Chapter 2

Away from the chaos and in the middle of who-knows-where was a scene that was quite the opposite of the Frontier’s situation. Non-chaotic, calm and overall more peaceful. Though, it wasn’t comforting in the slightest for one lonely, terrified derby hat. The visual memories of what happened before were vague but the feeling of being gripped by the back of their blazer just as they were opening the door to leave for work was hard to forget. Then life was all dark, different and miserable from there.

Derby Bowler, the beloved Something who was missing from the Frontier, had never been so miserable before. They’d been tossed from hidey hole to hidey hole since they were taken from their home. This time they were in a narrow room that had been carved into the wall of a cavern deep underground. It wasn’t much different than the others, but this spot was the worst one yet. They thought the dark was bad but the humidity and cold was so much worse! Water trickled down the walls in wide, flat waterfalls. The floor was never dry and there was no way to keep warm. Their blazer was soaked all the way through and hung like a damp rag on their body. There were moth-eaten linens in a pile of untidy wood that might’ve once been part of a bed. A bucket for certain uses and…certainly used! Yuck! The only upside was a large funnel of light that shone through a hole in the ceiling of the cavern and fluttered all the way down outside of their cell, but it was just out of Derby’s reach. There were no bars to keep them in their cell and the entrance was a doorless wooden frame, but what kept them in was lurking just outside.

Derby was used to always being in the sunlight or in lamp lit rooms. Their favorite place in their home was next to the fireplace in their favorite robe and reading a book. There was no point in being in the dark for Derby. How were they supposed to read or write that way? Now they were stuck in it with this humidity and cold. They were even too exhausted to feel anxiety.

Derby Bowler was an observant and imaginative hat. This was enough to make Something and they tried to prove that with any action. No matter how small. They didn’t consider themselves a scientist, but merely an observer who drew in the world and tried to understand it. Maybe that did make them one? Derby shook their brim and edged as close as they dared to the door frame.

Outside their cell was a mess of a mine. Whatever happened to make it be abandoned now must’ve happened in a horrible hurry. It just wasn’t in the nature of the Things to let their inanimate counterparts be left to time. In a place like the Frontier, objects were mended when broken or repurposed even if the Things themselves were not. It was a place where their children didn’t bash mailboxes or break their neighbors windows. If they were angry, they didn’t ruin what others owned unless they wanted to do irreversible damage to that relationship. Besides, they had other ways to hurt each other, very hurtful ways besides property damage that were more common. If it ever came to damaging their environment, they were probably at their wit’s end.

Derby’s chest ached at the site of the pickaxes gathering rust and old coats on pegs getting moldy. Just outside the door frame was a broken chair and next to it, on a stump of stalagmite, lay a rather handsome metal cigarette case with elaborate embossings and the letters MTM on the cover. Black markings on the cave ceiling told Derby this was a common smoking spot for whoever was here before.

A figure rushed past their vision with a shriek that sent them scrambling deeper into their cell again. Right. The Raptors. Oh well, to Derby it didn’t matter how well acquainted they became with a place when they were tossed around so often. The switches happened so frequently that whenever a large canvas bag was presented, they would obediently crawl inside. By this point they stopped trying to figure out where they were going or what was happening. Derby couldn’t tell exactly what their situation was. Kidnapped? Yes. Imprisoned? Yes. They couldn’t tell you for what or why.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying to find out. However, their captors never responded. All they knew was that their captors were Raptors. At first they were afraid of being eaten or tossed off the edge of the Grand Mesa, but it’d been awhile and neither of those seemed plausible. How would a Raptor eat a hat anyway?

The hat shook the details out of their hat shaped head and focused on the Raptor shaped problem just outside the doorway.

Back home, the talk of Raptors only ever drew the hat’s curiosity when the Things discussed topics such as how they hunted animals instead of growing food. That sounded like so much effort. Why chase your food when you could pick it off a vine? The main obstacle with growing food was needing fertile soil and water but it wasn’t impossible. Even in the desert there were sources of water and fertile soil could be made. Wasn’t it easier to grow food instead of going through the effort of chasing and killing?

Derby’s curiosity made them impartial to a lot of topics that should’ve made them MUCH more partial. Throughout this whole situation, they were constantly studying their captors and keeping mental notes. If only being kidnapped came with a pen and paper.

These Raptors never seemed interested in hurting the Thing, only making sure that they didn’t run away, not that Derby would dare attempt to test that theory out. What information did they know for certain about Raptors? All they read was heavily biased sources, so the only source they could trust was from their own experiences. So, that meant gaining perspective from the only Raptor they ever saw which was Caesar Swift of the Somethings.

From what they could see, the Raptors’ demeanors proved them to be nimble, speedy, and potentially cruel. Caesar was slow and rather clumsy, but he also seemed to be in poor health. These Raptors were nearly as tall as Derby, making them rather average, while Caesar was far shorter. They were slender, but not emaciated as Caesar. Did Raptors really have different species? It seemed much more obvious now.

It would’ve been easier if Derby could’ve seen the Raptors in the light but they always hid in the shadows of the cavern. There was no way to tell what they looked like beyond their silhouettes.

The Raptors chatted to each other in some sort of strange language as they pounced around and played games with each other. The gaggle of Raptors would giggle, speaking in hushed tones as if spreading some nasty rumors to each other. Learning languages made Derby very self conscious. They could never seem to understand. Linguistics was also not a subject Derby favored so they they tried to blend into the background by ignoring them and drawing in the sand or fidget with a stone.

It was especially annoying when they all started shrieking in what Derby guessed was some kind of laughter. They had liked to believe that they were telling each other jokes but they knew deep down the Raptors were making fun of them.

What choice but to slump against the wall and watch the silhouettes of those nimble Raptors lay across rocks or dance about in the shadows. Derby even tried to count how many there was in their pack or clan or whatever Raptors lived in. There were several attempts but they moved around so much that it was impossible to tell.

Of all the concerns, Derby now thought of how their suit was ruined. This was the new suit that had been tailored specifically for their new job! It was a shame to ruin a suit that was so new yet already held so much sentimental value. Derby H. Bowler was finally Something. Derby wished they could’ve worked there long enough to rub it in the faces of those at the orphanage, their old jobs, their old foster parents, the whole Frontier! They were a Nothing that became Something! They were the most useful, the most important, the-…Well, what good was being Something of Archives when you were trapped in the bottom of a mine?

Mining! That must mean there were Things here! Not in a very long time that is, but perhaps one may stumble upon the derby in despair and rescue them? Wait, no! That wouldn’t be good! If this is mining territory then they were nowhere near the Frontier, not even Mesatown! That means any of the Things were Farthings! The last situation Derby needed to be in was in the hands of Raptors and then immediately fall into the hands of rowdy outlaws.

However, maybe they were like Frederick! Frederick was once a Farthing and he turned around! He became a Leader which made him the leader of the Somethings! That meant he was the best of anything. Somehow, that thought didn’t sit comfortably with Derby for some reason. They never had a thought like that before. Farthings were automatic Nothings, but Frederick wasn’t. Perhaps they did have thoughts like that before but they passed by so quickly that Derby forgot about them.

This time they wouldn’t just pass. Derby Bowler had no choice but to think since that was all there was to do. The only other tasks they could distract themselves with were tracing their index finger in the sand, making tiny stacks of balanced stones, or rocking back and forth when the thoughts got louder. This type of inner monologue wasn’t the usual process when they did this but it was the only action that could help. For some reason, Derby found crying difficult. So rocking they did as their new reality brought on controversial thoughts.