by Jen Minkman
He does have a point. Our new friend from Bodmin wouldn’t knowingly deceive us. An overconfident thought flashes through me – could it be I actually tapped into the Force to stop myself and Walt from getting sick? But how could I have? Our ancestors weren’t real, and so the Force can’t be real. I don’t get it. My head is spinning with all the day’s impressions.
“I’m going upstairs,” I announce, yawning loudly. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
“Aren’t you hungry?” Walt asks. “Because I am.”
“The kitchen is closed, but we still have some cakes in our room,” William reminds him.
“Good, then I’m going upstairs too.” Walt turns to me. “And then I’ll drop by yours.”
“Thanks.” I quickly swivel around before William can see me blush. In my old world, we wouldn’t have bumbled around like this – in all likelihood, I would have been engaged to Walt, and my parents wouldn’t have had anything to say about it. And yet, it makes me feel warm inside that someone seems to care about what the two of us are up to.
“You coming?” I ask quietly when we’re in the corridor, each pushing open the doors to our rooms.
“Let me grab the food,” Walt mumbles. Within a few seconds he’s back, holding a paper bag in one hand.
“You staying?” I ask, even more quietly, as he follows me and slowly closes the door behind him.
“You want me to?”
I nod.
His face crinkles up in a happy but nervous grin. “I’m happy Padma decided to stay in Dartmoor,” he says with a wink.
A shiver runs down my spine. “If only she’ll want to come back with us.”
“Of course she will.” Walt pulls me into a comforting embrace. “I can’t imagine she’ll be so eager to stay once we tell her it means she can never leave. It would mean she has to say goodbye to Tresco forever, and I don’t think she’s ready for that just yet.”
“Yes.” I sit down on the bed and hungrily dig into the cakes Walt has brought along. “That’s true. It will all work out, I guess.”
When I take off my cardigan and lie down, Walt takes out my precious find from the cathedral. He puts the cross on the table next to my bed and stares at it thoughtfully. “Beautiful artifact,” he says. “I can see why they send all those pilgrims over there to get treasures from Exeter.”
I rub my hand over his back. “I don’t know – possessions were never that important to me. We didn’t have much in the manor house, but we were never lacking.”
Walt stretches out next to me and looks at me from up close. “You didn’t lack anything at all?”
“Well.” I close my eyes. “We lacked love, I guess. Parental love. And of course I didn’t have a boyfriend before I met you.”
“So you have some catching-up to do?” he whispers playfully.
I open my eyes and gasp in mock-offense. “Don’t make me sound like a pathetic, lonely girl! Are you saying you were the town’s hotshot, girls drooling all over you?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “I must have missed all the drooling because I was so busy building my secret ship.”
“Good,” I laugh. “Or I wouldn’t have been here, together with you.”
And then, we stop talking, because I kiss him on the mouth and he hungrily kisses me back. All the dark thoughts I’ve had about Exeter, Dartmoor, and the strict laws in this new land fade into the background. I’m here, together with a boy who means the world to me, and that’s all I want to focus on right now.
The next morning, I wake up with the sound of a bird singing outside on the window sill, twittering enthusiastically to greet the rising sun. That is how the men working for our wake-up service in Newexter always woke up – the crowing rooster made sure they did. I’ve never understood how those animals manage to wake up at sunrise. Maybe the books from the old world contain that information.
I do regret not spending more time at the library, but I’m sure the president won’t mind giving us a few books as a present so the people on Tresco can read them too.
With a sigh, I turn around and look at Walt, who is still asleep. His blond hair is tousled and his mouth hangs slightly open. He is so sweet. I can’t stop a silly smile from spreading across my face as I watch him. This adventure would never have been the same without him.
A modest knock on the door interrupts my reverie. “Who’s there?” I ask, my voice still groggy from sleep.
“William,” comes the answer. “Tony used that strange device on my nightstand to tell me that breakfast is at nine. We’re leaving at ten.”
“All right.” I yawn, my gaze drifting to the black thing on my table that Tony called a ‘phone’. Ours didn’t make a sound, so it’s a good thing Walt’s dad woke us up.
“Is Walt with you?” I hear him ask.
“Yeah, Dad, I’m here,” Walt mutters unexpectedly. “Are you guys going to keep up that shouting match through the door much longer?” He opens his eyes and smiles at me. I blush when he plants a kiss on my cheek.
“Good. See you in a bit, then,” William replies a bit awkwardly.
After his footsteps recede down the corridor, we both can’t help chuckling.
“Is Padma bunking up with you again tonight?” Walt inquires.
“No idea.” I smile. “Hopefully we’ll be in Bodmin by tonight. Or who knows, maybe we’ll be on board the Explorer. I can imagine people want to go home. And besides, I bet Tony has other things to do with his life than showing us around all the time.”
“Yeah.” Walt’s face turns serious. “It’s high time he and the mayor of Bodmin come up with some new rules and regulations and inspire the people in Dartmoor. I still wonder what they’ve done to Victor.”
Thoughts about the red-haired guy and the farm with the secret doorway are still going through my mind when we board the bus just after ten o’clock.
“How was Moretonhampstead?” Tony inquires as he walks down the aisle to count his passengers, so we won’t forget anyone.
Most people look elated and enthusiastic. As long as you don’t look too closely, Dartmoor County is a friendly place extending a warm welcome to strangers. As long as you do what is expected of you, that is. But isn’t that true for every place in the world? My own village sticks to certain rules we expect others to follow. If clear rules are in place, people feel safe. Make the rules too strict and they’ll feel trapped, though. That goes for me, at least.
Once the bus is moving, Walt pulls out a large book with blank pages from his bag. “Look, my dad gave me this,” he says. “It’s a sketchbook. Here, it comes with some pencils. They’re like charcoal crayons, only harder.”
“What are you going to draw?” I want to know.
“I thought we could both make some drawings of Exeter. So we can show the people back home what it looks like.”
“Good idea.” I pull a face. “Only problem is, I can’t really draw that well.”
Walt laughs. “Why don’t I draw while you give me directions? Does that sound better?”
“Yes, I like the idea of being the brains of our organization,” I tease him.
He draws me in and gently caresses my cheek. “Aye aye, captain.”
From the corner of my eye, I see William watching us. Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to disapprove. In fact, he looks kind of endeared.
By the time we reach the capital city of Dartmoor, we’ve made a beautiful drawing of Exeter Cathedral together, standing there in all its glory amidst the remains of a destroyed city. We left the area around the building a bit smudgy and abstract on purpose. We’d rather show our friends on Tresco the beauty of the place – we can always tell them about the devastation later on.
Tony parks the bus on the main square in front of the palace. “This is where I said I’d meet President Jacob,” he announces. “The seven people who stayed behind will come here to join us for a goodbye meal. There will also be a small memorial service in honor of Henry.” His voice slightly cracks on the name of his dead friend.
We all get off quietly. I notice how our people automatically lower their voices once we’re outside, just like Tony did when we first stopped at the eastern gates of Dartmoor County. Everybody knows that we shouldn’t stand out by talking too loud.
When I spot Padma, Winda, and Jinn in front of the palace, a wave of relief hits me. They’re still alive – nothing has happened. They even look glowing and very content.
“Leia!” Padma calls out when she sees me, running toward me and pulling me into a hug. “How was Dartmoor East?”
“Fine,” I say. “We learned a lot. How are you and Jack doing?”
Padma smiles. “Fine as well. But I’m coming with you, don’t worry. He told me that Dartmoorers generally stay within the fence, and I’m not ready to say goodbye to Tresco. I might be back later.”
“What about the twins?”
“Jinn and Winda also want to go home. As do the other four from Newexter. President Jacob told us we are welcome to join the community later if we want. You know, so we’ll belong to Dartmoor officially.”
I let out a sigh of relief. It’s a good thing Padma is taking more time to think this through. What would I have told her parents if she’d chosen to stay here? Padma’s mother in particular was over the moon when her daughter returned to Newexter. It would have broken her heart.
“Shall we go inside?” Tony proposes just then. “It’s half past eleven. Everything’s ready.”
With an anxiously-beating heart, I follow Tony. The first time, it was tripping because of sheer excitement, but now it’s due to stress. No matter how beautiful this palace is, I can’t forget what happened to Sam not ten steps away from the main entrance.
My feet falter when I step into the dinner hall and my gaze lands on a sort of altar. There’s a life-like, giant portrait of Henry put up on an easel, surrounded by candles and flowers. Henry’s wife is next to the altar, her face pale and tear-streaked. With her are more people from Dartmoor, comforting her.
“Welcome back,” President Jacob says, emerging from the crowd. “We would like to thank you for your visit and offer you the opportunity to honor Henry, without whom your island may have never been discovered.”
Oh, no. I don’t know if I can deal with this.
Walt sidles up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s grab something to eat first before we go up there to shake Henry’s wife’s hand. It’ll give you time to prepare.”
I nod quietly. We walk over to the luscious buffet that the president had his cooks prepare for us. Naturally, it’s also for the people who have come to commemorate Henry, the man who was murdered by my corrupt, cowardly leader. And his wife doesn’t even know it. Nobody told her the truth, for fear of the consequences.
My stomach twists when I take a bite of fruit pie. I’m too nervous to eat. Walt takes my plate from me and puts it back on the table. “You look like you’re about to hurl. You want to go now?”
“Yes.” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Let’s get this over with.”
We join the line and move up slowly, shuffling forward step by step to offer our condolences to Henry’s wife. She looks so sad, and so gentle. I can sense she has never had to pretend she’s nonviolent. She’s the real deal. I don’t know if they had any kids together – if they did, they aren’t here.
When I face her at last, I can’t hold back tears. “I’m Leia,” I say softly. “Henry has made our world so much bigger, and we are thankful for that.”
“Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m Michelle, and I am proud of what my husband did for you. May Jesus welcome him to the hereafter with open arms.”
She seizes my hand and gently squeezes it. I don’t know where I get the idea, but suddenly my other hand slips into the pocket of my cardigan and I pull out the golden cross from Exeter. “I would like to give you this,” I say. No one deserves this treasure more than she does, after all we have taken away from her, and this is all I can give to her. “Think of us and of Henry whenever you look at it.”
Her eyes start to shine. “That – that’s beautiful,” she stutters. “Where did you get that?”
A stern voice pipes up from behind me. “That’s what I would like to know.”
When I turn around, I see Sonia, the president’s sister, standing behind me with a light scowl on her face.
Only then do I realize I have made a huge mistake.
18 – Leia
“You took this from our church?” Sonia asks, completely taken aback. “Where else would you get a thing like that?”
I blink anxiously and draw a deep breath to answer her, but no words come out. I have no idea what to tell her.
“Stealing will not go unpunished, I assure you,” says President Jacob, who has joined his sister to see what all the commotion is about. He looks pointedly at the crucifix.
“I didn’t steal anything from the church,” I protest. “I found this.”
“Where?” Sonia sounds calm, but it’s obvious she wants to know all the details.
My gaze volleys between Michelle and Sonia before drifting to the floor. Then, I exhale loudly and look President Jacob straight in the eye. “In Exeter,” I admit.
Everybody around us grows silent. I feel Walt stiffen next to me.
“That’s impossible,” Jacob says decidedly. “No one is allowed to go there.”
“We snuck past the guards in Dunsford.” Walt backs me up. “We just wanted to see the place of our ancestors. And the only building still standing is the cathedral, so that’s where we went.”
The people around us edge away almost imperceptibly.
“Exeter is a very dangerous city,” Michelle says in a trembling voice. “Hardly anyone gets out of there alive.”
“We really went there,” I maintain. “Walt, show them our drawing.” By now, I don’t know what’s worse – being accused of stealing or admitting to secretly visiting their shrine, but I’d rather stick to the truth when it comes to these unpredictable people.
With shaky hands, Walt opens his bag to take out his sketchbook. When he holds up the drawing we did, Jacob’s eyes grow wide. “Yes, that is the cathedral,” he acknowledges slowly. “As seen from the side. And the only public picture of the building we have is one showing the front.” He looks at us as though we are ghosts. “You’re not feeling sick? No headaches, vomiting, hair loss?”
“Nothing of the kind,” I say. “Maybe we were protected by the Force. That’s what we believe in on Tresco.” I smile at him beatifically. He shouldn’t think he’s dealing with a bunch of primitives. We’ve been pegged as Unbelievers by people who didn’t understand us before, and I’m not going to let that happen again.
Michelle is the first one to break the long silence. “You’re sure you want to give this to me?” she asks gingerly.
I nod. “Of course. Your husband sacrificed himself to save us.”
She bites her lip and smiles through her tears. “Thank you.”
“A glorious gift,” Sonia agrees. Her menacing attitude has disappeared now that she knows we didn’t steal anything. “Henry would have been honored.”
I shake Michelle’s hand once more, watch as Walt offers her his condolences too, and then walk to a bench in the corner, my knees wobbly. I only brave a look around the room after sitting there with Walt, hand in hand, for a few silent minutes. My gaze catches on the president, who’s quietly talking to Sonia, his eyes pensive as he watches me and Walt. What are they discussing? Are they about to arrest us because we’ve broken the rules? Or are they just very thankful for the beautiful gift we’ve brought for Henry’s wife?
“I can’t wait to go to Bodmin,” Walt says at that moment.
“Can’t be soon enough.” I sigh, letting my head drop onto his shoulder. When William shows up with a plate full of food some moments later, I decide to have a few bites of bread anyway. The trip to Bodmin will take a couple of hours.
When the group of people gathered around
Henry’s portrait leaves, a bell rings and summons servants scurrying about to clear the table and clean the room.
Padma walks over to us and gives me a weak smile. “I’m so sad about Henry. But I’m also kind of happy that Tony didn’t tell anyone it was our fault.”
“Me too,” I mumble.
“We’re leaving, by the way. First we visit Bodmin and tomorrow it’s back to the Penzance harbor.”
I look around one more time, taking in the room where we have had the opportunity to enjoy the Dartmoor hospitality twice. It’s still beautiful, but I would never feel completely at ease if I stayed here. Nonviolent ideals are fine, as long as they’re just principles – expecting people to never get angry or aggressive anymore will take away the humanness from a community.
It is as if a burden is lifted off my shoulders when we get into the bus again to be on our way to the other large city in the new world. Bodmin is more open-minded, less strict, and only a two-hour drive.
“I’m sorry I lost your book,” I apologize to William. It was his copy of the New Testament that I used to bribe my way out of Dartmoor with Victor.
He shrugs. “No problem. I’m sure I can get another one in Bodmin. I’d like to put a copy in the Bookkeeper’s library when we get home.”
“Dad,” Walt groans. “Not another book I have to learn by heart.”
I laugh. “Isn’t it about time that everyone gained access to those books?”
He turns around to face me. “You think? Why?”
“Because it’s good to share knowledge.” I remember our own Book, kept under lock and key, because no one was allowed to read in it except Saul. Only now do I wonder whether the manor leaders were always like that. Did the youngsters used to know more about its contents? “So people can decide for themselves what to do with that wisdom, and use their common sense. They won’t need to slavishly follow priests who think they know how it should be interpreted, or dictators like Saul, or other leaders such as Gideon and Jacob.”