“What should I tell the people when I get there?”
“Tell them the way things should be on a moral level. I’ll help you write a speech. You are not alone.”
I glanced over at Sanoj and held onto him. The rails clacked underneath the car, and others talked among themselves. I stayed silent.
To prevent another Great War.
The words had to come from me, and I had no experience in politics. The engines hissed to a stop. We arrived at Seraculus’ house; there was a big gate and an electric barrier to keep people out. The reporters wouldn’t let up when they saw us.
“Are they always like this?” I asked.
“The media loves to gossip. What better content than a Second Great War?” Tora responded.
The big gates opened and there was a circling ramp leading to the mansion. A large, black tree held the manor on a branch. The tree’s outer leaves were black, with bright gold undersides. A black moss crept up the grey gothic style mansion. The rooftop was made from old clay. It was a house unlike any I had ever seen. Red curtains were drawn on the windows and housekeepers were flying in and out of the house.
“Why are the curtains shut? I saw some Minyades flying through them as doorways,” I said.
“Politician’s houses are watched, and I make every effort to keep private matters from being distorted on the radio,” Tora explained.
“What’s a radio?”
“A 10-year-old invention. It uses phone lines to directly communicate news from the reporters. It is a metallic-box-like device. If you have a microphone, you can talk to others on certain lines just like a phone,” said Tora.
All this technology was bewildering. There was so much more to learn about the world. My cluelessness felt infinite.
I threw my hands up sarcastically, “What’s next? A machine that washes my dishes for me?”.
“You mean a dishwasher?” Seraculus giggled.
“You have a person to do that for you too?”
“No, they have a machine that does that Salan,” said Elizabeth.
“Ha-ha; very funny,” I said, somewhat hesitant.
“Salan is going to be sooo surprised when he sees a dishwasher,” whispered Seraculus behind my back.
We all walked in. There was an old man in a suit who flew down to greet us. “Everything is in order, sir. May I leave now?” asked the suited Minyades.
Tora handed him a brown coin pouch, “Yes, go ahead Pincera. You may leave. Good work today.”
The house had a wooden staircase that reconnected behind us to form a balcony. The walls were covered in portraits, and two fireplaces faced each other from opposing walls. Clearly, Tora had been getting some nice paychecks.
“Let me show you around,” said Seraculus.
I followed her into the kitchen. She grabbed a hatch that seemed to stick out slightly from the wooden furniture. It was white and reflective. When she pulled it down, a mass of neatly organized plates and cutlery was revealed. They were sparkling clean.
Seraculus motioned towards it, “This is the amazing piece of technology called a ‘dishwasher.’ Next stop: the radio. This is in the living room.”
I followed her into the next room. There was a significant metal box with dials beside a pin cushion couch. Sanoj followed me into the room.
“Watch this Salan,” said Seraculus.
She turned a dial, and the machine lit up with a yellow glow. There was static that made both Sanoj and me cover our ears. She readjusted the nob.
“This evening we bring you Wolf News. In latest reports, the missing boy, Salan, is the new king for Faslow. This shocking news has been broadcasted to all countries. The queen refuses to give up her crown because he is not purebred. Border patrol has been strengthened, and the queen is still trying to quell the riots. People have witnessed Salan befriending a Bastil, a highly illegal action supported by 11 members of the council. Also, one council member, John Richards, had this to say:
“It is unbelievable that we are allowing the Felis back into our country. They cannot be trusted. They have rebelled against us before and will do it again. Our borders need a wall to keep these people out. We will not enslave them like Faslow, but they should not be trusted.”
“Many others believe that Salan will take over and stop the uprisings for the global economy. We now go to our main new newscaster, Crya Sheringson. Crya?”
“Thanks, Susanna. I believe that the right wing holds the people’s beliefs in the highest regard. Salan shouldn’t even be allowed to leave Faslow. This is what happens when we don’t invest more in our military.”
Tora walked in and turned off the radio. He seemed as angry as me.
“I hear enough of that garbage at work. The media here is bought out by politicians, so take everything they say with a grain of salt.”
Mr. Gram shuffled behind us, his shoulders were hunched.
Tora turned around, “Mr. Gram, please join me for a drink.”
“I would, but I have to get home to the kids. My wife will start to worry. I just wanted to make sure Salan got here safe and sound. Goodbye, everybody.”
“Bye Mr. Gram, and thank you for everything,” I said.
Mr. Gram left the mansion. He was a man among men to me. There was a shortage of understanding in this world.
Tor stifled a yawn, “Well I’m tired. I’m on 14-hour shifts at work, and tomorrow I have to get up early for church.”
“Oh yeah, Salan; do you want to come to church with our family at seven tomorrow evening?” asked Elizabeth.
“I don’t know anything about the church or what to do there.”
“It’s welcoming, so don’t worry. You should come.”
“Alright, why not?”
Sanoj nudged my leg, “Meow.”
“Yea I’m starving too.”
“Let’s make some dinner. Dad? You want anything?” asked Seraculus.
“No, I’m too tired to eat. In fact, I’m going to bed right now. Good day, everyone,” said Tora.
“Good day, dad,” said Seraculus.
“Good day?” I asked.
“It’s like goodnight, but for nocturnal people,” said Elizabeth.
We both walked to the kitchen. Sanoj joined us along with Elizabeth. The kitchen had many appliances. I sat down on a bar stool, and Sanoj sat beside me. We watched Seraculus and Elizabeth while my stomach grumbled.
“What are we making? I’m starving for some meat,” I said.
“Meow,” Sanoj perked up his ears.
“We’re both starving for some meat. I could eat another boar all by myself.”
“We’re making a delicacy here for you both. It’s strashinga with boiled prangs. What would you like to drink?” asked Elizabeth.
“Milk, but what were those types of food? I’ve never heard of it before.”
Elizabeth began an explanation. “Strashinga looks like a purple lobster that weighs about 15 pounds. It has the wool of a sheep. That’s the best way I can describe it. And prangs are a black fruit that have a sour taste like lemon but then turns sweet. It has a yellow interior.”
“This looks like an overripe pear with yellow spots,” I observed.
“But don’t worry; they’re delicious. And they go well with this meat,” said Elizabeth.
Elizabeth handed Seraculus a cutting knife with the board, “Here, cut out the peels. Then chop them up. Do it quickly or you’ll tear up and cry.”
Seraculus chopped up the prangs while Elizabeth grabbed four Strashinga from the fridge. Their claws had been tied. They were still alive but moving very slowly.
“They were alive in there?” I asked, upset by the apparent cruelty of their refrigeration.
“Strashinga go through hibernation during the winter. The fridge tricks their system to go into hibernation. They don’t feel any pain from this, and you don’t have to feed them,” said Elizabeth.
She took out the knife and quickly cut them in half, starting from the head so that they wouldn’t s
uffer. Their blood was a clear liquid. There was a massive crunch to each chop. After the Strashingas were dead, Elizabeth removed the thin layer of black wool. She cooked them on over a fireplace that had a sizeable heat-resistant countertop. She cooked noodles on the side while doing all of this. It was like watching two professional chefs at work.
Sanoj and I stared, impressed at their speed. Sanoj was drooling all over the floor at the smell of meat, and I had to stop myself from doing the same.
“Beats the hell out of my boar, don’t you think?” I stated.
Sanoj’s drooling increased in intensity as the meat started to simmer.
“Yes, I’m hungry too,” I said patting Sanoj’s head.
The meal was extraordinary. I ate until my stomach hurt. The Strashingas did indeed go well with the prangs, which tasted almost like lemons except for less sour. Seraculus ate the whole dish and asked for seconds. She seemed like a bottomless pit. Sanoj and I were astonished. Elizabeth read my reaction, smiled and turned her attention to me at the dinner table.
“Minyades burn more calories a day by flying, so they need to consume more calories.”
“That makes sense.”
Thinking back, I’m surprised Cassiella ate the same amount as me. That must have been hard. I shook the thought her from my mind, then observed Seraculus. Seraculus had lobster meat hanging out of her mouth. I found it adorable, but she looked a little embarrassed.
“You’ve got to learn to have table manners with guests,” said Elizabeth.
“Mom!” whined Seraculus.
“I remember being on the other side of this conversation. You’re adorable,” I said mockingly.
“That’s my line,” said Seraculus.
“Not so much fun from the other side, is it?”
Before Seraculus could respond, I remembered something. I grabbed my bag. I had not inspected it this entire time. My right hand needs to be fixed. I took out everything. The jug of water, a tomato soup can, my mother’s flute, and my robotic arm. I forgot that my weapons had been confiscated at the police station.
“When do you think I can get my weapons back? They confiscated them at the station.”
“When you leave the country. You can’t have a weapon in this country unless you’re an officer. Any idiot could use a sword to do damage. No civilian should have a weapon unless properly trained,” said Elizabeth.
This made sense. Some people are barbaric. People with pride use their fists against their opponents. However, it pissed me off that I couldn’t get my stuff back.
“You’ll only be here for a week, and by that time you’ll be escorted illegally into Faslow. This is a secret that only politicians are supposed to know, but Tora trusts us with this information. So, don’t go talking about this in public, got it?”
“Got it,” I replied.
The arm was still broken at the connecting tip. The metal had frayed.
“Do you think someone could fix this so I could have my hand back?” I asked.
Elizabeth took the arm and inspected it.
“I’ll talk to Tora. I have no idea who could help you around here. You would need a professional. I haven’t seen that kind of arm for our amputees; it seems new. Where did you get it?”
Tora had not told his wife about my background. I remembered how the doctor told me it was a prototype.
“Oh, this? Some stranger gave it to me when he saw I had no arm. He took off before I could ask any questions when I was on the road,” I said, scratching the back of my head.
Elizabeth caught on to this pathetically obvious lie immediately. Even so, she played along by changing the subject.
“That’s quite the story. This is some cutting-edge technology. Advances like this and the phone, who knows what people will come up with next?”
“I hope whatever is dreamed up is used to help people.”
“Many technological advances occur during wartime. Canned food was invented for soldiers during the Great War, but now it’s used to feed regular civilians.”
I enjoyed their company, and we talked for another hour. By that time, I was exhausted. My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by an anchor.
I yawned and said, “I’ve got to go to sleep.”
“Seraculus, show Salan the bedroom,” said Elizabeth.
With Sanoj in tow, Seraculus led me to a massive bed. It had a gold trimmed design on black sheets. The wool made your body melt into the mattress. It was like lying down on top of a cloud. I flopped on top of it. Seraculus was lucky.
“This is amazing,” I smiled.
Sanoj jumped up and curled beside me. He started to purr and rub up against my head. It felt kind of contagious, so I joined in. I got caught up in the moment and realized Seraculus hadn’t left the room yet.
“Oh,” I said, glanced up at her.
“You’re both so adorable,” she said, petting my head before she left.
Ignoring her, I took my mother’s flute and decided to play it. Sanoj and I made it almost a tradition of ours. The door crept open, and I saw someone peering in. I stood up ready to fight, and Sanoj growled at the sound.
“WHO’S THERE!” I shouted.
Seraculus popped out of the doorway with her hands up. She paused and pursed her lips. I could tell something was on her mind.
“What happened to you?” she asked abruptly.
“I’m the same old kitt—”
“I’m not stupid! I haven’t known you long, but I know you’ve changed. You’re more distant now. I can tell that a stranger just didn’t give you that arm. I can tell you are in pain. I’ll ask again, what happened to you?”
“Listen Seraculus; I don’t know what—”
“Cut the bullshit! Something is wrong! Your answer to my mother’s question made no sense. You are keeping something from me. What is it? Don't’ you trust me?” she shrilled.
How could I tell her? Telling another person what happened felt like reliving a nightmare. I’ve done it twice now, and that was two times too many. Would she even look at me the same? This is something I just can’t go around telling people.
Seraculus repeated, “Tell me what happened to you out there.”
She walked over and raised her hand to touch my head. I was lost in thought, and when she touched me, I reflexively grabbed it and whipped her into a choke hold. When I see a hand raised over my head, it’s an almost instinctive reaction now. I let go of her immediately, horrified at what I did.
“What happened to you?” she cried.
I put the covers over my and shoulder and rolled over, “You should go to bed, Seraculus.”
She walked around onto my bedside and crouched in her pajamas. She put her hand on my head and stared right into my eyes. I couldn’t hold her gaze. I was afraid she would read my mind if our eyes met.
“Have it your way, goodnight Salan.”
I couldn’t answer her. My mouth wouldn’t move at all.
She stood up to leave. I felt like I was unfair to her. She was my old friend. I grabbed her hand and stared her in the eyes.
“Do you remember what my mother made me promise not to do before she died?” I asked.
She stared through me, tracing back to the incident.
“Don’t murder and become the monster others want you to be?”
“I will tell you everything later, but for now, this is all I can say: Some promises are too difficult to keep Seraculus.”
She began to cry holding me.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wish I could tell you more it’s just that...” my voice drifted off.
“I understand; it’s OK.”
We hugged for a long time and said good day to each other. I slept beside Sanoj and curled up closer than usual. Pain comes in waves, one moment it doesn’t hit you and the next it feels like a tsunami slammed into your chest. At least I didn’t have the usual nightmare.
The next morning, Seraculus pretended nothing had happened the night before. One of the kindest t
hings a person can do is to tell that you’ve tapped out. They help distract you from the pain rather than confront it while the wound was still fresh.
In the afternoon, everybody got together again. Around four, Tora walked downstairs in his black robe.
“Good evening,” he announced.
“Good evening,” replied everyone else but me. I had something more important to say.
“Tora, I have a question for you.”
“What is it Salan?” said Tora, rubbing his eyes.
“Do you know someone who could fix this for me?” I said, lifting my robotic arm with frayed metal.
Tora took the arm and examined it. Remembering what had happened to me, he started to speak but then stopped, realizing his daughter was present.
“I’ll have someone look at it. I should’ve noticed it earlier. I’ll have someone investigate this at the council quickly. I think if I see another stack of legal papers, I’m going to lose it.”
He went back upstairs, got dressed, and immediately walked out of the house. He was very helpful to me. Sanoj still didn’t like his presence, and I didn’t hold it against him. Sanoj stared up at Seraculus; she seemed to glance at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Meow.”
“Oh, and how would you know that?” I asked.
“Meow.”
“No, you’re a guy, Sanoj.”
“Meow.”
“Wait! So, you're a girl?”
“Meow.”
“How am I the idiot here! You could have said something!”
“Meow.”
“Why would I ever look there? How am I supposed to know?”
Seraculus and Elizabeth laughed at our conversation.
“Let’s get ready for church. Salan we have some guest clothing in your bedroom drawers and closet. The closet has some nice shoes and suits.” said Elizabeth.
I went upstairs and got out the suit and shoes. The material felt incredible and silky smooth to the touch. I also had a black tie and a white collared shirt. I have never owned a piece of clothing with buttons, much less a tie.
Staring at the clothing, I felt like a complete idiot. How do you put on a suit? I put on the pants and belt and then proceeded to find out how the buttons worked. Grabbing the white collared shirt, I tried moving them into each other, but one wouldn’t go in. One hand was hard to work with. It made me so angry I couldn’t do up a button, so I activated my aura as a replacement hand. Within seconds nothing remained of the white collared shirt; it was torn to shreds. Strips of white linen were all over the floor. Guess I used too much strength. Well, now what? I must have wasted 20 minutes trying to do up buttons until Seraculus knocked at the door.
Untold Deception Page 23