Runaway Train

Act I - Scene 2

Golly, what a day this's been...

It had been just moments after the demons had left. Though the world passed in a terrible flash outside, it looked to be a bit brighter out there now. Quite a few minutes must've passed. Whatever time had done so had gone in silence, though. Always one to never speak unless spoken to (and even then, he may not reply), Johnny stayed quiet. He did, admittedly, feel very awkward.

Luckily, he had something to draw his attention away from the woman who lounged in front of him. A little desperately, he fiddled with his malfunctioning leg. It was a real pain to try to get it working again, especially with only one hand to do so with. He was used to it, though, always prepared; a miniature toolkit equipped with a few screwdrivers and patches and such was always in his pocket, he made sure of it. Still, it didn't make it any less bothersome.

"Now, what's the story behind this leg of yours, hm?" Sally suddenly asked. Her tone was rather disinterested, her entirely relaxed posture reflecting it.

Johnny was taken aback by that. Honestly, no one cared to or even thought it polite to ask back home. Everyone just assumed if some guy had an injury as bad as a missing limb, it was from the war and best not to ask about it. So for a moment, he stayed in shocked silence, scrambling for an answer. "T-the war, ma'am," he managed to stutter. "Both my legs and my arm were all blown away in the war." Just saying that made him lightheaded and queasy at the memory.

To his continued surprise, Sally's brow furrowed in confusion at what he had said. "The war?" she said, looking him up and down. "You're young to have fought in it. At least you look it."

Really? Do I look that young? He'd been told he was a little baby faced back in the studio, but he was sure he didn't look below the age to enlist. "What's that?"

"You look young," she reiterated, a touch of annoyance creeping into her voice. "The war ended fourteen years ago. You must've been just out of school then."

Now it was Johnny's turn to be perplexed. What's she going on about? "Far as I know, the fight's still going on," he said, his voice strengthening in his confusion. Why exactly was she lying about something like this? Rather cruel to do so, he thought.

A burst of laughter left the woman. "Oh, your memory must've gone in the war, too. You're quite the riot!"

That was crossing the line. Though his timidness kept him from saying anything, a part of Johnny wanted to stand up and give her a piece of his mind. However, he just ducked his head with a huff, returning his attention to his leg.

A good few seconds passed between the two before either of them spoke again. "So, would you want some help fixing it up, then?"

Quickly, Johnny's eyes glanced back up at Sally's. He didn't quite know what to say just then. One minute, she'd been telling him he was a fool, the next she was offering to help repair his leg. However, he couldn't ignore the fact that this could be much easier with some help. Usually, his sister was there to assist if anything went awry. Now, though, that wasn't the case. Make no mistake, he could certainly handle himself on his own, but it was easier with help. "Sure," he murmured after a pause.

A satisfied smile played across her dolled-up face. Though she must've figured he couldn't move much, she gestured for him to come closer. She would've figured right, but Johnny did his best to scoot to the edge of his seat and hold up his leg. Luckily, he had gotten it outstretched enough for Sally to take hold of it.

The leg of his pants had already been hiked up past his knee, so she took straight to examining the joints and mechanisms. To his surprise, she seemed like she knew exactly what she was doing. He hadn't quite pinned her as the handy type, what with her fur robe and satin dress and pearls dripping over pearls. Wouldn't exactly figure myself to be the handy type either, I suppose, he thought to himself.