InsaneJournal

CHORES

It had taken Dib over an hour to load up the buggy. Barrels of apples, sacks of yams and carrots, and several pumpkins, all homegrown and ready for sale at the market, and all of which the boy had had to retrieve and load himself. His sister had run off somewhere, as she often did, probably skulking somewhere in the fields, while his father tinkered with his strange attempted inventions.

Rolling his eyes a little, he hitched his mare up and pulled himself into the saddle, urging the horse onward once he was comfortably situated. The ride was generally uneventful, but he always felt a little nervous passing through the woods. He knew he had nothing to worry about, though, especially not with the hermit so nearby.

Most of the townsfolk were wary of the recluse; he'd arrived out of nowhere one night, his hut built strangely and a bizarre dog as his companion. His manner of speaking was odd, too, they'd all noticed, and he often mentioned things they'd never heard of before. They all figured he was unbalanced, but they left him mostly to himself simply because he kept mostly to himself. He stayed away from town, and rarely spoke to anyone; the only exception was Dib.

As the buggy ambled along, the mare's hooves clodding along the dirt path, a small shadowy figure stole along beside it. “Late this time around,” the hermit observed, voice high-pitched and grating, as though he'd been eating gravel his whole life. From what everyone else could tell, though, he never actually ate anything.

“Yeah, Gaz is off hiding somewhere, and my father's been working on some more of those...things,” Dib replied, making a face. “So I had to get everything ready myself.”

“He'll never get it to work. I've seen it. It's rubbish.” With a couple clicks of the tongue, the smaller form gave a thoughtful hum. “Perhaps a jolt of plasma energy would do the trick, but...that's a hundred years out of his reach. A nice try, though, really...better than his other stink-brethren.”

A little grin quirked at Dib's lips at the words. He didn't really get what it meant, but he thought it was funny, anyway. It was for that reason that he liked Zim; he didn't make sense, and was thus amusing, but at the same time he seemed infinitely more intelligent then the rest of the townsfolk.

Strange, overall.

“Want to go with me to the market? It'd be nice to have company,” he invited, before nodding over to his wares. “And I'll give you first pick if you like.”

Zim shook his head. “I've much to do. An orbital laser doesn't built itself, you know,” he responded with a touch of weariness. “Thank you, though.” He gave a courteous tip of his head, one of those strange grins on his face; it often gave the impression that he knew something no one else did, and tended to unnerve people.

Adversely, Dib just found it fascinating. He often wondered where Zim really came from, and how he'd shown up out of nowhere; at first there were the expected whispered rumors of foul play, that the hermit had sealed some deal with a devil, but Dib found it hard to believe, and eventually most of the townspeople had come to agree. Zim was strange, but ultimately harmless. In fact, the crops had been doing better since he'd arrived, and three infants had been safely delivered.

He'd never allowed Dib inside his hut – or anywhere near it for that matter – but when he'd been asked about his homeland, the other boy wanting to know more about his strange friend, he'd answered gladly. Of course, said answer had made as much sense as could be expected from Zim. Dib couldn't even really remember what it had been; something about a quadrant and a sector, followed by a short sequence of numbers and letters. There'd been a 'plural' and 'omega' in there, as well, for whatever reason, before the entire thing was designated with the word 'Irk'. Overall, it hadn't seemed entirely sensible, but it had made him laugh anyway, and Zim had laughed along with him.

He was impossible to understand, but that was okay. Dib didn't mind.

Plucking an apple from one bushel, even though he knew it was likely to go uneaten, he tossed it over to the hermit, who caught it with ease even though he hadn't been paying much attention. “I guess I'll see you later, then,” Dib offered amicably, and Zim gave another nod of his head.

“Hopefully before the Sweeper 80X is complete. You are, after all, a rather interesting meat-creature.”

An amused grin on his face, the boy flicked the reins, and the horse and cart picked up speed, heading for the next nearby town. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Zim waving after him, and he waved back just before the hermit seemed to simply vanish with a blur of silvery metal.

Indeed, he was a nice guy – just very very strange. And Dib liked that.