The Traveling Cobbler

The planet was inundated with meteors of varying sizes, rocking the small blue dot in this young solar system. Nearly half of the entire population was wiped out in the initial disaster, the lucky ones. Almost seventy percent of the remaining humans died off in the following years through suffocation and starvation. While only a quarter of the planet sustained massive impacts the whole thing was now flooded. In between shores, the majority of the barren land was just as dangerous as the ocean. This left the world in shambles. You now had to adapt or die and Neile McGrath had evolved.

The coastal city was the best this area had to offer. There were smaller villages and outposts along the coast, but Neile, dressed in his lucky green jacket, needed to do some selling. He was a cobbler by trade and had a few pairs of shoes. The bigger the population the easier it was to unload his fine wares. After clearing the checkpoint and entering the town Neile found his way to the square. He quickly located the first person selling stuff out in the open and stopped.

“How are you doing today?”

“Pretty good. What can I help you with? I have bottled water but no food. Shotgun shells, nine millimeters, and a few machetes left. I also have this random stuff.” The merchant motioned to the shelf and table. “I take gold, silver, food, water, and weapons.”

“I have a few of those things, but I am really looking to offload some shoes I made.”

“I can take a look, but no promises.”

Out of his main backpack came a sturdy pair of leather work boots. They were practical and boring, but they were hard to come by. This piqued the merchant's interest and he placed six bottles of water next to the shoes. After taking a look at his customer's face the man pulled out a drawer, looked over two watches, grabbed the silver one …

“Hey, what about the gold one?” Neile pointed at the still open little box.

“This silver one is the better of the two. All of the diamonds are real, even the bigger ones around the face.”

“The gold one is more my style, actually.”

The merchant thought about the switch, a struggle appeared on his face before he swapped the watches and closed the drawer.

“It was my father's.”

“He had exquisite taste. I will treat it like the treasure it is.”

“It's comforting to know it is going to someone who will appreciate it. Can I get you anything else?”

“Just some information, if you can?”

“Will certainly try, my good sir.”

“Do you know where I can get some produce, and maybe sell another pair of shoes?”

“If it's a similar pair I can offer you more!” The merchant said excitedly.

“No,” Neile dashed the man's hope, “no, it's a pair for a girl, size 5, and a pair of fancy men's shoes, unless you would be interested.”

“What size?”

“They are tens, like the boots. I have them right here.” Neile grabbed them from a bag on his hip and placed them on the counter.

The heels, thick with rubber, appeared first and immediately started the lavish feel of the shoes. A gray and delicate material came into view that covered the whole pair. From heel to tip the footwear was a light gray and had embroidery out of silver down both sides and around each end. The laces were a similar gray with silver eyelets and the tongue was almost like silk with how soft the material felt. Neile put them on the table and smiled.

“I can't afford those.” The merchant's grin disappeared, “You’re looking for either Myrtle, who is in this shop behind us, or Virgil, he stays in the shop across the square. She mainly does clothes and baked goods. Best damn cookies I ever had. And he has produce, some meat, clothes, and ammunition.”

“I might have to stop by both. Meat and baked goods sound great. Thanks for the heads up.” Neile McGrath grabbed his shoes, turned around, put them in his bag, and walked towards Virgil's shack.

He passed another vendor with a head bow and smile before rounding the dilapidated fence. The small structure was in the same state as the fence and the front door, and windows, were wide open. There was a sign propped up outside the door made of wood and blaring ‘ENTER’ out into the square. Neile followed the instructions and walked inside. Virgil kept a clean shack. Neile immediately noticed the older gentleman rocking in a chair.

“Welcome to my shop. I have a bit of everything. Meat and produce for the body; clothes and weapons to protect that body.”

“What kind of meat and produce do you have?”

“Always chicken, but have some pig left. Chard, beans, tomatoes, cucumbers, corn, and watermelon.” The man answered as he rocked in a brown cowboy hat, overalls, a blanket failing to hide the shotgun underneath it, and mud caked boots.

“Do you accept trade?”

“Depends on the item.”

“I have these.” Neile pulled out the gray shoes with the velvety feel and placed them on the man's lap as he neared the chair.

“Well I'll be! Those are some fine shoes. I am not sure I know anyone that would want them, though.”

“That's fine.” Neile reached for the shoes. “I hope Myrtle is interested.”

“That good for nothing woman wouldn't know a good deal if it walked in her hole.” The older man went for the shoes again, missing the smile on Neile’s face.

“I am interested in some pork, beans, corn, tomatoes, cucumbers, and some ammo for a .45.”

“You wantin’ a pound of each?” Virgil asked incredulously.

“No … no, of course not. Just a cup of each, if possible.”

“You looking to make up the rest in ammo?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can offer you two boxes of one hundred for the shoes. Not a bullet more.”

“That will definitely work, thank you, sir.”

“Give me about ten minutes to get everything.” Virgil got up and placed the weapon on the chair before turning to look at Neile. “Is the deal done? I would like to put the shoes up.”

“Yes, of course.” Neile stood still, offering only a smile.

Virgil disappeared into the back room and shut the door. Now, Neile could freely look at the knick knacks around the store, hoping to find another piece to feed his addiction. The medium sized room was packed with racks of clothes on one side, belts, gloves, and hats piled on top of them while the opposite wall had an aisle of weapons at the front with each subsequent aisle being random. In the back right corner were two glass cases full of jewelry and random gilded items of worth.

Neile perused the random aisles and found nothing of interest. He walked towards the cases in the corner and his eyes fell on something made of wood, buried under a plethora of boxes.

“You still here?”

“Over here.” Neile answered as he stepped into view.

Virgil walked over to a table hidden by the cases and placed the three bags on it.

“Find something you like?”

“Maybe. Depends on the overall quality of the piece. I can show you which I mean.”

“Fine, fine, but no more shoes. I have every other kind of shoe, but that pair you sold me is different indeed.”

“Thank you. Did I mention I made them myself?”

“I don't believe you did, but that is fantastic. You are a master at your craft, sir.”

“I only use the best of materials.”

“I noticed.” Virgil ended with a chuckle then started opening the bags. “Here we got the ammo. In this one you got the pig butt, tomatoes, cucumbers, and I threw in some sausage I made myself.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And lastly we have the beans and corn. What did you have your eye on?”

“In this glass case there is something possibly intriguing buried under boxes of varying materials.”

“If you are talking about the cherry wood jewelry box, I know you are going to love it.”

The duo, led by Virgil, walked around the corner, less than six feet, and arrived at the crowded glass case. Virgil put his finger on the glass and pointed towards the piece of wood Neile had his eye on.

“A jewelry box, you say?”

“Yes, yes, and very old. It still works.”

“Works?”

“Oh yes. There is a ballerina and a tune.”

“Oh my, that sounds fantastic.”

Virgil retrieved a key chain from his pocket and unlocked the case. After moving quite a few things the six by six by six inch box, made of cherry wood appeared. It was completely void of decoration, just a beautiful finish, and there appeared to be no seam. Virgil grabbed the tiny cube and opened it in front of Neile, who smiled with glee.

The ballerina slowly rose inside the shadows sitting under the lid, but once completely open the light lit the small figurine made of solid ivory and she began to dance. A melodic stream of metallic strings washed over the gentlemen and caused them both to smile.

“That is a nice piece.”

“If it was any of the boxes I moved I would have just given it to you, but this is a special item. And should have been in the back.”

“What about ten silver coins?”

“Sold!” Virgil exclaimed then began to chuckle.

“Perfect.” Neile said as he opened a different bag and pulled out the required coins, much to Virgil's delight, and grabbed the box and put it in his backpack.

“You sure are loaded down. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes sir!” Neile replied as he stood his scraggly frame to its six foot five height. “Thanks for this,” he started grabbing the bags of his purchase, “but I have another pair of shoes to move.”

“Well, have fun in Myrtle's hole. Tell her I said to die.” And with that Virgil disappeared behind a mountain of stuff.

Neile walked back out into the heat, now missing the small but breezy store, and headed back across the square. Hanging in the window of the building on the corner of the square was a sign that read ‘Myrtle's Hole in the Wall’. It was the largest building on this side of the square and even had a second story. Neile continued his stroll inside and was immediately greeted.

“Welcome to ‘Myrtle's’. I am Myrtle. How can I help you today?” A rotund woman with scraggly hair appeared and almost sang her welcome.

“Hello, Myrtle. I am Neile McGrath and I am looking to sell a cute pair of girl's shoes.”

“Shoes? Girl shoes?” Myrtle asked with a quizzical look before straightening up and adding, “I would love to take a look.” Then she led him to the counter in the middle of a room that was more than five times the size of Virgil's. It had shelves that stood over six feet tall and everything seemed to have a place. In one corner there were racks of clothes like at Virgil's, but it was organized and clean. She had a lot of stuff, but knew how to stage it.

At the table Neile grabbed his backpack once again and pulled out a pair of royal blue shoes. These shoes had a large butterfly covering the tips and the top of the shoe, leaving the eyelets exposed, which were silver. The butterfly was outlined by shiny pearls as well as the sole. He placed them on the wooden surface and Myrtle danced in place as she gazed over the small things.

“Yes.” Myrtle tried to keep back a laugh, but failed and exploded into a fit of the giggles. “If you know my name, you know about my baking, right?”

“Yes ma'am. Although, Virgil didn't have a nice word to say about you … never mind the baking.”

“Oooh, that man has been mad at me for the past forty seven years. I bet he told me to die, didn't he?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“You know, he is mad that I broke up with him and moved away with my family.”

“Really? That is intriguing.”

“Sorry to bore you with ancient history, dear.” Myrtle put a hand on the shoes. “I can trade for this. What would you like?”

“You have fresh blueberries?”

“I don't have blue, but I do have blackberries.”

“You have a blackberry pie?”

“I have that and an apple pie.”

“Sounds good. You mind if I look around?”

“Not at all.”

“Thanks.” Neile said before turning to his left towards a line of glass cases originally hidden by the racks.

He slowly walked up to the case, which held very random items, and closed his eyes. When he opened them he was staring at a cup made of red and white plastic. Sticking out of the top were random sized and colored coins. He knew there was the perfect coin in there for him, but he needed access. Like a silent bell rang Myrtle was there.

“Find something you like?” The plump woman dug in her pockets, found her key, and opened the case.

Neile smiled and nodded a thank you as he reached forward, grabbed the flimsy cup, and poured the coins into his open hand. He thumbed through them for a few long seconds and finally stopped on a smooth edged coin that didn't feel similar to the others. He pushed one side of the coins over and exposed the face of the different coin. A faded caricature of a rat head came into view and when it was moved to show the back it just said ‘GAME OVER’. After picking the unique coin out he dropped the rest back into the cup. He looked at the coin in the artificial light coming from above and smiled his biggest grin.

“How about this?”

“A blackberry pie and a coin for the shoes? That seems …”

“No, no, my dear Myrtle. I merely wish to add it, if I may.”

“Sure,” She reached out her hand and replied after Neile placed the coin in her open palm, “I will place it next to the shoes.”

With the case still open he went back to looking around. Nothing really looked appetizing to the man, but he knew he needed to find something. That's when his eyes fell on a very decorative knife. It was propped up in its own glass case and appeared to be made with an abundance of gold. There were also jewels of different sizes and colors lined intricately on either side of the sheath and handle. It wasn't as nice as the coin, but there was more there. He picked up the fragile case and walked it over to the table. Myrtle smiled as he approached.

“That's a beautiful piece, isn't it.”

“I am inclined to agree. What do you think?”

“Straight trade? I don't know about that.”

“How about one pure silver coin?”

“Pure? How big?”

Instead of verbally responding, Neile went into his side pack and pulled out a coin with no imprint or engraving on either side. He handed one to Myrtle, who started looking it over, even pulling a mineral tester out. When it came back a solid silver Myrtle set down the tester and her face changed to one of determination with a squared jaw and focused eyes.

“Five.”

“Two.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“How about we go two?”

Neile pulled out one more coin and placed it on the table. Myrtle immediately snatched it up and hurried away without a word. She quickly returned with a cardboard box which she showed contained the pie. She placed the package on the table and slid it to him. He put the coin in his front breast pocket, the ornate knife and case in a side bag, and picked up the pie with his hands.

“This was a pleasure, Myrtle.”

“Likewise, Mr. McGrath.”

Back out into the heat of the day Neile walked around the city for a few hours. When the sun began to set he found himself on the outskirts of the small town. The houses were far apart and separated by thick woods. A few houses passed by before Neile found the right one. He walked up the trail that led to the front door and started counting rocks. The ninth one seemed out of place and ended up containing the key.

Once inside the newly locked door he started removing bags and packs, being careful the pie was undisturbed. With the stuff finally off he found one bag in particular and pulled it to him. As he sat on the stool and dumped the items of the bag onto the counter a cooking pot came barreling out with a thud and then a strange jingle.

“How did gold get in there?” Neile asked as he poured the nuggets onto the table and grabbed for a hefty, but small bag still on his hip. A quick deposit later and Neile started dinner. As he cut the vegetables and meat up a metallic click echoed through the house. “Right on time.”

“Who's there? Who is in my house?” A disgruntled voice bounced into the kitchen.

“I mean you no harm. And I am in the kitchen.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Neile McGrath. Are you Oscar Weber?”

“Yes Neile, I am … why are you in my house?”

“I needed a safe place to eat my dinner.”

“The lodge has rooms available.”

“I require a quieter setting.”

“Get out of my house!” Oscar screamed as he came into view wielding a knife.

Neile calmly put down the large wooden spoon and grabbed something on his other hip. The silver plated Colt revolver slowly emerged from the shadows. The man stopped his advancing abruptly and almost fell, catching himself on the counter.

“While I mean you no harm I will protect myself. Now please sit at the table.”

Oscar dropped the knife and walked to the table. As he sat down Neile holstered his weapon and picked up a rope that stuck out of a bag. After approaching the man, Neile began wrapping the rope around the hostage.

“I have a meal to finish, so if you don't mind, I will go back to cooking. Feel free to talk, I enjoy a good conversation.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I already told you.” Neile politely said as he continued to cook.

Oscar didn't say another word, despite Neile trying to make small talk. A few minutes passed and Neile came back into the Oscar's view. He wore a warm smile and carried a full plate in one hand and his backpack in the other. He placed the dish in front of the man, unwrapped the rope over his arms, and took a seat opposite of him.

“Feel free to dig in.” Neile said as he pulled the watch out of the bag. Oscar refused to eat until Neile placed the revolver on the table. “Everything was bought fresh in town today. I do hope you enjoy.”

Oscar reluctantly picked up the fork from the plate and started eating. The food was exceptional and he started shoveling the side dishes and sausage into his mouth. Neile held a smile as he watched the man consume his meal with gusto. Then Neile decided it was his turn to eat, so he looked at the watch in his hands. He examined it as closely as he could before placing it on the table in front of him. Putting his hands on either side of the watch he closed his eyes and started muttering something under his breath.

After whispering the last syllable Neile’s eyes immediately started to emit a pale green light. The watch began to glow and was lifted off the table by some kind of magic. Neile’s body jerked around before he slumped into his chair. Oscar stared at his captor as he hunched over in the chair. He noticed something peculiar happening to the watch. It was slowly dissolving in the air, leaving no trace of its existence. When the watch was gone Neile’s eyes stopped glowing and he was able to sit back up.

“What was that?” The man screamed.

“Don't worry. I was merely eating.” Neile replied as he retrieved the simple but elegant jewelry box and placed it in front of him.

“You … you eat metal and wood?” Oscar asked.

“Of course not. I consume the memory attached to the item and that destroys it.”

“The memory? What are you talking about?”

“Some items retain special moments. The watch, for example, had a strong lingering memory of a time and place before the meteors hit. It was a bittersweet memory of a father gifting his son a watch over dinner. The father was dying and wanted to share a family heirloom with his son. They were both proud of the other, for different reasons of course, but the relationship had been rocky for a few years. A sadness hung in the air that was palpable, but neither addressed it. Then they said their goodbyes and the memory ended.

“What are you?”

“A different breed. Now finish your meal as I do the same.”

Oscar did as he was told while Neile started to mutter under his breath again. The pristine wooden box started to rise once the pale green color returned to his eyes. The entire process was over in seconds and Neile was back to his proper posture. He pulled out the coin next and placed it on the table.

“That memory was delicious. Not bittersweet like the first. It was a Christmas morning before the end. A cute little girl, named Amelia, grabbed the wrapped jewelry box and tore it open. The look on her sweet face was priceless. Would you like some pie?” Neile asked as he got up from the table.

Neile moved behind the man still tied to the chair and began cutting the pie. He made three cuts, put one slice on a plate at a time, and then walked back into his hostage's view. He placed one plate in front of the owner of the house and sat down with the other. He eyed his captive pushing it around on his plate. With a shrug he moved his plate out of the way and focused on the coin.

Neile’s eating process took effect again and for a few long moments he was incapacitated. Oscar took this time to use the metal fork and a free hand to reach the knot and untie it. As he got to his feet the putrid green glow to Neile’s eyes faded and they opened. Oscar dove at his captor, but all Neile did was raise his hand and the man remained suspended in the air.

“That was foolish.”

Neile lowered his hand an inch and the man's feet touched the ground. Then Neile pushed his hand forward and his hostage floated backwards. Next he moved his hand to the right and the gentleman returned to his spot in front of the table. After Neile made a fist his captive fell into the seat.

“Do I need to tie you up again?”

“...”

“That's not rhetorical.”

“Nn, no. You don't have to tie me up.”

“Great. Now get comfortable because here comes the show.” Neile immediately began to mutter under his breath again.

This time his eyes started to glow a deep red. Oscar started to float up and his limbs stretched out, imitating the vitruvian man by Da Vinci. The arms and legs then moved in a way that was not conducive to Oscar as his arms rotated out of their sockets and his legs did the same. Snapping and cracking sounds echoed through the small house as the limbs started folding in on themselves. His fingers rolled into a fist, then the fist folded down onto the forearm, breaking the wrist. That then rolled over again, breaking the forearm. This continued until the mangled arms sat inside the armpits.

The legs followed suit and rolled up, breaking each bone as it went, until they were sitting against the man's pelvis. His cries had started loud, but after his limbs had cracked and broke halfway up their respective appendages the man passed out. Blood had erupted from the man's body as it folded in on itself, but instead of painting the walls, floor, and ceiling in a fine mist of the crimson liquid it hovered around the man as if making a perimeter. Soon that barrier of blood was a dark red as all of it had now seeped out of his body. The man was dead.

“The magic will change you, like it does everyone.” Neile said as he watched in delight. “Whether it's into what you are, or into what you wish to be. Everyone is … different, but beautiful.”

Oscar's head fell forward, his arms folded in towards his chest, his pelvis broke in half as it was forced to fold up into his stomach. Each end of the now folded man continued to crack and break as it was forced into itself. Once each side made it to the center of the man and there was nothing left to break, all sides somehow started to fold inwards. Then the tumescent skin and blood pulled into a single point, not much bigger than one of Neile’s silver coins. A few seconds passed as the single point emitted a bright light that filled the room and then a pair of brand new work boots popped into existence. They then fell onto the chair.

“Splendid! Those will sell quickly.”

Neile walked to the counter and pulled an old leather bound journal out of one of his bags. He opened it, grabbed the pen that was keeping his place, and swiped a line through the name Oscar Weber, which was followed by more names. He collected his things, put the new boots in a bag, and headed for the door.

“Off to find the next pair.” Neile said as he closed the door and disappeared into the night.