inertia [ little bill & jules blitz ]

little bill cubs

He sits at the table with shaky hands, a needle rattling against the hardwood surface, and wonders why he’s so scared. His free hand adjusts his eyepatch, then readjusts it. Little Bill swaps the needle to his other hand, nervous tapping not missing a beat, and reaches up with the newly free hand to readjust it once more.

He’s never had to think about himself like this.

He’s spent his days tending to his flock, catering to their needs and rustling their wooly heads, cleaving meat from bone for Ma to sell at the district square, listening to the unending rocking of Big Bill in his creaky old chair before he shot a nail through his own temple; now he’s only able to care for himself, and the idea drives him mad. Without realizing, Little Bill presses the end of the needle into his thumb, slow and deep, finally letting his breath escape his clenched chest. He sighs.

Seconds later he’s grabbed another needle, and the cycle repeats: rattle, readjust, and relax for as long as he can push the needle in, only able to breathe during the sweet relief of pain.

When he reaches for a third, someone interrupts with a voice as small as her smile, like she’s entirely unsure of how to navigate the waters of isolation. All he’s known are these lonesome seas, but as the blood bubbles to the tip of his thumb he can’t help but feel like he’s lost his compass somewhere in the waves. It’s different here. “Do you mind?” He tries to respond, to gesture for her to sit, but instead his lips curl inward, sucked between his teeth, and he stares blankly at this scared girl before him. He blinks (well, winks), and retrieves one of the needles from his thumb under the table. A quick exhale is followed by a grin smaller than her own.

“Yes.” Little Bill tries to make eye contact, but ends up looking just past her, “I mean, no.” He’s blinking (winking) furiously now, and retrieves the other needle. “I’m Little Bill,” he says, flushed cheeks angling down toward the table. Under it, two needles rattle against the hardwood surface, and he wonders why he’s so scared.