Chapter 18
Gax’s mouth is dry, but his eyes are not. He can feel the hot tears burning, making his eyes sting. He still stares at the entrance to the path that the old lady took, even though her shuffling figure has disappeared. He swallows, licks his lips, blinks his eyes rapidly, then just lets his head drop back onto the hard backrest of the wooden bench. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears to stay in. His ears make a buzzing noise, blocking everything out, and all he can hear are the woman’s parting words. Gax tries to take deep breaths, but each breath is shuddering, and more like a sob than the previous one. He is so upset. He finally meets another believer, just to find out that she is off Downstream tomorrow. He feels dizzy, trying to process all she told him. About her husband being sent beyond the hills, for good. Her words encouraging him to stay different, to spread the words of the Book.
Gax groans softly. Why me, why now, why should she be leaving tomorrow, why… He sighs, it feels so wrong. The one person who he meets in this place, the one person who knows and loves the Book, who would support him, that one person is now taken away from him. He is all alone again. In fact, he feels more alone than ever, as if the tiny taste of fellowship has made him more hungry for likeminded company than he was before. He promises himself to never take lightly other believers or times of being together ever again. “God, I just wished…” He stops again, not knowing what he wants really. Self efficacy is definitely overrated, he decides.
Just when his heart rate is getting back to normal, his eyes feeling only a little damp, a triumphant voice hisses right in his face. “I knew it! I knew you came for a reason! You were different, people like you always are! Caught you, haven’t I!” Gax sits up, his neck almost whiplashed, eyes wide open. It is the guard, looking angry and pleased at the same time. Gax gasps, swallowing in words he was about to blurt out, his frazzled brain shrieking warnings. “Be honest, but be wise,” his mind screams, making the guard’s next few words only half audible. “…the praying kind, meditating, that sort of stuff.” He swallows, forcing his breath in and out slowly, counting, counting.
“It is hot,” he finally says, trying to sound apologetic, “and the fountain is soothing. I could easily have dozed off.” He shrugs, and tries to keep his face neutral. The guard leans back on his heels, stumpy thumbs looped through his belt. He stares hard at Gax, who looks back, words flitting through his mind. My Book, he thinks, they mustn’t search my house. Not yet, anyway. What if… He stops himself, concentrating on the guard. “I didn’t mean to trouble you,” he adds. The guard’s expression changes instantly. What was meant as a calming remark has the opposite effect.
“Why should that bother you?” The guard glares at him, hatred flowing from him in huge waves. “Who would care about my feelings, my job?” Gax swallows, groaning inwardly. “Nobody in all my years as a guard has ever bothered to even look at me, and when I catch you, you stare at me, smile at me, apologise to me…you are weird. You are the weirdest person in all of Elabi, and let me tell you I have met a lot of oddballs. You cap them all. You are different and it doesn’t fill me with fuzzy feelings. Not one bit it doesn’t.” He leans right into Gax’s face, enveloping him in the fishy smell. Gax nods, trying to breathe through his mouth without showing it. The guard steps back again, still looking at Gax, but the hatred has slowly drained away. “Yes,” he says, as if to convince Gax, “you definitely are different.” He stares and stares, without saying anything and Gax can hear Linu’s voice, “You can always pray.” In his mind Gax whispers prayers over the guard. In spite of the man’s hatred and anger, Gax feels his hurt underneath his statement.
Suddenly the guard drops on the bench next to him and in a softer voice hisses, “What makes you so different? I saw the fear, the shock, all the usual stuff I see everyday in my work. The one thing I always see is some weird glow, like you’re happy about something. It is as if you’ve some happy secret.” Gax feels the heat roll over his face. That is what the guard sees? That is what he feels makes Gax different? What does he say now?
Gax prays, then whispers back, “It is not a private secret. It’s about who owns my life, who gives me life, and that although I fail in life, mess up and do wrong, it doesn’t hold me back.” The guard looks at him, then rolls his eyes.
“People of the Book,” he growls. “Never change their mind. Wonderful, cheerful people, but it’s not my thing. I have been stationed beyond the hills and I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end. Not for a whole bunch of happy feelings.” Gax opens his mouth to protest but the guard waves his hand to stop him. “Don’t bother, kid, they have all tried. Like I said, not my thing. Seems to work well enough for you though.” Gax feels his eyes sting again, now from frustration. Finally a person asking him to give an account for the hope within him and then he is not interested! “Just be careful, kid. Like I said, you’re different, and it will get noticed. Nothing I or anyone else can do if you get landed into the muck.” He nods, gets up and walks off.
Gax looks at the fountain with its erased words and the whole mission feels pointless and hopeless. But he shakes himself, realising that God did protect him, softening the guard’s heart towards him, letting him off like that. The guard even seemed sympathetic, although hardened against Gax’s message. Gax almost feels like giving up, imagining the journey back home and his welcome there. That stops him. How can he tell the team that the mission failed after just one week and after only mentioning the message to one person. They would not be impressed, he knows. He will have to stay, but the incident has in a way helped to make him bolder and more determined. Gax stays a few minutes longer, then decides to go back home. The guard doesn’t look at him at all when Gax walks past, but hisses a hardly audible good luck. Gax raises his chin, nearly imperceptible, tempted for a split second to explain that it’s nothing to do with luck, but he leaves it.
The first thing Gax does on getting home is get his Book out, and look for a better hiding place. He looks around, upstairs and downstairs. In the end, he takes out his little emergency toolkit, and unscrews the back of the huge screen upstairs. Inside there is plenty of space for his Book. He slides it in, then very quietly screws the back on again. There, they will never find that, he grins. Downstairs he gets his notebook and pen out, and sits down to patiently record all the happenings of today. When describing the second run in with the old woman, Gax has to rub drops of salty moisture off the pages. He feels the sadness and loneliness all over again. His handwriting is the visible proof of his frustration when he describes the guard’s words and attitude. So close, he thinks, some interest, but not enough. In the end, he leans back and suddenly wonders which encounter made him grieve most.
Gax wakes up the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. He is determined to make this day count. He needs to, as his training was aimed at this moment in time, his mission. The encounters from the previous day have given him a little more confidence and he is hoping for new opportunities today. Maybe he will get to work on the till again dealing with customers. He still can’t think of a way to talk to Inritia and Grabus his manager, but maybe he should. After all, they are people of Elabi too. He wants to read the Book before going to work, but realises that although the large screen is a great hiding place, it also makes a quick read in his Book awkward. Time is short, so he decides to leave his Book where it is and instead mumbles some of the verses to himself whilst making breakfast and packing his lunch. He can’t say the verses out loud, because of Yulra, but he asks her to play his favourite music, reducing the chances of being overheard.
Walking to the city, Gax wonders if he will see ‘his’ guard today and what to do if so. The guards at the gate are looking their usual bored selves again, and it is very quiet on the streets. Gax is more careful in his timings, but still, he only sees the usual workers. The makers of garum et cetera obviously have left again and it’s only the usual city workers left. He raises his chin cheerfully at them. Some return the gesture, while others look at h
im with suspicious eyes. Gax is only marginally pleased with the effect. He isn’t blending in, as the old woman talked about, but he isn’t making a difference either. Not radically, at least. Near the shop he decides to be even bolder, and he not only raises his chin at the next woman, but also wishes her a very good day. She stares at him, raising her chin in a daze. She looks back several times and Gax actually finds himself grinning like the Cheshire cat. This is definitely a step up, he decides. He repeats his warm greeting to the next worker, who stops and looks at him, searchingly. Gax slows down, hoping a conversation might even start, feeling a tiny thrill in his stomach. He suppresses the urge to look round to check there is no guard or anyone else nearby, watching. The man stares, swallows, and whispers, “Why? Why are you telling me to have a very good day?”
Gax shrugs, trying to make it seem a normal, natural thing to do, to wish someone on the streets a good day, in a city where people are taught that every day is a good day anyway. “Just wishing you a smooth day,” he says, with a slight smile, “you know, just because some days are harder than others and it’s not as easy to see the good in your day. Hoping that today it will be easy to count your blessings.” The man’s eyes open wide at that, he swallows, giving a very nervous cough, glancing round furtively. Gax tenses up, he has no idea where this is going to lead. He notices his toes curling a little. Yes, he definitely hates sandals.
“Thanks,” the man whispers, so quietly, it’s more like a soft breath. “Thanks, I…I didn’t see much…um…blessing? Blessing this morning, so yeah, thanks.” The word blessing is obviously new to the man’s vocabulary, sounding stiff in coming off his tongue. Gax nods humbly, his light mood suddenly gone, realising that his light-hearted words, which were more out of bravado than genuine care for other people’s day, had touched the man’s heart. The man raises his chin, his eyes suddenly glistening and when Gax walks on, he finds his own eyes stinging as well. He is glad that he doesn’t meet anyone else till the shop, as he isn’t sure that his voice could be trusted to call out another hearty greeting.
Chapter 19
Gax is relieved to find the shop is open already. He is still thoughtful after the incident just now, as it has really encouraged him. He looks at Inritia, who is fiddling with her nails, tempted to say something cheerful to her, provoking her to think. But his courage stops short. Strangers are one thing, colleagues are altogether different. The story of the old lady doesn’t help either, as it was a close companion who betrayed her husband. He looks at her though, and in the end she looks up, her pretty face immediately twisted into a snarl. “What?” Her cat-like teeth appear and Gax finds it hard to not stare at them. “So even two days off hasn’t made you more normal,” she says, her voice nasty and sharp. Gax blushes, he can feel the warmth spreading over his face and for a few seconds he is tempted to say something equally unpleasant back to her, then his training kicks in, so he simply shrugs with a little smile.
“I’m a human being, not a sheep,” he grins mischievously, “ why be boring when you can be extra special?” Inritia huffs and rolls her eyes, but at least the cat-like teeth have disappeared. “So did you do something exciting on Hexaday?” Gax carries on, pretending she is keen to carry on the conversation. It goes very still in the little staff room, and Inritia seems to look past him. When Gax follows her looks he sees Grabus standing behind him. From the expression on his face he has heard the question and he doesn’t seem impressed. He can feel his hands go clammy and he carefully straightens his shoulders, standing taller without it being noticed. He raises his chin respectfully, but Grabus’ face doesn’t change at all. Gax swallows, wondering whether to remain silent, joke his way out of it, or just apologise for whatever rule he has broken this time.
“What do you mean by exciting,” Grabus growls at last, saving Gax from having to decide on a response. “Why do you need excitement, which is an emotional response to some external event.” His voice sounds almost as automated as Yulra’s at home. “I noticed you were different last week. Nothing seems to have improved on that score,” Grabus’ voice is sounding more important now, as if he is practising for Altiorem Status already. “Now you are trying to trip up fellow workers, causing Inritia here to think a person needs to look for excitement, when every day is already a good day.” He glares at Gax, as if he is an enemy, which he probably is, Gax thinks. He dips his head respectfully.
“I wasn’t thinking of excitement in that way,” he says, trying to use the calm voice his trainers said would diffuse an argument every time. “I was more thinking of doing something out of the routine, something one would do on Hexaday, but not any other day.” The trainers were wrong, Gax sees, for his bland voice doesn’t seem to make any difference. Grabus still glares, although Inritia has returned to her nails, looking bored. Gax thinks fast, trying to think of another way to sort this out. “I just enjoy a different routine and was looking for some suggestions,” he says, trying to smile, hoping it will look disarming. It works, a little. Grabus looks less angry, though still suspicious. When he stomps out of the staff room, Gax releases the breath he’d been holding. That was close, he thinks, his legs agreeing. Inritia looks up from her fingers and says out loud what he thought.
“That was close, you weirdo. Anyway, I went to the beach, with a few friends, making sure we got our tans started in time for summer. Hope that sounds exciting enough.” She manages to make exciting sound like a dirty word, then giving Gax another quick view of her funny teeth she sweeps out of the staff room. Gax takes a few seconds to regulate his breathing, a plan forming in his head. So people do go out with friends, there are ways of meeting up with others. He will need to find a way to do so, then come up with a plan to speak to the people he is with. He finds a clean cloth, a grubby shelf and his day has started. It’s a good day of course, but seeing the neglect of the shop makes him groan a little. Every single shelf is dirty, dusty, with books all over the place. Nobody bothers putting books back where they got them from, and in a way it’s satisfying to see the shelf transformed. The problem is that there are a lot of shelves.
Soon the first customers arrive and Gax feels annoyed when one younger man leaves a shelf looking like a hurricane has passed by. He feels like telling him off, explaining that it’s technically possible to look at books without causing chaos. It is almost as if the guy puts them back in the wrong place on purpose, Gax mutters. Do I look bored or something? Then he remembers his mission and actually makes his way over to the young man and says, with a slight smile, “May I help you? Are you looking for something in particular, or just browsing?” Another line he’s learned from his sister. His thoughts drift off, but Gax is brought back down to earth with a bump by the customer. The young man’s face is suddenly very close by and he doesn’t look grateful for help offered at all.
“Why are you asking,” he splatters every time he uses the ‘s’. “Do I look like a Mansit, are you saying I’m not supposed to see any of these here books, is that what you’re saying?” Gax tries to catch his breath, stunned by the response. What is wrong with a ‘no thanks, I’m fine’ kind of reaction? “What do you mean by browsing? Are you implying that I’m wasting my time, just flicking through titles? Is that what you’re saying?” The man is obviously not having a good day and looking at the shadowy beard, he’s not had a great morning so far. Not a reason to take it out on a helpful shop assistant, Gax thinks, but smiles apologetically. He tries to sooth the angry young man, but before he even has a chance to say anything the man is off again. “Why are you smiling like that? Are you laughing at me, mocking me?” His face is getting more and more red, “Can’t you tell I’m unhappy with you? Who would smile at an unhappy person, who?”
Gax is determined though and he raises a hand in a placating manner, and using his very calm voice (hoping the trainer was right after all) he says, “I was just trying to help, just asking, nothing more. Some people like having some assistance when they’re shopping, some people prefer to look around for thems
elves. That’s all. I just asked and I can tell you prefer to look for things yourself. That’s no problem.” He feels the polite smile return and curbs it before the young man throws another fit. The man stares at him, face still red, eyes narrowed .Gax shrugs in an apologetic way, taking a small step back while raising his chin imperceptibly. The young man hesitates, then abruptly turns back to the shelf, dismissing Gax. Gax turns back to his shelf, gripping the cloth a little tighter than usual, his breathing fast. It puzzles him, the way people take it as an affront whenever he is polite or helpful. He thinks back to the shop where he looked at the computers. That man had seemed helpful enough. Mind you, Gax had been questioned by security afterwards. He pulls a face. Elabi is getting on his nerves.
Gax is thrilled when he is told to man the tills during Inritia’s lunch break. Grabus is too busy preparing a meeting, Inritia tells him. Gax takes up his position gleefully. He feels he can do his work as an operator. He’s at the till, with no Inritia and Grabus obviously busy. He is disappointed that the shop is so quiet, it being a Onesday, but finally an older man comes to the counter. Gax raises his chin cheerfully, asking the man if he found what he was looking for. The man stares for a few seconds, then nods briefly. Gax smiles, tells the man the price, and hands over the book with another smile, wishing the man a very good remainder of the day. The man starts a bit, then glares suspiciously and quickly shuffles out. Gax manages to keep the smile in place till the man disappears out of sight, then sighs. The suspicious looks and angry glares are wearing.
Walled City (The Elabi Chronicles Book 1) Page 11