Of It All

You put on your hood and take a step out into the cold Autumn air. The cool air is refreshing after being cooped up inside working all day. The occasional noise of a car passing is the only sound that breaks the silence. You clutch at the envelope in your hands, your pay for your work over the previous two weeks. Well, it’s yours until you get back “home” anyway. You really don’t want to go back. You reach into your pant’s pocket to retrieve your barely functional flip phone and look at the time. It’s 9:34… You guess you could put it off for a little while.

acquire wooden bar in alley. pretend it is a sword.

>Go sit in an all night cafe and watch your coffee turn cold. It's not much, but at least it's better than nothing.
>How things did really go so wrong in your life? Better mull it over once again!

acquire wooden bar in alley. pretend it is a sword.

That board actually does look pretty sweet. You walk into the ally as nonchalantly as you can to pick it up. It’s got a good weight to it.



You give it an experimental swing. You feel like you could be the one who slays the evil, sword-wielding lizard overlord, Gremuckle, once and for all! With your trusty steed and countless allies nothing can stop you! With extreme finesse you dispatch his two guards and corner him against his throne. He had ruled over the land by killing countless innocent lives to stay in power and further his own personal goals. But now he shall die on this throne! His ruthless reign comes to an end tonight! You are the hero the people so desperately needed! They all admire you skill, cunning, and dashing good looks!

You sign and lower the board. Yeah, right.

“Hey, Excalibur. Careful where you swing that thing. Could hurt yourself.”

Startled, you drop the board and whip around to see someone standing at the entrance of the alleyway with an amused expression on his face. NOO! SOMEONE SAW YOU!



“I-i-i-i-i” You stutter, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “S-s-sorry!”

He laughs lightly. “Nah, you’re alright. Just don’t bonk yourself on the head with it.” He gives a quick wink and then starts to walk off.

You drop your head into your hands. He probably thinks you’re some kind of weirdo who spends her time in random alleys swinging around scraps of wood for no reason! But you don’t!

You look over at the board that’s now on the ground by your feet. You kick it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You tentatively step back onto the sidewalk, making sure that the person who saw you isn’t still around.

>Go sit in an all night cafe and watch your coffee turn cold. It's not much, but at least it's better than nothing.

You don’t know if there are any all night cafes within walking distance from here, but you do know of one that might still be open. Sometimes you go there on your lunch breaks at work. It’s in the opposite direction of home but you don’t mind. You decide to go give them a visit as a warm drink sounds pretty good right about now. You doubt your fosters will notice if your check is a few dollars short anyways.

As you start walking you begin to think of some excuses you could have for coming home late. Maybe Machel kept you late at work to organize some shelves. Or maybe to do stock of what you had in the back. You can’t say that you had to clean the bathrooms because that was what you said the last time.

>How things did really go so wrong in your life? Better mull it over once again!

Can things go wrong if they’ve never been right in the first place? It’s all your fault things are like this anyways. Your parents abandoned you when you were just a baby so you don’t even remember who they are. Thus you’ve spent your whole life either in an orphanage or with your foster parent who only took you because of the money the city offered them. They made that much clear. Maybe if you were good for something none of this would have happened.

The cafe comes into view. The lights are all off so it’s not looking too hopeful. You give the door a quick pull to confirm it’s locked and look at the open times printed on the glass. They closed at nine. You sigh.

You figure you’re not too far from New Flower Park. Looking at all of the flowers usually makes you feel better, even if most of them aren’t in bloom anymore. You decide to head that way.

Before long the park entrance comes into view. You can see that not too far past the gate there’s someone kneeling next to the ground and doing something with their hands next to what looks like a pile of wood. What is… oh! A small reddish-orange light starts to glow from the wood pile. Are they starting a fire? In the middle of the park? Should somebody stop them?

> Don't bring attention to yourself. Hide back and watch them, if they're doing something illegal run to report it right away.

grab the board, name it boardy. just carry it around, i guess

>do what any citizen would, and take a video with your phone to be uploaded on Youtube

> Don't bring attention to yourself. Hide back and watch them, if they're doing something illegal run to report it right away.

The camera on your phone sucks in general and would likely only manage to capture a bunch of darkness. Plus you don’t have a computer or anything to upload from.

>do what any citizen would, and take a video with your phone to be uploaded on Youtube

You walk up behind one of the pillars in the entryway of the park and peek out from behind it. Now that you’re a little bit closer it seems like they’re making a fire pit.

You realize that you you’ve seen him before. He’s the one who saw you in the alley when you were playing with the board.

It looks like he could be camping in the park based off of that large pot he’s got next to him. That’s not allowed in this park and he’s either dumb or doesn’t care about getting caught because he’s easily visible from the entrance.

You watch as he opens the lid of the pot and starts to drop some vegetables into it. So he’s going to cook something? Is he homeless? At the very least he doesn’t seem to be acting maliciously so you don’t feel a need to run and report him right away. The fire is really starting to pick up. It definitely just looks like a campfire now.

“Are you going to hide behind that pillar all night or are you going to come over?” He says. You look up from the fire and see that he’s looking right at you. CRAP! You quickly retract your head so you’re completely behind the pillar. “If you wish you could sit by the fire for a bit. It is rather cold out tonight. I’ll have some stew in about an hour if you wanna stay for that.” Why is he being so casual about this? Your curiosity of what he's doing and why overweighs your want to avoid social interaction so, steeling your courage, you walk into the park.



You stop once you get within comfortable talking distance with him. He stands up to greet you.

“Oh! Hey, it’s Excalibur! Although I see you’re unarmed at this moment.”

“E-E-Excalibur was the sword.” You say, quietly. “Not t-t-the knight. You’re thinking of King Arthur.”

“Oh. Whoops. I guess you’re right. Well then, Not Excalibur, what is your name? I’m Thomas by the way. Nice to meet you.” He extends his hand out to you.

>Thank you but no thank you. Explain to him that you have a policy not to shake hands with hobos, politely.
>Is he going to tempt you to engage in acts of petty vandalism? You are totally against petty vandalism.

If we get to choose the name, lets make it Cedar. Ask him what he's doing out here and why while you're at it. Casually, of course. Don't want to seem too hostile, after all.

>Thank you but no thank you. Explain to him that you have a policy not to shake hands with hobos, politely.

If we get to choose the name, lets make it Cedar. Ask him what he's doing out here and why while you're at it. Casually, of course. Don't want to seem too hostile, after all.

“I’m Arri. A-a-arri Cedar. But umm…” You look directly at his hand. “A-a-are you a hobo? No offence, but I-I-I don’t shake hands with hobos.”

He laughs. “A hobo? Do I really look that rustic? No, I’m not a hobo. So don’t worry. And more importantly, don’t leave me hanging.” He moves his hand up and down slightly.

You reluctantly give him your hand for a quick shake and then immediately put it back in your hoodie pocket. “Then w-w-what’s with the fire?” You ask.



“Well, you need a fire to make stew!” He says, rather enthusiastically. “It’s not for me though, I already ate before I came out here. I’m going to give it out to the actual hobos and the homeless who live around here. You know, just to help out those who may be down on their luck. You’re welcome to some too if you’d like.”

“So you j-j-just give it away? D-d-do you get anything in return?”

“In return? No... nothing physical anyway. I do get the satisfaction of having helped someone out though. Not much better than that. I couldn’t bring myself to ask for anything anyway.”

“O-oh.”

“Don’t act so surprised! It’s just a little bit of cheap meat and some vegetables. It’d feel weird to ask for something in return.”

You’re silent for a moment.

>Is he going to tempt you to engage in acts of petty vandalism? You are totally against petty vandalism.

“You know t-t-that this *is* illegal right? The f-f-fire. It’s like… vandalism.”

“Pfff. Technically yes, it is. But I know the cops that would even bother patrolling the park at this time and they know what I’m doing. They’re actually supportive! They only ask that I’m careful, which I always am. So you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble for hanging around with me.”

An awkward silence follows.

“So did you want to sit down?” He says after a couple seconds.

You shake your head.

He shrugs before sitting back down himself and taking a couple handfuls of cubed beef from a bag near the fire and dropping into the pot.

“You could probably guess it, but I really enjoy camping,” he says. “I try to make some time a couple times a month to just take a day and hike up into one of the mountains nearby.”

“B-b-by yourself?” You ask. “Isn’t that dangerous?”



“Usually, and it’s not dangerous so long as you’re not stupid. Once or twice I’ve brought a friend but they’d all rather spend the weekend binge watching television or playing video games. Which I totally get. There are some good shows out these days. But I can only stay inside for so long before I start to get… what’s the word? Fidgety?”

“Restless?”

“Yeah, that’s better.” He puts a lid on the pot and seems to haphazardly place it half inside the fire and half on the surrounding rocks.

“I-i-is that how you’re s-s-supposed to do that?”

“Nah not really at all. Normally I’d put up a couple stakes and hang the pot above the fire but I forgot them today so this’ll do. I’ll just have to rotate it and make sure it doesn’t boil over or anything. Should work. Maybe.” He looks up at you. “So Arri. What do you do?”

“W-w-what?”

“Like, what do you do? Do you have a job? Hobbies? Stuff like that.”

“Oh… Umm… I work at the MR’s Convenience store.”

“Ok...” He waits for you to continue. “And that’s it?” He says once you don’t.

You nod.

“No hobbies or anything?”

You shake your head. “I-I-I don’t h-h-have the t-t-time.”

“Really? You’re in school, yes? Is that load pretty big then?”

“No, n-n-not really. I-i-it’s just a bunch of m-m-memorization. I umm… I h-h-have a lot of chores to do.”

“Ah, yup. Parents can be like that sometimes. I lucked out that my family could afford a housekeeper to take care of all that stuff for us. The most I’d ever have to do is clean my room.”

“Must be nice.” You say, mainly to yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at that. “I suppose… but, like, they make you do chores mainly because it helps them. One of them probably has an eight hour work day and it’s nice to come home to a clean house. Right? They do a lot for you, so you should do something in return. That’s how I see it anyway.”



“B-b-b-b-because my p-p-p-parents have d-d-d-d-d-done SO much for m-m-me!”



...



“S-s-s-sorry…”

“N-no. You’re… fine. If anything I’m sorry. Guess I struck a nerve there… Not in good relations with your folks?”

You slump down next to the fire and nod.

Thomas slides a little bit closer. “You get in a fight with them?”

You shake your head. “O-o-orphan.”

“Oh.” His voice is somber. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“I-i-i-it’s just that the only thing they’ve done for me is-is-is just give me away,” You feel tears begin to build up behind your eyes. You almost say more, but you stop. Thomas is looking at you, waiting to see if you'll go into more detail. He looks like… like he cares. It scares you. “W-w-what time is it?” You ask.

“Umm…” He lifts his sleeve to glance at a watch. “A little after ten thirty. Why?”

“I-I-I-I-I have to go. S-s-sorry.” You stand up.

He looks somewhat disappointed for a second. He then stands up and reaches into his pocket. “You have a phone right?” He pulls out a smartphone.

“Y-y-yeah…?”

“Would… uh… would it be alright if we swapped numbers?”

>He's either wealthy and clueless, or trying too hard to appear nice. You do not know which one bothers you more.
>Think of giving him a fake number at first, but then realize how awkward it would be if he tried ringing it right away. Joke's on him though: you can hardly pay your phone bills anyway!
>Take a bus you normally wouldn't just in case he tries to follow you, end up somewhere unfamiliar.

>He's either wealthy and clueless, or trying too hard to appear nice. You do not know which one bothers you more.

You really are unsure. You know he wants something from you but you don’t know what it could be. It’s not exactly like you have much you could give.

>Think of giving him a fake number at first, but then realize how awkward it would be if he tried ringing it right away. Joke's on him though: you can hardly pay your phone bills anyway!

You briefly consider giving him a fake number but decide against it. You don’t want to risk him texting you immediately and him figuring out that you gave him a fake number. You can always block his number later if need be.

In the end you give him a small nod and then tell him your phone number.

“I’ll text you right now so that you can get my number.” He says. A few seconds later you feel your phone vibrate.



You pull it out and see he sent you a text. It reads ‘Yo wassup’.

“Well, since you’ve got to be going, I’ll see you later.” He gives you a wave.

“G-good luck with the s-s-stew.” You say, and then you turn and leave back the way you came. When you’re halfway to the gate of the park you realized that it would be much quicker to just go through the park but you’re not about to turn around and do a walk of shame past him again so you just keep walking. You’ll go around the outside of the park instead.

You walk in silence with just your thoughts. Thoughts about school and work but mainly thoughts about Thomas. Is he really making a stew in the middle of the park to help the homeless? Wouldn’t it make much more sense to make the stew inside of his house and then bring it out? It’s clear to you now that he isn’t homeless. If he was he wouldn’t have a phone like that. But why did he want your phone number? It’s not like you could help him make a stew or anything. Not because you don’t know how but because you don’t have the time or want to. Maybe he was trying to pick you up? He seemed a little too casual for that to be his goal but you can’t be certain. You don’t know why he’d want to. It’s not exactly like you’re desirable. All you did was rant to him a little bit about stuff that doesn’t concern him. Like an Idiot.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of someone yelling at someone else to hurry up or they’ll miss their bus. You look across the street and see the bus station along with a small group of people lined up. The person at the end of the line is waving for someone who’s further down the sidewalk to speed up.

>Take a bus you normally wouldn't just in case he tries to follow you, end up somewhere unfamiliar.

You turn to look behind you. You really don’t think he’d follow you home. Even if he was you can’t just go somewhere completely different. You really need to get back. If not because you should have been home an hour ago but because you’re tired. Really tired. You keep walking.



After not much longer you’re standing outside the fence to your house. You look up at all of the windows. You can’t see any lights on inside. You often find yourself standing here, hoping for the small chance that she’s already asleep. This time she might actually be.

You gingerly open the gate and walk up to the door. You turn the key, twist the knob, and open the door slowly. It squeaks a little in protest. You step inside and close the door behind you. Silence. You take a deep breath. This is surprisingly nice.

You kick off your shoes and leave them in the cubby by the door. You tiptoe your way over to the dining room table and pull out your paycheck. You sigh as you set it down. Maybe this time she won’t waste it booze and potato chips.

Since there’s nothing for you to do down here you head over to the stairs. You creep up them, keeping to the left edge to minimize any noise they may create. Honestly this house is about to start falling apart. You reach the top of the stairs and walk down the hallway full of practically dollar-store paintings and enter the first door on the left, your room.



As you close the door quietly behind you, you look around your room. Everything seems to be where you left it. Not that there’s much to move around anyway. Just the bed, dresser, desk, and your stack of books that are in the corner of the room. You like them there because they really round out the rest of the room. Which is ironic, you think. Because books are rectangular.

Examine your doodle on the table. What is it of?

>Strip and go to bed, see restless dreams.

Examine your doodle on the table. What is it of?

Oh crap, you left that out!? You hope nobody saw it. You walk over to your desk and pick it up.



Yikes. This is sorta terrifying. Now you really hope nobody saw it. You slide it under the book to your left. You’ll have to decide how to destroy it later.

take a moment to read something from your stack of books. It's late, but it'll give your brain a reason to calm down and stop thinking about strangers in the park or your stressful home here.

You wouldn’t mind some light reading right now. However all of the books in the corner, along with the one on your desk, are books you have for school. Math, history, economics, and biology. You make a mental note to check out the school library tomorrow and see if they have any good fiction. You don’t work tomorrow, so hopefully you don’t have too much homework. It’s been awhile since you’ve read anything casually.

>Strip and go to bed, see restless dreams.

No point in staying up any later; you’ve got school in six hours. You strip off your hoodie, replace your pants with shorts, put your phone on your dresser, flick off the light, and then you slip under the covers on your bed.

You take a deep breath as you stare at the stucco covered ceiling. You manage to not think about Thomas mainly because you don’t know what to think of him. Other than he’s pretty odd but you think he’s relatively harmless. You hope anyway.

After a few minutes you drift off into sleep.

You awake the next morning to the sound of your alarm. It gently pulls you from your sleep as it’s not very loud and it’s an acoustic instrumental song. You lie there with your eyes still closed for several minutes, just trying to enjoy the last few moments of sleep.

After the song loops three times you know it’s time for you to get up. You open your eyes and reach over to your phone and dismiss the alarm. You sit on the edge of your bed, rubbing at your eyes. You slept all the way through the night.



You stare blankly over at the dresser. You think to yourself how you need to go over there and get dressed for school. However, you just keep sitting on the edge of your bed. Your pillow is singing wonderful songs about how you should rest your head back down and close your eyes. That doing so would be worth the retribution -- not that doing so would be wrong.

>Maybe you can miss the first class, and if you miss the first then you can just as well miss the second.
>Wake up at noon and wander in the park feeling shitty about yourself instead.

I like her sleepyhead face!

>None of that quitter talk, go get some caffeine. A whole lot of it.

don't destroy the doodle. fold it up and then leave it somewhere where someone will find it. name it tim. as in, draw an arrow pointing to it and calling it "tim". make sure not to give any sort of context for anything. and don't forget to not be caught planting the doodle.

>Maybe you can miss the first class, and if you miss the first then you can just as well miss the second.

It’s true that you’re a little bit ahead in your first period. It’s English so you’d likely just continue reading the packet of different poems that got passed out. You happen to really like poetry so you’ve already read and analyzed all of it.

>None of that quitter talk, go get some caffeine. A whole lot of it.

You can’t drink caffeine. Or, rather, you don’t like to. It makes you feel all jittery. It’s mornings like this that make you wish that wasn’t the case.

You rub at your eyes and yawn as you come to the conclusion that you’ve already sat up and that’s at least sixty percent of the battle so you can’t admit defeat now. You stand up and walk over to the dresser. You retrieve and change into your school uniform before you head out of your room and into the bathroom.



As you look into the mirror, you note that you could really use a brush; your hair is a mess. Even more so than usual. You straighten it out as best you can with just your hands, give your teeth a quick brush and then give yourself half-hearted finger guns before exiting. You resolve to tackle today head-on and that you’re going to feel OK by the end of it.

>Don't destroy the doodle. fold it up and then leave it somewhere where someone will find it. name it tim. as in, draw an arrow pointing to it and calling it "tim". make sure not to give any sort of context for anything. and don't forget to not be caught planting the doodle.

As you approach your desk to gather your school supplies you remember the drawing you hid under this book. You seriously don’t want anyone to see this. Even if they don’t know it was you who drew it. It’s too terrible for this world. You retrieve it from under the book, crumple it up into a ball and toss it into your backpack. You’ll throw it in the dumpster at the school. That way--

> Receive a phone call?

You lose your train of thought as your phone’s ring pierces the silence. You look over at it, at the foot of the bed. A phone call? You pick it up and flip it open. It’s not your work. Although you suppose it would be odd for them to call you in the morning so you shouldn’t be surprised. Your thumb is hovering over the answer call button as you try to psych yourself up to answer until you notice the time in the top corner. 5:40am. You were supposed to leave five minutes ago. You deny the call and shove your phone into your backpack and then you rush down the stairs and out the front door. You shiver as the cool morning air surrounds you so you button up your jacket.



On your way to school you think about how these uniforms would really benefit from being warmer. You don’t see the harm in trading out the thin jacket for a thicker vest or perhaps a sweater as even in the summer it never gets that hot.

You barely manage to make it to your first class with less than a minute to spare. The school day is the same as every school day that preceded it. English, math, history, chemistry, and finally culinary arts. The day drags on, but luckily it eventually passes and you’re left with the rest of the day to yourself. By that you mean the next three hours. You have to be home at five. You originally intended to go to the library after school today to find a book, but you could also just take a walk around the town and skip the book. You’re thinking that maybe you should just go home when you suddenly remember Thomas. You pull your phone out of your backpack to see if he’s texted you or anything. You have an unread message from thirty minutes ago. You open it up.

‘Hey, Arrie!’ It reads. It’s from the number Thomas texted you from last night. You frown. He spelt your name wrong.

>Go to the library to get a book on spelling, 'cause it looks like someone really needs it.

Are there any old books, as in books from at least 20 years ago, or is the library a wimpy newbook library?

>Don't reply to him yet, it might give him the idea that you're interested in whatever he's offering.
>Turn a corner and run into him instead.

>Don't reply to him yet, it might give him the idea that you're interested in whatever he's offering.

>Go to the library to get a book on spelling, 'cause it looks like someone really needs it.

Sick burn, dude.



You start walking down the hall towards the library. You’ll find a book and then maybe see what Thomas wants.

Are there any old books, as in books from at least 20 years ago, or is the library a wimpy newbook library?

You’d be surprised if this library had any books younger than 20 years old. Clearly the school doesn’t invest much of its budget towards getting new books. You don’t really mind though. Old books are fine. Although a few of the informational ones teach theories and ideas that have since been disproved or are straight up bigoted.

You cross the threshold from the hallway and into the library. You almost instantly sneeze as your nose is assaulted by the intense scent of dust. Truly the librarian really sucks at their job. You’ve never seen them anywhere other than behind the desk reading what you think is the same book. She never dusts or organizes anything. As such, all of the books are in disarray because, well, this is a high school full of high-schoolers. You come here occasionally and you do your best to keep the books off the floor but that’s about all you could hope to do.



As you walk further into the library you look at the shelves. They’re all a mess. Filled with books from all sorts of different genres, all facing different directions. Someone even left a cup from a fastfood place and based on how much has leaked out from the bottom of it it’s been there for quite a while. You pick it up and toss it in a trashcan that’s literally ten feet away.

You stop once you reach the back left corner. This is where all of the good books are. Well, they’re at least in the best condition because no one comes back here. You gaze over the somewhat small selection, reading the names of all the books. ‘The Wink’, ‘Prejudicing with Pride’, ‘Mocking the Bird Killer’, ‘An Adequiet Soldier’, and then there’s a few poetry books. You pick up the one titled ‘The Mildew Is In The Calm Dewdrops’ and flip to a random page and read the first poem you see.

‘If aliens are so smart
Then why don’t they start
Making their spaceships look like airplanes
That way we’d just point to the sky and say
An airplane
How commonplace and not at all suspect.’



Wow, ok. Is that even a poetry? Either way you think you’re sold on checking out this book. You close it and start walking back to the front counter. As you walk you pull out your phone and start thinking about what to respond to Thomas with. Eventually you settle on a basic, if slightly lame, one.

‘Hi.’ You reply.

You check out the book at the front desk and then sit on a bench directly outside the door to the library, staring at your phone while you wait for a response.

After a few minutes your phone dings.

‘Are you free later tonight? Around 5?’

Technically, yes. But you’ve got a really early curfew.

‘Sorta. Why?’ You write.

‘They’re going to play a movie at the football field off Heward st thought maybe you’d like to go.’

You don’t know what could have made him think that. You vaguely remember some people talking about the movie though. Some sort of anniversary celebration. Likely the construction of the field. You don’t think you’d mind going. You don’t get to watch movies too often. Mainly just when you visit the hospital on Saturdays but those are only horror movies and you just make fun of them so you aren't going to count them. Even so, you can’t say that you really want to go. ‘I’ll have to see if i have the time.’ you say.

“No phones in the hallway.” A teacher says as he passes by.

“S-sorry!” You say, quickly putting it back in your bag. You'll just head outside.

You leave out the front doors and head across the street. You pull your phone back out to see if Thomas said anything.

>Turn a corner and run into him instead.

As you round the corner you bump shoulders with him instead.

“My bad!,” he says. He's turns to keep walking but gives you a double take. “Do I… oh! Arri?”

You just nod while thinking to yourself that it really is a small world.

“Wow. I almost didn't recognize you without your hood.” He pauses for a moment.



“So you're not sure if you can make it, huh?”

“Y-y-yeah. I have a… c-curfew.” You say, a little embarrassed by it.

“Pfft. The movie won't be THAT long.” He says. “If it actually starts at five, it'll probably just go until a little after six.”

“I-I-I have to be home at f-f-five.” You say, quietly.

“Really now? And I thought a curfew at eleven was early. Dang.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “What if, theoretically, you had to stay late at school to help them… clean up after an event? Would your guardian let you stay out late then? I'm pretty sure today is when T.H.S is hosting that charity walk too.”

You're about to ask him how he knew you when to T.H.S but then you remember that you're wearing the school uniform.

You shrug. “I-I-I have to go.” You turn to leave.

“O-oh. Okay then. Let me know if you end up being able to go. I’d like to get to know you better, really.”

No, he wants something from you. Nobody pays you any mind unless they do. You start walking in the direction of your house.

>Well, if he wants something from you, the easiest way to find out is to go to the movie with him. Whatever he wants, it doesn't count if you go as a spy disguised as yourself. This is logical and reasonable.