Chapter Text
And then they went fishing
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
Rick knew this was the gospel truth the moment his family had arrived at their new home. The impressive entrance to this brand-new development was flanked by two thick marble columns and adorned by a stylish sign that read in golden letters: Hilltop Estates. They had got to be kidding him.
They had left their old home in Trenton, New Jersey. Had moved to New Hope, Pennsylvania, a small town north of Philadelphia, in the hopes that a new state, a new neighborhood, a new job for Rick’s dad Jim and a new school for Rick would help leave it all behind. Start over, make things better, heal this family.
But now, half a year later, it was obvious that they had followed a mirage. It was impossible to leave sorrows, problems and memories behind by merely changing the location. They brought them along to Pennsylvania and nothing had changed. Not one single thing. Save perhaps for the fact that Rick was even more alone than he had been before.
Even before the boxes had been unpacked his dad had been on his cell again, calling his new employer, and Rick couldn’t help the impression that he had stayed on that phone for the past six months straight. He barely ever saw his father without it, just the way it had been back in Jersey. If Jim Grimes was home at all and not in some meeting, at appointments with clients or golfing with his partners from the law office, he was talking on the phone to people he apparently considered more important than his wife Catherine and his 15-year-old son.
Even when he was home, he was not. And whatever Rick would have wanted and needed to talk to his father about never found any room, any time in Jim’s life.
He was a good man nevertheless. Rick told himself so time and again to be able to still believe in it. His dad worked 24/7 to provide a good living and there wasn’t a thing that money could buy Rick and his mom were missing. Jim Grimes had just forgotten at one point how to be a father and a husband, next to being a successful lawyer. He forgot how to have fun, how to relax, how to distinguish between his work and things that were really important. And then, maybe he had to in order to move on, to put the past behind himself, to find a meaning in the present and hope for the future. They all had their load to carry and while Rick and Catherine would have needed him one way or the other, maybe he didn’t find in them what he really needed.
Who could have blamed him? What kind of support were a teenage boy and a mentally unstable and weak person like his mom?
Catherine Grimes was a beauty with her big azure blue eyes and the long, thick blonde curls. She was slim and perfectly shaped and walked with the lightness and grace of a deer.
But these days those pretty eyes were clouded over by sorrow and pain and too often just stared blankly ahead without really seeing anything. She was taking antidepressants that left her numb most days and she, too, was never really there.
How can you expect support and warmth from a wife, who looks right through you? How do you tell your teenage worries to a mother, who can barely shoulder her own problems?
Catherine was fragile, absent-minded, lost in her own world and more days than not just sat brooding on the back porch, stared into the distance where she saw something no one else was able to see and cried silently. Nothing and nobody was able to pull her out of the dark abyss she had fallen into and Jim as well as Rick had stopped trying. They all needed each other and yet could not supply the help that was required to end this vicious circle of running and hiding and hoping for a miracle.
Jim had fled into his work, which distracted him and gave him something to do, while Catherine went through the motions from day to day without really knowing why. And Rick? He was caught in between, lost and alone in the silence, feeling like he was screaming at the top of his lungs without anyone ever hearing him.
*****
Daryl Dixon would have wished for silence, for his father to ignore him, if only for one single day. Wasn’t it funny how one man’s curse could be another man’s blessing?
It was late, probably past midnight, but Will Dixon didn’t care about other people’s weird desire to sleep at that time of the day. If he felt the need to yell and rampage, he would, no matter who heard him or what time it was. Who’d call the cops in this neighborhood? And even if someone did, they probably wouldn’t even come.
The Terminus trailer park was the end of the line. Nobody, who had ended up here or had the ill fate of being born into this ghetto was likely to ever leave it. The place had a reputation and it stuck to its inhabitants like a stigma that was impossible to shed.
It was a waste of time to apply for a job anywhere, because as soon as the address came up the job was already taken, dollars to donuts. Not that most of the people living here had ever applied for a job at all. Working themselves to death wouldn’t be their problem – alcohol, drugs, violence or suicide however were likely options to leave this place after all.
There were days 16-year-old Daryl wondered which it would be for him and his dad one day. Whether he would even live to see Will Dixon drink himself to death or if his dad would have gotten him killed long before that.
Today was one of the days the older Dixon had sure tried his best to be successful in ending his son’s miserable life.
When he had come home from his bender that night, he had expected to find something in the fridge. That wasn’t asking too much for letting the worthless little maggot live in his trailer and breathe precious air, right? That useless boy didn’t have anything else to do but be out there and procure food, more booze and smokes.
Will had made sure his older son Merle had learned hunting and stealing as soon as he was able to walk and it had been Merle’s job to pass that knowledge on to his younger brother. How difficult could it be, for Christ’s sake?
Merle had supplied well, but he wasn’t here now and Daryl … that boy was as useful as a hole in the head. There hadn’t been a thing in the fridge when Will had come back. Not even the fucking light had worked in there to illuminate the emptiness. And where had he found him? Hiding in his bed with the covers pulled over his head as though that was going to save him from being punished for his laziness.
Daryl was hiding underneath the trailer now, suppressing a sob and shivering violently due to the pain as well as the fear that his dad would come out and look for him.
He’d been out in the woods hunting earlier that day, desperately trying to catch something, because he was well aware of what was in store for him if he didn’t provide.
But he had sprained his ankle after about an hour out there, cursing himself for being so clumsy. Still he had moved on, had followed the track of a deer deeper into the woods until the pain had gotten unbearable and he could barely walk anymore.
It had taken him the better part of the afternoon to get back home and as soon as he had limped into the trailer park, kind and motherly Mrs. Morales from next door had spotted him and gently, yet insistantly urged him to sit down and cool the ankle.
She was a gentle Mexican lady, but she had an iron will and wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, even left her six-year-old son Louis with him for company. In other words, to keep an eye on him and make sure he wasn’t leaving before she gave her approval.
Miranda Morales had meant well, but she had done more harm than good.
Daryl hadn’t caught anything that day, not even a single squirrel. There was no booze and only one cigarette left in an old pack Merle forgot.
The boy knew what was going to happen before Will Dixon’s loud and heavy footsteps had approached the trailer. He couldn’t even run with the hurt ankle and there was no place to hide in the small, dirty shithole they were living in. All he could do was wait for the inevitable and try to escape to a beautiful and safe place in his mind, while his father’s belt had whipped down on his back.
He had long since stopped crying when it happened and he knew better than to scream and alert the neighbors, although he doubted that anyone would have come to help.
For the most part they didn’t give a damn or did the same to their own children and the rest, the few decent people around here, they were afraid of Will Dixon and they were wise to stay out of his business.
The teenager curled into a ball and hugged himself, trying to calm down while he waited for the the pain to subside.
Tomorrow would be a better day. His ankle would probably be better and he’d go into the woods again and surely this time he’d catch something – he had to. And one day Merle would keep his promise and get him out of here.
“Mark ma words, li’l brother”, Merle had told him a year ago, “ ‘m gonna find a job ‘n’ make enough money ta get us a place of our own. ‘n’ then we gonna get outta here ‘n’ never look back. We get ta finally live. You 'n' me, Daryl, the Dixon brothers. Ain’t no one gonna stop that from happenin’.”
“I trusted ya, ya dumbass”, Daryl muttered into the darkness. “Ya promised! Ya said ya was gonna get me outta here, but instead ya left me alone. Ya promised, Merle!”
A single tear ran down his cheek and stubbornly the boy wiped it away with the sleeve of his dirty and torn shirt.
He couldn’t even blame his brother for not trying to keep his promise. He had.
What he did blame him for was the way he had tried to keep it. Maybe Merle had had the best intentions to find a decent job and make enough money to enable a new start some place else, but the older brother didn’t just come from the wrong side of town, he looked it, too. Merle was a petty criminal – had stolen in grocery and liquor stores and had swiped one or the other wallet and purse – but he had a face that yelled “bank robbery and armed assault”. No one trusted him. No one liked him. No one in their right mind would have given him an honest job.
So Merle had found his own way of making money in order to leave Terminus with his brother quickly and for good – he had tried to rob Tomas’ bar down the road.
That was the place their old man and Merle himself had spent more than one night at, and where they had left quite a lot of money that they had better spent on food or new clothes.
Merle had probably figured Tomas owed him and he knew the place was making good money on a Saturday night. He should have known Tomas was even worse scum than all the people living in Terminus together. While Merle had only had a very impressive looking, yet rather harmless air rifle on him, Tomas had a real gun – and he had held Merle at gun point long enough for the cops to show up eventually and book him.
Air rifle or not, this had been armed assault and that in addition to the minor offenses in his record had led to a five-year-sentence, no parole this time.
So Merle was the only one of them who got out and left this place. Maybe he was even better off where he was now, for how could it possibly get any worse than this? If he was threatened and beaten where he was living now, at least it wasn’t by his own father.
“Damn ya, Merle. Ya never kept yer promises. Not one single one in all a’ ‘em years.”
Daryl let out his breath in a heavy sigh and cautiously ran two fingers over his face. He didn’t even have to see or feel it to know his lip was cracked, because the coppery taste of blood was evidence enough. The skin around his left eye was swollen and sensitive to his touch and the boy let out another sigh.
Perfect timing. If it hadn’t been summer holidays anyhow, this would have meant no school for at least a week. He was going to sport an impressive black eye in the morning and while he was able to tell the people in Terminus he had accidentally punched the crossbow he used for hunting in his face, one or two of his teachers might not have been so easily convinced.
It wasn’t the best school in the county, but there were teachers there, who actually cared for the children in their care, whether they came from some middle class family or the ghetto. And child abuse was something especially teachers and the parents of the lucky kids at school did not tolerate.
Daryl didn’t want questions or some social worker showing up on their doorstep. There was nothing anyone could have done to help him and if he was to cause any more trouble, there was no telling what his pa would do to him next. This had to remain a secret. What happened in Terminus, stayed in Terminus.
School was a waste of time for him anyhow. What sense was there in learning about geography, if he would never go anywhere? What sense was there in learning about history, when people only ever repeated old mistakes and nothing ever got better? He had his own future to worry about, not the past of people long dead. There was no sense in learning about grammar or spelling, either. Even if he was to write a book on his pitiful life, who would want to read it? He could have written his last will, but there was nothing to bequeath, no one who would give a damn anyway, so why bother?
Nothing he was able to learn at school would get him food on the table the next day or teach him how to survive Will Dixon. What he needed to learn was to track and hunt even better than he was already able to, shoot without ever missing, be even more quiet when following the game and not sprain any ankles in the future. He had to provide, become invisible when his father was in a bad mood, which was almost daily, and just survive somehow. He didn’t need any school for that.
What he would have needed right now was someone to show him how to not lose hope, someone to give him a reason to go on at all.
***
A week passed and the heat and humidity of the East Coast summer came to its peak when the temperatures moved beyond the 100°F mark that mid August day.
Inside the Grimes’ residence however it appeared to be as cold as December and the running air conditioner had nothing to do with it.
Rick had to get out of there. He felt as though he’d been frozen to the core by the isolation and silence in this house and although they had lived in this town for half a year now, he still hadn’t been able to make any friends or get acquainted enough to call this place home.
Once in a while he had met with a few of the guys from school to go to the movies or just hang out, but going to the movies or the mall wasn’t easy living in the middle of nowhere with no means of transportation.
He depended on someone driving him, but his father was barely ever home and his mother was on valium more often than not these days, unable to walk straight, much less drive a car.
Those other guys had gotten annoyed with Rick quite quickly and considered his lack of independence and mobility a major burden to their precious leisure time activities.
Not that Rick would have cared all that much, since going to the movies or hanging out at some mall had bored him to tears after a while anyhow and he hadn’t really connected to either of those boys.
They were idiots, whose only goal in life was wasting money and brag with their parents’ success. It was a steady competition of whose father drove the bigger car, which house had the most bedrooms and bathrooms, which pool was the largest, whose mom was the most popular and prettiest (as in, which one had the most plastic surgeries done yet) and who of them had the most expensive bike, cell, stereo, TV, computer and so on and so forth.
It was tiring, shallow, exhausting, stupid.
Jim worked like a man possessed and made good money, but the Grimes weren’t nearly as rich as some of the other families and Rick never stood a chance in those verbal sparring matches. Not that he had ever attempted to.
He would have loved to have a real conversation with someone for a change. Someone who would talk about things money could not buy, someone who was able to enjoy all the nice things that were for free and available to everyone and were invaluable nevertheless.
Rick hadn’t set a foot into the woods ever since they moved here, but today would be the day. He had to get out of this house, out of this snobbish development, out of this town and away from all these people. A walk in the woods, listening to the birds sing and the shady and soft forest floor covered with dry leaves to rest on – a peaceful quietness, not a disturbing one, that’s what he needed right now. A place to breathe freely, to just enjoy the wind in his hair and the sun on his face and forget, if only for a while.
******
Daryl panted heavily and cursed under his breath, not for the first time since he had started to follow his game. Damn, that deer was as clever as it was fast, but most importantly it wasn’t in the least bothered by the sticky, hot air.
It was shady under the green canopy of leaves, but that didn’t make the heat any more bearable. On the contrary. Between the trees there was no breeze and the treetops were like a roof that prevented the warm air to rise and circulate. It was a damn oven in there, the boy was eaten alive by mosquitoes and horseflies and had run out of water an hour ago. But he couldn’t give up, couldn’t go home without having caught anything – again.
He wiped the sweat from his brows and leaned heavily against a tree for a moment as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
The black eye had faded by now, but it was still noticeable to anyone who looked closely enough. It was a blessing and a curse alike that no one ever did. The new welts his father’s belt had left on his back were a map of reddish and itching streaks that burned, now that sweat had soaked his shirt. And once in a while, especially after running for hours, his ankle started to protest again, but there was no stopping.
With a heavy sigh he pushed himself off the tree trunk and stumbled into the direction the deer had fled in. The next moment the world started to turn and go black around him, a myriad of dancing stars the last thing he saw before he dropped onto his knees, barely holding on to consciousness.
This was no use. He had to find water first and take a break, cool off, catch his breath. Getting a heat stroke out here all by himself was anything but desirable. Despite feeling nauseous and dizzy and the pressing need to bring home something to eat today, a smile played around the boy’s lips for a moment. The lake!
There was a small forest lake nearby and it was his favorite place in the world. The water was crystal clear and swarming with fish that could multiply and grow unbothered around here, because save for Daryl no one ever came here.
Years ago Merle had dragged an old boat to the lake for them to fish in, but they both were way better at hunting than at fishing and soon the old boat had sprung a leak and was an odd kind of shore decoration now, sitting in the shallow water half sunken and slowly corroding. At first Daryl had considered asking Merle to remove it, but now he actually liked it just like that – it was a kind of idyllic picture and at the same time a symbol of nature’s superiority over mankind.
Sometimes Daryl wondered if the world weren’t better off without people. Especially people like his pa, whose existence was totally and entirely useless and nothing but pathetic. Same as his own.
Years from now the old boat would probably have sunken entirely or fallen apart, but the lake would still be here. And it would remain being here, swarming with fish, when the former owners of the old boat were long dead and forgotten.
Daryl respected nature and appreciated it and he seemed to be rewarded for that with enough food most days and a place he could draw strength from and that felt more like home than any other place ever could. Out in the woods and at that lake he felt like he belonged.
The boy struggled back to his feet, slung the crossbow over his shoulder and headed towards the lifesaving waters with weary steps.
He was grateful and surprised at the same time that no one else ever came out here. All the people living in town, especially those in the rich new development, apparently loved nature best when they were able to sit on their back porches with a cool drink and were able to look at it from afar.
They moved to the country site to brag to their friends and families in the city how beautiful it was out here, how peaceful and quiet with fresh air, the woods and the meadows. But they wouldn’t dream of setting foot into the wilderness and risk getting their designer clothes and expensive Italian shoes dirty.
Daryl couldn’t help a contemptuous snort. Idiots. But all the better – the last thing he needed was those snobs trampling through the woods, scaring off his game or taint his favorite place in the world.
He heard the loud and agitated voice long before he could see the shimmering water of the lake glitter through the trees, and his pulse rate picked up instantly.
Raised voices always had that effect on him, especially when it was a male voice shouting, like now.
“God damnit! The hell’s the matter around here? Come on, you stupid …”
The rest of the tirade faded into an unintelligible cursing under the person’s breath while Daryl slowly drew closer, cautious to stay invisible in the shadows of the trees.
The owner of the agitated voice was a boy about his age, who was frantically hurrying in each direction in turns, his arm raised as high as only possible with a cell phone in his hand, which apparently was the futile attempt to get a signal out here.
“Oh brother”, Daryl muttered to himself, “city boy lost in the woods and unable to survive without his damn cell.”
He could have helped him, could have just walked over to that boy now and offer to point him into the right direction, but something had him stay put.
He didn’t know who that was, had never seen him before, and Daryl didn’t trust easily. Why should he? People had never given him any reason to trust them. There was no telling if that boy was really alone and what he came out here for in the first place, so Daryl decided to wait a while and watch. See what kind of person he was dealing with.
Rick dropped his arm and drew a couple of deep breaths in order to calm his frantically beating heart. Damn.
The moment he had stepped into these woods he had felt like Alice after she had dropped into the rabbit hole. This was another world, much more beautiful and enchanting than he had imagined. It wasn’t just trees and bushes. It was light cascading through the canopy in visible, glittering rays and wind playing with the leaves, whispering to him. Birds singing in countless voices that would have put any choir to shame and small animals rustling in the underbrush.
It was magical and Rick had felt at peace, free and actually happy like he hadn’t felt in months, maybe years.
He hadn’t paid attention to where he was going. Had just proceeded deeper and deeper into the green wilderness without minding the way or the time or anything else than the beauty that surrounded him. When he had stepped onto the clearing and had found the small lake he had gasped in awe, for this must have been the most beautiful place he had ever seen.
The lake was surrounded by trees save for an almost beach-like sandy shore to the side facing him. The water was clear and blue and was almost calling out to him to take a swim, refresh his body as well as his soul and forget about the rest of the world.
And he might have – if a half sunken boat hadn’t reminded him that the rest of the world was still out there and that sooner or later he would have to go home. Home. Even before he had started to ponder whether or not the Grimes’ residence even deserved that name, he had realized with a twinge of panic that he had no idea how he got here, where exactly he was and how to get back.
For the first time in hours he had taken his cell out of his pocket and hadn’t even been surprised to not have a signal. This was no-man’s-land. No one needed cell phone service out here – except maybe some dumbass from Jersey, who didn’t pay attention to where he was going.
He recognized the spot where he had left the woods, but looking back to the front row of trees now, Rick realized that he had no idea in which direction to proceed from there. And if he took his chances and just followed his nose, he might end up running in circles or heading even deeper into these woods. This wasn’t Canada and it was unlikely for this forest to be as large as the ones they had up there, but large enough to get lost for … a night? Another day? Several days?
Just the prospect of having to spend the night alone out here sent shivers down Rick’s spine despite the heat.
Well, there wasn’t much sense in panicking. He would think of something. Maybe he could climb one of the larger trees? Even if his cell still wasn’t working up there, he might have been able to see the town and get a bearing that way. Then again – he was probably as much of a navigator as the former captain of the little boat there.
With a sigh Rick put the cell away and walked over to the lake. The water did look inviting and why let a good opportunity go to waste? He was hot, he was thirsty and he was lost. Nothing he could do about the latter, but he could take care of two out of three problems – that sure was a start.
Daryl peeked around the large tree he was hiding behind and watched the other boy take his shoes and socks off and dip his toes into the water.
“He’s gonna pull back”, he thought with an eye-roll.
He knew the water was cold, save perhaps for the shallow part surrounding the boat, but a city kid like that guy there was probably used to heated pools and hot bathtubs and would get chilblains if his drink was too cold.
When he watched Rick walk further into the water without hesitation, Daryl lifted one eyebrow in appreciation. The other eyebrow followed when in the next moment the city kid scooped some water into his hands and actually drank it, before repeating the motion and splashing the refreshing liquid into his face and over his head. This was new.
Whenever Daryl had come across some of those rich kids in town, they had been styled from head to toe and wouldn’t want to be found dead with an unruly mess of curls like the boy over there was sporting now.
And the peak of ridiculousness were those bottles of Evian and the likes, for the water they contained tasted no different than tap water or the water from this lake, yet cost an absurd amount of money. Daryl never thought he’d see the day one of them would drink water from his lake without so much as wrinkle his nose.
A pretty nose as far as he was able to see from the distance. Pretty curls, too. And those bowlegs that now stuck knee-deep in the lake …
“The hell, Dixon. Ya got a heat struck after all?” Daryl chided himself.
Where had those thoughts come from all of a sudden?
The curly-haired boy stood motionless in the water for a moment and let his eyes wander over the smooth surface, then suddenly he tried to grab a fish that swam by. He didn’t even get close to it, but laughed when the water splashed in his face and he almost lost his balance.
It was an amused, light laughter, but not quite as carefree as Daryl had expected.
Before he could wonder about that, Rick turned around and walked back to shore. He ran his hand almost tenderly over the rail of the boat on passing it and said softly:
“Stuck here, too, huh?”
After he had dropped heavily onto the ‘beach’, he pulled out his cell once again as though a miracle had happened in the meantime and he’d be able to call for help, but of course that wasn’t the case. He was in trouble and had best think of something soon. Climb a tree after all?
“Hey!”
The voice behind him had Rick almost jump out of his skin and he was on his feet in a flash. For a split second he was scared to death when he realized that he was all alone out here. No one knew where he was, no one would come to his aid and there was no telling what kind of people roamed these woods.
A second later he relaxed. This people was a boy about his age with shoulder-length dark, shaggy hair and a crossbow slung over his shoulder. Wait a second – a crossbow?
Before Rick could follow that train of thought the other boy spoke again.
“Got a problem, dude?”
That actually sounded funny and the boy’s voice was way deeper than Rick would have expected of someone his age. When he noticed the grin that spread over Rick’s face, Daryl’s shadow blue cat eyes narrowed even further.
“Whadda ya grinnin’ at, jackass? I say somethin’ funny?”
“No. Sorry. I mean … no, I was just …”
“Jeez, get a grip, man, will ya? Ain’t got all day. Ya need help now or what?”
Rick breathed in deep to pull himself together. First the crossbow, then the voice and the way that guy was talking and now a clearly defensive attitude – Rick was taken off guard by all of that. This boy sure was different than the ones at school.
“Yeah, I need help. I’ve lost my way.”
Daryl cocked his head and his long bangs fell away from his eyes long enough to cast the other boy a meaningful look.
“There ain’t no such thing as losin’ yer way. Ya just gotta open yer eyes.”
Rick felt annoyance seethe deep down inside. Who the heck did that guy think he was? First he scared the shit out of him and now he was holding lectures instead of just showing him the way?
“If you’re so damn smart, why don’t you open your eyes and tell me where I came from?”
Daryl shrugged entirely unimpressed.
“Piece a’ cake. Just gimme a sec. Gotta have somethin’ ta drink first ‘n’ then ‘m gonna take ya greenhorn back home.”
While Daryl took a few thirsty gulps by dipping his face straight into the water without bothering to use his hands, Rick pulled his cell out one more time and started pacing the clearing for one last try.
“Will ya stop that? Ya been ruinin’ the track enough already runnin’ ‘bout like a headless chicken.”
He had pulled out his canteen and was refilling it, while he cast the greenhorn a chiding glance.
“How do you know I’ve been running about?” Rick asked suspiciously and got yet another shrug for an answer, while Daryl came walking towards him.
“Don’t take no genius ta see that. The place looks as if a bunch a’ wild boars ‘s been through here.”
Rick opened his mouth to protest, but chose to ignore the comment when Daryl walked past him and started scanning the area. He crouched here, moved to another spot and looked closer there, before he pointed at the trees the next moment.
“That way. Let’s go.”
The first ten minutes they walked in silence, Daryl leading the way and Rick following him, praying to God that strange boy knew what he was doing. It would be bad enough having to spend the night out in the woods, but having to spend it with that guy after they had both gotten lost?
Just now he crouched for the umpteenth time to inspect the ground, then nodded to himself wordlessly and pointed into a new direction, instantly taking the lead again.
Rick couldn’t keep quiet a moment longer.
“You’re shitting me, right? I don’t see a thing down there. Can you really tell where I walked?”
“ ‘s easy. Ya been tramplin’ through here like an elephant. Coulda tracked ya when I ‘s three.”
“Looks like you spend lots of time in the woods then. Got nothing better to do?”
Daryl stopped dead in his tracks and cast a dark look over his shoulder. It was deadly quiet for a moment and Rick couldn’t help the feeling that he had just put his foot in it with that guy.
“Sorry”, Rick said cautiously. “Looks like I said something wrong and …”
“Looks like ya best kept yer mouth shut now, smartass, unless ya wanna be left standin’ here ta find yer way by yerself. I know ma way home. Spend lots a’ time in ‘em woods, ya know.”
Pungent sarcasm. Maybe Rick deserved that now, although he wasn’t sure what he had said that was so terrible.
They kept walking and Daryl found the track faster and easier as they proceeded. Rick was fascinated. He still didn’t see anything in between the dry leaves, the dirt and grass and layers of beechnuts and acorns, but Daryl apparently was able to read the forest floor like a map.
As they were walking Rick secretly gave the other boy a scrutiny.
One thing was more than obvious – he was not living in the Hilltop Estates or any other place similar to the neighborhood Rick came from. The clothes were old and worn, dirty, sweaty and partially torn, and from the looks of it originally bought at Wal-Mart or some second-hand store.
Just once, Rick couldn’t help thinking, just once he would have loved to be allowed an attire like that. No designer clothes, no expensive brands, no having to be neat and clean and tidy and presentable any time of the day. He was tired of keeping up appearances 24/7, being under the watchful eyes of the neighbors, teachers, the kids at school and their parents, everybody.
It must have been great to be as free as that guy obviously was. Free to spend the day out in the woods, free to not give a damn about appearances and just do what was fun without having to live up to someone’s expectations at all times.
“Like your vest”, Rick said unexpectedly and he couldn’t even tell why he had said that.
It was true though, he did like the other boy’s vest. It was made of black denim with white angel wings attached to the back and to Rick it looked downright cool.
Way cooler than his Tommy Hilfiger t-shirt, the Reebok shorts and Nike sneakers he was wearing. Even his casual leisure time attire probably cost more than all the clothes in that guy’s closet together, but that didn’t make them more comfortable or unique.
Rick would have killed for one single special piece like that angel wing vest. One piece that was him, distinguished him from the rest, gave him a personality of his own instead of being the-guy-in-brand-name-clothes-No.3645.
Another probing glance out of those interesting narrow eyes ended his train of thought and had Rick sigh. Even the guy’s eyes and hair style weren’t mainstream like his. And he had a crossbow, dear God. In comparison, Rick had to be the most boring teenager in the entire state of Pennsylvania.
“Thanks”, was all Daryl answered to the compliment on his vest and then pointed ahead. “Not much further.”
“Honestly, it totally beats me how you find your way in these woods. Those trees all look the same to me.”
“’s funny”, Daryl answered with a fond glance at the trees around them, “’cause actually there ain’t two alike. They all look different, ya just gotta pay attention.”
He stopped and then pointed to a small group of trees to their left.
“See the white bark? Those are birch trees. They ‘s easy to distinguish from the others and there’s one among ‘em that musta been bent by somethin’ when it was young.”
He swallowed thickly for a moment before continuing.
“Grew towards the ground for a while as though it was … held down, hindered to grow towards the sun, bowin’ … “
He breathed in deep and Rick sensed a change of mood, but kept quiet.
“It made a U-turn after that”, he nodded towards the tree. “As though whatever held it down just disappeared so it was able ta grow towards the light again.”
Rick cast him a glance from the side and furrowed his brow. There was something in the other boy’s voice that had Rick wonder if he was still talking about that tree at all.
“Are ya even lookin’?” Daryl snapped at him, when he noticed Rick’s azure blue eyes on him instead of the tree he had pointed out.
“Yeah, sure. And you’re right – looks like an S lying on its side. Or a rollercoaster or … “
“Or a damn twisted birch tree. What’s the matter with ya?”
Rick shrugged with an apologetic smirk.
“My shrink had me do that free association thing for ages. You know, showed me a picture and I hadda say the first thing that came to mind. Guess that stuck. The shape of that tree just reminded me of …”
“Ya have a shrink?”
“Had. Waste of time and money.”
Daryl’s eyes grew large.
“The hell ever for?”
Rick looked at the tip of his sneakers and for a moment his lips became a thin line.
“Hadda talk to someone, I guess.”
“Ya got no mom ‘n’ dad ta talk to? Brothers ‘n’ sisters?”
Again Rick shrugged.
“Guess it’s them I hadda talk about.”
“Oh.”
There was surprise as well as sympathy in Daryl’s inflection. Apparently not all that glistened was gold.
Wordlessly he nodded in the direction they’d been headed in and took the lead again.
“You know, I think it’s cool you know how to track”, Rick said suddenly after they had walked for a few minutes in silence.
“Cool … sure.”
If Rick noticed the sarcasm, he didn’t let it show.
“What did you learn that for? You been a boy scout or something?”
Once again Daryl stopped dead in his tracks and cast him a look that made Rick feel like he had said something entirely stupid. And maybe he had.
“I hunt”, Daryl said in the end before proceeding. “Deer ain’t standin’ by the roadside wavin’ and waitin’ for ya ta shoot it, so ya gotta be able ta follow the tracks.”
Rick laughed out loud.
“Good point. – What’s your name?”
“Who wants to know?”
Rick cocked his head and picked up his pace to catch up with Daryl. Much that he liked the angel wing vest, he was growing tired of looking at it and following the other boy like a puppy. Why was he still so defensive and suspicious of him? Was it something he had done or said or was that guy just not trusting easily?
When he walked next to Daryl Rick looked at him from the side and said:
“I’m Rick. Rick Grimes.”
“Well, Rick Grimes, what were ya doin’ so far out in the woods if ya can’t track for shit?”
“I needed some peace, had to be some place I can breathe. Guess I just …”
“… hadda get away from it all?” Daryl ended his sentence and cast the other boy a surprised side glance.
Rick just nodded at a lack for words and for a long moment they looked each other in the eyes. On first sight they seemed to come from different worlds, but apparently they had something in common nevertheless.
“Daryl.”
Rick lifted an eyebrow.
“What?”
“’s ma name, stupid. – Daryl.”
Before Rick had a chance to reply, Daryl smacked his palm onto his arm and cursed under his breath.
“Damn ‘squitoes.” He looked Rick over. “How come ya ain’t gettin’ bit, while I get eaten alive here? Ya ‘squito-proof or somethin’?”
“Nobite”, Rick said with a frown, “it’s a simple insect repellent …”
He stopped when Daryl grunted and just walked on. A reaction that puzzled Rick, while he followed the other boy once again.
There didn’t seem to be too much he was able to say that was not wrong in some way. What the heck was it now? Daryl asked him a question and he answered it. It was the truth and no big deal, either. Was it against any rule or law around here to use Nobite?
For a second he took a closer look at his companion and it struck him all of a sudden.
Those worn and dirty clothes weren’t just Daryl’s “day out in the woods hunting” attire – his entire wardrobe probably looked that way. And while Rick looked like a model for expensive sports wear, a simple bottle of repellent seemed to be unaffordable for Daryl and his folks. Rick had never felt more overdressed – and like a complete jerk rubbing it in like that.
They stepped out of the woods and onto a wide meadow at that moment and the curly-haired boy couldn’t help a relieved sigh. Daryl pointed straight ahead to the development about half a mile across the meadow.
“There ya go – Hilltop.”
Rick cast him a surprised glance and nodded to the right, where about a mile away the outskirts of New Hope lay bathed in the late afternoon sun.
“What makes you think I live in Hilltop and not in town?”
“Had a hunch”, Daryl grumbled. “Take care, Rick Grimes. And next time ya go on a hike in ‘em woods, make sure ta bring some breadcrumbs.”
Before Rick could reply that breadcrumbs had been as helpful to Hansel and Gretel as his cell had been to him, Daryl had already headed back into the shadows of the trees and had disappeared from his sight.
- TBC -