《The Garbage Man》Chapter Seven
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Jun obediently followed her uncle through the house, with the not-quite-an-imbecile towering over her as he walked beside her. She hadn't noticed before just how tall he was, but she only came up to his shoulder which meant he was a few inches taller than her uncle. And he was considered tall for her people!
Clearing her head, she saw that even the short walk down the passage was extremely tiring for him, judging by his reddening complexion and the sweat starting to bead his brow. Maybe some fresh air would do him good? Which was fortunate as their destination was the small courtyard around which her uncle's house was built.
He was struggling. He hadn't really done much activity besides the short stints of moving around the room he was in, and had thought that his strength had mostly returned. He actually felt great! Or he had, until simply walking down a short passage at the pace being set by the old man left him feeling like he'd run a mile. A few more minutes of this and he'd be gasping for air.
Before he reached such dire straits, the old man had led him down a flight of stairs and out the door into a courtyard, where the old man gestured him to a bench where he gratefully seated himself.
He nearly crapped himself when a lizard the size of a cat scooted out from under the bench and headed up the opposite wall! They really were everywhere!
The young lady briefly left the courtyard while the old man just stood there looking him over, returning with a small wooden mug of cold water which she offered to him. In no position to be polite he took the mug and gulped it down, returning it to her with a tired nod of gratitude.
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Once he'd had a few moments to regain his breath and his dignity, the old man approached him and started examining him with the steely grip he'd shown when they'd first met. Turning his head this way and that, pulling his eyelids back. This time he lifted Jack's arms, turning them over and probing at the muscles in his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders. His legs weren't spared either, with more of the prodding and poking.
There was an almost palpable sense of confusion emanating from the old man as he stood up from his examination. "Right, since I doubt I'll be learning your name any time soon, I'm going to call you Confusius from now on". A hint of a smile flittered over Jack's face at the thought, while the old man walked the length of the courtyard, about 20 paces.
"He looks a bit weak, all bulk with no real strength", the old man thought to himself as he turned around to face his patient. "But even a child wouldn't struggle to walk from the room to here as much as he has".
It was as if his Shēnghuó had been completely drained, but how? If that had been the case, he would be dead, yet there he sat. His Shēnghuó was still barely a flicker, but at least it was there. Which was also a mystery - it was as if the boy's Shēnghuó was starved?
He clapped his hands to get the youth's attention before saying, "Come" gesturing to the youth to walk towards him. In order to make sense of the boy's condition he would have to test him as best he could within the tolerance of his condition.
The simple walk was clearly almost too much for the already exhausted boy, as he came to a standstill. He stroked his goatee as he thought, then walked over and picked up a padded pole with two sand filled buckets he used as weights for his own warmup. He walked back to the boy and handed him the makeshift weight.
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Or tried to, as the youth took the pole in both hands and promptly crashed to his knees! "So weak!", he thought, amazed that even such a light load was too much for the boy to bear. And he clearly wasn't faking it.
Jack sat on his knees, staring dumbfoundedly at the "weight" that Confusius has passed him so casually. "It's two small buckets. On a wooden pole. What the hell was the sand made of for it to be so god damned heavy?" he raged internally.
He was still staring at this fiendish contraption that had quite literally brought him to his knees when he felt a pair of hands taking him by the arms and pulling him up to standing. A pair of small hands. Confusius was still standing in front of him, which meant that the hands that had pulled him up so effortlessly was... He turned around and confirmed his worst fears.
He, a man that weighed 160 pounds in his briefs, had been almost lifted back on to his feet by a girl that looked like she wouldn't break 100 pounds on a scale! Were these monsters in human skins?
Confusius said a few words to the girl before striding off. "Girl? Maybe this is Westworld and these people are actually Cyborgs? It would certainly explain a few things. At least, it would if I was too stupid to distinguish reality from a TV show..." his inner monologue went off at a tangent as he was still catching his breath.
He hastilty said "No need" as it became clear that the girl was about to offer him a shoulder to lean on, despite being half his size. He may not have been a “jock”, but he would still cling to what little pride he currently had! The girl shrugged with a faint smile as if she could read his teenage mind, before turning and gesturing for him to follow.
Back in "his" room - "It's not really my room though, is it? I'm just a guest, an odd patient to these people" - Jack just about managed to maintain his dignity by not collapsing onto the bed before the girl had left.
After a few minutes, he barely had the strength to pour some water and eat one of the mystery fruit pieces. He couldn't understand it. His body felt fine but his exhaustion told a different story. But the way the old man manhandled him during his examinations and the way the waif of a girl had lifted him also left their own questions and speculations running around his mind. "I want to wake up now" was the last thought he had before falling asleep again, even though it was still mid morning
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