buy breakfast with that kind of money," Jules spoke lazily, shaking his head. "Ross used to be such hot shit back in the day. Looking at him today filled me with pity and rage."
"He's just some small sheep now, considering that he's back in this hellhole; it shows how little of use he is for the government," Jules spoke crudely.
"Also, don't forget we still have big plans to take care of," he continued seriously.
"Can I go and kill him? I could really use the 100 fit," Barney chimed in.
"Fuck off Barney. You still owe me 300 fit; I ain't paying you dick if you kill that bum." Jules said angrily.