A Day in a Life in After World: Brach

by Eric Johnson

and poured out onto the table and dripped onto the floor.

  Several colorful curse words were released as he went to catch what he could. Now the first guy started laughing. His own bowl suddenly turned on him and would have nearly poured in his lap had he not jumped up so quickly.

  From in the market place Brach could hear a watchman’s whistle. He figured there was enough of a ruckus to bring in the guard.

  Good. It will serve them right for the way they treated Jesh. He thought to himself.

  With that, he got up and walked out of the diner. He spotted a couple of things as he did. The girl across the way was gone and the watchmen were running down an alley near where she had been, not into the restaurant.

  Brach shrugged and made his way over to Jesh.

  “What’s going on?” He asked as he arrived.

  Jesh and Franz had been talking and she had not seen him arrive. She turned her attention over to Brach.

  “You have missed all the excitement today!” She exclaimed. “This time there were a couple of mice that broke out into a knife fight. It took the watch to break them up. Officer Really was over here when it broke out and he went running with his whistle blaring.”

  “Really?” Brach asked.

  “Yes, real…” Jesh stopped and then smirked at him. “Your piece is ready.”

  She held out his knife fitted perfectly into the sheath.

  He took it from her and admired the work. Not only was the tie in the correct place now, but the sheath fit the blade in such a way it locked it into place. He opened his belt and looped the sheath on and tied the bottom of the sheath around his leg. It was a light rig but sturdy.

  “I love it!” Brach told the tinkerer. “I will take it.”

  “Check the blade.” She urged.

  Brach pulled on the knife and he felt a slight give as the sheath released it. The blade was immaculate. She had not just sharpened it, but polished it as well. It shone brightly in the sun. He could see his own elongated reflection in the blade.

  “Amazing!” He told her. “What do I owe you for all of this?”

  She told him and it was a little steep, but he would make change later. He paid her out of his change, not the gold coin. He would not think of pulling that on her.

  “Listen, I was thinking…”He started to say to her but then noticed she was with another customer.

  He held on to his courage and waited a few more minutes, but the customer kept asking inane questions and getting Jesh side tracked. He finally gave up and went back to his bench to people watch some more.

  After a bit Brach spotted a well off gentleman come into the market place. He was accompanied by several traders. They stopped to talk near one of the planters. That was when Brach spotted it. The gentleman had a felt bag looped onto his belt. It looked like a pretty simple knot and Brach started concentrating on it immediately.

  Just as the gentleman started walking away, the coin purse fell into the planter. Brach could not believe his luck.

  Brach took a couple of steps towards it then stopped himself. He could be patient. No one else saw it.

  He started to stroll towards the planter when he saw someone come out of the nearby alley. It was a very small person, maybe a boy of about 12 years old. He was moving cautiously at first, looking back and forth and then with some relief he came fully into the market place. Then he walked over to the planter, the planter with the purse Brach was in the process of stealing.

  Brach picked up his pace and started charging over towards the small thief. The thief was not even paying attention; he was looking back towards the alley and waving at someone to come to him, probably a partner thief also after Brach’s money.

  Then from the alley emerged the most beautiful sight he had ever laid his eyes on. It was the girl, HIS girl he had been watching earlier, but she changed. Her dress was elegant and shiny. Her hair was different too. Normally long and flowing, she had it up in a bun at the back of her head with a small tail of hair sticking out of the top of it and blowing lightly in the afternoon breeze.

  Brach stepped up next to the boy at the planter but the boy and the purloined purse were both forgotten.

  “What a beauty!” Brach said.

  “Ain’t she though, master?” Mice always took a very polite tone on the rare occasions they spoke to others outside their race. It tends to keep them alive longer.

  Brach glanced down at the boy then back at the girl. They were similar in size but the girl looked much more mature than him. Maybe she was a dwarf or something?

  He looked back to the girl and admired her as she approached.

  “Hey? What’s this?” The small voice said beside him.

  The boy was holding the purse in his hand and was looking it over. Brach,looking down at the boy, froze not knowing what to do. Confrontation was not his strong suit. The boy looked up at him and seemed to halt for a moment.

  The boy then shook the bag, felt the contents, and then broke into a run back towards the same alley.

  “Come on Sugar!” He shouted as he ran.

  Brach took half a step to go after the boy but found the beautiful girl in his way. She looked confused.

  She looked up at Brach and he was captivated by her eyes. The purse was forgotten again.

  The girl turned quickly away and started to run after the boy but Brach’s hand shot out automatically and grabbed her by the arm. His fingers easily encircled her entire upper arm.

  “Let go of me!” She pleaded with him. “I didn’t do anything!”

  He looked at her and looked at his hand. He loosened his grip a little to keep from squeezing her.

  “Don’t go?” He said in a small, almost sad voice as he then completely released her.

  She pulled her arm away and took two steps back to gain her balance.

  She started to go retreat to the alley so Brach tried again, “Wait!”

  She stopped and turned back, an unprecedented move among mice.

  “Do you want to get some dinner?” There, he said it. He was not sure where that came from, but it came out and he felt a huge weight lifted from him.

  “What? Like you buy me some food sir?” She asked not trusting the situation.

  “Yeah,” he replied, “like that. But we eat together.”

  She looked down the alley and could see Hash sticking out of the target hole in the wall frantically waving at her. She looked back at Brach. He looked harmless except for the knife hanging from his belt, but that looked more utilitarian than a weapon.

  “What kind of food?” She asked slowly.

  “Something better than that diner across the street.” He stated pointing back at where he had eaten earlier. “That place gets rowdy.”

  Sugar looked at the diner and realized if she ate there then it would be the nicest place she had ever eaten, and he wanted to take her somewhere better.

  “Yes!” she finally said. “I’m Sugar!”

  She closed the space between them and held out her hand.

  “Great!” He said. “And you can call me Brach.”

  Pleased to meet you Master Brach.” She said as he took her hand.

  “Just Brach.” He said, but he kind of liked the sound of Master Brach.

  He did a mental count of how much money he should have. He mourned the loss of the purse for only a moment before realizing he got the better treasure. He decided he could afford to take her out in style. They would be visiting Jillian’s over near Sister St. Euila’s church. She would like that.

  She took ahold of his arm when offered and allowed herself to be led away. She looked back at Hash. He had come up to the entrance of the alley and was just standing watching her in disbelief.

  He’ll get over it, she decided.

  About the AUthor

  “What if?”

  Eric Johnson would die without this question.

  One can, and should, contemplate this question whe
n one is slaved to the phone lines doling out the Golden Rule of the Windows operating system, "Have you rebooted your computer yet?" With this and a handful of progressive questions, he is the deserving title-holder of HERO forty to fifty times a day as he resolves end-user issues. And yet, this is not enough for one man.

  When he escapes the clutches of the forty-hour paradigm...

  ...he gives himself over to family. A father for five years and a husband for approximately forever, he expresses his love for them through nearly-gourmet cooking, wisdom dispensing, and in fits and starts, domicile upkeep.

  ...he gives himself over to exploration. A veteran of war (dialing), virtual and real photography dark rooms, and bike rides to Hades and back, he has always been a geek. He can easily be lured into conversations about physics, space travel, science fantasy, and occasionally, computers.

  ...he gives himself over to reading. Books consumed are too numerous to store in any one place, much less catalogue. He still believes in the magic of the printed word, but does possess compassion for the e-reader. He has read the internet…twice. He is an ardent supporter of the mythos that Playboy magazine does have articles. He is willing to read words in any medium, from clay tablets to Fark to fortune cookies (in bed).

  …he gives himself over to writing.

  Eric will want his readers to know that he is not perfect for he has still not cured cancer. Instead, he invites the reader to join him in the adventure of, “What if?”