Poppy welcomed me into a house full of garbage. Everything was disordered, like a hurricane had passed through her house and no one dared to organize her stuff.
Papers littered the floor, boxes of whatever's inside of it were stacked in the corner, clothes hung everywhere, and she had a shelf full of displays and figurines with broken mechanisms.
"Were you collecting things from the junkyard?" I couldn't help but ask while looking around, afraid that there might be dangerous animals lurking in her unclean place.
"Nope, these are the things I stole from people and shops since I was little. I just can't let go of them that fast, so I stuck them all here," she replied, dragging herself down on the couch that blew a cloud of dust as she propped herself.
Fanning my hand in the air, I coughed when the dust got into my throat. "Don't you know how to clean your house?"
"I'm not always around; I have to go outside to live. For food and needs"
The house, around thirty square meters, had just one window that was blocked by a thick curtain that looked like it hadn't been washed for years. Lots of unnecessary things were scattered everywhere, and even her broken table had stacks of old ripped books.
Taking a chair, I picked up a sheet of paper from the floor and used it to brush it clean before I sat on it.
I felt my body relax, and the exhaustion I had forgotten to entertain finally caught up with me.
"You're already home, safe and sound. I still have something to do. Would you mind if I stay here for a while before I go?"
"What?" Puffing, she smiled at me. "I promised a good adventure to myself, snotty rich boy. I got myself in a good chase, rode the old train for the first time, got shot, and was brought back to life. I think it's worth pushing this forward."
I checked my wrist and found my money untouched. Maybe I should give her some. She earned it, right?
The sound of her yawn caught my attention; tiredness was written on her face. All of those dangers we crossed paths with, and she's not asking for something in return? That's impossible.
"What's your catch?" Suddenly, I asked.
"What do you mean, what's 'my' catch?" She glanced in my direction before pushing herself to sit up. "I don't have one, smartass. Why are you doubting me?"
"I find it hard to understand why you're helping me."
Staring at me for a second, she chuckled and protruded her lips. "Not everything in this world is always about greed or giving and taking or whatever you wealthy people think about us who belong on the lower ground. It's actually more of a paradise here compared to your city lights. Only if there's enough food."
"It's still questionable."
"Do you think that I'm aiming for something in you while I'm helping you to get through all your shits?" Squinting her eyes, she leaned forward, putting her elbows on both of her knees. "Well, Mr. Nickel, if I would let myself be controlled by my wants, I can take whatever I need even without money. I already told you about that; whatever I need is with me, nowhere else."
Silenced for a bit, I still tried to piece it together. But it felt like I was puzzling over a nonexistent piece.
"People like me have nothing to lose. We care less, we do risky shits. But either way, I think I belong nowhere," she chuckled. "But the perks of being like me, I live freely."
Arching my eyebrows, I thought she was crazy. There's nothing as easy as what she does, only illegal.
"I don't deal with family issues, no one wants my head for money, I don't bring great danger to every place I go, I don't have to hide from town to town just to live. Yes, I'm a slippery criminal, but they don't care much about me. I'm just a minor case. Unlike you."
"Me?"
"Yeah, you." She pointed her forefinger at me. "Though be thankful you got me. Are you thankful?"
I stared at her; she was looking at me with hope and expectations that I blew away when I shook my head.
"You're cold and mean," she snorted before heading to a shelf where there were rolls of huge papers, maybe maps, that she kept and tossed one at me. "That's our key to find Poison Ivy."
"No, I have to find Jurgen."
"There's this old bar called Climbing Poison Ivy just past this village, but it's not on the map. I've been there once, but the place was closed because of the fire that happened. The owner couldn't rebuild it." She pulled herself a chair and helped me roll open the map. "I don't think you even need to find whoever that Jurgen guy is if you have me."
She stared at me with a frown on her face. "You're still up for this?"
"Why not? We're partners, right?" Nudging my side with her elbow, I set aside the countless thoughts in my head and focused on what could be the building plan.
Hugh told me what to do but didn't instruct me accurately. I don't even know where to find Jurgen.
"Now, if you really want to follow your godfather's instructions, we're going to have a hard time finding Jurgen," she said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Didn't he give you any clues or something about where to find your guy?"
Recalling the plan, a bulb lit up above my head. "What's the smallest town here in Median?"
She hummed, looking at the falling ceiling of her house while touching her chin. "I'm not sure if it's Gray Town. No one has ever referred to any place here as the smallest or largest. But if we look at the map, it's either Gray Town or Low Mountain."
"What's in Gray Town?"
"It's an abandoned place." She pointed it out on the map, where it was in between two thirsty rivers. "The land has a lot of leaking gas from underneath, must be from the old tunnels running from Middle Town to the sea. But that was shut down after a tragic incident about twelve years ago."
"How tragic?" I didn't mean to know more, but I found my tongue making words, giving up to my curiosity.
"More than three hundred people died. The opening of the tunnel collapsed, trapping the workers with the suffocating smell of gas. Something must have sparked under there; the fumes met it, then fire," she narrated a nightmare, her voice low. "All of the bodies were found after the explosion happened; no one survived it."
Cursing under my breath, I stared at the map.
"I heard from around that it was intentional; a theory came up from the elders that it was the Palace's plan because the population kept growing here in Median."
Is that even possible? That's far from cruel; it's monstrosity!
"But that's already a history" she sighed. "Gray Town is empty; no one would dare to live there, not even the poor. The gas will kill them before they starve to death."
"So, that leads us to Low Mountain?" I found it on the map and pointed at it. "I remember my godfather told me that if I find the smallest town in Median, that's where I'll find Jurgen."
I heard nothing in response; when I lifted my eyes, I saw worry.
"What?"
"Can you tell me again what your godfather does?"
Confused but answered, "He's a major in Nabe Levy; why? Is something wrong?"
"And he told you to go there?" As if she couldn't believe it, she frowned at me.
"Can you just tell me what's wrong?"
Licking her lips, she shook her head. "Low Mountain is a battleground. It's like a low-class casino where they bet on deaths. They deal with illegal shits. The only people visiting that place are those you don't want to meet."
"How do you know?"
It seemed like her lips were sewn shut for a minute before she exhaled harshly. "How much do you trust your godfather?"
"Enough."
"And once you find Jurgen, he will lead you to Poison Ivy?"
"That was the plan."
"I don't know when your godfather last visited here, but Low Mountain's Poison Ivy isn't a great place to be free."
"What are you trying to say? My godfather would never mean me any danger. He's the help I need, and he's going to be my key to clear my name!" Sensing her doubt, I questioned her.
"You don't get it. I've been here all my life. I have crawled through every tunnel here, familiarized myself with every town, and trust me when I say it's not safe."
Turning my back to her, I faced the windows and peered through the gaps. There wasn't much to see outside but darkness. It was the middle of the night, and everyone was asleep.
It was so quiet and dark in this place, unlike 400, where all day and night, it was loud and bright. I was so far away from home.
Standing inside this house, I felt like I had traveled back in time before the future had come. Where am I now?
"Poison Ivy is a waterfall. But there is no view there, Nickel. There are only dead bodies. That's where they throw slaughtered people. People who go there don't mean to return. If you step foot in that place, one of your feet is already buried underground."
My whole body went numb from what I had just heard.
It cannot be.
Hugh is the only person left that I could trust. Maybe Poppy is lying, or she just couldn't understand my situation.
Jurgen has all the answers; I need to find him.
"Look, we're both tired, we're both still in shock from the haze. Why don't we take a rest and settle this first thing tomorrow morning?" She offered, and I nodded to dismiss it.
Drowning in so many questions piled up in my head, I leaned my shoulder on the wall and let out a heavy sigh.
What have I done to deserve all this? Was it because I never thought about how valuable life is? Was it because I was never a good son?
"Here."
A cup of good-smelling drink invaded all my senses. When I turned, I saw her offering me a cup of brown drink. She took my hand and made me hold the cup.
"Don't worry, the cup is clean, and I'm not going to poison you if that's what you're worried about," she chuckled, watching my expression.
"You don't have to kill me if you want to rob me, right?"
She let out a low laugh before sipping her own drink.
Taking it from her hand, I checked what's inside. I thought it smelled good, looked good, and seemed safe, maybe?
"Look, I can be wrong, you know?" She said, sounding a little forced to imply an apology through an explanation. "Maybe some places here in Median have had an upgrade without my knowledge. To tell you the truth, I'm just saying what I know."
Agreeing with her, I kept my eyes glued to the drink.
"I don't mean to break your trust with your godfather or go against what you planned. But I want to let you know that if you trip and fall, I'll do my best to try and catch you."
"Do you know how many times I've asked myself, why are you helping me? I just can't understand. Like, what was the reason? I'm pretty sure that people don't help someone and even lend their own life just for a stranger's freedom with a fine above his head."
The drink's bubbles burst one by one as the aroma reached my nose. It was soothing, but it wasn't enough to give me a reason to calm myself down.
As much as I wanted to convince myself that all of this was just a nightmare, reality was a total bitch, and I was a victim.
"When I first saw you in Maven, I thought that we were wearing the same shoes," she began, breaking the thick silence that started to build between us. "From how you look, I knew you were in deep trouble."
"All my life, I never had anyone help me live a day because I'm a little shit stuck on their shoes that they needed to clean up. And all my life, I never had the chance to do something right. I saw your face on the digital tabloid; you were wanted for murder, and the reward for whoever turned you over was a chance to live in 400. I thought at first, why not bring you in? My dream was to live a life where I wouldn't worry about where I was going to steal my food, when was the right time to steal, or anything," she chuckled, feeling the clay mug in her hands.
"We were so close to the Levies; one call from them, and you would be caught and thrown wherever they wanted you to be. But when I looked at you, I thought you were so young, your eyes were innocent. I didn't think at that time, I didn't have any idea why I helped you and got stuck with you."
My question, her question. Where is the answer to that?
She offered me a smile when our eyes met. She was the one to break the silence as she reached for her pouch, took out a locket, and handed it to me.
"Did you also pick this from someone's bag?"
"That's actually mine, surprisingly," she chuckled.
I opened it, and I immediately found a picture of a young boy with a wide smile on his face.
"His name was Rocky; he was my younger brother. Not biologically, but I loved and cared for him like one," she introduced, while my eyes were glued to the picture of the boy. "We were raised stealing fruits and boxes from the rations given by trucks from 400. He used to complain about always being caught doing it, and I didn't."
The sound of her laugh was a mix of joy and sorrow; I could hear it. But there was something else.
"We were living fine, even if it was difficult, until we accidentally messed with the wrong person. He was just a kid. We both were. But not all people here in Median were good. We stole a plate of food from a guy named Bullet. I was busy picking canned fruits while Rocky was being pursued. When he was caught, I heard him scream."
In my head, I could picture it.
"He was calling my name, calling for my help. But I got scared. So I ran away."
I found the right word: regret, guilt.
"The next day, I heard from around that Rocky's body was found miles and miles away from here. He was thrown at the waterfall called 'Poison Ivy'. And the guy who killed him? He just disappeared. People whispered that he fought against the Levies, but no one was sure about it," she sniffled.
Weakness; it wasn't something I saw in her. Right now, she was vulnerable, and she was hiding it from me.
"There wasn't a day or a night that I wasn't eaten by guilt," she said, wiping her cheeks clean from tears. "When I saw you lost and completely helpless, you reminded me of him. You both have the eyes."
I looked at the eyes of the boy, and I couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, we do."
"But he's a nice and polite kid, unlike you."
Scoffing, I looked at her. "What am I?"
"Mean and cold, the typical attitude of people with a lot of money in their pockets," she answered, getting over her emotions.
"I don't have money in my pocket; it's in my--" I paused when I lifted my wrist and found it empty. Sighing, I turned in her direction and found her swinging my bracelet in the air. "Alright, give it back."
"Why would I?"
"How did you even get it from me?"
"I already told you, magic hands," she laughed before tossing it back to me. "Go get some sleep; we've got a lot of things to do tomorrow," she dismissed, finishing her drink and carelessly sliding the cup into the sink full of unwashed dishes.
"You're a woman and you don't know how to properly clean yourself and your house?" I judged.
"Stop taking that as your problem; it's mine. Just get some sleep, and I promise you, once you're free, I'm going to bombard you at 400 and ask for your help to clean my place up," she replied, her voice groggy as she passed out instantly on the sofa.
The silence thickened around me; only the faint sound of the cable vehicles running somewhere in Median rang in my ears.
Setting the chair near the window, I peeped through the gaps and found the empty road. Up above were the old rails for the cable vehicles. The lights needed fixing.
A lot of things needed aid around here.
I couldn't help but chuckle. Just a few days ago, I was arguing with my father after being forced to agree to visit Median and supposedly distribute rations. Yet here I am, scurrying my way here with a person who voluntarily lent a hand when I least expected it.
I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Poppy.
My perspective towards people like her was beginning to change. Should I just let it happen? And what about my godfather and the things I just figured out?
Everything had a question mark, and I would never jump to conclusions. I wanted direct answers; I needed them as soon as possible.
I would soon be free, and once I am, I will make things right.
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