Variation 4 - Story 1 : The Beggar
He knocks on my door, then threatens me. If i don’t give him a burger. He will duel me.
Apparently it’s not my first get threatened. In fact, any decent man or women has been threatened like this before. This is so common that it has become the standard of a decent person. Definition, that’s the word I’m looking for.
I thought about quitting. Lay down, sleep, like the beggars, who threatens people who do actual work everyday to get fed everyday. No joking, I gave it a serious thought, but forgot what my conclusion then was. Never mind, the point is, I really hate these beggars, even though I totally comprehend this is legit in this stupid game, under the stupid world. Quite smart, if you think about it, it’s actually a brilliant idea: no one would risk their own life just because some punk ass lazy motherfucker wants a burger. The cost and reward just don’t fit.
I got really tired. Getting food in this world is not easy. Once we got here, the production level is immediately mid-age style. I’ve done my share of mandatory charity, so I decide to do something different.
Usually I wouldn’t spare a single word with these beggars. I remember the first time I was asked, I was totally shocked. Then it was confusion, anger, the most anger I had in my life, and the inner outrage to scream out “how the fuck dare you do this to me?”. And of course I did. That day, he didn’t reply anything, he just don’t look at me, and waits, and waits, and waits.
I screamed, cursed at him… Tried pretty much every curse I learned since I was 8, not use at all. After that, I felt depressed, felt cannot do anything about it, felt want to fuck this world right here.
You would want to kill the man in front of you, but then you realize you can’t, unless you risk 50% chance of killing yourself. It’s the deepest humiliation one can get, I promise.
The funny part is, you can get used to shit like this. And gradually, you don’t start to ask questions, or curse at anybody. You either be one of them, or you either be one of my kind, do my regular job, make food for two or three people to not starve. Everyday, they come, some rookie would threaten me with a shivering voice like they never asked before, some would just raise their hands. No matter what, I give them a burger, or a pickle, or 2 piece of rabbit meat.
He threatened me, so likely this is his first couple of times doing this. I looked at him, didn’t do anything. I can tell he is not used to this yet. So I said,
“Why you do this ?” I ask. I haven’t done this for a long time as well.
He looked up, a bit surprised.
“I mean, you don’t seem comfortable with all this, why you do this ?” I continue.
He didn’t say anything. Jack looked at us for a while, then looked away. What’s happening now is a rare show in this area, where most people have survived their first year from suicide attempts or starving. This is way too drama for us now.
“Where did you came from ?” Apparently he is new here.
No answer, of course.
I am starting to feel impatient. The anger never fade away, it hid somewhere. This time it comes up with some extra curiosity, and unexpectedly, excitement.
“If you don’t say a damn word, I won’t give you anything”. I say. I can hear the shiver in my own voice.
He takes a deep breathe, then looks at my eyes. I can tell he is almost crying out. I have the feeling he is about the speak up.
“River 10 section”. He answers. River 10 section is quite far from here.
“Ok, you answered the second question, now the first.” My voice is not shivering now.
“I don’t know. Maybe I got tired.”
“Tired of what ?”
“Tired of being threatened. ”
“So you mean, you used to make your own food ?”
“Yes”.
I asked Jack for a beer, he throw me one immediately, then got back to his wood craft. I know he is listening.
“How is it feel ?” I ask.
“You know it’s my first time doing this right ?”
“Yes. Of course I can tell.”
“It feels nothing. Like absolutely nothing”
“But your voice doesn’t seem like ‘nothing’. You were afraid right ?”
“Afraid, yes. Excitement ? Yes. Relief ? Yes. I also felt nothing” His voice calms down now.
“You don’t know what the word ‘nothing’ means ?”
“Maybe you don’t know how ‘nothing’ feels ” He says, and reached out his hand for my beer. I called Jack, then Jack throw him one.
“Now you owe me a bottle.” Jack says to him.
“Sure.” He said, and then laughs. We all laughs.
