Vagabonding.1 [COMPLETE]

6. The Steaks Are High

A stirring weight on my chest brought me out of my light slumber, it caused me to wake up with dread in my heart.

"Please, don't be a spider," I whispered with my eyes closed.

I quickly took a peek behind my slightly groggy eyelids and noticed a golden-colored squirrel grooming herself on my chest.

"I hope you didn't wake me up too early, Juju," my voice cracked dryly as I spoke. "I won't accept anything other than being woken up at eight on the dot." Sniffling from my slightly clogged nose, I picked the squirrel off of me and set her on the sofa bed. I glanced at the time and noted that it was fifty-eight minutes past seven in the morning before I smiled and looked over at the squirrel, "Not quite on the dot, but, I'll let it pass."

Kid Jones' had offered me her office for the night, which beats sleeping outside by a landslide. The lone sofa that was in the room conveniently turned into a very flat, rigid bed that creaked and squeaked with any little movement. Even cracking my bones did little to ease my discomfort from a bad night's rest, it only seemed to make the pain worse somehow.

Walking around the room, I saw Kid Jones' desk covered in trinkets of all sorts. A weathered compass with a scratched glass surface, a collection of odd pens, a small laptop, a few different shaped candles, and receipts kept in a neat pile in the middle of the table were the most noticeable items I observed. Despite all the clutter, everything had its own spot on the table, fitting comfortably like puzzle pieces. My attention was drawn to a small black shell when I reached over and grabbed it.

Cracking the lid of the plastic shell, I noticed a small pallet of a darkened skin color with a delicate white puff set on it. On the other side of the pallet, there was a small mirror in which I took the time to look at myself and sigh.

Pulling the mirror at arm's length, I stared into my odd bronze colored eyes, smiling at my reflection tightly.

"You're doing the right thing," I tried to say in a convincing tone to myself, "You're not going to get murdered and you're not going to be kept as a prisoner for some gross person. You're going... to be just... fine."

I gave myself a quick pat on my face before shutting the case and placing it back onto the table. I nodded stiffly before making my way out the door as I repeated my words, 'today's going to be just right'.

After a quick bathroom break, I made my way towards the kitchen where I spotted Kid Jones setting up a table with plates of food. When I was eventually spotted, I was greeted by a meal for two, courtesy of the host herself. As I ate my food in silence, she began to clear her throat.

Kid Jones took little to no time to ask, "You decided to stick around?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" I stated as I tightened my grip on my fork, using the tines to prod at my meal, "I've decided to go with those two kooks."

She leaned across the table to ruffle my hair, "You've got more guts than any person I've seen, I would have ran off with my tail between my legs!"

"Believe me, I'm trying my hardest not to," I commented stiffly.

"Right, well, let's get your mind off of the worries by getting those hands busy! You'll need to do dishes today since my crew is still running short, I'm sure the chef will love some help with cleaning," Kid Jones said as she settled back to her side of the table, "Or did you just want to vent instead?"

I shook my head as I slid the still-filled plate of food away from me, "If I talk about it, chances are that I'll just run away."

I excused myself from the table and sauntered over to my work station expecting to find a plethora of grime and dirt. Instead, the kitchen was much cleaner than I was expecting it to be, with a tired chef in control of it on his lonesome.