Kapitel 31: The Pain of the Truth
The boy felt two pair of eyes that weren't his grandpappys drawn on him; Leslie and Grotknot turned away then stood and left the caboose, leaving only them alone with the sounds of iron on rails.
"I don't know how to say this in a matter that makes it's easy; You're a man now, so best I shot it straight." He took a deep breath. "Ma Jean has taken a ride into the Prairie lands."
Boome felt like his chest had been hit by a mallet; he gasped, feeling an ache pulse beneath his skin and work towards his throat. He held back the noise that wanted to escape and the tears that wanted to fall.
"What happened?" His voice trembled, "What happened to her, Pappy? Did the illness take her?"
Jerocobish nodded, "It took her," his lip quivered. "It took her as swift as death could be. There was no stopping it, Son—"
"The doctor," Boone said, "you were supposed to find the doctor! Isn't that right? But you didn't, you couldn't."
"There were a lot of people at the event...He would've been hard to find even with the keenest pair of eyes—"
"Yet you found your friend." It was like he'd been struck by lightning; a memory of who the man was, and where he'd seen him came to his head. "The Iron Alchemist — Jostice Beatpost. You found him yet you couldn't find the doctor, is that correct?" The boy clenched his teeth. "And what good would man of the Colosseum be? All he knows is death…
"That will be about enough…"
"Did you use him to put Ma Jean out of her missery?"
"I said that'll be about enough!" Jerocobish stood to his feet. "This was nobody's fault. Your Grandma was very sick and she could not overcome it—"
"Ma Jean could overcome anything. She was strong, she was a fighter. You've always been the weak one." Tears rolled from his eyes. "You must've given up on her...just like you gave up on my father." Boone pushed past the the older man walking in the direction Rynan had gone; towards the back of the caboose.
"Boone," his grandpappy said, "Boone, we are not finished here!"
They pushed through the back door; the wind caught him as he leapt to the next cart, hands trembling at his side. He wiped his face, I'll never forgive him for it. All he ever did was smoke tabacci and read his books. He choked, Never there to help her...Always there to help himself.
The next cart over was packed with passengers who watched him as he walked down the isle; dressed in dapper suits and lavish gowns; wearing bonnets that wrapped around their heads and large brimmed hats that stood tall and round, tied with bow ties.
"Where is your sister, Tonsi?" One man grumbled, he had a stash and a round hat.
"Calm down Weebert." A curly hair woman with a pruned face said, patting him with a gloved hand. "I'm sure she'll turn up soon enough."
"She better…"
Boone saw that the caboose was filled with people of upper class. Pompies, he thought, looking over his shoulder at a woman with a large, furry bun on her hat. The lot of them—
The boy collided with something, stumbling forward; He grunted, turning his head, and pushing off the person. A young girl, not much older than he, fell towards the ground; Boone reached his arms out grabbing hold of a thick, soft leathery material; He yank, pulling her into his arms.
"My apologies!" Boone said, standing her upright and brushing her off.
The girl giggled, fixing her buck-hide gown and the strands of hide and beads hanging from her chest and around the bottom of her skirt. "Nothing to be sorry about," she giggled again, "I took a step into the aisle unaware of your presence." She brushed her thick, raven-black hair with her fingers, putting loose strands back into place.
Boone's mouth dropped; the sunlight reflected off her chestnut skin, making her body glow, and earthy-sand eyes twinkle. She smelt of northern pines, where the lands were native to all but her kind.
"You're safe now," he garbled, unsure what he meant by the words.
"Oh? Safe from whom?"
Boone scratched the back of his head, underneath his hat. "The ground?"
The girl looked down at her feet that were covered in strange hide shoes. She giggled.
A woman who looked much like the girl, stared up at them through scalding eyes; she wore a similar dress and shoes, but her black hair was bundled up by a band of black-golden feathers. "Watch yourself, boy. On our lands we'd have had your head." The woman's voice was like a raging river where the other girls was like a calming spring.
"My apologies," he said again. "I meant no disrespect." He held out his hand, "you must be her sister. And your name, mam?"
"Mother," the girl waved her hand.
Mother? The boy thought, looking at her with a confused expression on his face.
The daughter said, "Behave yourself. The boy meant me no harm; and it was I who was in the wrong."
"Why am I not surprised. You're as clumsy as bear after a belly full of honey."
The young girl replied, "and you're mean as a badger." She looked at Boone and his cheeks turned pink. "Are you a cattleboy?"
A cattboy? He laughed. "Is that what you call us?."
"Far worse than that, I'm afraid." The mother snarked. "Should I give you an example?"
Boone nose wrinkled, "Um, sure—"
"Mother!" The girl shouted. She turned towards the boy. "Please don't mind my her, she is not feeling well, and needs rest. She is Lyseria and I am Lyolis; and your name is?"
"Boone," he stammered, "Boone Rigger."
"Boone Rigger!" The young girl sounded delightful to hear from him. "Why don't we walk the train and you can tell me all about Cattleboys; you do have myths right?"
"Myths?"
The young girl rubbed her chin, "Tales."
Boone nodded, "Yes! I know all kinds like the tale of the Barrador, Lawless Pete, and the War of Nations—" He stumbled on the last few words, "—which we don't have to talk about."
"War of Nations?" The girl smirked. "Do you mean the time of fallen lost spirits?"
"The time of fallen spirits?"
The girl nodded, "this is what we call the days when many homes to the invaders from the north." She frowned, hiding her brilliant smile. "I'd like to hear about this, let's walk." She headed towards the back of the caboose.
Boone rubbed the back of his neck, following close behind. "Um, I'm not sure where to begin?"
"Why don't you start from the beginning...when your people offered us peace then shot us in the backs; or the time you gave the tribes wool blankets filled with diseases; or the butchery of women and children."
They got to the back of the train. "Which do you find the most amusing?"
"Um," Boone followed her into the next caboose. "I don't know those tales…"
Lyolis slammed him against the door, standing tall and proud. "Of course you wouldn't...Your people only speak of your great victories and nothing of loss."
Loss… Boone thought, reminded of his Grandmother. "What do you know of loss; I just lost my Ma jean who was poisoned by some savage!"
"Savage!" The girl yelled. "I know plenty about loss...Your people took our sacred bear—the most important thing in our world—And that's why we're here searching for him."
Sacred bear… Boone spoke softly. "Have your people been to Baxters? I saw some featherheads sitting across from us."
"Featherheads? Do your people have any respect…" Her eyes grew. "What featherheads do you speak of?"
The boy shrugged, "same as you except they wore bear skulls on their heads; kind of sick and twisted if you ask me—"
"By the great forest spirit!" She placed her hand on her mouth. "Zoar…I must find him."
"Who?"
"My fiance..."
"Fiance? Aren't you a little young to be getting married?"
The girls head sunk and her eyes fell to the floor. She took a step back, giving the boy room to move. "Our worlds are very different...You would not understand."
"Nor would care to," Boone said, dusting off his shirt and fixing his hat. He looked at the girl seeing that the light in her eyes had faded. "I'm looking for somebody too; maybe we can help each other."
"Why would I want help from somebody with a dark spirit like yours?"
Boone looked out the window, his eyes towards the western horizon. "Because we have little time to find them." He said, pointing to the dark dust cloud rolling in their direction.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein