Fandom: Jeremiah (TV)
Character: Kurdy Malloy, Mr. Smith, Rose Smith
Word Count: 1072
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Jeremiah nor the character :( - I'm just borrowing them for a while
Smith watched his little daughter thoughtfully; for the whole day, she had been unusually quiet and serious as if she could sense the tension in the air. Since this incident in St. Louis and the loss of some very close confidants, it seemed as if the life in the Mountain almost had stopped.
Smith had tried to play down his sorrows; the time he could spend with Rose was rare and valuable but the little girl was much too sensitive.
"Where is Mr. Kurdy," she suddenly asked.
Smith kept silent, thinking about his friend and about Elizabeth. Kurdy was not a guy who talked much about his feelings, but Smith had known, who much the young woman had meant for him. A wonderful woman, caring, gentle, but determined when it was necessary. Despite all she had to go through she had never given up hope that one day the world would be a better one again. This hope finally had been her death.
Since then Kurdy had changed; he had buried her all alone and then locked up himself in his quarter, refusing to talk to anyone. He had even yelled at Markus, and Smith was for sure the last one he wanted to see.
"Why didn't you warn her," he had asked him, his eyes dark with anger.
"You are the prophet who knows what will happen. Why couldn't you save her?"
A question Smith couldn't answer; he wasn't God's messenger by choice. The information he got were mostly cryptic and hard to understand and sometimes God decided to keep quiet and just to let it happen. And there was nothing he could do against it.
He tried to shook his thoughts off; this was Rose's time and he didn't want to ruin it for her.
„Mr. Kurdy can't play with you this weekend,“ he answered.
„He needs some time for himself. But we could go to Michelle for a while, would you like that?“
Michelle had told her stories from the old world, as ever, but today it was just half the fun. Rose couldn't get rid of the words in her mind.
„Go and find him,“ the voice had told her.
„He might need your help.“
Though she wasn't living in the Mountain she knew the ways around there. It wasn't difficult to find the way to the quarters; the door with two names on it: Kurdy Malloy. Jeremiah Johnson. She hesitated a moment before she pulled it open.
The room was only small; a bunk bed, a chair, a table and two old chests. The light was dim because the neon lamp on the ceiling was turned off. The air was sticky, it smelled of sweat and booze. Kurdy was lying on his bed, panting hard, a half filled bottle in his hands.
Rose licked her lips; she knew Kurdy for so long now; he was a nice guy, always laughing, playing with her, and often he had some candies in his pockets. This guy on the bed, though, was a stranger and he somehow scared her. For a moment she thought about it to turn around and run away. But then the voice was back again.
„He needs you, Rose!“
And she knew what she had to do.
„Mr. Kurdy,“ she whispered.
He virtually jumped up, stared at her with wide open eyes; Rose stiffened when she noticed a big knife in his hand.
„What the hell,“ he yelled.
„Leave me the fuck alone.“
Only then he seemed to recognize her, he squeezed his eyes shut, his hand started to tremble and the knife dropped down onto the floor with a loud bump.
„Rose,“ he whispered.
„What are you doing here?“
She sucked in the air before answering.
„He's told me to come.“
Kurdy narrowed his eyes.
She shook her head.
„The voice. Sometimes he talks with me. But don't tell my Dad, he always gets sad when this happens.“
For a while Kurdy kept silent.
„Get it,“ he finally answered in a tired voice.
He dropped back onto his bed, closed his eyes again, hoping that she would realize that all he wanted was to be left alone.
But she stepped closer, put a small hand onto his big one.
„He says, it is necessary to make sacrifices because we are not ready for the new world yet.“
Again Kurdy felt rage seething up; he clenched his fists, he wanted to kill … kill … kill. Destroy the world because a world without Elizabeth had lost every significance. It was only a split of the second, then he did remember: Rose! She did nothing wrong. She and all the other children in the world deserved a chance to live.
When he started to tremble he felt her fingers stroking over his sweaty forehead.
„It's okay,“ she whispered.
„Maybe you should tell me about her.“
„About her,“ Kurdy repeated though he actually knew from whom she was talking.
„Elizabeth,“ Rose answered and her name alone made him cringe again.
„I know, she died. My mom died, too, you know, when I was a baby. But Sister Hannah says she's still here, as long as we are talking about her. And she will always be a part of my life.“
It was so easy, Kurdy thought bitterly, when you still were a child. So innocent, still full of hope. But he knew better, he had seen too much, had done too much. He knew, Elizabeth was buried deep in the dark earth and nothing could bring her back. Never again he would touch her hair, wild brown curls, falling on her shoulders. He would never hear her soft voice singing again, or her laughter. She was gone forever and she had taken everything with her what had been good in his world.
Tears were running over his face, Rose gently wiped them away and when he slowly calmed down again his thoughts started to drift off.
„She loved these little glass figurines, had a whole collection of them in her room. I remember the day I gave her the first one. It was a little dog, with a much too big bow. Somehow rediculous.“
He chuckled slightly.
„But when she unwrapped the small box her eyes were outsparkling the sun which fell onto the dog and let him twinkle in all kinds of colors ...“