The Smudger

by Angeline Trevena

“I’m amazed they’re covering it at all. There’s clearly not much else going on.”

  And then the images were gone, replaced by some kind of première or opening. People didn’t want to know about dead traders when they could check out the latest fashions their favourite movie stars were wearing.

  “Sorry to drag you from your bath,” Saji said. He put his arm around me and pulled me up against him, despite my wet hair and skin.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Are you getting back in?”

  “I think I’d rather just go to bed,” I said.

  We slept in until almost eleven the next morning, running downstairs to the breakfast room full of apologies. But the landlady, Mrs Rido, wouldn't hear any of it.

  “You needed that sleep, especially the little one, and you all look a lot better for it. Now, what can I get you for breakfast?”

  “We're not too late?” Saji asked.

  “What's late? Come on, what do you fancy?”

  We ate until our bellies ached, and our eyelids started to droop again.

  “What are your plans for the day?” Mrs Rido asked.

  “We really don't have any,” replied Saji, “which is, actually, exactly what the plan was.”

  “A day of relaxation, eh? Sounds like a good idea. In which case, why don't you move into our guest lounge? There's toys and books and a TV.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, glancing at Omori. She was already jiggling up and down in her seat.

  As we left the breakfast room, Mrs Rido caught my arm. “I noticed that you didn't arrive here with any luggage at all, and, you look like you've done your absolute best with them, but I'm sure you could all do with some clean clothes. I collect donations for charity. Why don't you come and take a look. You can grab a few outfits for all of you.”

  “No, no, we couldn't possibly—”

  “Nonsense,” she said. “I won't take ‘no’ for an answer. Come on.”

  She led me to a cupboard which was jammed with all the essentials; clothes, shoes, bags, toys, toiletries.

  “Take whatever you want,” Mrs Rido said. “And don’t be polite, or modest. Everyone needs more than one outfit, and you certainly need a good coat for that girl of yours. And you need some better boots. So help yourself, and if you don’t take enough, I won’t let you leave until I’ve forced more onto you. There’s plenty of rucksacks there, so fill a couple of those.” She smiled and patted my shoulder.

  “Thank you, so much. Seriously, no one is ever this kind to traders.”

  “At the end of the day, we’re all human, and we both want the same thing: for that little girl to be safe, and warm, and happy. Those eyes of hers just melt your heart, don’t they.”

  “Well, thank you. This is more than generous.”

  “I’ll leave you to it. Take whatever you want.”

  I didn’t hold back. I took every cold stare, every pointed finger, every insult we’d suffered in Akimori, and I pushed it into my hands as I furiously rummaged. I dug out warm, practical clothes, thick pyjamas, warm socks, underwear, sturdy boots. I grabbed toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorants, sanitary pads. All the things we always took for granted, and all the things we’d been living without. I took razors, and toys, and toilet paper, and plates, and mugs, and cutlery. Blankets, sleeping bags, pillows. I crammed them into the two biggest rucksacks I could find, and then I filled every side pocket, and even tied items to the straps.

  We only had three more days of walking in front of us, but we’d be arriving in Kumonayo with nothing, and we’d have to create a home from nothing, and I didn’t want to arrive there with my begging bowl in hand. I didn’t want their pity, or their sympathy, because if I saw sorrow in their faces, I wouldn’t be able to contain mine. I needed to make something familiar in a strange place, give Omori somewhere to feel safe. I couldn’t do that if I was falling apart, and I couldn’t burden Saji with the responsibility of being strong for the both of us. He’d lost just as much as I had.

  17

  KIOTO

  I sat and watched the smudger sleep for a while. She was kicking and twitching, crying out, her eyes roved under her eyelids. I wondered when she’d last had a peaceful night’s sleep.

  I pushed her matted hair back from her damp face. Her skin was so pale, and her features were so Arukumbi that you could never mistake her for anything else.

  Her people had been persecuted, tortured, killed, and enslaved for hundreds of years, since the Lobayans first invaded. If colony traders were kept at arm’s length, the Arukumbi had been kept at the end of a spear. The suffering of my people was nothing in comparison.

  They hadn’t been allowed to mix with Lobayans, and as a result, their culture had stayed intact, albeit hidden away. Modern day Lobayans, on the other hand, were little more than mongrels. There were stories and theories about where colony traders had come from, but no one theory pushed itself to the fore with evidence. It was as if we’d simply sprung from the ground one day. It was sad to know so little about my own ancestry when I could happily rattle off a hundred facts and dates about the Arukumbi.

  The rooks in the colonies liked to teach about Arukumbi history. It served several agendas: to keep the Arukumbi history alive as a rebellious act against the authorities (the enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that), it showed young traders that they weren’t the only persecuted people, and it also showed them that there were people who had it worse than they did.

  We’d found some abandoned properties on the edge of Miyakata, almost overlooking the colony there. The broken windows provided easy access, and judging by the mattresses and empty food and drink containers, we weren’t the first people to make use of them.

  I wandered to the window and glanced up at the dark sky. It was overcast, so there were no stars to be seen. I silently recited the Grace. I’m sure the High would understand that the thought of completing the full ceremony, minus my pebble, was not an enticing prospect. After reciting the words I’d said every day of my life since I was able, I added a promise to complete the full ceremony tomorrow.

  The smudger seemed a little more settled, so I lay down on a mattress next to her and closed my eyes. Not that I expected to get much sleep. The scratch was digging into my brain. It was like trying to sleep with your head on a rock.

  It was already light when I woke. I’d hoped to get away at first light, but the sun was already high above the buildings. I shrugged, I’d obviously needed the rest. Besides, the walk from Miyakata was eight or nine days at best, we could afford a lie in.

  I looked over at the smudger. She was lying with her back to me, breathing deeply. I wasn’t going to interrupt her while she was actually quiet.

  I took the time to go through my bag; work out what I needed to replace and what I could live without.

  I looked up as the smudger rolled over. Her face was covered with blood. I sat and stared for a second, my brain taking a moment to catch up.

  I crawled over to her and took hold of her face in my hands. She opened her eyes and blinked as they filled with blood.

  “You’re alright, you’re alright,” I said. “You’ve hurt yourself, but we’ll get you some help. Ok?”

  She nodded, her eyes focused on mine. Completely focused. No sign of the shivers.

  “What’s your name?” I asked her.

  “Malia.”

  “I’m Kioto.”

  “You told me yesterday.”

  “I did. I wasn’t sure if you… if you’d remember.”

  “What’s happened to me?” she asked, looking at her blood covered hands.

  “I don’t know. I guess you bashed your face on the floor. We need to get you to a hospital. Do you think you can walk?”

  She nodded.

  “But let’s get you cleaned up first. I doubt there’s any running water here, and I’ve not got a first aid kit anymore, but I can wipe you down as best I can. Is that alright, if I do that?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I’ll be
gentle, I promise.”

  I pulled a shirt from my bag and gently wiped her face down. I cleaned her hands as best I could. I could see where the blood was coming from now; her forehead was completely split open, and she had a number of deep scratches around her eyes.

  “There was a lot of blood. It looked worse than it is. But we need to get you stitched up. Come on. We’ll go slowly, and if you need to stop at any time, just tell me. It doesn’t matter if it takes us all day to get there.”

  We found our way to the hospital with ease—it was clearly signposted far out from the city centre—but we stopped many times for Malia to rest. She was dizzy, and as we walked, her shivers returned and she twitched, and called out, and made less and less sense. And she no longer seemed to hear me, or, at least, didn’t seem to comprehend what I was saying.

  By the time we reached the hospital, her shivers were convulsing her whole body and I was worried that it might cause her to start bleeding again.

  I stared at the front doors of the hospital. It was busy, with a constant stream of people going in and out. Ambulances hummed past us, taxis, buses. And there were officers here too. Lots of officers. I looked at Malia. I didn’t have a choice. We started to walk towards the building.

  I jumped as someone grabbed hold of my arm, and span round to face Tian.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “You’re not taking her in, are you?” he said.

  I gestured to her bloodied face. “Yeah, I was thinking about it.”

  He placed his arm around my shoulders and turned me around. I grabbed hold of Malia and she trailed along beside us as Tian led us away.

  “She needs medical attention,” I said.

  “I know. But you can’t take her in there. Even I can see she’s got the shivers, and badly by the looks of it. They’ll take her away from you. Do you even have papers for her?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then you’ll end up in jail too.”

  “So what do I do? Look at her.”

  “I’ll sort her. But first, we need to find somewhere we can have some privacy. You can’t just walk around the streets with a topped out smudger with no documents.”

  We had no choice but to head for a safehouse; even if we’d found somewhere that would rent a room to a trader, there’s no way they would have let Malia in in her state.

  Safehouses didn’t tend to ask questions, and they didn’t tend to turn anyone away, especially when they made a substantial ‘donation’. We even managed to get a private room.

  “How much did you bribe him?” I whispered to Tian.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I’ll pay you back.”

  Tian waved a hand at me. “My treat.”

  “I insist.”

  “Just get her as comfortable as you can, and I’m going to go get some medical supplies. Lock the door behind me. Don’t go anywhere, and don’t let anyone in that door. Let’s just hope no one reports us.”

  I locked the door as he’d instructed, and lay Malia down in one of the beds. I lay next to her and stroked her hair.

  “He’ll be back soon,” I said. “Then we’ll get you better.”

  “He’ll be back,” Malia repeated.

  Her eyes were beginning to droop, so I slipped off the bed and left her to rest.

  Underneath the window was a small bookcase and I crouched down to browse the titles. There were several books on Arukumbi history, some herbology books, and various books about the art of memory trading: ‘Finding Peace with Other People’s Memories’, ‘More Art Than Science’, ‘Extracting Memories from Children’ (a practice that wasn’t exactly banned in the colonies, but very much discouraged). There was even a book called ‘Extracting Memories from Animals’. I smiled. Some people were insane. Turned around to display its pages rather than its spine was a copy of ‘The Secrets of the High’. I flicked it open. It had been violently defaced, with almost every page scrawled with corrections, or insults, or juvenile sexual images. So much for non-censorship of the arts. I put it back as I had found it.

  Someone knocked on the door, and I spun around.

  “It’s me,” came Tian’s voice. “Let me in.”

  He came in with a full bag, a pharmacy logo printed on the side.

  “How much did that cost?” I asked. “I will definitely pay you back for that.”

  “Then your debt’s already settled, because I got it all for free.” He flashed me a smile.

  He crossed to the bed and placed a hand on Malia’s shoulder. She rolled over onto her back and looked up at him.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

  “He’ll be back,” Malia said, reaching up to touch Tian’s face.

  “That’s right. I’m back. So let’s get you all fixed up.”

  Tian worked in silence, biting his bottom lip with concentration throughout. Malia sat relatively calmly, but she was unable to control her twitching and occasional vocal outbursts. Tian, however, treated her with such gentleness and patience, and showed no sign of being annoyed by her inability to keep still.

  “All done,” he said, turning her around to face me. The gash in her forehead had been expertly sewn and taped, the scratches had been rubbed with cream, and the bigger ones taped across. She wouldn’t have been treated any better if I had taken her to the hospital. He handed her a glass of water. “Drink that and have a lie down. You need to get some sleep. Let your body heal.” He tucked her under the covers and smoothed her hair back from her face.

  18

  SENETSU

  Sitting in possibly the most comfortable armchair I’d ever sat in, I spent most of the morning dozing in and out of sleep. We’d spent every day walking for so long now that my body simply didn’t know what else to do with this stillness.

  Omori divided her time between playing and watching TV, and Saji seemed to have completely disappeared into a romance novel. I’d never known him read fiction before, and I smiled at his surprising immersion into it.

  “I need to get up,” I said. “If I sit here any longer I’m actually going to become part of this chair.”

  I stretched, my shoulders and back cracking in several places.

  “You really did need to move,” Saji said.

  “Or I’m just getting old.”

  He pointed a finger at me. “Just remember that I didn’t say that.”

  Mrs Rido appeared in the doorway. “Look at the three of you. So relaxed and well-rested.”

  “Yes, it was exactly what we needed,” I said.

  “Would you like some lunch, or do you have other plans?”

  “We only paid for bed and breakfast,” Saji said.

  She waved her hands at us. “Never mind that. It’s nothing fancy anyway, just soup and sandwiches, but there’s far too much for just me, so you’re more than welcome to some.

  I cocked my head at Saji.

  “Yes, thank you, that would be lovely,” he said.

  “I’ll call you when it’s ready. Around ten minutes if that’s alright?”

  “That’s perfect, thank you,” I replied.

  Mrs Rido nodded and disappeared.

  “Isn’t that nice of her?” I said, turning to Saji.

  “Really nice of her. And to think we could’ve ended up in a stinky safehouse.”

  “Or bedding down in another barn.”

  Saji groaned. “Anything but that. I don’t think I can stand another night breathing in the stench of cows.”

  I spluttered with laughter. “Remember that time you woke up to one chewing your hair?”

  Saji laughed. “And I remember the day that little boy walked in and saw us sleeping there. Remember? I’ve never heard a child scream so loud.”

  “No wonder his father came running with his gun already loaded. He must’ve thought we were killing the lad.”

  “Even when he saw us I don’t think it eased his panic any.”

  “No, I’m surprised we didn’t end up with bullets
in our buttocks.” I grinned. “Y’know, I’m absolutely starving now we’re thinking about lunch.”

  “Mmmm, me too.”

  “Me three,” said Omori.

  “Have you had a nice day so far?” I asked, crouching down to her.

  She nodded hesitantly. “I wish Kioto was here.”

  I sighed. “Mrs Rido’s nice, isn’t she?”

  She nodded again, her curls bouncing. “Is Kioto coming to play? Is she still in bed?”

  “Kioto’s not here.” I looked up at Saji. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

  He nodded and picked his book back up.

  As I stepped out into the hallway I could smell lunch, and my stomach rumbled impatiently. The small downstairs toilet was like the rest of the guest house; tidy, clean, sweet smelling, and decorated with frills, lace, and flowers. It was all a little old fashioned, but in a cosy, homely way, not a garish one.

  As I came out and headed back towards the guest lounge, Mrs Rido intercepted me.

  “Oh, is lunch ready?” I asked her.

  “Very soon, dear, very soon. I just wanted to talk to you about your daughter first. She’s enjoyed it here, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes, she has.”

  “Enjoyed the toys, the bed. Enjoyed the rest, I’ll bet. And having a bit of stability. Children need stability, don’t they? Somewhere they know is safe, a home that they know will always be there.”

  “Yes, that’s what we want for her. And once we get to—”

  “Life on the road is no life for a little one,” Mrs Rido interjected. “And I know you want the very best life for her that you can. That’s what any mother wants.”

  “Yes, of course—”

  “And that’s a life that she can have, right here in Akimori.”

  “We’re not staying in—”

  “Now, I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of horror stories about the Liberation Scheme, but it really is a very positive thing for the children.”

  I instinctively backed away, but found my heels against the skirting board in just a few steps.

  “They will have a stable home. No more travelling, no more uncertainty, no more living as outcasts. Your little one will benefit from a proper education, proper access to healthcare, and a good, clean, secure home. Isn’t that all we want for our children?”