Chapter 5: Prologue (5)

"But explain to me how you got the money to move to Vermon again, I didn't quite understand it the first time," my father asks, breaking the silence that had descended upon us while we ate.

"Odd jobs," I mumble, my mouth still filled with food.

"Odd jobs you say... because the last time I checked, odd jobs don't get you enough to traverse between cities. Or give you enough to even think about living in the capital, underground or up top," he replies, almost passive-aggressively.

I don't get what he's up to. I would've thought he'd be pleased to leave this place.

"Why does it matter anyway? I'm a grown man, where I get my money is of no importance. I could be taking bounties for all you care... I mean you were working in illegal mines at my age," I reply as calmly as possible.

"That's not- you're right. You're a grown man, I guess I don't have a say in what you can or cannot do anymore," he whispers, before standing up to wash his plate.

"I just don't understand why you're taking me with you."

"What are you trying to say? You don't want to come along?" My heart won't stop thumping. I'm a grown man for fucks sake, why am I so scared that my father won't come along with me? I don't need him to hold my hand.

"It's just that, you and canary didn't have kids. So if you're moving to the capital, you should be getting ready to get some girl to have kids with. Having an old man around might decrease your cha-"

"I'm not leaving you behind dad," I blurt out. Why would I give my father up for some girl who'll just leave me the second she gets a Bullion? How does that make any sense to him?

"That isn't your choice. Besides, have you wondered that maybe I don't feel safe around you anymore?" he asks, and for a moment there's absolute silence.

"Where is this coming from?" I ask him. I can feel my anger seething. I feel like shooting something up... anything.

"Just because I never spoke about the day you almost shot Canary don't mean I forgot it," he says after a moment of silence.

"Almost shot? You- you know well I wouldn't have done it," I stutter. I- I can't believe he would think that. He better than anyone else should know the kind of person I am.

"I don't! I don't know you! I haven't for several years now. I don't even know if you're the same boy I used to carry on my back. There's a hunger in your eyes... and it's ugly, my boy never was ugly. For fucks sake, you're selling illegal blasters. They call you the fucking Merchant of Death... just how many people have you already killed?" my father blurts out.

Whatever this is, it's something he's been holding in for a while.

"I- I haven't killed anyone," I stutter. I can't deny anything else... perhaps I have changed.

"But the people you sell to have," he whispers, his voice softer now. He sounds more tired than angry.

"I'm... I'm going out," I say, my eyes fixed on my half-full plate. "But by the time I come back, you better be packed... or I'm dragging you with me," I add, before making my way to the door.

"Reeve." My father calls out just as I'm about to leave. "Where did I go wrong?" he asks.

And for a moment I think that perhaps I shouldn't reply. It hurts to hear him say that, but for a moment I think that perhaps I should give him a break.

"The day you sold mom off for some loose change," I reply. I let my anger win... I hurt my father, just like he's hurt me.

**

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"Next!"

The post office is as crowded as it usually is. And its rotting woody interior as nauseating as I remember it. You'd think that for the amount we pay to send letters, they'd put a bit of it into renovating the place.

Only one of the clerks is working, and she looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"Hey mister, nice hat," a kid says, pulling the side of my cloak as she speaks. She's got snort dripping out her nose, and her hair's a disheveled mess.

"Missy, get back here," a man behind me scolds. "Sorry bout that partner," he says to me with an awkward smile. He has another baby on his back... he's probably here to send a letter to their mother.

"Next!"

It's my turn.

"Name, and member number," the woman says in a bored tone.

"Reeve, 27415," I reply, and the woman goes to the back to look through a drawer. After a few minutes, she comes back with a single folded paper, and hands it to me before calling on the next person in line.

Hmm... a single paper? Seems kind of short. I have a bad feeling about this.

"Dear Reeve.

You asked how life in the sky city has been, it's been fine. A bit tiring, but I've been doing okay. You said that you were doing fine for yourself as well, and I'm happy to hear that.

Reeve... I've been trying to find the right way to tell you this, and I'm still trying, but I can't live with this burden anymore. My husband and I are about to have a baby. I know we're only friends now, but it just seems right I told you... you deserve that much.

Anyway, my husband found out that me and you been sending each other letters. And we had an argument... love birds he called us. I thought it was cute.

But he has a point. We can't keep sending each other letters... we can't even keep being friends. There's almost no chance we'll ever meet again, even if I wanted to they wouldn't allow me back to the undercity.

So Reeve... this is the last time I'll ever be sending you a letter. I hope that you live the rest of your days with a smile on your face, you always were a serious kid, I hope you loosen up. I wish the best for you, and I hope you find happiness.

Oh, and say hi to your father for me, tell him I miss him.

Thank you for all the years... for all the love.

Yours... now and forever.

Canary."

"W-What?" My vision's blurry, and my face feels hot. I read the letter several more times, but the words don't make any more sense than the first time.

And for fucks sake, why does it feel like the sky is falling?

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