Chapter Text
Molly slid across the counter and heard Beau grumble from the drive through.
“You know it lifts up! I’ve seen you use it!” She called out.
“Yeah but this is more fun!” He stuck his head around the corner and stuck his tongue out at her. She passed the customer his drink and subtly flipped Molly the finger.
“Love you too, darling.” Molly shot her a wink. He slid into the back and saw Yasha, quietly working on the dishes.
“Hello again.” She shot him a smile and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We have a new one.” She jerked her head over her shoulder.
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Molly said. There was a slow, limping gait from behind and he turned to see Fjord holding out a drink.
“Thank you Fjord.” Molly grinned. “You make it the best. What do you think of the new guy?” He asked, leaning against the skin.
“He’s a quiet one.” Fjord said. The cowboy leaned against the rack with the coffee on it. “Doesn’t speak at all.”
“He’s been a week now, and hasn’t said a word.” Yasha said softly.
“Mutism?” Molly asked. He had been the same way, when he had arrived at the Trauma Cafe.
“No. You had nightmares but you made no sound. When he has nightmares I can hear him through the walls.” Yasha said.
“Oh boy does he make noise with those bad dreams.” Fjord ran his hand over his face. “He’s next door to me and I better learn German to keep up.”
“German?” Molly asked.
“Yes.” Yasha said softly. “He’s German, but the commune he was at was here. He’s an adult now, so he’s being held in the states.”
“Well that’s a bitch and a half.” Molly muttered. “When’s his trial date set?”
“No idea.” Yasha commented. She was elbow deep in soapy water, scrubbing syrup pumps and whip cream containers.
“Jester won’t tell us.” Fjord said. “Mirian is playin’ this close to the chest, an’ Jester’s followin’ her mama’s lead.”
“Makes sense. It’s all over the news.” Molly muttered.
“Yes. The poor man’s the kind to like his privacy and he’s now the center of an international crime.” Yasha shook her shaggy head.
“Well, best go do what I do best.” Molly said.
“Be an annoying shit?” Beau asked. Her fake leg echoed through the back room and her dog tags rattled on her chest.
“Naw, that’s your job.” Molly shot her a wink. Beau looked over her shoulder and clapped Fjord on the shoulder.
“You got a customer.” She said. She opened her mouth and sighed, her headset blinking. “No rest for the wicked.” She said, then pushed the button. “Welcome to the Unicorn Queen Coffee Shop, what can I get for you today?” Her customer service was bright and chipper and it gave Molly the heebie-jeebies whenever he heard it. She vanished, taking the customer’s order.
“How goes it with her?” He asked Yasha. He popped the lid from his drink and licked the whip cream off.
“She’s getting better.” Yasha said. “She doesn’t jump at loud noises anymore.”
“That’s good, but that’s not what I meant.” Molly shot his friend a smile.
“Molly,” Yasha sighed. “I can’t just go and ask her out!” Yasha protested.
“Why not?” Molly asked.
“Not only is she my co-worker, but she’s still healing.” Yasha pointed out.
“So are you.” Molly said.
“That is beside the point, Molly.” Yasha said. “I will wait for her to make the first move.”
“She’s the dumbest lesbian I have ever seen, Yasha.” Molly said. “You’ll die before she makes the first move.”
“So be it.” Yasha said softly.
“You are far more patient than I am.” Molly said.
“I’ve found the one.” Yasha explained. “No more of this-” she poked the love bite on Molly’s collarbone, visible under his tanktop - “for me.”
“Alright, alright, I get it, I’m a slut.” Molly said.
“You just haven’t found the right person yet, Molly.”
“And I doubt I will.” He said gently. He rapped his head with his knuckles. “Got a lotta baggage.” He muttered.
“So do we all.” Yasha said gently. She cupped his cheek with a soapy hand and kissed his temple. “Go say hi. Remember Molly, he’s a fragile one.” She bumped him with her hip and he shook his head.
“I will. I promise.” He bumped her with his own hip and headed down deeper into the back. The back door was propped open and that meant people were on the back patio, enjoying the Los Angeles sunshine. Molly opened the door and saw two people sitting on the back table that was for employees only.
There was Nott, with her coffee at her elbow and her food just like he remembered. The woman was small, despite her age, and her black hair was graying at the temples a bit, sharing a table with a man who had his back to Molly. She looked up at Molly and smiled at him.
“I heard we had a new soul.” Molly said with a grin.
“We do. Molly, this is Caleb. Caleb, this is Molly. He used to work here.” She said. The man turned and looked at Molly.
He was thin and scared, looking at a point beyond Molly’s eyes. His red hair was lank and hung in his face and his beard needed a trim. The man looked like he needed five meals and a month of naps. Molly knew that face. That face was the one plastered all over the news.
“It’s good to meet you Caleb. My name’s Mollymuak, but Molly to my friends.” Molly said. “May I join you?” He asked. Caleb glanced to Nott, not saying anything.
“It’s alright. He used to work here. He gets it.” Nott said. Caleb glanced back to Molly and didn’t say anything. Quickly, as if he was scared of the results, Caleb shrugged a bony shoulder.
“Thank you Caleb.” Molly said. He sat down at the edge of the table and lit up a smoke.
“Are you liking it here? I know it can be a bit much, but once you get used to it you’ll like it here.” Molly said. Caleb didn’t answer his question. He fiddled the muffin, picking the blueberries out of it.
“The blueberry one’s good, but you gotta try the cinnamon babka.” Molly said. “I don’t know what she puts in it, but Jester does something to it do make it amazing.”
Caleb glanced up at Molly again and Molly tiled his head, smiling at the other man.
“Yasha says you’re not talking yet.” He said. “That’s okay. It took me three months to start speaking fully. I only said one word when I showed up.” Caleb ran his eyes over Molly’s face.
“I’ll ask you yes and no questions and you can shake or nod your head, how about that?” Molly asked. Tiny, gently, Caleb nodded. Molly smiled gently.
“Do you like it here?” He asked Caleb. He nodded softly.
“Is there something you’d like? Like a hobby set or something?” Molly asked. Caleb nodded again.
“Okay, let me guess…” Molly straddled the bench and took a hit. “A chess set?”
Caleb shook his head.
“Hm…..” Molly said. “Knitting stuff? Yasha can knit, you know.”
Caleb shook his head. He was bigger with his gestures.
“Plants?”
Caleb made a face this time.
“Yeah I have a black thumb myself.” Molly admitted. He took a sip of his drink.
“Books?”
Caleb nodded, eyes going wide.
“Can you read in English? I know you’re German and you obviously know English when it’s spoke. But can you read it?” Molly asked. Caleb nodded.
“Good good. Now we know what you like.” Molly said. “Do you have a library card?” He asked. Caleb shook his head.
“Well, we’ll have to fix that.” He shot Caleb a wide smile and the other man ducked, hiding under his hair again. Molly locked eyes with Nott and they shared a look.
It was going to take a while to get Caleb anywhere near functioning, clearly.
“Caleb! Are you back here!” Jester’s voice echoed through the back room and the door opened. “Molly!”
“Jester! Darling!” He flung open his arms wide as Jester hugged him. She was big and soft and always smelled like sugar and frosting and he adored her. She pulled back, beaming at him.
“I’ve missed you Molly!” Her crop top had a cartoon unicorn on it and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and her cheekbones were dusted with freckles and there were stretch marks on her hips and flour on her knuckles and he loved her.
“I missed you too darling.” He said. He really had missed her.
“Oh Caleb!” Jester said. “I see you’ve met Molly!” Caleb glanced up at Jester, eyes wide. He nodded softly.
“I know Molly can be a bit much, but he’s really really nice. He used to be here you know! He used to work for a carnival, and there was like, this big accident, and he got in hit in the head with something and ended up loosing like all of his memories and he came here to work for my mom while he recovered!” She said. Molly parted his hair to show the gnarly scalp scar. Caleb made a face and Molly swore he heard a noise.
“It was bad.” Molly said. “Like I said, I didn’t talk when I first got here.”
“Caleb, I have something for you!” Jester beamed. “Here!” She held out an envelope. “I know you don’t have a social security number yet, so your first week’s wages are all in cash!”
Caleb looked at the envelope like it was a ticking bomb. He looked to Jester and shook his head.
“Caleb, you need to be paid. You work hard. The back room is looking better than ever and the books have never been neater.” Jester said softly. She sat in Molly’s lap and he put his head on her shoulder.
“You deserved to be paid for the work you do.” Jester said softly. Caleb shook head, backing up a bit.
“Caleb, there are no strings with this.” Jester said. “It’s honest pay for honest work.”
Caleb bolted. He scrambled off the bench and flung up the door and Molly heard him thumping up the steps to the dorms.
“Fuck!” Jester pouted, moving from Molly’s lap to sit on the bench.
“Give him time, Jester.” Nott said softly.
“Was it like the news says?” Molly asked. “Was it a cult?”
“Full on dooms-day prepper.” Nott said with a nod. “There’s a lot that hasn’t come out into the news yet. There was…well…” She took a breath.
“I think he was tortured.” She said flat out. Molly felt his eyes grow wide.
“They found underground cells, with handcuffs hanging from the ceilings. Inside there were all sorts of things, like fire hoses and shit.” Nott said. “I think he was taught not to speak because if he does he’ll get hurt.”
“Oh God that’s horrible.” Molly said.
“Yeah. There’s more. It’s not my place to tell you. But there’s more.” Nott sighed, scratching at her scalp. “It’s a grade a shit show, you guys.” She said. “This was the first time he’s communicated to someone other than me, so there’s that.”
“I’ll drop by more often, then.” Molly said.
“I’ll take his money. Maybe he’ll listen to me.” Nott said. Jester slid over the envelope. Molly sighed, his head falling back. He opened his eyes and saw Caleb looking at them from his window. He shot Caleb a tiny smile and waved at him. He jerked the curtains back and pulled away from the window.
Caleb pressed himself to the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. He wasn’t used to this place. Everyone was so nice to him. Yasha was firm and quiet and gentle in her strength, Fjord smiled at him and didn’t mind it when Caleb clung to the walls like a spider. Nott had taken him under her wing and was treating him like a mother. Jester had been very kind, even going to far as to learn how to make German pastries that Caleb hadn’t had since he was a child. Even Beau, in her own gruff way, was nice to him. She didn’t treat him a child, or like he was broken.
Even though he was.
This new man, Molly, was of the same mold. He was kind to Caleb, even going so far as to ask him questions in a way that Caleb was used to. He wasn’t used to be being to voice his opinions, but the fact that Molly was asking him questions at all meant something.
He was used to being told what to do. He was used to being told what to do and obeying or he was hit. He was used to that. He was used to the quiet desperation that hung on the Compound like a scarf. He could still hear The Ikathon’s words as he shut his eyes.
“There is a storm coming, Jacob. You have to be prepared.”
He had been called Jacob for nearly eighteen years. For eighteen years, Caleb had his identity pulled away. By the end of the third week, when he had been allowed out of the cage he had been in, he was weak with hunger and dirty and would have done anything they had asked to be allowed to eat real food.
In the end, he had nearly forgotten who he was. The first time he had been called Caleb, he hadn’t responded. It had taken two weeks for him to reply to his given name. He took a shaky breath and ran his hands through his hair.
He hadn’t been given permission to shower yet, so it was greasy and lank. He curled up on the bed, taking up the smallest space possible.
He had a whole room and a whole bed to himself. It seemed a bit excessive to him, to be honest. He wasn’t used to having a room to himself, let alone a bed. He was a bit scared to stretch out and enjoy it; he was terrified that this was all a trap. That one day, when he was comfortable and enjoying himself, someone would hurt him. Someone would tell him he’s not allowed, and he’d be thrown into a cell. Caleb shut his at the memories of the cells.
He had only been in there twice, but God that was twice too many. He was a very lucky person, only having been down there twice. There was a girl that had been given to him, Lucy, he remembered her to this day. She had been a tiny slip of a thing, but full of fight. She had refused to do what The Ikathon had told her, so she was down in the cells every other week.
He could still see her, tied to the post in the center of the Compound, back flogged and bloody, her flesh hanging off in strips, as the flies swarmed her back.
She survived, but she was back down in the cells the next month. Caleb pressed his head to his knees, hearing steps on the stairs. It was Nott’s light tread. There was a knock on his door.
“Caleb?” She called out. “May I come in?”
That was a trick. She would come in anyway. Ikathon always did. Caleb stood and opened the door, even though he wanted to be alone. He couldn’t refuse; he’d be hurt if he refused. He opened the door and hid behind it, blinking at her.
“Thank you Caleb.” Nott took a few steps in. “Now, I don’t know why you’re refusing your wages, but it’s illegal to work people without pay.” She said. “You’ve worked hard here, and you deserve to be paid.”
Caleb shook his head.
“You do.” Nott said. “That back room is neater than I ever seen it. You have a talent for putting things away and keeping things organized.”
Caleb shook his head again. He couldn’t take the money. He couldn’t touch the money. Money was the root of evil, the root of corruption, if he touched it he would be evil and corrupt too.
And Caleb wanted to be good.
He shook his head and took a step back.
“I’m not going to let Jester break the law, Caleb.” Nott said gently. “I’ll leave it on the desk for you then, alright?” She took a few steps into his room and laid the envelope on the desk.
“Now, you can do what you like with it, but you will be getting paid every week.” Nott took a step back into the door frame.
“Is there anything else you need Caleb?” Nott asked. “Molly mentioned books.”
He would like books. He had liked reading, before. He didn’t shake his head so quickly, hesitating a bit. He shook his head gently, knowing he couldn’t ask. If he asked for things he was being greedy and covetous. He needed to accept what they gave him and not ask for more.
“Are you sure?” Nott asked.
Caleb nodded.
“You know, I think you’re lying to me.” She said gently. Caleb shook his head, curling in on himself. He wasn’t lying to her, he couldn’t ask for things, God if she thought he was lying he would get hurt, he could feel the switch coming down on his back, The Ikathon’s breath hot in his ear, the gag in his mouth to prevent him from crying out.
“You know, it’s okay to ask for things.” Nott said gently. She reached out and stopped herself before she could touch him. “You can ask for things here, and nobody’s going to hurt you. Wanting things is human nature.”
Caleb shook his head, stepping closer to the wall. He resisted the urge to kneel and bend his head in supplication.
“Alright then Caleb. If it’s alright with you, I’ll leave some books here on the step I think you’ll like.” Nott said. “Something with a good story, to take you away for a bit, I think.” She said with a small smile.
Caleb dithered.
She wanted to do this for him, but it felt like a trap. The Ikathon had done this to him, before. Offering him things he wanted and then punishing Caleb for wanting them. Wanting things is what would bring about the End Times, according to The Ikathon. He settled for a tiny, noncommittal shrug.
“Okay. Good.” Nott said with a smile. “I’ll be leaving you now. Thank you letting me in, Caleb.” She shot him a wide, toothy smile and left.
Caleb shut the door softly and moved. He moved his body out of line of sight of the crack in the door. He knew better than to drop to the ground to see under it; they can see you right back. He opened his mouth to breathe so his nose wouldn’t whistle as he listened. He listened as Nott vanished. He heard nothing, but that didn’t mean anything.
Sure enough, not five minutes later, she was back. She rested something at the base of his door and left.
Caleb counted his heartbeats. He had learned that at on hundred and thirty beats, they were gone. It had never failed him. Sure enough, he cracked open the door at one thirty and the hall was empty. He snagged the books and shut the door gently.
He clutched them to his chest, the corners of his lips tugging up in a tiny smile. He quickly clapped his hand over his mouth; smiling showed free will and free will wasn’t allowed. He hurried over to his bed and cradled the books. He put them gently aside before opening the first and sticking his face in the pages and breathing in deep.
The smell of the ink and paper and glue and dust wafted over him and he felt the tension bleed from his shoulders.
Oh he had missed this. He had missed the feeling of the paperbacks in his hand, of the smell rising from the pages, of the paper under his finger tips. He felt himself smiling and really didn’t care. Not here, not right now. He settled back onto his pillows and began to read.
Caleb didn’t notice the sun was setting, so absorbed was he in the story of a not-so-bad demon and a not-so-good angel and the missing Antichrist that he didn’t notice it was growing dark until he was squinting at the page. He reached for the light on instinct and then blinked. He jumped off the bed, knowing he only had a little bit of time to do what he needed to do.
Molly had done his usual Friday routine. He helped his friends close up shop and then joined them on the roof to get high and eat left over pastries. Fjord and Beau got high to manage pain for the missing limbs. Yasha got high to keep her anxiety at bay. Molly high because it was fun.
He was sobering up, with the taste of jam on his tongue and his stomach uncomfortably full. That was the worst bit about getting high; he got the munchies like fucking mad.
“Alright, I’m headed home.” He kissed Yasha and Jester on the cheek, clapped Fjord’s shoulder, ruffled Nott’s hair and gave Beau the finger. She gave him one back as he descended the steps. He almost left the building before deciding that a cup of tea on the way home would be nice. It was a quick thing to make, and wouldn’t ruin his friend’s close. He was digging the tea bag out of the plastic when he heard soft sounds from the back. He paused, and then heard it again.
The rustling of cardboard, and a soft noise of a person that he didn’t know. Molly turned. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone had tried to rob them. Usually it was people from other parts of LA. The people around their little section knew the good that the cafe did, and protected it fiercely. Molly grabbed his keys and slipped his fingers through a keychain. It was made to look like a kitty face, with the ears standing in as a sharp weapon. He quietly put his cup down and stalked into the back room.
In the back there was a box that was full of flattened boxes, tucked away to be recycled tomorrow. And rooting around in it, a dirty towel under his arm, was Caleb. Molly could hear him muttering softly under his breath, but the words were too soft for Molly to make them out. He rifling through the boxes, looking for something.
“Did you drop something, Caleb?” Molly asked softly. Caleb froze like a deer in the headlights, looking at Molly. His big blue eyes were so wide with fear that Molly could see the whites around them.
Caleb dropped to his knees, head bowed, hands palm-up on his thigh, trembling with fear.
He had been caught stealing.
He had been caught stealing.
He was going to be hurt.
He was going to be punished now. He felt tears prick his eyes as terror suffocated him. Oh God, he was so stupid, he was sure the front had been empty, why hadn’t he checked, he was so fucked. He shut his eyes, praying the tears wouldn’t fall, as he waited for Molly to hit him.
“Hey, it’s alright.” Molly dropped to his knees in front of Caleb. “If you want a box you take it. They’re just gonna get thrown out anyway.”
Caleb still didn’t move, terrified.
“Hey, how about this one?” Molly grabbed a box and folded it open. “Nice and medium sized. No stains or tears. No dicks on it either. Should hold your stuff just fine.”
At Molly’s words Caleb opened his eyes and risked glancing at Molly.
The man’s beautiful was split into a soft smile, his gray eyes hopeful. Caleb couldn’t take his eyes from his pale purple hair or the metal in his face or the tattoos on his cheeks. Those had been forbidden in the Compound. Caleb swallowed and glanced to the box.
He opened his mouth slowly to speak and then decided against it.
Caleb shook his head.
“It’s not for you? Who is it for, then?” Molly asked gently. He wanted to know who this box was for.
“Go on. You can take. It’s just a box. There’s hundreds more here.” Molly said, offering the box. Caleb’s hand was visibly shaking as he reached out. He swallowed and Molly saw his jaw tense as he touched the box.
He waited, as if he expected Molly to snap at him, or hurt him, or take the box away. Molly did nothing, just knelt there on concrete floor, knees aching.
Caleb slowly took the box. He rose to his feet and headed out the back door.
“Caleb, can I join you?” Molly asked. Caleb looked over his shoulder to Molly, head tilted. He nodded softly and Molly rose, smiling.
The man did have a pretty smile, Caleb mused. He felt guilt wrack his form at once. He shouldn’t have those thoughts about other men. They were wrong. No children came from those kinds of unions, and that’s what sex was supposed to do; give children. Caleb averted his gaze and sat on the back step. He put the box on the ground and tucked the towel into it, before pulling out a can of tuna.
He made a whistle and a kissy noise and cracked open the can.
Molly watched this as he lit up a smoke and then, softly, from the dark alleyway, there was a chirruping noise. A tabby cat trotted up to Caleb, meowing the whole time. It was a scrappy cat, with notches in it’s ears and scabs on it’s nose and Molly could see it’s ribs, but it purred loudly enough for Molly to hear as it wound about Caleb’s shins before settling in to eat the tuna.
“You have a cat.” Molly said with a smile. Caleb looked up at him and made a little shrug.
“You’ve adopted a cat, then.” Molly said. “May I sit with you?” He asked. He knew the importance of boundaries. Caleb nodded and Molly sat on the other side of the step.
“He’s a skinny thing.” Molly muttered. He reached out and the tabby lifted his head from the tuna to sniff along Molly’s fingers. “Have you named him yet?”
Caleb nodded.
“What’s his name?” Molly asked.
Caleb glanced up to Molly and then to the cat. He had been so quiet for so long that he had to remember how to speak. He cleared his throat once.
“Frumpkin.” Caleb said gently. “His name is Frumpkin.”
Caleb’s voice was rusty and quiet, like an old squeeze toy with a bad squeaker. It was heavily accented with German and Molly felt a wide grin split his face. It was a good voice, and he wanted to make Caleb talk more, and he wanted to make Caleb laugh. God knows the man could use a laugh.
“Frumpkin.” Molly said, running his hand down the cat’s spine. He lounged on the step, elbows on the concrete as he stretched his long legs out.
“Ja.” Caleb said softly, then blanched. He ran his hand over his mouth. “Sorry. English only, I know.”
Molly turned to Caleb.
“You can speak German if you like. You won’t get in trouble for that here.” Molly said gently.
Caleb shook his head. “Not allowed.” He spoke gently. It was odd, speaking again after so much time spent in silence.
“You will not…” He spoke slowly. His throat was already hurting. “You will take him from me?” He asked, scared. He glanced to Molly who looked at him shock.
“God, of course not, no Caleb I won’t.” Molly rose to a sitting position and looked at Caleb. “Nobody else will either.” He said.
A knot of tension slowly started to unwind in Caleb’s chest. Frumpkin licked the tuna can clean and started washing his face.
“Thank you, Mollymauk.” He said gently.
“Please, call me Molly.” The other man said with a grin. Caleb blinked at him a few times before reaching out and running a hand along Molly’s hair.
“I like bright colors.” Molly said.
“I have never seen this.” Caleb confessed.
“Nobody where you came from had hair like mine?”
“No. It was forbidden.” Caleb said.
“By who?” Molly asked.
“The Ikathon.” Caleb said simply, as if that answered all the questions Molly had.
Molly wanted to ask more questions about where Caleb had come from, but he didn’t want to push too hard too soon. Caleb was just starting to speak and he didn’t want to frighten him back into silence.
“Things must be different for you.” Molly mused.
Caleb nodded. “Less guns, for one.” He had yet to see a single gun. At the Compound they were everywhere. On hips and in hands and on tables and on walls and on the backs of the trucks. Here had yet to see a single gun. Fjord talked about them, sometimes with Beau, where Caleb could hear. He hadn’t been the best shot at the Compound, but he had been the quickest to break down and reassemble them. His mind was quick with puzzles.
“What do you mean?” Molly asked softly. He shifted, crossing his legs and slouching a bit.
“No guns.” He gestured. “There were lots of them, in…the Compound.” He had almost called the place ‘home’.
“Why?” Molly asked. “Literally, why?” He had never fired a gun in his life. Beau had wanted to take him shooting before he had put his foot down. He had no intention of ever handling a gun. Ever.
“Protection.” Caleb said with a shrug. “There were wolves and bears and mountain lions and sometimes drug smugglers.” He explained.
“Darling, where were you where you had to deal with wolves?” Molly turned to Caleb, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen a wolf.”
“They are not that bad. Really. You hear them before you see them. It’s the cats you have be careful of. They sneak.” Caleb reached out and ran a finger down Frumpkin’s spine. “And I cannot say.”
“Why not?” Molly asked.
“The government. The…ah…what is the people…” Caleb snapped his fingers in irritation. “The people with the letters for their name?”
“The C.I.A?”
“No, the other one.”
“The F.B.I?”
“Ja - sorry - yes.” Caleb said. “They said I cannot speak of the location.”
“Why are you working with the F.B.I?” Molly asked.
Caleb just shook his head. His throat was hurting and found himself rubbing at it.
“Your throat hurt?” Molly asked. Caleb nodded.
“I am not used to talking much.” He confessed.
“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” Molly stood, his bones creaking and vanished back into the cafe. Caleb heard Molly puttering about and resisted the urge to see what was going on. He wasn’t used to the idea of men in places like the kitchen and the laundry room. Those were the domains of the women back at the Compound. He had only been allowed in the women’s quarters under strict supervision, and only when a birth had gone wrong or someone was ill and none of the women knew quite what to do.
He felt Frumpkin tread on his thigh lightly and curl up into his lap. He scratched the cat behind his ear and Frumpkin purred, and started kneading the meat of Caleb’s thigh. Caleb heard the door open and Molly joined him again on the patio, but this time he had two paper cups in his hands. He held one out to Caleb. Caleb just glanced at it, then up to Molly’s face.
“Go on.” Molly urged gently. “I made it for you.”
Caleb gently reached out and took the cup, his fingers brushing the back of Molly’s hand. He sniffed it gently and then took a tiny sip.
It was warm and tasted of honey and mint and lemon and it soothed the ache in Caleb’s throat. He took a slightly larger sip, knowing he was now in Molly’s debt at least once.
“This is good.” He said gently.
“I’m glad you like it.” Molly said. “Hey, can I see you again tomorrow?” He asked.
“Why?” Caleb asked, suddenly suspicious.
“I want to make sure you get on well here.” Molly said. “I’m not stalking you or anything I promise. I like you. I want you to be happy here.”
Caleb snorted. He would have laughed at that, had he been capable of laughter. It had been beaten out of him, over the years.
“I do not think I am able to be happy, anymore.” He said gently. He took another sip and Frumpkin licked his knuckles before crawling off his lap and into the box. He curled into a ball and started to doze.
“Well, you can always re-learn.” Molly said gently. “I know when I first showed up I was….well…I was terrified.” He laughed. “I didn’t say a thing for a good long while. The only word I said was ‘empty’.”
He still had nightmares about waking up empty, about waking up in a hospital room, the smell of bleach deep in his nose, tube in his throat, unable to read or speak or move, not knowing who he was or where he was at. He hated those nights. He hated it.
“I found my voice here. It seems you have too.” Molly said with a tiny smile. “I found happiness here. I found a family. Maybe you can, too.” He beamed at Caleb. “I’m heading home. Don’t stay out here too long. It gets cold at night.”
Caleb knew an order when he heard it.
“Yes.” He said. He watched Molly rise to his feet. “Drive safely, Mollymauk.”
“Sleep well Caleb.”
“Mollymauk….I would like to see you again, tomorrow. If possible.” Caleb confessed. He saw Molly smile that crooked grin of his and Caleb felt sudden warmth blooming in his chest.
“I’ll be here.” Molly said. He vanished down the alley to the parking lot. Caleb watched him vanish into the dark, frowning at himself.
Oh dear. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.