Date: Mon, 7 Jan 2019 18:02:46 -0500
From: Purple Jubliee <purplejubilee17@gmail.com>
Subject: After Earth Went Dark; Part II: Chapter 2

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After Earth Went Dark; Part II:
Chapter 2

       Elliot's sleep was tortured by dreams of Tyr. In his mind, he
constantly pictured the ways in which his friend may have died. In each
scenario, Elliot was a helpless bystander, watching but unable to
interfere.
	He awoke as the wagon jolted uncomfortably over a particularly
large rut. It had begun to drizzle; a light late-summer rain that was just
dark enough to match Elliot's overcast mood. Sitting up, he tried to get
his bearings once again. The wagon rolled on slowly, at a brisk walking
pace. The members of the traveling theater were clustered around it. Some
of them chatted quietly while others just stared ahead in silence. They
certainly seemed far less cheerful than they had last night.
	Deciding to get out and walk of his own volition and hopefully not
be seen as lazy, Elliot hopped off the back of the wagon and easily matched
its slow pace. Looking around, Elliot couldn't see Ida anywhere. He could
hear Marcel humming to himself from the front of the wagon though.
	"You're lucky." A voice came from behind him. Elliot turned to see
a boy a few years older than him approach. He had been one of the dancers
from the night before. "They don't usually let people rest for that long if
they can avoid it. Ida must like you. Or maybe Marcel does." He made the
last statement with a hint of knowing humor that Elliot did not follow.
	"They make you walk all day?" Elliot asked, worried. Neither Ida or
Marcel had seemed like cruel people that would work someone down like that.
	The boy shrugged. He had a youthful face with a slight dimple to
one side of his mouth, giving him the impression of a perpetual cheeky
half-grin. "Sort of. It's not that bad once you get used to it. We break
for lunch and call it a night early so people can practice their acts. If
anyone really can't keep up, they can ride in the back of the wagon for a
bit. Not usually more than twenty minutes or so though."
	"Oh." That didn't sound as unreasonable as the boy had originally
implied. It was a similar pace to his traveling with Tyr and his
family. "How long was I sleeping?"
	Again, the boy shrugged his slim shoulders. "A few hours." He
flipped a few strands of reddish-brown hair off his forehead. "I'm Jay." He
held out a hand.
	Elliot shook the older boy's hand and introduced himself. "How long
have you been with the group?"
	"Not long." Jay replied. "I was the newest until you got
here. Beats being on your own."
	"I saw you with the dancers." Elliot told him. "You were pretty
good."
	Jay's face reddened slightly. "It's not what I wanna do. But
everyone has to learn an act. You will too if you stick around."
	This was the first Elliot was hearing of it. "Ida said I just had
to take care of the horses."
	Jay nodded. "Yeah, that'll be your job for now. But the job's
different than the act, you know?"
	Despite the fact that he did not know, Elliot wanted this older boy
to like him, so he nodded. "Where's Ida?" He eventually asked.
	"Probably off hunting with Carlos." Jay told him. "That's their
job. They catch up with us when we stop."
	"What's his job?" Elliot nodded toward Marcel, who drove the wagon
while singing quietly to himself.
	Jay smiled. "He's in charge. It might seem like he's got the easy
job driving the horses, but he probably does more work than anyone,
especially around show time." There was a note of admiration in Jay's
voice.
	"He seems kinda... weird..." Elliot admitted.
	Jay's tone turned slightly defensive. "He's saved almost all of
these people from probably dying in the streets or the woods somewhere. All
he wants is to make people happy again, like they used to be."
	"Alright, I'm sorry." Elliot held up his hands in surrender. "He's
just... different I guess..."
	Jay sniffed a laugh. "Well, that's true."
	Elliot took the time to look around at the group surrounding
him. It was mostly male, with eight boys and young men whose ages ranged
from teens to late twenties approximately. There were four girls and women
all in a similar age range. Marcel, Ida, and whoever the Carlos person was
that Jay had mentioned rounded out his count at fifteen in total, with
himself making sixteen.
	"Where did they all come from?" He asked Jay.
	"All over, I guess." The older boy answered. "I heard that Marcel
is from somewhere foreign and got stuck here after the flare. He met up
with Carlos and Jim way down to the south. They're the two guitar
players. Then it just kinda grew from there, the same way you joined in."
	"What about Ida?" Elliot asked, "Where's she from?"
	Jay thought for a moment. "I think she's actually pretty new. Or
newer. She's been with the group for maybe a year. She just seems like
she's been here since the beginning `cause she's so talented and gets along
so well with Marcel."
	"Isn't it dangerous, traveling all over like that?" Elliot
asked. None of the troupe members appeared to be armed.
	"A bit." Jay agreed. "But we don't have much, so bandits don't
usually bother us. If they do though, I've heard that Ida and Marcel are
actually pretty good fighters, and I think Jim has a gun hidden
somewhere. It's never happened since I've been here though."
	"Do you know where we're going now?"
	Jay nodded. "There's a little town not too far off where we're
gonna do a show. We'll be there early tomorrow. That means we'll get to
spend the whole day in town."
	Talking to Jay helped keep Elliot's mind busy. He didn't want to
think too much because his thoughts inevitably took him back to the
graveside. The two chatted off and on as they walked, and Jay introduced
him to a few other members. That night around a large crackling campfire,
Marcel officially introduced him to everyone and they all gave their
names. Elliot knew it would be a while before he would be able to remember
all of them.
	Ida returned not long after they had set up camp. She had an
impressive compound bow across her back. She and Carlos had taken down a
deer that they quickly cleaned and cooked up for the troupe. It was clear
that everyone had a job and they all knew their roles. Some gathered
firewood, others cooked or fetched water.
	As Elliot was about to help himself to one of the slabs of venison
that were cooking by the fire, Ida caught him gently by the arm.
	"The horses haven't been tended yet." She told him, quietly enough
so that others couldn't overhear. "You always take care of your duties
before you eat."
	Elliot frowned. He was very hungry, but he knew he had to follow
the rules. "Ok. What do I have to do?"
	The better part of the next two hours were spent learning to care
for the horses. The labor was far more intense and time consuming than
Elliot had anticipated. He was expected to feed and water them, clean their
hooves, and brush out their coats from head to toe. By the time he was
finished he was covered in sweat and grime and he smelled thoroughly like
horse.
	Cleaning the hooves had been the most trying part. Despite the
strength he had gained working at Uncle Mark's Elliot was still small, and
the animals were very big and could sometimes be stubborn. Convincing them
to let him clean dirt and debris out of their heavy hooves took a
combination of coaxing and shoving.
	Ida had helped him with the first horse, Maple, but had left him on
his own to deal with the second horse, Timber. Timber was a little smaller
than Maple but was not as agreeable. He had jerked his hooves violently
several times while Elliot tried to clean them, startling him and nearly
sending him sprawling.
	Finally, when it was done, he flopped down on the ground with a
groan. Maple nudged him gently and he patted the tall bay before gathering
all his strength to haul himself over to the fire.
	Ida chuckled when she saw him. "It is not an easy life." She
reminded.
	Elliot said nothing but simply helped himself to one of the few
remaining pieces of venison. The rest of the troupe had long since finished
and broken off into groups to practice their various arts. The three
musicians rehearsed quietly some yards away.
	The meat was unseasoned and practical, but Elliot was so hungry
that he barely noticed. He devoured the meal quickly.
	"Hello, little one!" Marcel's eccentric voice came from behind him
as the tall young man appeared suddenly. He took a seat by the fire between
Ida and Elliot. "How was the first day?"
	Elliot shrugged, wishing he had more to eat. "It was okay."
	"Come now my friend," Marcel chided amiably. "It is important to
smile through the hard times. It makes the work seem not so bad, and the
play seem even better!"
	With some effort, Elliot forced a tired twist of his mouth that
resembled a humorless smile.
	Marcel sighed and clicked his tongue. "We will work on it. In the
meantime, tell me, what is your talent?"
	"My talent?" Elliot asked.
	"We're all performers here to some degree." Ida told him. "We all
participate in the act. If you can sing, dance, juggle, play an instrument,
really anything, we can work with it. If not, we'll teach you."
	Elliot thought for a moment. He had never been much a singer
especially not in front of other people. He had never even picked up an
instrument, let alone learned to play one. He did not think he had the
grace to be a good dancer. Idly he thought about the idea of juggling. He
had practiced tossing his knife from hand to hand and performing some of
the flourishes that he had seen Tyr do before, but that was far from
juggling. A thought occurred to him.
	"Well... I guess I'm sorta good with my knife." He said lamely.
	Marcel frowned, but Ida spoke first. "Doing what with it?"
	Shrugging, Elliot pulled out the knife Tyr had given him. He slowly
twirled it through his fingers, changing from forward to reversed grip and
back again. Picking up speed, he passed it to his other hand before
twisting his wrist and rolling the knife along the back of his hand and
catching it once again. As Elliot demonstrated, Marcel's frown gradually
disappeared, and he began nodding slowly. To finish, Elliot tossed the
blade into the air, twirling it before snatching it by the handle and
sliding it back into its little sheath.
	Marcel gave him a quiet round of applause with his fingertips and
grinned supportively. "Bravo! It may not be an act yet, but it is an
excellent start! It shows that you have a dedication to practice. Very
good, very good!"
	Elliot smiled slightly at the praise, in spite of his exhaustion.
	"Can you hit a target with it?" Ida asked curiously.
	Again, Elliot shrugged. "Kind of."
	Ida turned and pointed to a tree trunk about twenty feet away. It
was a young tree and just over a foot in diameter. "That tree." She
instructed.
       The other members of the group were practicing on the opposite side
of the camp, so Elliot did not have to worry about hitting anyone. He stood
up and drew out his knife once more. This was a comparatively easy throw to
what he and Tyr had practiced, and he had only honed his skill further
during his time at Uncle Mark's. He barely had to take any time at all to
aim and release. The knife zipped through the air and buried itself about
an inch in the hard wood.
       Marcel gasped in surprise. Ida gave him a curious look.
	"Where did you learn that?" Ida asked, rising gracefully from the
ground and moving to examine the knife in the tree.
	"My... friend taught me." Elliot's voice cracked slightly.
	Ida pulled the knife from the trunk and peered at it closely, then
looked up at Elliot again. "Does your friend have a name?"
	"Marcel! Ida!" The three turned to the sound of a new voice. One of
the young men from the group jogged into the campsite. "I've got news from
the town ahead you're both going to want to hear."
	"Calm down Louis." Marcel answered casually, waving a hand to a
spot by the fire. "Sit and relax. Then tell us what it is that's so
important."
	The young man, Louis, did as he was told. He was somewhat out of
breath, presumably from running ahead into town. Jay had told Elliot on
their walk that they usually sent out runners to make sure that the town
will welcome them and to advertise their arrival if possible.
	Once he had a chance to catch his breath, Marcel spoke again. "Now
then. Why don't you tell us what has you so worked up, hmm?"
	Louis eyed Elliot suspiciously then looked back to Marcel.
	"That is Elliot. He is one of us now." Marcel said
firmly. "Anything that concerns us concerns him as well."
	Elliot inclined his head in greeting, but Louis ignored him and
continued on. "The town ahead is called Madison. It's very small, and
rough. They got hit hard by raiders after the flare so it's mostly a
drifter town now."
	Marcel nodded. "A sad story. But we have performed before in towns
like that. Was there something more?"
	"We asked if it would be safe to visit and the bartender at the
main local establishment said they had some recent murders. Not unusual by
itself but he said there had been a dangerous man roaming the town
recently."
	"Hmm..." Marcel scratched his chin. "We will take a vote then. I
say that our mission to bring cheer to the world must not be stopped by a
single dangerous individual. However, we shall see if the others agree."
	"There's more." Louis interjected, just as Elliot sensed Marcel was
about to launch into another of his monologues. "The bartender told me that
the man responsible for these killings was looking for someone. A woman
that he described, just like Ida."