Things about you, the world and your situation

When I catch up with Geiger, I’m at a loss for words. I have a lot of questions, but no idea where to start. What else can he tell me about the world and what just happened? More importantly, what do I look like? For some reason I feel awkward just steering the conversation back to what it was. Even when I catch up, Geiger seems to be preoccupied with something. He goes about his business, occasionally stopping to uproot or clip some plants, storing them in his duffel. Should I apologize for not asking his name earlier? I might break this ice with my own name, but I honestly don’t remember it. I ruminate in the awkward silence. Said awkwardness makes me less likely to break the silence, and so on.

Geiger speaks up first. “That book is Fiefel’s, isn’t it?” He does not turn from his walking to ask me.

“I suppose so.” I reply. He certainly knows more about the situation than I. “He’s the elf guy who lives at the end of that path we just passed. Right?”

“That he is.” Geiger confirms. “You made a bit of a ruckus, stealing that book from him.”

His tone is jovial, but his observations make me nervous. This is going somewhere, and if it heads towards a lecture then I don’t want to hear it. Still, he hasn’t called me out on it yet. When he does though, that’s my signal to GTFO.

“Maybe I did. What would it mean to you?”

Geiger straightens up at that comment, stopping in his tracks. Turning to me he speaks with a bitter tone, like he’s complaining to an old bar-mate about his work-week. “Look, buddy. I get it if you don’t want to own up to theft. I may not have done that myself, it’s a good way to get in trouble. Fiefel is an air headed prick, though, with a spade up his ass. He rubs me the wrong way, and I have personal beef with some of his friends.

“I’m not going to beat you up over what you did. I’m not even going to try, because I think it was a good thing to do. Well, in spirit at least. Sometimes people need help grounding themselves with a good slap to the face.”

He speaks exhaustedly, and he might be hoarse if he did not put so much effort into clarity. After his little aside he turns and continues walking. “You’ll probably want to return the book when you’re done with it,” he continues. “Or at least do something so that it gets back around to him. Ditch it.” He interrupts his train of thought with a punctuating sigh. “ Of course, I say as much assuming you don’t want to be a master thief or something. You still haven’t told me what you want to do. I don’t need specifics, I just need something. Something about yourself, to let me know you have some good in you”

I, being at a loss for words, remain silent. Thankfully, this encourages Geiger to continue, rather than confront me, though his voice and gait become less and less jovial. “You want to know what you look like? You look like a monster. There, I said it. I hate the word, and I said it. Your body is black and oily and pockmarked with silver. You look like immaculate moldy tar, and it makes me uncomfortable.” Taking a deep breath, he gathers his thoughts and concludes, “The only reason I trust you is, from what little we’ve talked, you seem like the kind of person I want to help. That’s not a lot to go off, but scarier things than you have tried to kill me.” Then, saying he needs to sit down, he finds a flatter spot of ground and sits.

Thinking about what Geiger says, I guess I’m not giving as much as I should in this relationship. I don’t have any fantastic answers to his questions, but I’ve also been cagey. I should be nice to this guy I’m following. If I want him to help me, I should help him understand my situation.

“All right Geiger, I’ll be totally honest.” I begin, and I feel more and more relieved as I continue. “I’m a newborn babe. I boiled up out of a hole in the ground a few days ago. I have no name. I know next to nothing about myself, and I only know a little more than what you told me just now. I stole this book because I want to learn some magic. That’s it! I followed you because it’s boring being by myself all the time. I don’t have any loft goals or grand plans. I just feel hungry and thirsty all the time, and I eat dirt. If you have a better living situation I’m all ears, because I just want to stop living in the woods.”

Geiger listens to my gut-spilling patiently. He hardly bats an eye. When I finish, he shakes his head and sighs. “Well, I’m glad you’re honest, at least. That’s hard for a lot of people in this day and age.” After that, we both move on in silence. Both of us take time to process each other’s statements and responses. It’s uneasy, but I guess we’re both okay trying new things, because Geiger accepts when I eventually say, “How about this? Let’s make a deal.”