Young Writers Society

Oh yes I thought of a title! Yay me! No but anyways please review and I will be in you debt. Really. So here it is.

Chapter Two- Owen James

“Give me another one.” I slid the empty cup back to the bartender.

“You don’t get what I’m saying!” The owner of the impatient voice was starting to get irritated.

“Stephen,” I said “I am not going to go on a wild goose chase after some rock that probably doesn’t even exist.” I took a chug of the fresh beer in front of me.

“For Christ sakes Owen, there are records and journals proving that it exists.

“Are you so incredibly dense? Those are just men searching for the unreal. Attention seekers, that’s what they are Stephen.”

“No Owen, you’ll see what I’m talking about when I find it.”

“Now may I ask what is so special about this stone?” He sat there quiet for a second and stared down at his glass, as if he really didn’t want to say. “Stephen,”

“Well, um,” He stopped there as if he was stalling.

“Stephen,”

“It guarantees the dreams of the person that has it will come true.” He said and stared right back down at his cup, his long brown hair covering his eyes. I couldn’t help it, I just started laughing. Not just a shallow laugh but a laugh that came from the gut. A laugh that I hadn’t had much since the war.

“Stop laughing.” He demanded, his whole face turning red. “Stop!”

“Okay, Okay.” I choked out and tried to get my composure back. “So now why do you need your dreams to come true?”

“Well come one Owen, who doesn’t want their dreams to come true? Think of how wonderful it would be to have all the money in the world and to have true love. Can you imagine?” He sat there day dreaming. I laughed at him, god some people dream too much.

“Stephen,” I paused taking a breath and trying to relax my cramped stomach. “You don’t need a rock to make your dreams come true. Even if the thing does exist if it got into the wrong hands it could be disastrous. Plus, you don’t need some rock to get true love.”

Well really though, who was I to give love advice? I didn’t have anyone and I was coming upon my 21st year. It’s not like I’ve never been with anyone, I’ve been with plenty of women

“Yeah, whatever you say Owen.” Stephen and I had been friends ever since the war. Both of us rebelled teens then, decided to sign up and fight in the war.

“I better head out; Catharine will have dinner ready soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you Stephen.”

He stood up and headed out to his sister Catharine’s house. I sat there for a while guzzling the rest of my beer and thinking about the stone. Why would one suffer loss and stress for some stone that would make their dreams come true? I didn’t have to think about that one long, people were greedy these days.

“Owen,” I looked up at the sound of my name.

“Jayme old boy,” I jumped up and greeted the closest thing that I had ever had to a best friend. We shook hands and I motioned for him to with me at the poorly made round table.

He hadn’t changed since the last time I had seen him. Same blue eyes, same brown untamable hair only it was a few inches longer.

One thing that had changed since the first time I had saw him signing up for the war. There was toughness about him; you could see it in his face. His once baby’s bottom smooth face was rough, it was darker than the rest of his body from the long hours under the scorching sun. In his eyes you could see the roughness, the sense of loss and horror. He had once looked spoiled, well fed with full cheeks but he was just skin and bones now, and his cheeks were hollow.

“So, what do I owe for this pleasant surprise?”

“Well, I came back home to aid my sick father.” The last thing I knew him and his father were no closer than cats and dogs. He must have seen the questioning look pass over my face. “My sister sent for me.” He said simply, I remembered he had mentioned a sister before. “I decided to come by and get myself a drink.”

“Well I’m glad you did. I don’t see many of the men I knew in the war around here.”

“Well now you have.”

“I guess I have. Can I buy you a beer?”

“No thanks, I’ve got it.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked trying to make conversation.

“Just got in yesterday.” We sat there silent and I ordered myself another drink.

“You remember Stephen Abbot? He was just in here.”

“Really? How’s ol’ Stephen doing these days?”

“Pretty good. He was trying to get me to go off with him and find some emerald.”

“Hm, the one that’s suppose to make your dreams come true?”

“Yeah, do you happen to know anything about it?”

“Only that no one has found it.” I shook my head and dismissed the subject.

“So how have you been?” Jayme asked me just as the barmaid brought me back my drink. She caught my eye and pushed out her bosom even father. I stared and thought about taking her up on her offer, but thought better of it.

“Nothing really. My days are usually spent in here trying to decide weather or not to take the women up on her offer. How about you?”

“Oh, pretty good. It took me awhile to get my stomach used to eating other things besides corn and my feet are still as ugly as could be from walking barefoot.”

“Yeah mine too.”

“You know what? I would like it if you came to dinner.” He said.

“Umm, are you sure?”

“Absolutely, my sister would love having someone who saved my life come to dinner. Plus she loves playing hostess.” I imagined his sister as a young little blond with soft features and not a freckle one her face. Maybe a nice bosom and spoiled to death.

“Well, if you’re sure no one will mind.”

“I’m sure. You can come out with me now.”

I stood and followed him out. The barmaid will have to wait.