Dragons Games Chapter 11-2

2720 words.

2

The city was bustling with activity, dense with establishments and venues promising all manners of entertainment. Even at this hour there were people in the streets, basking in the neon glow of shop stalls, the smell of cooking food wafting into her nose. It wasn’t at all like her last hometown, but that wasn’t a bad thing, she always preferred the busier places.

It was a natural extension of her love of the stage spotlight, and why she could never agree with her parents to live on a farm or somewhere more rural, the isolation would just drive her nuts. In a city you were never far from the excitement, never alone.

Yet she wasn’t of that opinion now, even as the Pokémon and humans moved past and around her, the more confident males calling out for her to join them. The walls surrounding her were drained of colour, the air chilling her to the core, the revelry of the city only cementing her own isolation. She saw Jim’s look of horror every time she blinked, as though the image was burned into her retina.

He had reacted not so dissimilar to herself when she had first been informed of what she had to do. As she turned down the following avenue, she was flashbacked to those very days, Cass living in two times at once as the memory played back in her mind’s eye.

“He tells me he is a nice boy,” her daddy had said. “Quite the gentlemen, and if he is even a fraction of his father’s image, I believe him.”

“You’re crazy!” she’d yelled. Her parents had her sit down at the dinner table with them, as if they were about to give her the talk about where babies came from again. “Y-You want me to… to please this man’s son?”

“I want you to start taking responsibility for this family,” her father replied. “Whether you must do more to make sure we have a roof over our heads, that’s up to him.”

“This is insane,” she said. “What if he tries to… to do something? Am I supposed to just let him have his way with me, is that it? Mom? Mom say something!”

She’d let her husband do most of the talking, her drained eyes looking somewhere in the midpoint between her husband and her daughter. Her voice was tired, a resignation behind it that Cass found disturbing.

“We don’t have any other options, honey,” her mother said. “Either we end up out on the street, or we take the deal. We can’t afford to take on another loan, if the bank would even listen to us anyway.”

“But you can afford to let me sell my body? How could you ask me to do this?”

“Were there any other option, I would never ask so much of you,” her father replied. “Listen to me Cassidy, I made a vow to keep you safe the day you hatched. I would do anything to see you grow your talents, to provide for you, to make sure you never go hungry as long as I live. You cannot know how much it pains me to make this decision, and I won’t try and defend it in any other way besides the fact I see no alternatives that don’t see my own wife and daughter living in a state that is just unacceptable to me.”

Cassidy cradled her snout in her hands, sniffling up a sob that threatened to break. She’d always known about their financial troubles, but never had it been so openly admitted, worries that plagued every growing adult creeping into her thoughts as she sulked.

“What’s his name?” she eventually asked.

“Jim,” her father answered. “He’s a sports player for the campus team, player seven. Our new friend will give you a spot on the cheerleaders so you can have a chance to introduce yourself. He won’t be aware of our arrangement, so you must be careful and not reveal anything about it to him.”

“And how long am I supposed to keep up this act?”

“For the rest of the year, until he gets his grades back. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” she echoed. And she said it again, in the present, a human looking at her strangely as she walked by the front of a bakery, the display window full of flavoured pastries.

She crossed the street quickly on her long legs, making her way through another avenue as she wondered what their father’s would do now. Would the deal go on, or would it stop? She found that she didn’t really care what happened with that now, their parents could squabble all they wanted, this was her life, only she could decide what she wanted to do with it, and she was done playing their games.

The hard ground slowly turned to sand underfoot, the grains digging between the scales on her toes. With every street she crossed, the less buildings there were to obstruct the horizon, the gently bobbing expanse of the sea stretching from left to right. A rough wedge of whiteness reflected the shining moon off the waves, the sea glistening with its likeness. The ocean breeze was ice-cold, Cassidy puling her coat tight round her shoulders as she made her way down onto a wooden boardwalk stretching over the banks of sand.

Lampposts were spread periodically down the walkway, their orange light basking the beach in their orange light. It led to a restaurant built onto the pier a short distance away, but she detoured into the sand about halfway down, the incline leading her down towards the shore.

The restaurant was as loud and busy as the first time she’d seen it, that night she and Jim had walked underneath it, the memories of their following encounter making her cheeks warm even against the cool air. Also just like the last time, there were several boats moored up against the sand around the support beams, the wooden columns layered over with barnacles in the spots the waves lapped at the struts the most.

To the right was a seaside cabin, its singular window glowing with light. As she made her way to its door she heard the sound of someone snoring from inside, and she put her manners aside as she knocked on the frame loudly with her fist.

After a moment, the door swung open, and an old man scowled down at her. His scraggy beard and sailors cap were silhouetted against the solitary candle sitting on the desk inside, its top scattered with papers and a miniature ship with sails. To one side there was a hammock, swaying slightly in the sea breeze, but apart from that the cabin was bare.

“Whaddya want, girl?” the man grumbled. His accent and appearance brought to mind images of pirate movies, the image finalising as she watched him produce a smoking pipe from his pocket. “Can’t you see I’m nappin’?”

“Sorry,” she said, even though she obviously couldn’t have seen anything. “Have you seen a human about my age come through recently?”

The sailor’s eyes widened, and he whipped round, rushing to his window and peering through the glass. “My boat!” he wailed. “What is it with today’s youth, always with the stealin’? Say…”

He peered back at her, a look of recognition passing through his weather-beaten features. His skin looked like leather by how tanned it was. “You’re the drag’n that stole my skiff way back! Yes, you and that boy, don’t deny it! I remember a face!”

“That was me, yes, and I’m sorry about that, regret it now,” she said. “Look sir, I need to borrow one of your boats.”

“Ah so it’s all pleasantries now, is it? Suddenly I’m a sir, eh?” He waved his pipe at her with a calloused hand. “Forget it! I have half a mind to call the authorities on you, girl, every day someone’s always sneakin’ down and taking me boats for a spin, and I’ve finally caught one of you.”

“Why do you have so many anyway?” she asked, curiousness getting the better of her.

“They’re not all mine, officially,” the man answered. “People need a place to park em’, and for a small fee I keep an eye on them, make sure nothin’ happens to em’.”

“And what an outstanding job you’ve been doing,” she murmured.

“Hey, I just wanted to close me eyes for five minutes… or ten. I lived a long life, I deserve some peace and quiet.”

“So can I take one of your boats for a while?” she asked. “I’ll pay you for your trouble,” she added, reaching for her coat pocket.

“Keep your money, girl, I’m not interested. You know how much trouble I’d be in if anyone found out I was taking money from kids? Just what is it you want out there?”

“My friend, my boyfriend, he’s out on those isles right now, I have to speak to him,” she explained. “We… got into a fight.”

“Ah, young’ns and their love. I’ve missed that kind of life.” The man puffed his chest out. “Quite the charmer back in me younger days, myself, did you know that? Ah there was this one lass, pretty thing with hair like an autumn leaf. She-”

“Sir please, I’m worried about him,” she interjected. “Can I please just take a boat? It’s urgent!”

“What was this fight about?” he asked. “Now before you say it’s none of my business, let me remind you that you and that boy stole from me! There must be one hell of a reason if you’re civil enough to ask my permission this time round.”

She relented, keeping the explanation as brief as she could, and the more personal details to a minimum.

“I see,” the man grumbled. The salty air coursed between them as he thought for a moment. “Don’t know what that boy would be doing out there on the isles, but here, at this time of night? Can’t be anything good for his health, and not just because of the sea!”

“So will you please let me have a boat now?” she asked, her frustration creeping into her voice. How much time had he wasted?

“Arrghh…” the man sighed. “My heart was broken many times when I was your age, suppose I should do my best to not see it happen to another. Go on then, go with my permission.”

“Thank you! I… well.” She paused in the doorway, pointing a claw over at the docked boats. “Could you… could you show me how to untie one?”

The man grumbled something under his breath, rolling his eyes as he waved her aside, the breeze blowing his long hair back as he stepped out of the cabin. She followed him to the dozens of beached boats, the water lapping against the hulls of those still in the water.

“I’m guessing it was the boy’s idea last time around, since you know nothing about knots?” he asked. When Cass didn’t answer he chuckled. “Come here, girl, watch me undo this knot, learn something.”

She did, the rope coming undone after he showed her where to pull what. “I nearly forgot,” the man said. “See those lifebuoys over there? Go and grab one and put it in this boat, and a jacket as well while you’re at it. Oh, and a paddle too.”

“I can swim,” she protested, but the man waved a dismissive hand at her.

“So can I, but I’ll not send you out there without the proper equipment. The tide can pull any man under, drag’ns included, trust me on that.”

She didn’t see a reason to argue further, gathering up a buoy and a vest and placing them in the boat the man was unmooring, if that was the right word. “You’re giving me one with an engine?” she asked, noticing the black box on the tail of the skiff.

“It’ll be faster than paddlin, and you wont tire yourself out if you have to swim for some reason.”

“Then why bring a paddle?”

“You might run out of fuel, the fins might break, the rotor could jam, you might get stuck in some rocks and have to wedge yourself out. Assume the sea will try and toss you, and you’ll be ready for anything.”

“But I don’t know how to steer a boat!”

“… Ah. Should have guessed that.” He threw the unspooled rope into the skiff, dusting his hands together. “Well it’s not so hard, just use this handle here to steer left and right, and you twist it to control the speed. Like this.”

What followed was about ten minutes of him showing her how to operate the engine, as well as a few extra safety precautions and what to do should she become beached or jammed in the rocks. When he finally decided she was ready, she stepped gingerly into the skiff, the thing rocking as her added weight tipped the thing to the left.

“And how are you going to get into the water like that, girl?” the man asked. The skiff was still half planted into the sand.

“Aren’t you going to push me?”

“With you in it? I’d break me back!”

Embarrassed, she climbed out, the sailor watching from the side, not helping as she pushed her weight into the boat, the hull sliding along the sand and leaving a groove as she brought it into the water. “Remember your vest!” he called out when she got deep enough her feet could no longer touch the seabed, Cass climbing in, her legs dripping with water.

She took up her spot by the engine, yanking the starting cord like she was starting her father’s lawnmower. The engine roared to life, the rotors spinning until they blurred, the water cycling about as the skiff started to edge forward. It was loud, Cassidy wincing as her eardrums buzzed, but it got a little better when she turned the power to its lower setting.

She inched the skiff deeper into the sea, one hand on the lip of the boat, the other on the engine handle as she steered towards the isles. The gale whipped at her clothing, her coat flapping behind her as she kept the speed low but constant.

Cass bounced in her seat, the waves bucking the boat from below. Shoals of fish danced through the water, Cass watching them speed out of the boat’s way in fear. She looked behind her, seeing the mainland gently slide into the distance, the hills framed by the urban sprawls of the city.

She focused her attention back to where she was going, mindful of the shallower rocks, some of their tops peeking out of the water when the waves receded. The sailor had told her it was low tide, so she kept clear of the shores of the islands, passing between two as close to the middle as she could. The last thing she needed was to crash her boat.

The islets rose up on all sides, like oversized bubbles of sand sprinkled with pine trees, spaced apart by fields of shallowed water. They became a maze of tight archipelagos the further east they went, she looked it up once online, and she prayed that Jim hadn’t gone too deep, he knew these isles better than she did.

Her teeth began to chitter as her search started to lengthen, every island looking almost the same. She spotted several straw huts on a few of the islets, some with wooden decks proceeding over the beaches. These isles weren’t completely uninhabited, but she doubted that Jim was in one. Her heart began to beat faster as twenty minutes passed, and she slowed the boat down so she could check the engine without risking a crash. How did she gauge the fuel on this thing again?

Just as she was entertaining the thought of pulling up to one of the huts, she spotted something. There, on the shores off the islet to her left, was a skiff, dragged up onto the shore so the tide wouldn’t wash it away. She gunned the engine, soon making out two paddles in the sand beside the derelict skiff, and there, sitting on the sand close by, a figure.