Kenobi

by John Jackson Miller

  Leelee looked around. The afternoon crowd was always thinnest during harvesttime. The store was empty, except for old Erbaly Nap’tee, poking through a basket of remnants. “Didn’t Erbaly offer to help?”

  “No, but she asked me to help her,” Annileen said, drying her hands on her overalls. “I’m pleased to say I know what’s in inventory even in midair.” She turned the fallen bucket upright and searched for the mop, as if nothing had ever happened.

  Leelee marveled. “You decided to wash the ceiling—alone.”

  “Putting up sealant, actually,” Annileen said. “You guys did a good job cleaning up after the raid, but I wanted to get at those blaster score marks on the pourstone before they caused cracks.”

  “What, in thirty years?”

  Annileen shrugged. “I have the time now.” She started mopping.

  Mystified, Leelee walked back to reclaim her packages. “Good thing I came. Though, if you’d kept that activator on you, you could’ve set off the Settlers’ Call.”

  “That would’ve gone over well with everyone in the fields, for sure,” Annileen said. “I can see the holo now: Woman Summons Militia to Save Her from Own Stupidity.”

  Giving the floor up for later, Annileen walked behind the counter. She looked in wonderment at the stack of packages Leelee had brought to ship. Leelee was a talented sculptor in her spare time, specializing in primitive designs; she had customers on worlds all over the Outer Rim. “How do you find these people?” Annileen asked.

  “Ex-boyfriends,” the Zeltron said, smiling primly. She ran a crimson finger down a digital list of names on the manifest she was holding. “They’re all still fans.”

  “Of your work—or you?”

  “An artist tries not to ask,” Leelee said. “You could use a hobby yourself, Annie. You’ve been a bundle of energy for the last few weeks. What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” Annileen said, processing the packages. Leelee was right, of course. Just during the last couple of weeks, Annileen had changed the layout of the packaged goods section, helped Kallie re-fence the dewback run, and streamlined the store’s accounting procedures. That morning, she had built a new table by hand especially for Bohmer and his new hoverchair, when he finally got the okay to return and resume his caf intake. If the facts of her life hadn’t changed in recent days, she’d made sure it felt like a whirl, all the same.

  “I know what’s wrong,” Leelee said.

  “No advice requested, Leelee.” Annileen stopped transcribing. “Look, I get it. The big things in my world are never going to change. But there’s a lot of little stuff I can fix, and I might as well get to it.”

  “Phooey on that,” Leelee said. “I say you haven’t seen Ben since he ran out of here that time, and it’s driving you up the wall. And onto the ceiling,” she added.

  Annileen rolled her eyes. “Really,” she said icily. “What makes you think that?”

  “Because you’ve just given my latest masterpiece a shipping label for something called the ‘Kenobi system.’ ”

  Annileen looked at the letters she’d absentmindedly printed and blushed. “Oops.”

  “It’s okay,” Leelee said, gesturing to the mislabeled package. “It is a fertility statue.”

  “That’s all I need.” Annileen laughed. She shook her head and corrected the label. “Okay. I admit it. It bothers me that he never came back.”

  She’d almost lost track of how long it had been since the Tusken attack—and the crazy, surreal day after. The visit by “Master Boopa.” The strange change in Orrin’s behavior toward her. And Ben’s vanishing act upon becoming the center of attention. He hadn’t returned since.

  “I guess we scared him off,” she said. Newcomers were like that, sometimes. They didn’t know the locals gossiped about every new arrival, just to forget about them when someone else came along. She’d even avoided adding any more fuel to the fire by keeping to herself their desert encounter with the Tusken matriarch. It had worked. Only two people had even mentioned Ben to Annileen recently. Orrin asked occasionally whether he had returned. And Kallie asked the same thing, only every five minutes.

  Orrin appeared in the hallway from the garage. Annileen saw him give a moment’s glance to the scaffold before disappearing into his office without a word.

  “That’s another weird one,” she whispered to Leelee. Orrin’s best behavior around Annileen had been a thing of wonder lately; it was the new story captivating the regulars’ attention. “You want to talk to someone, talk to him.”

  Leelee snorted and made a pronouncement. “Annie, my friend, Ben is exactly what you’ve needed.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Because you’ve kept Orrin at arm’s length for years,” Leelee said. “And he got used to it. But now that there’s another suitor for Princess Annie, he’s got to make his move.”

  Annileen cast a horrified glance at the office door. “I don’t want him to make his move!”

  “Is that so?” Leelee smirked. “I think you want Orrin interested—so it’ll force your mystery man to do something.”

  “You’re mentally ill,” Annileen said. “Seriously, what is it with you Zeltrons? You’d matchmake for droids, if they’d listen.”

  “They do listen, Annie. That’s why there are so many droids.”

  Annileen groaned. This really wasn’t what she needed—or was looking for. Things were fine with Orrin as they were. Well, no they aren’t. But Orrin was more an older brother—or, sometimes, a third child. He had been Dannar’s friend, and that was how she still saw him. Why did he want that to change now?

  She started to say something when Leelee shushed her. Orrin emerged from the office, having changed his shirt and neatened his hair after his day in the fields. He saw the women and smiled. “How are my favorite people today?”

  “One of us was nearly burying the other,” Leelee said, gesturing to the scaffold. “You’ve got to get Annie out of this place before she starts alphabetizing the oil cans.”

  Beaming, Orrin strolled behind the counter. “Have no fear. Orrin Gault has the plan, and it’s in motion already.” He put his arm around Annileen and gave her a half hug. “You’re getting tomorrow off.” He grinned down at her. “Happy birthday.”

  Annileen pulled away. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve just talked with Tar Lup,” he said, referring to the Calwells’ onetime assistant. “He’s got some time off from his place in Eisley, and I’ve convinced him to spend tomorrow here, watching the store.”

  “Why can’t Jabe—” Green eyes stared, suspicious. “Wait. Where will I be?”

  “Mos Eisley. You deserve a day in the city,” he said. “And I want you to take the whole family. Kallie can close up the livery—nobody’s around right now, anyway.” His eyes narrowed. “Take Jabe, too. Maybe if you spend more time together as a family, things will improve.”

  Stupefied, Annileen looked to Leelee. The Zeltron was wide-eyed, listening with rapt attention. “You’re going with us, I suppose?” Annileen asked Orrin.

  “Oh, no,” he said, fishing around in his pocket. “Not with the harvest!”

  “Right.” She looked at him, still not fathoming his intent. “Why Mos Eisley?”

  Orrin found what he was looking for: a small sealed envelope. “Here,” he said. “It’s the other part of your surprise, to make sure you go. Open it this evening.”

  Annileen took the envelope. “What are you up to, Orrin?”

  The farmer laughed. “Just make sure I’m around when you open it.” He winked at Leelee and stepped out from behind the counter.

  “My birthday’s the day after tomorrow,” Annileen said.

  “This offer is good for tomorrow only,” Orrin proclaimed, walking toward his office. “I’ve spent all afternoon making the plans. Don’t send poor Tar away!” The door closed behind him and locked.

  Leelee clutched for the envelope. “Give me that! I want to see!”

  “No!” Annil
een said, pulling it away. She felt dizzy. What in the world is going on now?

  Meditation

  I had the dream again.

  It was like I’ve described before. I wasn’t myself. But I saw the world through—something. A tunnel, a filter. And then I heard a scream.

  You’re tired of hearing about this dream, I expect—I’ve had it once a week since coming to Tatooine. I always wake in wonder. I always feel it’s about Anakin somehow.

  Only the last couple of editions have changed some. The tunnel is narrower, brighter. Normally the view is hazy and red. This time it was almost like seeing through—well, a Tusken’s eyes, as strange as that sounds.

  And hearing the scream didn’t hit me as hard, this time. I felt more apart, aloof. In the past, it’s had more of an effect on me. I don’t know what it means.

  I’m worried the dream represents the smothering of light in the galaxy, and my own misgivings about being far from the scene. Could I really stay here so long that I no longer feel the cries of those Palpatine harms?

  Don’t worry, Qui-Gon—I’m not speaking this out loud. I’m still ashamed at what you must think of that horrendous blunder, when I was overheard. You must think I’m a Padawan all over again.

  But I know how it happened. I’ve been focusing too hard on trying to contact you, trying to replicate the feelings I was having that time you spoke to Yoda and me. I was trying to separate myself mentally from my surroundings, and because of that, I didn’t sense Kallie’s approach.

  It doesn’t seem that the girl overheard anything too revealing—or saw me holding Anakin’s lightsaber. The Force was with me there. And there are apparently a number of people around whose names sound like Kenobi, so nobody’s drawn the connection. Yet.

  Still, I can’t take any more chances. I was getting too drawn into the lives of the people at the oasis. It’s ironic. You were the one who always told me to focus more on the living Force—the lives of those around us now, rather than the big picture that Master Yoda ascribed to. Living here, getting involved in this little world, with its little dramas? It’s been enlightening.

  I missed all this while rushing about to save the galaxy. Seeing that, for many people, the smaller struggles are just as important to them as our larger ones are to us. It was a good lesson for me to learn.

  But it has to end there.

  So I’m strictly confining my travels to my mission. I checked on the boy earlier this week; the farm seems fine. I managed to steer clear of Owen Lars this time. The man doesn’t like me at all.

  And I’m going to keep working on the house. I have to do something about this coolant unit, which I think was built in the time of Arca Jeth. But don’t worry—there are other stores on Tatooine besides the Claim. Not many, but they exist …

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ANNIE!”

  Annileen waved back from the window of the speeder truck. “Thanks!”

  There wasn’t any point in telling the farmhand that her birthday was still a day away. Everyone who’d visited the Claim since the night before had heard the reason for her journey. And harvest workers on three previous hillsides had already yelled the same greeting to her, all of them excited for her.

  Annileen was excited, too. Dressed nicely, she was heading to Mos Eisley, her daughter in the passenger seat and son in back—and none of them had argued yet at all. It was a birthday miracle.

  They were in the LiteVan II today. Dannar had brought the retired SoroSuub model back into service the year they married, and it still handled most of the heavy work for the Claim. Orrin had needed his USV-5 landspeeder back for some reason, but Annileen didn’t mind. She was still reeling, not quite believing the contents of the envelope Orrin had given her. Jabe and Kallie were discussing it in the darkened cab, now.

  “I’ve been telling you Orrin’s a great guy,” Jabe said.

  “I guess I was wrong,” Kallie said. His older sister, also cleaned up in colorful clothes from off the rack, read from the gold-colored slip in the light from the window. “To Annie. This certificate good for …”

  “… Ben!”

  Annileen glanced at her daughter, startled. “What?”

  “There!” Kallie said, lowering the document and pointing out her window. “To the right! Ben Kenobi!”

  Annileen braked and banked the massive machine at the same time. Sure enough, Ben and Rooh came into her field of view.

  It was a comical sight, one that reminded her of her first visit to his place, and the angry bantha calf. Ben was on his hands and knees in the middle of a blasted plain, trying to talk to Rooh. The eopie was lying on her belly in the sand, legs folded underneath as she chewed on a lonely patch of desert foliage. Her harness was connected to a makeshift sledge, upon which sat a heavy and ancient coolant pump.

  Annileen pulled the LiteVan up alongside. “Going somewhere?” she asked.

  “That was the original idea,” Ben said. “It isn’t working out.”

  Annileen stopped the engine. Kallie went for her door latch. Jabe leaned over the front seat, aggravated. “Not again, Mom. This guy—”

  “Helped us, and needs help now,” Annileen said. “You just sit here and stay out of the suns.”

  When Annileen climbed out of the vehicle and onto the desert floor, Kallie was already there, trying her best to get Ben to notice her festive red outfit. But the cloaked man’s attention remained on his eopie.

  “Rooh just stopped,” Ben said. “She’s eating this—whatever it is.”

  “It’s desert sage,” Annileen said.

  “I didn’t think anything grew here.”

  “Something grows everywhere.” Annileen knelt next to him and stroked the lackadaisical eopie’s snout. “There, girl. It’s all right.”

  Seemingly discomfited by Annileen’s proximity, Ben stood up and gestured to the cargo. “I can’t seem to get her to move. I keep thinking I’ve attached the sledge wrong.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Annileen said.

  “Then she’s just objecting to carrying extra weight,” Ben said, standing over the prone animal.

  “That’s for sure,” Kallie said. She tried to stifle a chuckle, and failed. Annileen gestured for her to pipe down, but found herself smiling, too.

  Ben stared at them, mildly flustered. “I’m missing something, aren’t I?”

  “No, you’re getting something,” Annileen said, kneeling beside the animal and touching her abdomen. “In a couple of days, it looks like.”

  “You can’t mean …” Ben looked at Rooh’s midsection, flabbergasted. “Pregnant?” He stammered. “That’s simply not possible. I only have one eopie!”

  “Not for long,” Kallie said, snickering.

  Annileen scooted over and felt Rooh’s abdomen. “How long have you had her?”

  Ben shuffled. “Er—I don’t recall. I bought her some time ago.” His brow furrowed. “You don’t think this—er, happened at the oasis, do you?”

  Kallie burst out laughing.

  Annileen smiled, too, but looked down so as not to embarrass Ben any further. “Eopie gestation times are a bit longer than that. It looks like you got two for the price of one on that purchase.”

  “One cannot cast blame in matters of love,” Ben said. “Or whatever.” He cracked a smile, in spite of himself, and knelt. He rubbed the animal’s face. “You’ve been keeping secrets, my little friend!”

  “Congratulations, Grandpa,” Annileen said.

  With Kallie’s help, Annileen removed the harness from Rooh’s back. Freed, the animal stood up and resumed chomping on the weed. Annileen looked at the coolant unit. “Pretty beat up,” she said.

  “It’s seen use,” Ben said.

  “In the Great Hyperspace War, maybe.” Annileen shook her head. “I’ve never seen a coolant pump this old.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I was hoping they’ve seen one at the repair shop in Bestine.” He gestured to the east.

  “You’re goi
ng to another store?” Kallie said, eyes filling with dismay.

  “People are like that, sweetie,” Annileen said. “Give them a discount once and they’ll never respect you again.”

  A snarky voice bellowed from inside the darkened window of the LiteVan. “You won’t get that fixed in Bestine!”

  Ben looked at Annileen and raised an eyebrow.

  Annileen rolled her eyes. “My son. The other hermit.” She walked to the speeder truck and slapped the window frame. “How do you know that, Jabe? You haven’t even seen it!”

  Jabe peeked out at them. “The supply shop in Bestine is closed. The Geelers’ son is getting married. They’ll be gone for a week.”

  Ben looked worriedly up at the suns and then down at the damaged unit. He swallowed. “A week, you say?”

  “Or more,” Jabe said, vanishing back into the darkness of the backseat. “The wedding is on Naboo. They decided to make a vacation of it.”

  “How wonderful for them,” Ben said, deflated.

  Kallie grabbed at her mother’s arm, nearly knocking her down. “Mom! Ben can come into Mos Eisley with us!”

  “Mos Eisley?” Ben’s face froze. He looked to the east, his expression apprehensive. “I don’t need to go to Mos Eisley!”

  Jabe’s voice called out again. “Hear that? He doesn’t need to go to Mos Eisley.”

  “You hush,” Annileen said. She looked back at the coolant pump. “You can get same-day service there,” she said.

  Ben waved his hands. “No, no. I’m sure you’re on a supply run. You’ll need room—”

  Kallie bubbled with enthusiasm. “No, it’s fine! We’re not carrying anything!”

  “You’re not?”

  “No! No!” Annileen’s daughter found the document in her pocket and thrust it toward Ben. “Read this!”

  Without taking the slip from the girl’s hand, Ben read aloud the hand-printed words. “To Annie: This certificate is good for a SoroSuub JG-8 luxury landspeeder, at Delroix Speeders of Mos Eisley. Ask for Garn. Sorry for all the trouble with your family speeder, hope this makes up for it.” Ben paused before concluding: “Happy birthday. Love, Orrin.”