“Are ya’ okay boy? Get up!” A gruff old voice with an accent that he could only describe as a mix of Scottish and Irish sounded in Richard’s ears, waking him up from a state of unconsciousness. The continuous slaps were an equal if not a greater motivator to get up.

“I’m fine! I’m fine! Stop hitting me.” The still disoriented Richard shouted to make the slaps stop. He tried to get a bearing of himself and recalled what had just happened.

I was hit by a rampaging donkey and passed out. I couldn’t avoid it in time.

When he finally looked around, he saw a scruffy old man kneeling next to him. The wrinkly old man had white hair and a short white beard and he was dressed in tattered clothing. He seemed like the many homeless old men he had seen in his past life.

“Back to yer senses aye boy? Sorry about Minny. The lass was throwing a tantrum just because I ate her sugar cube. Since you’re fine, I’ll leave. If a copper asks, tell them I stayed with you until you woke up.” The old man patted the same donkey that knocked Richard out and stood up to walk away.

It was one absurd situation after another ever since he fell into this world. No, his life had been absurd from the very beginning. If anything, the scale of absurdness had just gotten bigger after his death.

After slowly getting up, Richard massaged his sore back that had absorbed most of the impact of the fall. He looked around to make sure nothing was running towards him again and began walking down the street with a limp. He needed to find out more about this new world.

Where does one go to find out information? Library? Police station? Or should he ask someone on the streets? What questions should he ask?

While Richard was thinking about what to do, something small hit his back. “Hey, aren’t you Richie the Rat? Vinnie has been looking for you. You need to pay him back.”

Richard turned to look at the source of the voice. It was a boy, slightly taller than himself. He was wearing similarly dirty and torn sackcloth clothes that seemed emblematic of the poor kids in this place.

Vinnie… it was one of the names that the kid had mentioned about repaying. Do I have to pay the loans that the owner of this body had taken previously? It feels like some kind of morbid tax.

Richard couldn’t even tell the creditors that he was not the same kid who took loans from them. He wouldn’t believe it himself if he were the creditor.

“Who are you?” Richard asked the boy.

The boy looked genuinely offended by the fact that Richard had asked him the question. He spoke slowly, perhaps imitating some adult, to emphasize his anger, “Who, am, I? Are you asking me that? Did you get hit in the head or something? How can you not know, Billy Carrots, this town’s best runner?”

Richard was taken aback by the reaction. It was a simple question but he seemed to have hurt the pride of the boy. He explained, “Actually, I did hit my head. More accurately, a donkey hit me and I lost all my memory. I don’t remember anything.”

Billy Carrots looked suspiciously at Richard. “Are you trying to use that excuse to avoid paying back Vinnie?” But he immediately changed his tone, “No! It must be true. Not knowing me can only mean that you have lost your memories. That explains it!”

Somehow Billy felt that Richard having amnesia was justified by him not knowing about Billy.

The logic is somewhat twisted but I’ll let it pass since he believes me. Maybe he can tell me more about this place.

“Since you are the best runner in town, you must know a lot?” Richard scratched Billy’s pride a little.

The reaction was immediate, the boy puffed up his chest and replied, “Of course, there is nobody in the town who knows more things than me. I even know who the blind priest down at the temple is having an affair with. I can’t tell you that though. Runner’s code.”

A code among the runners wasn’t very surprising considering that even thieves are said to have codes. It just sounded silly to Richard but he didn’t express it.

“Will you help me? I have no memories so it would be great if the best runner could help me answer some questions.” Richard pleaded.

Billy Carrots scratched his nose in embarrassment at Richard’s words. Although he proclaimed he was the best, Billy knew that Brother Ramsey was actually the best runner. He had been awarded three successive Golden Feet and Silver Tongue Awards. That man was practically a runner legend.

But Billy would not let a little bit of guilt get in the way of his happiness. He was going to savor the compliment to the fullest. If possible he will even save some of it to enjoy the next day.

“Although I am busy, as the best runner, I suppose I have to help some poor souls sometimes. Ask away. I’ll tell you everything that doesn’t fall under the Runner’s Code.”

Richard nodded and asked the first question, “Who am I? Where is my home?”

“Heh. You don’t even know that? You are Richie the rat. The most notorious debtor in town. And what home? You are an orphan who lives on the streets just like me.” Billy answered proudly.

Okay. So, I am an orphan who is notorious for borrowing money. I don’t like how it is starting.

“Where is this place then?” Richard asked.

“This is the Sherry Town below the Dingie Hills,” Billy answered right away. There was a smug smile on his face. He was feeling proud of being able to answer all of Richard’s questions.

Richard on the other hand had a frown on his face. He realized that just asking questions wouldn’t suddenly make him aware of his situation. It would only lead to more questions. How should he know what and where are the Dingie Hills?

After some deliberation, Richard asked his next question, “Do you know any place where I can get a job? Anything is fine but preferably in an inn.”

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If I work at a place where many people gather, I might be able to learn more about this place much faster than just asking random questions.

Billy had to think for a moment about this one until finally, his eyes lit up, “Old man Willum needs someone to clean up down at the Bear & Beer. You might even get to stay in the attic if the old man is feeling generous. You can eat the leftovers from the kitchen too. But the pay isn’t very good.”

It was just right for Richard. He didn’t know anything so he needed some place where he could stay for a while until he had a grasp of the world. “Great! You really are the best runner! Can you take me to Bear & Beer? I won’t ask anything else.”

Billy Carrots had tasted the sweet taste of compliments for the first time in his life. He didn’t mind helping Richard a little more. If the Runner’s Code didn’t have a clause about not taking jobs for free, Billy might have even offered to do some jobs for free just to hear more compliments.

And so, a dazed Billy with a huge smile plastered on his face led Richard through the busy streets and alleys to a fairly large, two-story inn with a wooden signboard that depicted an angry bear chugging beer from a mug.

…..

“So, this kid got hit by a donkey, lost his marbles, and needs a job? Why would I hire a kid who isn’t right in the head?” Old man Willum shouted at the two kids in front of him.

Although he was called Old Man Willum, he looked barely in his fifties. It was worrying for Richard if Willum was what passed for old here. That meant that people didn’t live much longer beyond Willum’s age around here. From what he had read, the life expectancy in medieval times was ridiculously low.

Willum had a short beard, salt and pepper hair, a greasy apron, and a belly threatening to burst out of the tight apron at any moment. He also had the classic vertical scar over his eyes that instantly made a person look more menacing.

According to what Billy told Richard on the way, two stories were floating around in the town regarding Willum’s scar. The first one is that Willum had once fought and fell a Bear with his bare hands and got scarred by the bear in the process. The second story is that Willum was clumsy in his youth and cut himself while he was learning to butcher a bear from his father.

One of the stories sounded much more plausible than the other but nobody in the town had ever taken the chance to find out. Willum’s menacing look kept trouble in the distance at all times.

“I am not crazy. I just lost my memories. I am perfectly fine otherwise.” Richard explained.

Willum looked at Richard with suspicious eyes and thought for a while before answering. “Hmm. I’m in urgent need of some more hands so I’ll let you work for a few days. But if I find anything weird during that time, I’ll kick you out.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best.” Richard smiled and gave the standard answer you give when you get hired at a new job. What is your best? The employer doesn’t know that. Only you know your best. Your best could very well be someone else’s worst.

“Okay. You will get a bed up in the attic for the night and you can eat whatever is left in the kitchen. As for the pay, you get 5 shillings a week. There is a rag over there at the corner so you can begin cleaning.” Old Man Willum pointed with his chin.

Richard didn’t know the value of a shilling in this world but as long as he got food and shelter, he didn’t mind doing this job for some time. The money was just a nice bonus.

Willum went to the back kitchen to prepare for lunch and Billy Carrots went out to do his runner work. Willum stood there in the middle of the inn, finally able to take a good look at the place.

The interior of the inn wasn’t any different from the ones he had seen in movies and documentaries. Everything was wooden with a dozen wooden tables and four to six chairs each arranged with some distance between them on the first floor.

There was smoke and grime from decades caked onto the tables, walls, pillars, and the floor. And strange oddities and trinkets were hung on the wall. There was everything from stuffed animal heads to musical instruments. There were quite a lot of bear heads and pelts.

There was a counter at the far end of the main door that served as a bar and behind the bar area was a large, open door that led straight to the kitchen. To the side of the bar, there were stairs leading to the second floor where there were rooms that were to be rented out.

Maybe because there was still a lot of time for lunch or maybe because the inn wasn’t very popular but the place was empty at the moment. After taking it all in, Richard took a long breath and started cleaning the bar area with the rag.

Although it was called cleaning, Richard was just smearing the accumulated grease over the furniture. After ten minutes of trying and failing to remove the grease, he gave up and picked up a broom to sweep the floor at least.

Gordon Ramsey would have made a hell of an episode out of this place.

While Richard was waging war with the sticky dirt and grime, the first customer came in. It was an old woman, dressed in a black gown and a tall and black pointy hat. Somehow the hat looked very clean but very old at the same time.

He wouldn’t say that the old woman was ugly… no, he couldn’t say it. He was sure that something very bad would happen to him if he did. Something primordial inside him was desperately trying to purge that thought entirely. She looked weathered. Yes, weathered, that’s the word.

The old woman holding the large broom looked at the young boy holding a large broom of his own. Despite her scary appearance, she gave him a very kind and sweet smile. To Richard, that felt scarier. There was something in her eyes, they didn’t seem to be looking at him but at the same time, they were looking deep into him.

“Aren’t you an adorable one? Are you Willy’s new little helper?” She asked in the sweet voice of a grandma who bakes you cookies every time you visit. It didn’t suit her appearance.

Richard was frozen for a few seconds before he stuttered out an answer, “Y-yes. I started today. My name is Richard.”

The woman nodded, smiled at Richard, and walked towards the furthest and darkest table in the corner. She put the broom to the side and sat down on the only chair next to the small table. The moment she sat down, Richard had a feeling similar to seeing a puzzle piece falling into place. The way the woman assimilated into the chair was like a picture being completed after the final stroke.

“Did you fall in love with this granny, my dear?” She asked with a grin.

Richard had been staring at her for too long and only came to his senses when she teased him. He shook his head and apologized with a shiver, “I’m sorry. I was just lost in thought.”

Just then Willum came out of the kitchen with a bowl of something green and bubbling. It looked disgusting but somehow the smell was so good that it made him hungry. “Just on time as always, Granny Holly. Here is your Sugar plum soup. I got the freshest plums for you.” Willy winked.

Richard had a feeling that the sugar plums they were talking about weren’t the variety that he knew.

“Thank you, Willy. I will savor it well. And I see you have found yourself a very interesting helper there.” Granny Holly glanced at Richard.

Richard had been observing the interaction between the two old people while pretending to be sweeping. Old Man Willum who had the words ‘old man’ in his name calling the old woman Granny was something that intrigued him. Is Granny her nickname, or is she just that old?

Is she a real witch? Surely people don’t go around cosplaying as witches in this medieval world.

Richard once again had many questions brewing in his mind. But he couldn’t ask them.

“Did that brat did something to annoy you? I knew I shouldn’t have hired someone who is crazy.” Willy glared at Richard.

“No, nothing like that. He is perfectly fine. You did well in hiring him.” Granny Holly shook her head. It was remarkable how her hat remained stable on her head. It was more like the hat was floating over her head than her wearing it. Even when her head moved, the hat stayed static.

“Ah! If Granny Holly says so, I am relieved. Please enjoy the soup.” Willy returned to the kitchen after giving Richard one last look. It was a look that conveyed a full sentence of meaning ‘Do the cleaning properly and don’t disturb the customer’.

Richard gave a slight nod and went back to sweeping the floor while glancing at Granny Holly every few seconds. He had a strong urge to ask her if she was a witch but he held back.

When Richard tried to sneakily look at her, his eyes met her smiling eyes. “Go on. Ask what you want to ask. I’ll answer what I feel like answering.”

Richard almost fell back due to the shock but he managed to keep himself steady with the help of the broom. After a short internal debate about whether it was safe to ask the question, he asked cautiously, “Are you a real witch?”