[5]: A Shivering Night (3)
Chapter 5: A Shivering Night (3)
The night felt gloomy and lonely as the silence ensued. The small light cast a shadow on Marco's lowered face; he was distracted, devoured by the emotions barging into his chest.
Marco snapped out of his unfocused state, the horde of emotions frittering away as the stranger tapped his bike's seat, the noise echoing in the empty street. The elder gestured him to move aside, which he silently obeyed.
'I didn't know the car I was leaning on was his,' he thought, a little startled.
The young lad stepped away and sat on his motorbike, left hand in his pocket, while he rested his elbow on the cold gas tank. He quietly watched the stranger unlock his car. Two quiet beeps sounded before the unknown man reached out to open the door.
After contemplating it, Marco willed himself to speak up before the stranger could enter the driver's seat.
"Uhm… sir. Do you perhaps know a place where I could sleep tonight? Anything would be fine, like a hotel, inn, or something?" Marco was unsure how to phrase it, so he just let himself speak out about what was bothering him.
Keys at hand, the stranger turned towards him, "Kid. You'll have a hard time getting one in this town, much less at this hour. You see, this town is small. The accommodations for tourists or visitors weren't that much. We only have a single hotel, a couple of old inns, and hostels."
Marco lowered his gaze, his right foot kicking the asphalt ground.
'Huh. So what now? Where will you go, Marcus?'
The stranger sighed while looking at the bothered young man. "Alright, kid. Spend the night at my place."
The once dejected lad's ears automatically perked up after hearing his offer.
"Just follow me," the old man said while adjusting his ragged cap.
"Tapadh leibh! Thank you very much, sir. I'm really grateful," Marco stood up and shook his hands, thanking him while smiling politely. ¹
The stranger sneered at the young lad and shoved him away. He then entered his car and ignited the engine; the mechanical sound reverberated throughout the parking lot. Marco panicked and ran inside the convenience store to pick up his baggage.
The cashier, who was still holding a book, paused with his reading when the young lad entered the store in a hurry. He watched the youngster clean up his table and throw the food wrappers in the wastebasket with indifference written on his face.
Under watchful eyes, Marco finished cleaning the table. He then picked up his belongings and nodded at the young man at the counter, who was just observing him blankly. He did not pay much attention to the other person's behavior; since the youngster seemed to have a naturally indifferent façade.
When Marco exited the convenience store, the stranger was already driving.
"Hurry up, kid! I might change my mind!" the old man shouted as he stuck out his left hand from the window and waved it in the air. He then laughed like Mr. Clause.
Marco hopped on his bike and followed suit. The old guy was driving moderately, so the distance was not a problem for the lost soul. It would be easy to catch up with the pace.
The drive did not even last for five minutes when the car he was closely tailing stopped in front of a two-story building. Marco put down his helmet while looking at the building, observing its structure.
'It must be the garage or something like that,' Marco thought as he noted the ramp-up in the lower front of the two-story.
The stranger got off his car and went to the side of the building. Marco saw him walking over, so he followed without a word while gripping the strap of his bag. It was credulous of him, and he knew it, but the lost soul hope he could trust the stranger.
'I don't think this elder is goin' to murder or harm me in any way possible. I doubt he's capable of doing that.'
'Or maybe he can,' a part of him refuted.
Marco heaved a sigh and quietly whispered to himself, "Well, it's too late to turn back now."
The door made a creaking sound as the elder pushed it open. The old man immediately paused when he saw the inside, a vein ostensibly popping out of his forehead.
"Ugh, those idiots didn't clean up," Marco heard the stranger muttering whilst gritting his teeth, so he craned his neck from the old man's back, only to see a messy room.
'This place is like a junkyard.'
"Don't mind the mess," the stranger said as he turned to the mentally dismayed young lad.
'Too late. I'm already mindin' it, sir,' Marco subconsciously thought.
The place can actually pass off as a real junkyard with all the scraps of metals and tools scattered around the room. Several boxes are lying around the corner of the room. Cans of sodas and plastic wrappers were also strewn all over the floor. The most astounding detail was the coffee mugs placed in different areas; on top of a cardboard box, on the floor, on a shelf, and in a toolbox.
'The randomness is kind of weird, I may say.'
Marco paid more attention to the little details before his eyes laid on the largest display in the room.
A car was at the center of the room with some parts missing. It's probably under repair based on its current condition. There's also a motorbike near the ramp-up, a wheel missing, and just like the car, it's obviously also under repair. Piles of tires were prompt beside the motorbike, and a skateboard was leaning on it.
Marco took in the sight of the room and could only sigh in his heart.
'Yep, I'm totally not minding the mess, sir.'
"So, uhm…" Marco hesitated to say what had been hovering on his mind and went on rubbing his nape.
'I don't know what to say. I might offend the old man if I asked,' he thought, but he still asked anyway.
"Sir, ye sure this is the place you want me to sleep in?" he asked, knowing how indecorous that sounded. Even if he rummages through his brain several times, he couldn't find a better way to phrase it.
'Although the place was messy, this is actually better to spend the night with than the cold hard street.'
The stranger just huffed at him before turning towards the staircase. "Come, follow me."
They climbed the stairs and got up to the second floor. It was neater than the area downstairs. The hallway was clean of trash, and the walls were void of scrapes; it was spotless.
The old man led Marco to a specific room at the farthest left side wing. He opened the door and asked the young lad to come inside.
"I'm lending you this room for tonight, kid. It's my room, and this is the tidiest among any rooms here. The other rooms were most probably, passed by several storms or damn hurricanes." The elder grimaced at his latter description.
"Anyway, I'll get going now. My daughter's all alone in our house."
Marco placed a hand on his chest and lightly nodded, showing courtesy, "Thank you for letting me barge in for tonight, sir."
'If it were not for him, I don't know where the hell I'll be right now. Well, probably sleeping on one of the tables at the store earlier.'
The old man grunted a gruffed acknowledgment and commanded in his rough voice, "Oh, stop calling me 'Sir,' kid. Just call me Charles."
"Thank you, Mr. Charles." Marco received a glare from him, so he tried to correct himself, "Charles… Uh, right. Thank you, Charles."
Charles adjusted his ragged cap, messing up his already untidy blonde-brown hair even more. He patted the house's night invader on the shoulder and gave an uninterested nod before he went out of the room.
Out of courtesy, Marco saw him out until at the exit, which was the door they used to enter the building.
"Night, kid," old man Charles said, bidding farewell to the youngster. He waved his hand while walking toward his car, not even bothering to face the person he was bidding farewell to.
Halfway through his track, he slightly turned and gave a reminder, "By the way, don't break anything, and ready your ears when you wake up."
Marco remained by the door, watching the elder drive away until he couldn't see the silhouette of the moving car. It was as if swallowed by the distance and darkness. He waited until it was out of sight before finally closing the door and facing the disarrayed room.
The night invader heaved a sigh, then muttered under his breath, "Old man Charles gave me a place to stay in, so I might as well clean this mess to repay his kindness."
---
Marco pinched the bridge of his pointed nose after absorbing the information in his brain. He sighed and leaned back on the bed's headboard.
'Right, I am at Mr. Charles' place. That explains why the mattress of the bed feels different. It was because "it is" different than what I had in my room.'
The young lad heaved a sigh and rested his aching body. He silently wished that it won't get any worse than how it already is.
***
[1] "Tapadh leibh" is the Scottish Gaelic of "Thank you".
Tapadh leibh = thank you to someone older, more senior, or a group of people.