Breeze Corinth (Book 1): Sky Shatter (5 page)

I’ll just touch down in the field, then sneak into that barn for a few hours of rest,
he thought to himself,
then come morning, head into town.

He felt his heart race in nervous anticipation of his landing. He willed himself down until he touched the ground, then stumbled and fell face first into the dirt.

He rolled over and looked up at the sky as the stars began their retreat from the sun’s rays.
Time to hide,
he thought.

He trudged across the field and slipped between the partially opened doors of the barn where the smell of manure hit him hard. He covered his nose with his jacket in a futile attempt to block it. He couldn’t tell what was worse, the odor from the hairy creature or the smell of the barn.

He pulled his sleeve back to expose the nav-compass. Its faint glow weakly illuminated the interior of the barn when he spotted a ladder leaning against a railing. He walked over to it and looked up, and was relieved to see it led to a loft full of hay. He climbed up the creaky ladder and gratefully laid down in a fetal position as he buried himself with hay to acquire some warmth. He took one last look around, and then closed his eyes. He fell asleep immediately.

“Get up son.”

Breeze groaned.

“Son, you have to get up.”

“I will Dad,” Breeze grumbled, and rolled over.

“Barn is no place to be sleeping off whatever the previous night’s adventure brought you. Now get up.”

Breeze mumbled. “How do you know I flew last night?”

“You’re not making any sense now. I suggest you get up.”

Breeze sat up and rubbed his eyes as hay fell off him, then recoiled at the sight of an old man staring at him. He had piercing blue eyes and splotchy skin from long days in the field under the sun. His hair was gray with streaks of white slashing through it. His large hands gripped the top of the wooden ladder and never blinked as he stared at Breeze.

Breeze slid back against a hay bale. He was trapped. He figured he would have awakened by now and been on his way before anyone from the farmhouse woke up.

The old man nodded at him. “You can come to the house if you like. Wife’s got the stove going, be more than happy to fix you something to eat. You must be hungry, right? You look like a young man who’s traveled quite a ways, and has much more to do.”

Breeze blinked at him.

The old man snorted. “I’ll take that as a yes. Make sure your boots are clean. The wife hates it when I track mud into the house. Especially the kind that comes from animals, if you know what I mean.” The old man chuckled as he descended the ladder. Each step he took made the ladder creak loudly.

Breeze leaned over and peered down. He was stunned to see the old man was already out of the barn and into the sunlight.

He crawled over to the ladder and gingerly placed a foot onto the top rung. It creaked and flexed beneath him, and he began to wonder how he even climbed up without breaking it.

“Think light on your feet, son. This way the ground will never break beneath you. How do you think a big man like me does it?” The old man called out from the doorway. He appeared to Breeze like a giant as the sunlight lit him from behind, almost like some otherworldly being sent from the heavens.

“Come now, don’t dawdle. Never waste the light. Always make good use of it ‘cause the darkness is always waiting to overcome it.” The old man turned and walked away as the sunlight rushed in to fill the space where he had stood.

Breeze carefully made his way down the ladder. He reached the bottom and saw no one else was in the barn, not even a single animal.

He stepped out into the brilliant sunshine where off in the distance he could see the farmhouse with the old man standing in front of it. Breeze wondered how he got there so quickly.

He took a step forward, and then stopped when he saw the foot prints in the ground. Expecting to see deep marks from where the old man stepped, he was stunned to find shallow footprints instead. He looked up and saw the old man walking up the steps and into the house. The screen door banged to a close behind him, but it took a moment for the sound to reach his ears.

Breeze trudged his way through the field, the soft earth collapsing with every step he took. He realized now just how far away the farmhouse was. He grumbled and continued on.

He eventually arrived at the front steps of the house and sat down, when he was startled to hear the voice of a woman bellowing from behind the screen door.

“If you plan on entering our humble abode, you best take off those filthy boots!” An image of a woman wiping her hands on an apron came into focus from behind the screen.

Breeze was transfixed by the sight of her. His mother died when he was young. He wasn’t accustomed to the sight or sound of a woman in his home. Father wouldn’t even hire one of the local women to help around the house. Instead, he insisted that he and Breeze do all of the household chores. “Builds character and strength,” he would say. Breeze wondered what sort of strength he was building while washing dishes after dinner, night after night.

The screen door opened with a loud squeal, and then banged to a close against the door frame as a diminutive woman stepped onto the porch. If the old man was as tall as a giant, his wife was as tiny as a mouse. She was short and wiry with her hair pulled back into a pony tail.

She placed her hands on her hips and spoke to him. “Either my useless lump of a husband found himself a deaf mute, or you’re just plain slower than watching paint dry.” She turned to the screen door and shouted. “Gil, this boy might need some help with his boots. I don’t think he speaks or understands.”

A loud chuckle emanated from inside the house. “Be nice Maribelle, he has traveled far and is just bone tired.”

“Bone tired, indeed! Sleeping in dirty old barns would make anyone that way,” she said, shaking her head disapprovingly. She turned back to the screen door again and shouted. “And when are you going to clean out that barn? I can smell horse dung on this young man! I could smell him even before I saw him!”

“Now, let’s not be dramatic woman. You watched him from the window as he walked across the field and made rude comments about him the whole time. And I’ll clean out the barn once I’ve had some breakfast.”

She turned to Breeze. “Sure he will. That was several thousand breakfasts ago. That’s all I’m good for around here. Fixing that mountain of a man something to eat.” She adjusted her apron and tilted her head. “Well, what are you waiting for? Those boots won’t come off by themselves, and I don’t aim to help you with them, on account I don’t want to get dirt on my hands.” She opened the screen door. “You best hurry before the old goat eats your share.” She stepped back inside as the screen door slammed shut to punctuate her point.

Breeze sat with his mouth open. He had never met anyone like her.

He went up the steps, unlaced his boots and placed them next to the door. He grabbed the rickety handle of the screen door and opened it with an obnoxious creak. He stepped inside and took in his surroundings.

The floor was wooden and buckled with every step he took. The walls were faded with picture frames hanging from them.

His hunger began to swell from the smell of food wafting out of the kitchen. He headed toward the sound of pots and pans banging together and into the warmth of a small kitchen with a little table pressed against a wall where Gil was already seated. Breeze couldn’t help but wonder how the chair even supported the weight of such a big man.

Gil looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. “Remember son, be light on your feet. Then nothing gives way beneath you.”

“The boy must have a name Gil! I swear you have the manners of an old goat that hasn’t been fed in a week. You can’t even ask him for his name because you’re always thinking with your stomach.” She turned to Breeze. “That’s how we met. He was eating his usual daily slop down at the local eatery when I walked past him. I had to pretend to stumble and spill my glass of water on him just to get him to look up and notice me. I figured a man like that would be better off with a wife fixing him something to eat as opposed to eating that gruel that’s served in town.”

Gil chuckled. “She tells that story all the time. It keeps getting further from the truth every day.”

Breeze sat down in a chair and pulled up to the table. “Breeze,” he said quietly.

Maribelle stared at him and then looked out the window. “No, don’t think so. Seems awful calm out there. Not much in the way of wind.”

His face reddened. “No ma’am. That’s my name. Everyone calls me that.”

“Oh my heavens, child! That’s no name. Tell me the name your parents gave you the day you arrived into this world.”

“Paul. Paul Corinth.”

Maribelle stopped wiping her hands with her apron as she froze in place.

Gil looked up from his book. “Corinth? Interesting. Haven’t heard that name in quite a while. Where did you say you hail from?”

“I didn’t sir. I come from the Desert Country. From a town called Conception.”

The couple quickly glanced at one another.

Maribelle cleared her throat and turned to the stove. “Let me fix you a plate, you must be starving.” She grabbed a plate from the cupboard and bustled about the kitchen.

Gil put down his book, then closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “Haven’t heard or thought about that town in quite some time. I know it’s an aviation town. They build all sorts of flying machines and other contraptions out there. Talented folk.”

Breeze nodded as he eyed Maribelle pouring food onto a plate. His stomach began to growl.

Gil swiveled to face his wife. “Darlin’, what’s the name of that fella we used to know out there in Conception?”

She put the spoon down on the counter with a definitive clink as she looked out the window. “I believe Jacob was his name. Jacob Corinth.”

Breeze’s eyes lit up. “That’s my father!”

Maribelle visibly stiffened.

Gil pushed his book away and placed both of his hands upon the table. “Why, isn’t that something? We’ve known Jacob for…quite some time. Isn’t that right, darlin’?”

Maribelle was straightening her apron. She still had her back to them. “Yes.”

Gil continued. “You’re quite a ways from home, son. What brings you this far east? I hope you’re not like those other young folk passing through here seeking adventure in the Bad Lands. Dangerous territory you know.”

“Well, I...” Breeze stopped. He wasn’t sure if he could come out and tell them the truth. They seemed like nice people, but he didn’t know if he could trust them.

He looked at Gil. The old man’s eyes were sharp and bright. He smiled at Breeze in a way that a concerned grandfather would look at his grandson.

Maribelle was still at the stove with her head turned to the side to hear them better.

“Well, I got into an argument with my father, so I hopped a transport to get away. Kept wandering until I got here. Then I found your barn and spent the night in it.”

Gil nodded as he reached for his cup of coffee. He slowly sipped it with an audible slurp and grimaced. “Good coffee,” he called out to his wife and then turned to Breeze. “Son, I don’t want to sit here and poke holes into your story. I’m sure you have something to say, but don’t want to. That’s fine. We all have something to hide for one reason or the other. But I have to say, your tracks that lead into the barn show you coming from the east.”

Breeze flinched.

Gil pressed on. “It’s more than that. I didn’t find any tracks coming out of the woods. It’s like you just landed from the sky and walked straight into the barn.”

Breeze’s heart began to beat so hard he could feel his chest ache.

Maribelle walked over to them. “What my old goat of a husband is trying to ask you but takes forever because he so does like to beat around the bush, is how did you really get here?”

“I flew,” Breeze blurted out.

“Of course!” Gil exclaimed. “Makes perfect sense. You’re from Conception. Your father is Jacob Corinth. He was a well-known flying machine builder back in the day. You must have landed here after testing out some contraption he built and then took refuge in the barn. That’s it, right?”

Breeze shook his head. “No sir. We run a scrap yard. Father buys the waste metal, and we sell it to the builders in the area. I never saw him build anything. Especially aerocraft.”

“Oh, well, fair enough.” He looked over at Maribelle. “So how about some breakfast?”

She waved him off. “How did you get here?”

Breeze looked into her intense, brown eyes. He could feel himself wilt as he looked away from her.

“You flew, didn’t you?” she said softly.

“Maribelle, don’t go stirring up trouble. He is not familiar with such nonsense and doesn’t need to know about it.”

If she heard him, she didn’t seem to care. She leaned toward Breeze and whispered. “You flew. All by yourself.”

Breeze nodded.

She gasped as she placed one hand on his shoulder and the other on her chest.

Breeze looked up at her with surprise. Her hard and crusty persona cracked as her eyes began to well up with tears. “Thomas,” she whispered.

Gil’s smile faded. He closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the table.

“Thomas?” Breeze said.

“He was our son. A good boy. He-,” she stopped to clear her throat and wipe her eyes. “Where are my manners? Let me fetch you that plate.” She turned back to the stove.

Breeze looked to Gil.

Gil smiled faintly. “Tommy was a good boy. Only child. Gifted, to say the least. He’s no longer with us.”

Maribelle put a plate of food before Breeze. “You will spend the night here in the house. I’ll fix up the spare room for you. Gil will see to it that you get to the land port here in town and get you a ticket for the next liner back home. Best for you to be with your father.”

“Ma’am, it’s no trouble. I can find my way back. I don’t mean to be a bother,” Breeze said.

She dismissed him with a wave. “We’ll need to get you some clean clothes. Those rags of yours are a mess. Need to get some clean sheets for you to sleep on also. I have a lot to do today.” She wiped her hands with her apron. “Gil, you best get that old truck of yours up and running. You’ll have to get the young man into town today to get his ticket.”