2200 Blues Chapter 7 (Early Draft)

By G.R. Nanda

“Why do you hate me?” asked Nickel. Farrul was huddled facedown on his knees and his arms were wrapped around them. Steve was knocked out cold, laid down behind him. Farrul slowly raised his head. He had stopped shivering. His eye twitched and flakes of crystal around it fell off. 

“I don’t hate you,” said Farrul. “I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You’re being a floppy john,” said Nickel.

“Don’t swear at me,” said Farrul, frowning and speaking an octave higher. 

Nickel scoffed and shook his head. 

“Look,” Nickel started. “We’re in this together.”

“No,” began Nickel, “ – we’re not.”

“Right now we’re in this together,” said Nickel. 

“Listen. If you’ve dealt with life the way I’ve dealt with it, you’d understand. I wouldn’t take it personal if I were you.” 

“How old are you?” asked Nickel. 

“Why are you asking?” said Farrul. 

“I want to understand you – get to know you.”

“Why would it matter to you?”

“I want to know you. I’m here with you. Will be for a long time. Might as well get to know you – you know?”

“I’m 15. How old are you?”

“16.”

“Not far apart huh?”

“No,” said Nickel. A smile played at a corner of his lips. “I guess we’re not.” 

“I only meant by age,” said Farrul unsmiling. “Other than that we’re pretty glibbing far apart.”

“You said no swearing,” said Nickel. 

“We’re pretty far apart,” said Farrul. 

“In what way?” said Nickel. 

Farrul didn’t respond. 

“I was born on November 18th, 2183,” said Nickel. 

“I’m July 7th, 2184,” said Farrul. 

“Huh,” said Nickel. “So if we were going to school, we’d be in the same grade.” 

Farrul said nothing. “10th grade,” said Nickel. “We’d be sophomores.” Nickel looked down at his lap and sighed. “Well, that kind of life – the normal life isn’t an option for us now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Farrul. Silence followed. “You’re talking to me even though I said I would kill you a while ago.”

“Yeah, well I’ve had worse said to me,” said Nickel. “Plus who else is there here to talk to?” To Nickel the sound of blowing wind seemed louder after he said those words. 

“Are you trying to be relatable?” asked Farrul. “Are you trying to make me relate to you?”

“No!” said Nickel. “I mean – I don’t know.”

“I don’t know much anymore,” said Nickel. “Nothing makes sense.” 

“That’s because you’ve lived your whole life until now making sense,” said Farrul. “I haven’t. My whole life has been like this.” Farrul looked up and squinted, appearing like he was in the middle of a thought. “Maybe not my whole life. Most of it. Everything I remember. Life became desperate for me since I was probably 4. After I ran away when my mom died.” There was a guttural noise in Farrul’s throat. He stopped speaking and frowned deeply. Nickel took it that that was all Farrul could manage to say. 

“That burns,” said Nickel. 

“Yeah,” said Farrul, “it does.” 

“Really though,” he said. “Don’t take it personal.” Nickel frowned. 

“You keep saying that, then you keep telling me why you hate me and why we’re different from each other,” said Nickel. 

“Hate keeps me alive,” said Farrul. 

“You sure about that?” asked Nickel. “You don’t look too great right now, all hateful and such. You’re sick and you look demented.” 

“Everything is confusing for me too,” said Farrul, “so hate gives me sustenance. Something to hold on to. Something to understand. There’s nothing else I can understand.”

Nickel opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. 

“You know, I get that,” said Nickel, sighing. “I actually get that.” 

Suddenly, Farrul chuckled. Nickel looked at Farrul with eyes squinting in bemusement. 

“Sometimes hating is harder than I think it is,” said Farrul. His face twitched. It was now visible that he was suppressing a smile. The edges of his lips upturned and then he forced them downwards. He let out what was half of an exhale and half of a laugh. 

“Who the glibb am I kidding?’ he yelled. He burst into loud giggles. Nickel giggled too. They snorted and howled with laughter. 

“WHAT THE GLIBB?” shouted Nickel. 

“Yeah, right?” said Farrul. 

“We’re both gonna die someday anyways!” said Nickel. Both of the boys squeezed their eyes and rocked side to side as they shook in fits of laughter. “Oh………man – that’s crazy.” 

Their laughter dwindled and they chuckled softly. Soon enough, their laughter had subsided entirely. Farrul was leaning his back against the tent with his knees bent and Nickel leaned out of his sack, lying on his side with his shoulder pushing into the ground. They both smiled sheepishly. 

Their eyes drifted to Steve. His large belly slowly rose and fell. Long graying strands of hair stuck out of a thin patch of skin exposed at the bottom of his shirt. His shaggy hair hung over his eyes. He snored loudly and drool seeped out of his gaping mouth. 

“So…………. he’s the one who’s going to tell us how to get out of here?” said Nickel. “Can’t even keep the drool in of his mouth. I mean I don’t know if I can either – but that’s a whole lot of composure right there.” Nickel and Farrul fell back into guffawing. 

“He’s probably dreaming of Hedonim hookers!” said Farrul. He pointed at Steve’s pants. “Just wait till his pants start r-”

Steve growled loudly and lunged upwards at Farrul. He grabbed Farrul’s head and in one swift motion, wrapping an arm around it, tucked Farrul’s entire noggin under his armpit. 

“You’re so funny, eh?” said Steve grinning widely. Farrul was yelling unintelligibly. He was also smiling. “I know you, boy! You wish you was the one dreaming! Don’t project your adolescent fantasies onto me!” He let go of Farrul. His hair was even more disheveled and many of the pale blue flakes had fallen off his body. Steve patted Farrul on his back. Farrul was still grinning, showcasing his grey teeth. 

“Any man who lets me hassle him is a good man in my book,” said Steve. “In return, I help him out and show him what I’ve learned.” Steve eyed Nickel. “That goes for you too, sir. Keep that in mind.”

Nickel smiled awkwardly. Steve stood up. He grabbed a flask of water and took a long swig. Once he finished, he put it down and burped. 

“I better stay standing. Or else, I’ll keep passing out. There’s no use in that.” He looked at Nickel. 

“Your hovercraft might just be the only thing that could get us out of here. You want to take us?” After a pause, he said, “your choice.” 

“I do want to,” said Nickel. Thinking about the American Eagle made him remember an unpleasant truth. “But I just now remembered – the Eagle’s running low on fuel. It’s my fault. But I didn’t know I’d get stuck in a windstorm. I don’t have enough fuel to fly high enough to recharge my ion concentration in the ionosphere.” 

“That’s tough,” said Steve. “Most people who get stuck in these plains can’t leave unless they make it to Hedonim. It seems like all you have left to do is use the Eagle, however long it takes to safely make it to Hedonim.”

“Yeah,” said Nickel. He said nothing afterwards, invoking an uncomfortable silence during which he was yet again filled with wariness about helping two people he’d just met. But their shared experiences in dreamworld held him back from leaving Steve and Farrul behind. 

“I have a working knowledge of these plains,” said Steve. “I haven’t traveled on foot far from here, but I’ve seen this place from high above. There are clusters of high rock in different places. You would want to watch out for the signs that you’re getting closer to them. Getting over them would be very hard. The same thing goes for chasms. I’ve seen wrecked tunnels and turbines from above. I think there’s a group of tunnels to the west, turbines tons of miles past that and then an old transport terminal – the one that was in your dream to the north of that. I’ve seen what the power plant looked like back in the day. Once we figure where we are in relation to some of the bigger stuff here, I can see where everything ends and where Hedonim begins. Going out there is really our only hope. That sound good to you, Nickel?”

“Yeah,” Nickel muttered. He couldn’t think of any better option. 

“A windstorm will start up soon,” said Steve. “We’ll wait for it to end before going to your ship.” 

“So we missed shine-day I guess,” said Farrul sighing. “No meds for the rest of the week.” 

“But we’ve got something better,” said Steve. 

“Steve, just hours ago you were yelling at me for messing up shine-day!” said Farrul. 

“That doesn’t matter now. Not when we’ve got a big opportunity on our hands.”

They waited in an erratic atmosphere of angst inside of the tent. Soon enough, the windstorm started outside. The frame of the tent shuddered and the walls flapped loudly. The wooden chest shook up and down. Nickel got out of the sleeping sack and sat cross-legged against the wall. His body was strained, but frenetic with anticipation of the ordeals to come. 

He wouldn’t be living inside the Eagle alone anymore. It was a liberation. As the thought settled into his mind, he felt a release from the routine of the past months, but also felt overwhelmed at the prospect of a new life to come. Steve and Farrul huddled against the tent, sitting and staring ahead with eyes that showed the same feeling of anxiety and excitement. 

When the wind outside receded from a screaming howl to a whistle, Steve got up. 

“Time to go,” he said. Farrul slowly stood up. 

Get up, Nickel told himself. It didn’t work. Farrul looked at Nickel expectantly. Nickel stretched his legs and moved towards Steve and the entrance of the entrance of the tent. 

If he had a chance to live with people again, Nickel would not mess up by letting them down. In that instant, he decided that being alone was one of the worst things in the world.

Once they’d all stepped outside and Nickel had closed up the tent’s interior curtain and the tent itself, he caught sight of the Eagle. It was still looming in front of the campsite, obscured by orange and parked in the same location and position as before the storm. 

“My god, that’s a hell of a craft,” muttered Steve. “……..beautiful.” 

“You didn’t see it before?” asked Nickel. 

“After a windstorm, fog clears out for a bit,” said Steve. “Then the curtain goes back up.”

“Oh – in that case, LET’S GO!” said Nickel. He started towards his hovercraft, standing tall and unmoving less than a mile away. Nickel heard Steve and Farrul’s footsteps from behind, but swaths of air were still billowing around him, pushing him from many directions. So he slowed his pace until he was jogging. Even that was disorienting. He felt dizzy and the Eagle was now to his left, in the direction opposite to the force of most of the wind. 

Nickel stopped and surveyed the landscape. He had strayed too far. The Eagle appeared in the orange ahead of him, but to the left, only a couple meters away. 

“Nickel!” shouted Farrul. “Come back! Your ship’s here! You’re going the wrong way!” Nickel saw Farrul and Steve’s faint bodies a long way behind him to the left. He took off after them, meeting them with their arms around each other, slowly moving forward. 

“The storm’s over, but the wind isn’t done dying,” said Steve. “Stay with us.” Nickel did as he was told and together, they made it to the hull of the ship. They weren’t sure it was there until they touched its hard surface, soaking in the fog. 

“Allright, how do we get in?” asked Steve. 

“Through the side, behind,” said Nickel. “Wait – something’s off………. I think I’m missing something.” Steve and Farrul stared at Nickel while he tried to solve the mystery in silence. 

“Was it what you were wearing when you met us?” asked Steve.

 “DAMN IT!” exclaimed Nickel. “My glibbing bod-suit! That’s actually important.” 

“Do you want to go get it?” asked Steve. “We’ve only got so much time before another storm. 20 to 30 minutes.” 

Nickel silently pondered his options. 

“No,” he said. “I want to show you guys inside. Plus, I don’t know if I can leave you guys inside alone. The craft is tricky when you’re not used to it.” Nickel walked along the hull of the ship to the left. He motioned his hand for them to follow him. “Wouldn’t want you guys getting hurt, or you guys hurting the American Eagle.” 

Farrul was in awe. Entrails of orange fog swam around the large beast of a machine that Nickel was guiding him and Steve towards. It was tall. Looming. Rusted, but magnificent. The entire hull had a greyish sheen, dotted and striped with red splotches of rust. 

His breath caught in his throat. Steve planted a foot forward, leaning on Farrul, pushing him forward. He followed Steve’s movement, walking alongside the old man. They moved around the curve of the hovercraft. 

Feelings of overwhelming hatred and distrust resurfaced. What did he do to get this craft? Why should I trust him? Those feelings and thoughts were soon blotted out by awe and intimidation. We’re still going? How long is this hovercraft? He continued to follow Nickel. The movement of his limbs uninterrupted by his thoughts and emotions. 

“How-” rasped Farrul. He cleared his throat. “How long is this hovercraft?”

“Pretty long, but we’re almost there!” replied Nickel without turning around. “Just keep – oh! Watch out – for these knobs right here!” he said, tapping rectangular boxes protruding from the side of the craft. There was a dull echo. Nickel walked over the knobs. 

“Yeah,” said Farrul. He wanted to say that he would have taken the precaution without being told. However, the agency of his voice died, leaving him silent. The closer he got to the knob, the more he could see a darkness near it. It was becoming sharper, even darkening the orange fog moving through. 

When he passed the boxes, he looked up and saw wide triangular wings jutting out from the Eagle. When he moved to see its rear, he saw incredibly large circular ports embedded into it. He guessed that was where the exhaust came out from or where the engines were. 

“Alright, now follow me!” said Nickel. 

“We already are,” said Farrul. 

“No, but follow me into here,” said Nickel. He was still facing forward. He ran to a wide square-shaped hatch. It was the same rusted color as the body of the ship. Nickel jerked the circular latch at the center in one turning motion. 

There was a loud click followed by the door squealing as Nickel pulled it open against the entranceway. Orange air moved into the Eagle. 

“All right, I think I………….” started Nickel, before receding into mumbles. 

Farrul and Steve walked towards the open hatch immediately. 

“Oh, man, I can’t wait to go inside,” said Farrul. Steve nudged him forward with his weight. “Glibb man! I’ve been waiting for so many glibbing years. Been stuck out here in this shithole for so long,” Farrul whimpered. He couldn’t help himself. His mother would hate to see how things turned out for him. Crying for a hovercraft to save him. 

Why can’t she be here? thought Farrul. His arm loosened around Steve who wobbled with insecurity. Why can’t she be saved like me? He started sobbing quietly. 

“Let’s go!” he cried. He used his little energy as forcefully as possible. He walked very fast. Steve stumbled even more, trying to catch up with Farrul. 

“Wait!” said Nickel, holding out his hand. 

“No!” said Farrul. “I’ve been waiting so-”

“Listen to him!” hissed Steve. “You’ll be fine!” He thumped Farrul’s chest. 

What am I doing? thought Farrul. 

“Allright,” he said. He couldn’t let his emotions best him. Anger and aggression helped him fight back in the foster programs and labor camps he got switched around after his mother died, but the anger and aggression always hurt. Farrul was tired of hurting. “Allright, I’m sorry.” He stood still against Steve who chose to lean against the Eagle. The water that had been forming at his eyes wavered and a familiar deadbeat exhaustion swept through him, replacing his momentary anger and frustration. 

Nickel stood and looked at them with troubled eyes for a while, until he relaxed and looked at his feet, before swiftly walking through the entranceway. He slammed the door behind him and it clicked loudly. 

After a long moment of howling, but slowing wind, Nickel opened the entrance hatch and holding it open, beckoned Steve and Farrul inside. Where the orange entrails of fog neared the opening in the entrance, bright interior lights made the orange a lighter shade. 

The light cast itself as a bright halo on Nickel’s body. Nickel’s eyes were smaller, softer. He suddenly smiled, the edges of his mouth stretching in quick spurts until they were wide with warmth. 

“Come,” Nickel said softly. 

He looked like an angel beckoning Farrul into heaven. In that moment, Farrul realized that all it took was one angelic character to lay out a hand – to offer kindness in a world – in a life of cruelty and despair. This was one of the few moments in his life – this was one of the few people who touched Farrul with kindness and charity. His mother came before. Then Steve. Now Nickel. 

“Go,” whispered Steve. He planted a foot forward. Farrul had lost himself in the moment and Steve was too exhausted to walk by himself. Farrul gritted his teeth and trudged forward alongside Steve, moving closer to the light of the American Eagle until he was enveloped in it.