TEN SECONDS , The Kenny Ackerman Story BOOK ONE~ ORIGINS ,by Melly O'Hara

OPPORTUNITIES

CHAPTER 2  OPPORTUNITIES

Holdin' her close, feelin' her warmth as she clung ta me, the coolness o' her tears gave me the comfort I needed ta continue. Ma instinct had been right. She had understood. She didn' judge me , only ta find me lackin'. She would listen, an' maybe she would know how ta fix this; how ta change this. No more losses.
I won't lose again.

The chill were gone, leavin' a slow movin' warm breeze in its wake. The clouds had cleared, revealing a cacophony o' stars twinklin' in the blue velvet sky 'bove  us. Bathed in full moonlight, her hair shone like gold an' her pale skin appeared as a porcelain statue from one o' the ol' masters. She were breath-takin'. An' she were here fo' me. I knew that she loved me. It emanated from her entire bein'. An' I were bankin' on that love, like a gambler holdin' an ace.
Throwin' in ma hand, l continued.

" Funny, but despite what ya may think, the Underground is a perdy big place. They was thorough when they built this underground city 'neath the Capital o' Paradise. I think that in the beginnin' t'were designed so's the builders an' workers o' the city had somewhere close ta live while theys worked in the city. Seein's though the city itself were designed fo' only the wealthy, the powerful ta live in; I'm guessin' that it were thought convenient- humane even,  fo' their workers ta have their very own town. Even if t'were hidden 'neath the ground. Difference then were, that people could come an' go as they pleased. An' the air were clean back then. The Underground weren' connected ta the coal mines at that point - didn' wanna kill their workforce! T'were only much later, when the Capital were established that someone got the bright idea ta start usin' the Underground as a dumpin' ground fo' the  poor. Then the 'undesirables' an' the criminal. Turned out ta be the same thing really, in the end. An' that's when the guards was posted an' the Underground became a kinda prison. They connected the underground city ta the coal mines, cause they had an abundant captive workforce. An' if'n they died young? Well there was dozens more ready ta replace 'em.
That were the world that Kuchel an' me escaped inta that night.

It were never still nor quiet in the Underground, t'were always crowded. T'were only the type o' people that differed. Durin' the 'day' the city streets was full o' merchants, people bustlin' ta an' from work, the housewives bargainin' an' takin' the little 'uns ta school, the occasional pick-pocket, thief, or drunk. But mainly t'were a respectable crowd. But at night, that's when the city came ta play. Workin' girls lined the streets, the bars was full o' patrons singin' their drunken ditties, fightin', braggin', gamblin', whorin'; 'neath the bright lamplight. The thugs came out ta tempt the unsuspectin' inta dubious 'get-rich-quick-schemes', only ta rob an' beat their customers when debts weren' repaid in a timely manner. The casinos was always tilted ta protect the House, but theys was always full o' dreamers who believed that jus' one good win would buy them a ticket ta freedom an' they'd finally have enough ta bribe the right Stair Guards. An' the gangs would be out, stealin' from the merchants ( like the one my Pa worked fo') stealin' a crate or two as deliveries was made between the Underground an' the surface.

The crowded streets swallowed us whole, absorbin' us inta their degradation; grantin' us anonymity amongst the night time players. We looked like ya average pick-pocketers; young, skinny an' frightened. Mos' o' the crowd was ta drunk ta give us much more than a cursory glance. So's long as their wallets was safe an' we didn' get in the middle o' their whorin'; theys was happy ta assume that we'd jus' find another victim ta fleece.

It took Kuchel an' me months ta get far enough away from our 'home' ta feel safe. Mostly walkin' by night when people was occupied with their own pleasure; stealin' whatever we needed ta conserve our meager funds fo' a room when we's finally found somewhere ta settle. Sleepin' under disused carts, in basements, under stairwells - anywhere that kept pryin' eyes at bay. T'were  many a time when we would try one of the stairways outa there, but each time we was stopped by the thugs that guarded the way out. So's we jus' kept on goin' til the landscape changed enough ta inform us that we was no longer in Kansas anymore, Dorothy.