Shrapnel opened the leather bundle that held the gun and couldn’t suppress a whistle of admiration. It was a beautifully crafted pre-war gun, lovingly kept and cared for. “I can’t accept that.” “Please.” Rosie pressed her lips together for a second, then sighed. “It’ll rust and be ruined if I continue to keep it here. He would’ve wanted someone who could appreciate it to make use of it. Please, take it. We can use an extra pair of hands here for a lot of things, so you wouldn’t have to feel that you hadn’t paid for it.” “I’ll... I’m honoured.” And for the second time that day, Shrapnel felt like a rotten piece of shit. Someone had gifted him with a family heirloom, the most beautiful gun he had ever seen, and only because they didn’t know the truth about him. He had to suppress the urge to blurt out the truth just so someone could know; it suddenly seemed too heavy a load to bear.
Rosie mustered him, and he almost felt she knew the truth, that she could read it in his eyes somehow, and avoided her eyes. After a few moments, she patted his arm. “Take it. And now I think we’d best go to bed.”
The door of the farmhouse wasn’t locked. Just bolted from the inside. Nothing and no one could have stopped Flak and Shrapnel from leaving that night, taking the clothes and the guns and everything edible in the kitchen with them and forgetting about those poor, gullible farmers.
And when the sun rose, they rose as well and went with Jake and Albert to help putting a new roof onto the stable. Flak managed to repair the generator. Shrapnel cleared out the clogged pump at the well. And after another week, Shrapnel found himself suddenly employed as a runner, getting a message to the nearest neighbour’s wife to ask for assistance during the birth of Rosie’s child. The woman in question hurried back with him, and with sunrise, Jake and Rosie had a healthy baby daughter.
That was the point when Flak and Shrapnel thought it wise to leave. Jake and Albert both thanked them warmly for all their help, packed them a few provisions together and gave them what ammo they could spare. They made their farewells and left the farm again shortly before noon x-x-x-x-x-x
Friends will be Friends 5d/8
“Please.” Rosie pressed her lips together for a second, then sighed. “It’ll rust and be ruined if I continue to keep it here. He would’ve wanted someone who could appreciate it to make use of it. Please, take it. We can use an extra pair of hands here for a lot of things, so you wouldn’t have to feel that you hadn’t paid for it.”
“I’ll... I’m honoured.” And for the second time that day, Shrapnel felt like a rotten piece of shit. Someone had gifted him with a family heirloom, the most beautiful gun he had ever seen, and only because they didn’t know the truth about him. He had to suppress the urge to blurt out the truth just so someone could know; it suddenly seemed too heavy a load to bear.
Rosie mustered him, and he almost felt she knew the truth, that she could read it in his eyes somehow, and avoided her eyes. After a few moments, she patted his arm. “Take it. And now I think we’d best go to bed.”
The door of the farmhouse wasn’t locked. Just bolted from the inside. Nothing and no one could have stopped Flak and Shrapnel from leaving that night, taking the clothes and the guns and everything edible in the kitchen with them and forgetting about those poor, gullible farmers.
And when the sun rose, they rose as well and went with Jake and Albert to help putting a new roof onto the stable. Flak managed to repair the generator. Shrapnel cleared out the clogged pump at the well. And after another week, Shrapnel found himself suddenly employed as a runner, getting a message to the nearest neighbour’s wife to ask for assistance during the birth of Rosie’s child. The woman in question hurried back with him, and with sunrise, Jake and Rosie had a healthy baby daughter.
That was the point when Flak and Shrapnel thought it wise to leave. Jake and Albert both thanked them warmly for all their help, packed them a few provisions together and gave them what ammo they could spare. They made their farewells and left the farm again shortly before noon
x-x-x-x-x-x