Liam was just about to get started on Dick’s wounds when the older man flinched.
“I’m sorry, did I-“
“There’s something outside!” Dick got up heavily and walked to the window.
“Sir, I think you should sit down.”
Dick didn’t respond, he kept looking out of the window, waiting for something to move but nothing happened. When he started to feel a little dizzy- though he wouldn’t admit it to the boy- he went back to the chair, his eyes still fixed on the window.
“So, what are you?” Liam took the liberty to ask him directly after most of the room’s floor was covered with various weapons, most of them he had only seen in books. “I guess you’re not a teacher?” He studied his face for any sign of emotion. Liam wasn’t sure but for a brief moment Dick had actually looked confused, as if he didn’t know the answer either.
“How old are you?”, Dick asked, avoiding Liam’s question.
“Fifteen.”
“Don’t you have school or something?”
“I just graduated.”
Dick stared at him in disbelief. “At fifteen?”
“Yes, sir.” Liam carefully started to fix the wound on his chest, trying not to mess anything up.
“And now you ran from home?”
“Not exactly. I told my grandparents I was going to attend a university in the US, so they think I’m on my way to America right now. They have no idea that I don’t intend to waste years of my life among ignorant college students…” Liam paused for a second to check if he was done stitching the first wound, then started on another one. “I definitely have to leave Ireland, there’s nothing you can do here except farming and fishing. I thought of going to England, London maybe. At least a bigger city…” He looked up to the older man. “You still haven’t told me what your profession is.”
Dick didn't show any facial expression. “Look, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay…” Liam managed to actually be quiet for the time he stitched the remaining wounds, but he had a very hard time not bombarding the man with all his questions. Dick didn’t seem the kind of guy who liked to talk a lot, he actually seemed like someone who would point a gun at you if you wouldn’t shut up, and that man had loads of weapons, so Liam didn’t want to challenge him. After he was done Liam got up to wash his hands. When he came out of the bathroom he saw Dick already standing at the window again.
“You really shouldn’t get up all the time, sir.”
“Stop calling me ‘sir’, that sounds like I’m an 80-year old English duke.”
“Okay.” Liam nodded. “I’m going downstairs to get you something to eat and drink. You can use the bed, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” He was just about to walk out the door when he turned around again. “Oh, is there anything specific you can’t eat? Any allergies? Are you lactose-intolerant? Are you Jewish and can only eat kosher? Are you a vegetarian? Not that you look like one but-“
“Just get whatever you can find”, Dick said, a bit impatiently.
“Okay, sir, ahem, Mr. Pound…” Liam left the room quickly and returned half an hour later with a tray. “I’m sorry in case you wanted any alcoholic drinks, they wouldn’t sell me any, and besides, I don’t think that you should drink-“ He stopped talking when he saw Dick, sitting in the chair, his arms crossed, staring at him warily, almost hostile.
“Who are you?”
“Ahem…sorry?”
“Who are you working for?”
“What?”
Dick held up Liam’s sketchbook. “So, again, who are you?”
“Hey, you’re not supposed to take someone else’s things!” Liam snatched the book from him, pressing it against his chest as if it was the most valuable possession he owned. “Those are just some sketches…”
“Some sketches?” Dick raised his eyebrows. “Tell me, kid, what 15-year old draws sketches of bombs and other obviously dangerous things that can kill people?”
“Well, actually I was 12 when I-“
“Who the hell are you working for?”
“Nobody”, Liam replied. “And I guess you have already checked every corner of the room and my bag to see if I was hiding something, and then you probably saw that there’s nothing to find, so…”
“The book is more than enough.”
“More than enough what? I told you they are harmless sketches…Well, the term ‘harmless’ isn’t that appropriate for it but I swear I’m not working for anyone, and nobody knows about this book.”
Dick still looked at him suspiciously. “So you’re telling me that you do this for fun? Drawing those sketches?”
“Technically I draw them in order to have a plan before I actually start-“
“Start what?”
“Ahem…before I start building them.” Liam cleared his throat. He didn’t really want to know what the older man was thinking of him right now.
“You build the things you draw?”
“Well, I tried some here and there, but I couldn’t really carry on with the work because my grandparents would have freaked if they saw me building a bomb or something like that. They are catholic, you know, they would probably think I’m possessed by the devil or something…”
There was an awkward silence before Dick finally said something. “You’re weird…”
“You’re not the first one who said that.”
“But your book…if you can actually build the things you draw…do you have any idea how useful that is?”
“Well, I guess…” Liam went back to his bag to see if Dick had taken anything else out.
“Are you checking if I stole your precious underwear?” Dick finally sounded more sarcastic than warily. “No offence, but they wouldn’t fit me anyway.”
Liam blushed, carefully putting his sketchbook back, then he handed him the tray. “Here’s your dinner.”
Dick stared at the food as if it was poisoned. “What’s that?”
“Today’s specialty.” Liam grinned. “Sheep giblets.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You made it perfectly clear that you’re not picky about your food, so enjoy.”