Character: Mr. Smith / Kurdy
Word Count: 483
Disclaimer: of course, I don't own Jeremiah nor the characters - just borrowing them for a while
written for fffc - challenge 15.26 - At Sea
It had been a long, hot day; endless, tiresome discussions with the leader of the small village and finally it had ended without a proper result. All Kurdy wanted now was to return to Thunder Mountain quickly, where a cold shower and a nice dinner awaited him.
He looked around for his partner, Smith, who already had left the old summerhouse some time ago. When he finally spotted him at the shore of the nearby lake, Kurdy frowned. This was strange, usually Smith refused to get near to a lake, no matter how small it was and Kurdy had felt his tension all over the day. Smith hated it to be here and for sure he would have refused to go with him this time if not Jeremiah had had this accident with the jeep only two days ago. Erin had insisted that it was irresponsible to let him go to the meeting today, so Smith had finally given in.
When Kurdy had almost reached him he noticed the absent glance in Smith's eyes and groaned silently. He liked the little guy, who had saved his life twice during the last months, but his strange predictions and prophecies would always give him the creeps. All too often they turned out to be dreadful truth.
"Anything I need to know," he asked.
The smile on Smith's lips deepened which was even more disturbing.
"Don't worry," he said and his voice was surprisingly calm.
"It's different this time ... I think I know this place.”
Kurdy eyed him suspiciously.
“I can see a young woman,” Smith continued.
“She's sitting on a blanket, reading a book. Her two little kids are playing in the water, a boy and a girl, she's older than him, they laugh and play with a ball."
Before Kurdy could wonder what he was talking about Smith turned back to the lake, let his eyes wander over the water.
"The boy ... I guess, it's me. A summer together with my family.”
Kurdy huffed slightly.
"Is this one of the stories you tell in the cafeteria at the Mountain," he asked.
Probably he was the only one who knew the truth. Smith had no history, at least he couldn't remember one. His life started off after the Big Death, on the day when God decided to choose him as his messenger.
Smith shrugged slightly.
"I don't know," he admitted.
"God says it's necessary to leave my past behind … but sometimes he is merciful. He sends me pictures, makes me believe that I have had a family, parents, a sister … She is beautiful … and smart … she says that … she loves me ... "
The voice faded away, the smile on Smith's face disappeared, he cringed visibly and shied away from the dark water of the lake.
“Let's go home,” he murmured.
“It's getting cold.”