by Jen Minkman
When I step into the foyer, I spot a nicely-dressed lady behind a sort of desk. She must be the receptionist.
“Good afternoon,” she greets me with an inquisitive look in her eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”
I stand a little bit straighter. “No, I don’t, but I was sent here by the Bookkeeper,” I hear myself say in a tone of voice I hadn’t expected to use at all. “My name is Alisa. I was engaged to the Bookkeeper’s son before he died, and now, I am the Bookkeeper’s acting assistant.”
The woman nods briefly. “I will fetch the Eldest,” she says, indicating a row of chairs to the left of her desk. “Please, have a seat.”
When the Eldest makes an appearance at last, I was about to give up hope. I guess he wasn’t near, or busy, or both. With hurried steps, he comes up to me and shakes my hand.
“Welcome, Alisa,” he says. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I was in the middle of a rather heated meeting.”
“Oh?” I cock my head. “What about?”
“Well, let’s just say that it hasn’t exactly been easy for us since Leia decided to turn our world upside down together with Walt and Tony.” He leads me to his study and continues to talk on our way there. “Young and old fight each other. Some parents got so fed up with their children that they told them to move out again. The youngsters can’t get used to parental rules anymore. One week ago, a small group of about twenty youngsters decided to leave Newexter altogether. They went north and started a new village there called Newmanor.”
“And the parents agreed to let them go?” I muse.
The Eldest nods, a frown knitting his gray eyebrows together. “It’s not as crazy as it sounds. After all, we were all raised with the idea that a ten-year-old is an adult person.”
“And those children in Newmanor are that young, too?
“No, not them. The youngest is fifteen and the eldest is seventeen, from the top of my head. To be honest, I’m rather relieved they left. The youngsters and their parents were at each other’s throats. The situation became untenable.”
I raise an eyebrow almost imperceptibly. Is he really that surprised that those fifteen-year-olds got into fights with their parents? Everyone knows that’s a difficult age. On the other hand, they might not know that here. How would they? Children move out before they even get to that rebellious phase in their lives. What word had Tony used for it again? Puberty, or something to that effect.
“Is that where Saul went?” I inquire.
“No. Saul keeps a low profile. Besides, the Newmanor group wants nothing to do with him. Saul took up residence in a deserted part of the woods behind the burial grounds. Just like those two priests from Hope Harbor, by the way. They come into Newexter every now and then to do some groceries, but that’s about it as far as socializing goes.”
“The burial grounds?” I echo. What exactly do they bury there?
The Eldest smiles faintly. “Yes, we bury our dead. You people use boats, don’t you?”
I nod curtly. “Speaking of boats,” I start hesitantly. “That’s the reason I’m here.” I take a seat across from Newexter’s leader and start explaining about the trouble we’ve experienced in Hope Harbor. My voice is subdued when I tell him of the religious group looking to sabotage the creation of our own fleet. “And so Ben said it might be possible for us to move the shipyard to this part of the island,” I surmise. “Now that our own harbor is no longer safe.”
“Sounds good to me,” the Eldest nods. “I think it would be good for the people here to have a distraction – some kind of new project to focus on. So we can forget for a while about the fact that our most cherished stories aren’t true. If I’m not mistaken, there are quite a few handy boys and girls who can help you out. If you send over some skilled workers, I’ll make sure to provide some youngsters to do the easy chores. Maybe we can even turn it into a school project.”
“Great!” I beam at him. “Our supervisor has already decided which men to send, so they’ll be here soon.”
“Why did you come alone?” the Eldest asks curiously.
I shake my head. “I didn’t. Ben was with me, but he dashed off as soon as we got to the village square. He didn’t even tell me where he went. Probably scared of bumping into old acquaintances. That’s what happened during the Harvest Holiday, too.”
The old man nods understandingly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Ben decided to pay his brother a visit.”
“Well, I would,” I blurt out. “Only this morning, he told me that Saul is a criminal and he’s afraid of him.”
“Saul is the only person Ben has got left,” the Eldest softly replies. “The rest of the ruling class in the manor turned their backs on him and Saul when everything went to pieces. It was easy for Saul’s minions to walk away and start over. Ben can’t walk away, however. Saul is his brother, his father and his mother. And his only friend.”
“That’s not true,” I protest. “I’m his friend too.” And I realize it’s true – I’m not just helping him out of pity. I really think Ben is a nice guy, in the rare moments when he’s not in some kind of grump.
The Eldest smiles. “That’s good to hear. Now go find him. I’m going to talk to some people who can help in our little harbor. First we need to chop down some tall trees, I reckon.”
“How do I get to Saul’s house?”
He gets up. “Behind the village hall is a small track leading past the burial grounds. After you’ve passed the graveyard you’ll hit the forest. Keep going until you get to a clearing.”
So Ben really did run off to visit his brother – that’s the exact direction in which he went. “Thanks,” I mumble.
My stomach feels tense when I step out the door and follow the path Ben has taken. I’m on my way to visit a former dictator. He’s only a young man, but still – suddenly I feel anxious. Will Saul get angry with me if it turns out Ben isn’t here to stay? I’m from the other side of the Wall, after all, from a world he didn’t want to believe in. A world that has taken his baby brother away from him.
It’s cooler under the trees. I take the leather cord out of my plaited hair and let the wind caress my blonde tresses. The wind feels different here – softer, somehow. It doesn’t howl like it does on our side, always torturing the rocky face of the cliffs with violent force, fighting to subdue the gray stone and make it crumble into the wild sea.
On the map that Nathan showed me once, I saw that the west coast of our island looks out over a sea so endless and wide that it doesn’t surprise me our history told us the horizon was out of reach. Tony called it the ocean instead of the sea. And the east coast of Tresco faces the mainland. How odd that it was always the easterners who didn’t believe in salvation coming from across the Waters. Their harbor is the most perfect place to sail away and see the rest of the world.
When I asked Tony what was on the other side of the ocean, he admitted he didn’t know. Even though he has made our world so much bigger, the mainland of Cornwall certainly isn’t everything there is to see. Who knows, there might be people somewhere in this world who have lives so different from our own that we can’t even image what they’re like.
I am so submerged in thought that I suddenly realize I’m already in the clearing that the Eldest told me about. Two cabins catch my eye, one slightly bigger than the other. The two ex-priests from Hope Harbor are nowhere to be seen. Fortunately, I might add – I don’t think I ever want to lay eyes on those two again.
Outside the smaller hut is a tall, young man with broad shoulders and black hair, fixing me with his gaze. His equally dark eyes follow me and don’t look away as I approach his house with uncertain steps.
“Hi,” I say, raising a hand in greeting.
He doesn’t speak, letting his eyes bore into mine.
“Alisa,” he finally breaks the silence when I stop in front of him. His voice is deep and a bit husky. A shiver runs down my spine. Only now do I understand why everybody in that manor house was terrified of him. Saul has a certain a
ir of power and aggression about him. His eyes convey his Jesse-may-care attitude.
“Yes?” I gulp down the nerves in my throat when his eyes narrow.
And then, something completely unexpected happens. The corners of his mouth pull up in a smile, and it is a genuine smile, a smile that shows me Saul can be different, too. “So you’re Ben’s friend?” he continues. “Thanks for helping him settle in.”
“Uhm, you’re welcome,” I stammer. If he’s so grateful, then why did he shoot me that dark look before? “Ben is a nice kid.”
A silence follows my words. “Not really,” Saul comments drily.
I bite my lip. “Well, maybe not just yet. But he can be. He’s getting there.”
“I suspect he’s got you to thank for that. I’m happy about it.”
“You didn’t exactly look happy,” I mumble a bit sarcastically. “When I entered your clearing just now.”
“Well. I’m not known as Mr Happy Face in these parts.”
“Hm. I get that.” I look past him to the small hut he has built for himself. Picking a location where no one from his old life will find him. Then, my gaze drifts back to his eyes, still quietly observing me. “You must have felt alone a lot,” I add gingerly.
His eyes soften, as if he can’t help losing himself in an inner world only few people have ever glimpsed. “I had Ben,” he says. “That was the most important thing. And I do feel better knowing now that there’s more besides just this island. I feel less lost.”
“Oh yeah?” I eye him skeptically. “Is that why you’re hiding out in the forest?”
Saul takes a step back. “I’m not hiding,” he mutters. Now he sounds just like Ben. “Everybody knows where I live. If they want to speak to me, they know where to find me.”
“So? Anybody show up yet?”
His shoulders slump a bit. “No,” he says.
“Never?”
“No. Why would they?”
The wind rustles the canopy of leaves above our heads. I don’t have the answer to his question. “Why don’t you pack up and move to Hope Harbor too?” I ask at last.
His mouth tightens. “Because Ben doesn’t want me to.”
“He told you that?”
“Not specifically.” Saul takes a deep breath before turning toward the cabin door. “No, I’m fine here. Ben needs new people to hang out with. Care for a drink?”
“Sure,” I mumble. As Saul goes inside to pour me a cup of something, I spot Ben coming out of the tree line on the other side of the clearing, clasping a dead rabbit in one hand and a bow in the other. A quiver of arrows is slung across his shoulder.
“Hey, Alisa,” he calls out to me, looking ashamed. “I’m sorry I took off like that. I just…”
“It’s okay,” I cut him short. “I’m happy you went to see Saul.”
“How did your meeting with the Eldest go?” he inquires.
“He approved of our plan. We can take back some good news to Carl.”
At that moment, Saul steps outside and hands me a cup of juice. Then, he gives Ben a short nod of approval, a look of almost fatherly pride in his eyes when he sees the rabbit. “Good to see you haven’t lost your touch,” he says. “Are you two staying for dinner?”
Ben casts me a quizzical look and I nod slightly. “If you shoot a rabbit, you have to skin and prepare it too,” I tease him. “That’s how it’s done.”
While Ben grabs a knife and sits down for the task ahead, Saul sits down across from me and watches me as I start to peel the potatoes we need for the stew. “So, they know how to hunt for food on the other side of the Wall, too?” he says eventually, his eyes riveted on my fingers using the knife.
“Of course,” I snort. “You always pictured us just sitting around waiting for the Goddess to rain down food from the sky?”
Saul chuckles. “Actually, there’s a story in our library about a people dwelling in the wilderness who did just that. It wasn’t in the Book, but I did use it in my speeches. As an example of how things shouldn’t be done.”
I can’t help but laugh too. “Seriously? How strange. Who would do such a thing?”
And then I think of the Phileans, who are guilty of exactly this kind of behavior.
“Those people who sabotaged your new ship,” Saul replies calmly at that moment. “You thought Ben didn’t tell me why you came here?”
I look up and shoot him and Ben a semi-poisonous look. “Let me get this straight. The two of you have been gossiping about the Hope Harborers?”
Saul smiles faintly. “Oh, don’t take it so hard. At least we didn’t say anything nasty about you personally.”
“Gee, thanks.” I resist the urge to throw a wisp of potato peel into his smug face. Why is he yanking my chain like that? “You know, it wouldn’t have surprised me. If only you knew what kind of stories were being told about your people before the Wall was torn down.”
“Oh?” Saul cocks an eyebrow. “Do tell.”
“That you used to haunt the night dressed in your dark cloaks,” I say ominously. “That you used to snatch children away with your sharp claws, seeking them out with eyes that glowed in the dark, so you could tear them to shreds with your deadly talons.”
He stares at me, the mocking smile wiped off his face. “What a load of crap,” he mumbles, but his voice doesn’t sound like he thinks it’s nonsense at all.
Saul sounds like I sank my own talons into a sore spot he would have preferred to hide.
When we take off again in the late afternoon, I ask Ben the question that’s been bugging me all through lunch.
“You think I hurt Saul?”
Ben stares straight ahead. “Saul used to enjoy the fact that people were scared of him. But now there’s nobody left to scare with tales about the darkness.”
“But that’s a good thing, right?” I say.
“No,” Ben looks at me with empty eyes. “Now he can sense that the same darkness has taken him a long time ago.”
World Across The Waters
9 – Leia
My eyes stare unseeingly at the gray cobblestones of the square. The crowd that had gathered to watch Sam’s Purge has long dispersed, but I am rooted to the spot as though I will never be able to move again.
Walt has slipped his hand into mine. When I finally look aside, I can see tears in his eyes.
“What are we supposed to do?” I whisper.
“Nothing,” he quietly replies. “Try to be as friendly as possible to all the people we encounter. And whatever happens, avoid getting into a fight.” His voice trembles. Not from anger, but from fear.
The other people in our travel party have all poured out of the palace in the meantime. I watch as William talks to them one by one, explaining to them in hushed yet urgent tones what we have just witnessed. To be honest, I don’t even know what it was that we witnessed. A society touting peacefulness as the greatest good can’t possibly think this is normal?
“We need to talk,” Tony says, who never left our side.
“We certainly do,” Walt nods, his mouth set in a grim line.
“Not here, though.” Tony casts a look around the square, then walks over to William to pull him away from the distraught islanders. They all look ashen and perplexed, and I can’t say I’m surprised. One moment we’re guests in some kind of charitable paradise where the horn of plenty overflows with laughter, food and welcome, and the next we seem to have ended up in a living nightmare.
“Let’s meet up in front of the church tonight,” Walt calls out to the others. “Eight o’clock. Now please, just go with Harry and get yourselves a comfortable place for the night. Stay calm at all times. No shouting, running, or pushing. And no breaking the Dartmoor rules.”
The whole Tresco group just nods obediently, stunned into silence. They stare at the ground as they meekly trail behind Harry, while we three remain with Tony and worriedly watch the islanders shuffle away.
“I want to know what’s going on right now,” William says through g
ritted teeth. The look he shoots Tony speaks volumes. He’s lost his trust in Dartmoor City – even in Tony himself.
Our savior sticks to nodding quietly, leading us to a smaller building opposite the palace. Upon entering, we discover it’s some kind of restaurant where simple food and drinks are being served. We choose a table in the far left corner and sit down. The waitress who instantly shows up is quickly sent away to fetch some apple juice and fresh bread with cheese.
“I wouldn’t mind a beer right now,” Walt sourly comments, looking at his father. William nods in agreement.
“Beer?” Tony parrots.
“Yeah. It’s an alcoholic beverage made of barley,” I explain flatly.
Tony shakes his head. “We don’t consume alcohol in Dartmoor. It’s only used to disinfect wounds.”
“Because?” William wants to know.
“Alcohol consumption triggers violence.”
We are all quiet. “Yeah, I can imagine people don’t want to get drunk and lose their temper here,” Walt then comments sharply.
Tony looks at us one by one with a serious face. “I know it must all seem very strange to you, but there’s an explanation. After the old world was destroyed, new leaders emerged. People with ideals based on peace and nonviolence. People who wanted to make sure that wars like that would never be fought again.” He takes a deep breath. “Gideon, our first leader, believed that our community could only stay true to its ideals if we set out to destroy violence and aggression root and branch. That’s what his book, the New Testament, says. It taught us what Jesus thought of violence and animosity. He disapproved of those things. He even told us to love our enemies.”
“So does everybody agree with the way you’ve implemented this wisdom?” William inquires in total shock.
“All the people in our cities sign a manifest when they turn eighteen. In it, they promise they won’t use violence to solve conflict. And we carefully observe all children and teenagers under eighteen to find out if there are any aggressive ones among them, so we can educate them. Should someone turn to violence after they signed the manifest, he or she is Purged, so our society remains true to its norms and values. And this way, violent tendencies are also weeded out because the aggressors won’t pass them on to any offspring.”