(Open) The Silence Was Deafening

The way Broca was putting his arm around my shoulders made me feel like he was my friend. In an awkward way it also reminded me of my other friend, who had, not too long ago come out of the closet by kissing me. I’m not judging him but it did make me feel a little uncomfortable. Hopefully Broca wasn’t looking for a boyfriend because that sure as heck wasn’t how I rolled nor could I even think about ever having another relationship.

The change of scenery when we got to the outer parts of town was surely nice. By now I had completely forgotten about my dads herbs. Something else, much better and more important had caught my attention. Broca’s suggestion to work for him.

“Seriously?” I smile a little. “I’ve been looking for a job for a few hours a day but couldn’t really find anything suitable yet. I have to tell you that I’ll go back to the Andersons when the person they hired to substitute me is leaving. “
For a moment I’m searching his face for a reaction. I’ve learned that people who can’t speak use much more expressive gestures and mimic than other people. His face doesn’t reveal much though.
“I’d be able to help you for a few hours a day but can’t do much heavy lifting of hard riding yet.” To proof my point I lift my shirt to show him the unsightly scar where the doctor had cut out the bullet at the day of the reaping.
“I do know my way around a ranch though. I can help you feed, clean, fix fences, do some easy riding…still interested?”

The last houses of our small town are now behind us and we step onto the gravel road that leads us north towards Cookstown. While I let my eyes wander across rye and wheat fields softly swaying in the warm breeze I wonder which ranch could be his. I’ve seen quite a few around town in search of good stallions for our mares.
“What’s your ranch called?”

I lift my eyes when a small house comes into view on the horizon. It reminds me a lot of the Andersons home just a tad smaller. The acres around it are of decent size and the cattle on our left looks healthy and well nourished.
"Nice place." I admit with a little hint of admiration. It took some skill for one guy to maintain a ranch alone.
"You're really working this ranch by yourself?"

I let my eyes wander over the fences, that are in good shape, the small creek that provides a good source of water and the group of trees near the house for shade. There's also a barn.
"How many horses and cattle do you own?" I enquire before I turn and nod.
"If you're willing to give a guy like me a chance I'd sure try as long as you're aware that I'm not able to give 100% right now. I'll try my best though." Deep down I know I might be a dissapointment for now but better than no help at all.

"My Dad can be left to help do the fences and other such maintenance as long as he is allowed to sit down. His leg is basically shot to pieces."

Somehow that sounds an aweful lot like me but I’m still young and able to recover.
Judging by the smile on his face Broca enjoys the work on the ranch and feels at home. It’s a definite plus that it’s his dads place. “Good thing you’ll own the ranch one day. Much better than slaving for a stranger. The people I work for don’t have children and the land used to be my grandfathers before he had to sell it so I might get some of it for myself.” I share a bit of my own private information with him.
The guy seems nice enough. Maybe we could even become friends.

Of course he has to mention the damn games again so I fall silent.
But then have to speak up. “I won’t stick around a whole year, Broca. I only need work for maybe two months.”

As we walk up to the main house I see that it’s faily old and small with its paint flaking off. I guess one guy can’t do it all.

”If you like we have a spare room, so that you could stay over. Don’t worry I won’t try and molest you in the night, I’m not Sparrow after all” he offers.

Not having to walk this far every day would be a plus but I’m not sure so I simply shrug, especially because of his comment about ‘Sparrow’. I’m not so sure what he means so I raise my brows and ask. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

I shake my head and wave off his concern. "It's okay as long as you don't kiss me!" It was a pretty sad attempt of a joke on my side. Lately I've simply not been in the mood for jokes.

He walks on up to the house so I follow him. Maybe we could have a drink. This heat is terribly exhausting and dehydration can be dangerous. Every kid who works on the fields knows to drink enough water.

I step into the door and let my gaze wander around. It's a simple but quaint, tidy place. It feels weird to enter into a strange family's home though.
"You sure this is okay?" I search the hallway and nearby rooms for signs of his parents.

"Don't worry about the slate. As I said, my friend scribbles stuff down all the time so I've become pretty good at interpreting his expression and snarls....Do you suppose your ability to speak will eve come back? Two or three months ago I saw a natural healer in Cookstown. Until then I had no feeling in my leg whatsoever but she does amazing things with her hands. I've regained a good part of my feeling because of her. Who knows maybe she could help you."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Just thought you might want to know about this woman." I lower my voice when I apologize because I'm slightly embarrassed that I suggested there might be something wrong with him. He's got a totally different approach than me to my disabilty..
"I kinda like the way you think. I never though about my limp making me unique in any way. All I can see is how it holds me back from breaking horses and doing my job."
Maybe Noreen thought the same way. She never seemed to mind me not being able to everything like every other guy.

Thankful for the offer I walk into the kitchen and turn on the tab. They must have their own well as the water is suprisingly cool. I tastes very refreshing when I hang my head under the tab and take a few long gulps right there and then. Wiping my mouth I nod. "Nice."

But when I turn around he's gone. For a moment I look around, then follow him upstairs where I catch him lost in the moment looking at a picture of a young girl. I follow his gaze and look at her for a moment. Somehow I recognise her, not from school, or work...then it dawns on me....way back when I was still a kid myself, she was one of our tributes. Immediately my heart sinks. "Oh no...your sister?"

I remember those games because my parents kept holding their hands in front of my eyes. Should I be thankful for Noreens fairly "humane" death? I guess so. I still hate all those tributes who united against her with everything I have and if I ever get my hands on one of those Emberstatts I will make sure they suffer.

With these grim thoughts in mind I climb down the narrow stairs which proofs slightly difficult with one leg that doesn't always cooperate. I do manage though.

After grabbing another drink of water I ask broca. "Do you want to show me the live stock and what you would want me to do?" The next question is a little embarassing but needs to be asked before I offer my services to the young guy. "How are you going to pay me and how much?"

The answer to this crucial question will determine whether I will take the job or not.