Standing Up For George

Talia's POV

"They're here again," George announces the arrival of the gang, and I immediately figure they're his bullies. My heart beats, even when I haven't seen them, but I brace myself. "Talia, George needs you more than ever now, you can't let him down," I mutter.

"Stay calm," I pat his back and turn to face the so-called group.

"What do you want from him?" I ask slowly coming out of the house. They shift back fearfully. I guess they never expected to see me there. The last boy was about to take off when I grabbed him by his clothes.

"Tell me one reason why I should not strangle you right now?" My words stop others in their tracks, and they gaze eyes wide, probably trying to see what will become of their friend. "Hun? You're not going to say anything?"

The boy shivers in my grips. "Please don't, I beg you, we will never come here again." His hands are pleading for his freedom because he's almost choking from my grip.

"Ok, fine. I'll spare you but on one condition. Tell me why you decided to make George a subject of bully?" I ask, still holding him up high.

"He's...he's..." He stammers, and then I throw him to the floor, pinning him down with one foot; his colleagues blink in amazement, shivering even when they were not close to where I was.

"If you ever cross paths with George again, make sure you take another route and run as fast as you can, cause if he tells me he ever set eyes on any of you," I raise my hands, pointing in the other gang members direction and they all shrink in the track. "Consider yourself dead." I release my grip on him. I need not give him further instructions before he stands up wobbly and takes to his heels.

George hugs me from behind "I knew from the first time I set my eyes on you that you would be my saviour. You don't know how grateful I am, Giant..."

"Talia," I cut in. "Call me Talia. Do you, by any chance, have some food here? I don't want to bother you, but the thing is, I'm starving. I haven't eaten in days."

"I only eat leftovers from people's houses. I don't have money, so feeding is always difficult, and then I resolve to beg for leftovers from people in the community. If you don't mind, I can go and get some for you." He speaks innocently, and I shift in my seat.

Is he serious? Leftovers? I blame myself for deciding to leave the pack at this time when I am not ready at all. I should have taken the insults for one more day and at least got enough foodstuffs to help me stay alive on this trip. My stomach rumbles again, and I hold it, squeezing my face.

"Yes, please, I don't mind. Go get the leftovers; it will help me stay alive, at least." George runs off even before I finish talking, and in a few seconds, he comes back with a small plate in his hands.

"Take this; it should hold you for some time." He hands the plate. I open it and see three miserable pieces of red meat. Who am I to complain when I'm almost dying from hunger? I eat the meats hungrily, drinking almost all the water he has in the house to supplement the food I couldn't get.

"Can you cook?" He asks suddenly, and I wonder why he wants to know. Maybe he has some ingredients.

"Do you have some cooking ingredients? Why do you ask?" I question. Just then, something strikes my mind, and I immediately remember that I have my Grandmother's recipe book. Also, Father tucked some notes into my pockets before I left the house. "Could those be money?"I think aloud.

"I don't, but I have some money. A traveller who lost his way some time ago gave me, but I can't cook, so I don't know the exact ingredients to buy. I just kept the money since then, waiting for someone to help out with it." He says but I wasn't paying attention. My mind is trying to remember which part of the house I kept my bag when we came in.

"George, have you seen my bag?" I ask, scanning the room for it.

"I gave it to you at the hut, I thought you were holding it." He answers, also scanning the area.

"Yeah, I'm sure you have me. I'm not disputing that fact, but have you seen it since we came in?" I ask again.

"Yes, you came with it I'm sure." We both pause for a while as a realization strikes and then our eyes grow wider.

"The gang!!!" We chorus.

"Do you think those guys can be foolish enough to steal my bag after the warnings I gave them?" I am pacing the room now, my anger boiling to a high degree. I knew Dad tucked something into a side pocket of the bag. And I am so sure it's some notes. But how do I get the bag when those goddess-forsaken fools decided to steal it?

"I suspect Dave; he is the only one who can be fast and go unnoticed in stealing. The good news is that I know where he stays."

"Then let's get going," I say impatiently. "I have some cash in the bag which will be of help. If we don't get it? We might end up dying of hunger." I guess George is more interested in finding the bag after hearing the word cash.

"Rush before he disappears with it!" He's saying this as he speeds ahead, and I'm just trying to catch up.

"Hey! Slow down!" I was screaming, but George was not even listening. He halts in front of another worn-out hut and gestures, peering inside to check if anyone's home.

"You were fast...," I say panting, catching up finally with George. As I am about to enter the hut, a smell oozes out of the hut. "What could that be?"