ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 22

NAOMI

Beneath the buzz of a single bulb stood the tall box with the crescent etched into the door. Naomi beheld the shape in the spotlight and laughed. "I've never actually used an outhouse before," said Naomi. She turned to Brielle, the shy girl positioned in her shadow. "D-do we wash our hands in there," Naomi asked.

Brielle shrugged before placing a hand on her talking tummy.

"Don't worry," said Naomi. "Once we wash our hands, we can go back and eat."

"O-okay," Brielle bashfully replied.

A prompt thumbs-up from the sun-kissed girl followed, but it quickly vanished in the sporadic draft of that nasty narrow alley. Brielle instantly pinched her nostrils before the odor infiltrated her nose, but Naomi left herself exposed. She ate large swaths of the rancid stench leaking out of the solitary box.

"That's awful!" Naomi shouted. As her great red curls shriveled at the tips from the stank, a patron emerged from the box. It was a slobbering man stained with booze and urine. He stumbled out of the outhouse with pants held up by what little reason remained in his hand. He then looked at the repulsed Naomi and smiled a sloppy smile.

- "That – he belched loud- T-that's the musk of a man, baby," he shouted.

Naomi's heart sunk into her stomach. Her brain must have rotted as well, because, for all the discomfort she would have felt after, all she could do in the moment was smile and laugh that fearful laughter. The amused showing seemed to satisfy the drunkard, and he left with a salivating admiration of the girl's fiery locks. The way he ran his dirty fingers through her hair — never had a touch caused her to feel so cold. When he vanished behind the back door, Naomi found that she was frozen.

"...Naomi," Brielle called.

The concern in the shy girl's tone pressed Naomi. To prove her wellness, she smiled a smile that sprung from one cheek to the other. Naomi only hoped that it would prove convincing enough that Brielle would miss her removing the strands of hair tainted by the man's touch.

"What are the odds of there being a sink in there," Naomi asked with concealing laughter.

"Umm..." went Brielle. The chestnut protégée looked at the outhouse with her lips held sideways. "I-I'd probably say really low," Brielle replied. When Brielle turned to Naomi with hopes of approval in her eyes, the sun-kissed girl knew that she was no longer wise to her true feelings. It was better that way, at least that's what Naomi thought.

"So I guess that means we do not have to go inside and check," said Naomi.

Brielle, still holding her nose, giggled a little. Her stomach would not tolerate the amusement though, because it growled so loudly that Naomi thought an animal was skulking the narrow shadows.

"I-I think we should go back," said an uneasy Brielle.

"B-Brielle wait," Naomi shouted.

The sudden cry effectively paralyzed Brielle in place. What came next was an awkward setting of pretense. "I actually—Well I want to talk to you about something. Is that okay," said Naomi.

"I-I guess that's okay," said Brielle. "I-I-I I should really hurry, though."

"Don't worry. I promise to be as quick as I can," Naomi assured. The sun-kissed girl thought of the question before posing it, but now, when the question of Adlai balanced on the tip of her tongue, asking so forwardly felt as implausible as Achim assessed. Naomi steeled herself though, for what was a batter without the swing? From the tip of her toes to the nape of her neck, Naomi was fraught with fear, but no amount of anxiety would stop her. She simply came out with it. "D-DO YOU KNOW WHO ACHIM IS?!"