Post by Holly Hock on Oct 13, 2020 18:57:32 GMT -5
The pink girl just went around the corner. Doesn’t belong here. Doesn’t belong in this district. Doesn’t belong anywhere near this building. Used to be a factory. Used to be my factory. Pistols were made here. Good pistols. Pistols that could win wars. Wars were not won. Cannot blame Vehicles. Vehicles were good. It was the officers. Didn’t wanted to use them.
Doesn’t matter now. War ended. No more reason for these kinds of pistols. Bad quality. That is what they said. Tried to stop it. Couldn’t. Workers tried to stop it. They couldn’t. They took what they could. Picked the factory clean. Tried to stop that. Sold my house to bribe officials. Didn’t work. Wife left. Said I was mad. Tried to use force. They broke open the roof. Nothing could be built after that. Workers left. Tried to sell the factory. Nobody wanted it. No roof. Part of District had become too dangerous. Still mine though. Still Aurum’s factory. Keep it mine. Try to keep others out. Is dangerous. Doesn’t want others to take it from mine. Not while I still live. Even if I have nothing else. This is mine. I got my blanket. I got my little shack in front of factory. I can keep an eye on things. People keep away. Know I am here. Nothing here to steal. No roof to keep them warm.
Then one morning.
Pink girl came. Looked like a child. Small, scrawny. Wore nothing more than rags. Her eyes stood happy.
Said she was looking. Looking for a place. Grow plants. I told her to scram. She said what used to be here. I said scram. She said she liked my beard. Scram. She said she liked my shack. I waved my stick at her. Said this was my place. Said that nobody would have it. She smiled. She said she would be back.
Two days passed.
Pink girl came back. Wore a suit. Had a briefcase Said she had an opportunity. I said scram. Opened briefcase. Apples fell out. Bananas too. Other fruit too. She said she could grow it. Showed it to me. Said she wanted to grow fruit. Feed people. Help people. Enough for the whole District. Fruit tasted good. Still didn’t agree. Said that weapons are made here. Not fruit. She took a banana. Held like a pistol. Made sounds. Said that banana was a gun. Banana is banana, I said. She said I lacked imagination. I said scram. Threw apple at her. She left. Said she would be back. I ate good that night. Fruit was good.
Five days passed.
Thought she made be gone. Happy. Alone again. Pink girl came again. Had a small cart with her. With a tarp. She showed what she brought. Was cake. Were words on cake. Holly Hock’s Harvest House. She had a drawing. Crayons. How she would do it. What would grow where. How she would water everything. Where people could come for food. Where I would be staying. She gave me an office. She had a separate drawing of it. I had a bed. Table. Chairs. A bathtub. She said that I wouldn’t need to go. Said that I could stay. Said I would get to eat what I wanted. Didn’t needed to work for it. Said she wanted to help people.
I said scram.
She tried to convince me.
Threw over her cart.
Cake on the ground.
I said scram.
She almost started to cry.
She left.
I cried that night.
First time in years.
Time passed. Don’t know how long. Didn’t forget the pink girl. Couldn’t. Wanted to. But couldn’t. I thought I was going mad. I thought I saw her again. Not the same girl.
Time passed. Things started to change. Some other factory nearby started to be used again. Heard the rumours. Even I. Thought maybe girl had found a place. To feed people. To build her dream. No food came. Trouble came. Not food.
Time passed. Woke up one morning. Heard something besides me. Pink girl. Eyes stood different. Stood sad. She said she killed someone. Not here. In Rochdale. Said that many people died. Said her boyfriend cheated. Left her. Said she had been mean. Mean to her friends. Said that she had done nothing right in her life.
Took her inside.
I had taken some apple seeds. Planted them. Thought if I lived long enough, something might grow. If not, maybe for someone else. Soil was good. Small plants. Not much. But something. Said that I did that. After she had come. Said I was sorry. She looked at me. She touched a plant. It grew. Became a small tree. Bore fruit. She gave me one of the apples. She said we did that. I said if she could make this place work, I would help her. She would need it. Not everyone here is kind. This place is not for her. She said she could handle herself. I didn’t see how. She smiled. She said that if I could believe in this place, soon others could. Gave her my name. Aurum, I said. She said her name was Holly Hock. She liked plants. And she wanted to help people. Actually, help people. Not harm them.
We went outside. Chilly day. No clouds. She now went to inspect the building again. Wore that ragged white dress. Had a clipboard. She is making more drawings with crayons. My knees hurt. I stay here. Hope she will make something of this place. Hope I am still around to see it.
Doesn’t matter now. War ended. No more reason for these kinds of pistols. Bad quality. That is what they said. Tried to stop it. Couldn’t. Workers tried to stop it. They couldn’t. They took what they could. Picked the factory clean. Tried to stop that. Sold my house to bribe officials. Didn’t work. Wife left. Said I was mad. Tried to use force. They broke open the roof. Nothing could be built after that. Workers left. Tried to sell the factory. Nobody wanted it. No roof. Part of District had become too dangerous. Still mine though. Still Aurum’s factory. Keep it mine. Try to keep others out. Is dangerous. Doesn’t want others to take it from mine. Not while I still live. Even if I have nothing else. This is mine. I got my blanket. I got my little shack in front of factory. I can keep an eye on things. People keep away. Know I am here. Nothing here to steal. No roof to keep them warm.
Then one morning.
Pink girl came. Looked like a child. Small, scrawny. Wore nothing more than rags. Her eyes stood happy.
Said she was looking. Looking for a place. Grow plants. I told her to scram. She said what used to be here. I said scram. She said she liked my beard. Scram. She said she liked my shack. I waved my stick at her. Said this was my place. Said that nobody would have it. She smiled. She said she would be back.
Two days passed.
Pink girl came back. Wore a suit. Had a briefcase Said she had an opportunity. I said scram. Opened briefcase. Apples fell out. Bananas too. Other fruit too. She said she could grow it. Showed it to me. Said she wanted to grow fruit. Feed people. Help people. Enough for the whole District. Fruit tasted good. Still didn’t agree. Said that weapons are made here. Not fruit. She took a banana. Held like a pistol. Made sounds. Said that banana was a gun. Banana is banana, I said. She said I lacked imagination. I said scram. Threw apple at her. She left. Said she would be back. I ate good that night. Fruit was good.
Five days passed.
Thought she made be gone. Happy. Alone again. Pink girl came again. Had a small cart with her. With a tarp. She showed what she brought. Was cake. Were words on cake. Holly Hock’s Harvest House. She had a drawing. Crayons. How she would do it. What would grow where. How she would water everything. Where people could come for food. Where I would be staying. She gave me an office. She had a separate drawing of it. I had a bed. Table. Chairs. A bathtub. She said that I wouldn’t need to go. Said that I could stay. Said I would get to eat what I wanted. Didn’t needed to work for it. Said she wanted to help people.
I said scram.
She tried to convince me.
Threw over her cart.
Cake on the ground.
I said scram.
She almost started to cry.
She left.
I cried that night.
First time in years.
Time passed. Don’t know how long. Didn’t forget the pink girl. Couldn’t. Wanted to. But couldn’t. I thought I was going mad. I thought I saw her again. Not the same girl.
Time passed. Things started to change. Some other factory nearby started to be used again. Heard the rumours. Even I. Thought maybe girl had found a place. To feed people. To build her dream. No food came. Trouble came. Not food.
Time passed. Woke up one morning. Heard something besides me. Pink girl. Eyes stood different. Stood sad. She said she killed someone. Not here. In Rochdale. Said that many people died. Said her boyfriend cheated. Left her. Said she had been mean. Mean to her friends. Said that she had done nothing right in her life.
Took her inside.
I had taken some apple seeds. Planted them. Thought if I lived long enough, something might grow. If not, maybe for someone else. Soil was good. Small plants. Not much. But something. Said that I did that. After she had come. Said I was sorry. She looked at me. She touched a plant. It grew. Became a small tree. Bore fruit. She gave me one of the apples. She said we did that. I said if she could make this place work, I would help her. She would need it. Not everyone here is kind. This place is not for her. She said she could handle herself. I didn’t see how. She smiled. She said that if I could believe in this place, soon others could. Gave her my name. Aurum, I said. She said her name was Holly Hock. She liked plants. And she wanted to help people. Actually, help people. Not harm them.
We went outside. Chilly day. No clouds. She now went to inspect the building again. Wore that ragged white dress. Had a clipboard. She is making more drawings with crayons. My knees hurt. I stay here. Hope she will make something of this place. Hope I am still around to see it.
928 words