The Powerless Series: Complete 5-Book Set

by Jason Letts

  Chapter 7: The Caravan Man II

  When temple services were over, the inhabitants of the seaside camp descended the steps and began moving toward the mess area and its green and red sacks. Now that Chucky was able to sneak food from the farm, his friends didn’t need to feel as stressed about this part of the day as they used to. Even if all of them walked away with nothing, which was sometimes the case, they would not go hungry.

  Following the crowd out of the temple on a day that felt pleasantly sunny rather than oppressively sunny, Mira walked side by side with Aoi while Chucky and Vern played tag amongst the crowd. They wove in and out, chasing after each other, often catching harsh glances or tripping attempts for their display of energy.

  Though she was too short to see them running around ahead, a contented smile emerged on Aoi’s face, which she became bashful about when she noticed Mira looking at her.

  “Why are you so happy?” Mira asked, trying to share in her enjoyment.

  Aoi sighed, tilting her head to rest it against her hand.

  “Isn’t it just the natural state of things to be in love? It supersedes everything and stays with me in a way I can never forget. Somehow it just takes everything that’s awful and turns it into something wonderful,” she cooed.

  “Don’t get carried away or anything,” Mira teased.

  “Why not? Why not get carried away and live wholly in this feeling forever? It’s these precious feelings that have to counterbalance a lifetime of painful dissatisfaction.”

  Mira kept her eyes on Aoi, who looked happy enough to be in a far better place than this.

  “You’ve changed so much,” Mira commented. “People would’ve jumped out of their skin if they’d heard you talking about love back at the academy.”

  “How could I possibly change when I’m already everything? We all are, and it’s just a question of what makes it to the surface. Everything. And so is he,” Aoi said, taking a dreamy glaze in her eyes.

  Reminded of them, Mira elevated to her tiptoes to try and see where the boys had gone. There were plenty of heads bobbing along in the crowd, but those of their friends did not appear.

  “It must be nice,” Mira said in low tones. “But I will have to make due with the love of my family, well a sister at least.”

  She noticed Aoi raise her eyebrow and smirk. Almost afraid of what she would say, Mira hoped to pave over it.

  “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen her since that time we went to the shipyard. I guess she didn’t find anything or she would’ve told me right away. Still, it’s been over a week without any word. Sometimes I think I catch a hint of her hiding in the shadows or the light, but nothing. We don’t have much time before the ship is finished and we miss our chance to figure this out.”

  “Why do you say that?” Aoi asked, and Mira knew she did not mean the comments about her sister.

  “Say what?” Mira asked, hoping she could hide behind obliviousness.

  But Aoi’s sharp, scrutinizing look continued, and Mira could imagine herself getting sucked into the dark irises of her eyes.

  “You know how he feels about you. He makes it so obvious,” she said.

  Mira flinched and looked forward. The archway to the mess area was still so far away.

  “I don’t know anything. He doesn’t know what he’s doing and neither do I. Just because you want to read into things or play matchmaker or whatever doesn’t mean there’s anything real about it,” Mira rambled, continuing to look forward and walking a little faster.

  “Why, Mira? Why do you hide from the truth?” was all Aoi said in reply.

  In Aoi’s words, Mira could see the evidence stacked out against her. There was the extra attention, the occasional presents, and the attempts to help. But whenever Mira thought to put intentions behind Chucky’s actions, it made her uncomfortable and she tried to block it out.

  “He can’t really feel that way about me. I mean, he is so normal and I’m so different. We’re just all cooped up in here and things are hard. So I don’t blame him for pretending even though he doesn’t really mean it,” she reasoned.

  As usual, Aoi honed in on the one part of her comment that stung the worst no matter how far down it was buried.

  “What makes you think you’re different? You’re as much a girl as I am. Maybe more,” Aoi said, lowering her eyes a little.

  “No, but you’re being ridiculous,” Mira retorted. “Why would anyone ever want me when everyone else just has so much more going for them?”

  “It’s one thing to be different and quite another to stand out. Are you really unable to see what he finds appealing about you?” she asked.

  Becoming increasingly vexed with this conversation, Mira pursed her lips and tried to think of something that would definitively explain how far away she felt from everyone. But before she could do more than open her mouth, Vern swooped in from behind them and lifted Aoi into the air. He put her on his shoulder and twirled her around, both of them laughing.

  Chucky appeared as they crossed underneath the archway. It startled Mira to find him just behind them, and she suddenly wondered nervously how long he’d been there. The crowd funneled into a line, leading to where Crimshaw directed traffic and they distributed the food in green and red sacks.

  “So what’s for lunch today?” Aoi asked down to Chucky.

  “Luck of the draw,” he slyly deferred. “Could be anything.”

  They waited through the line, made their picks, and headed back to their tents, which were tucked amongst the palm trees just up from the beach. Opening their packs, they found a couple of apricots mixed in with wood chips. Having left most of the camp behind, they approached Chucky’s tent, which housed a small hole in the ground in which he stored his liberated food.

  Reaching inside, he pulled out his blanket and handed it to Aoi. While she set it up in the shade, he told the others to sit down and relax. Chucky crawled inside his tent and pulled away a sheet covering the ground just next to his bed. It revealed a panel of thatched twigs and sticks. Removing that, Chucky reached into a sealed hole no bigger than a square foot. It was filled with water, which served to wash away the oil. Fruits and vegetables floated around inside, which he reached for.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked, coming around from the side of his tent, his hands behind his back. He dropped to his knees and presented a big, ripe pineapple. Bright green leaves shot out from the top in a beautiful display, and it’s yellow-green color looked good enough to bite right into.

  “Wow, it looks amazing! I can’t believe you were able to sneak out something so big,” Vern gushed.

  Chucky had never gotten a pineapple before, and everyone stared at it with wanton desire. He next removed a small blade from his pocket. Holding it out to the group in front of him, his hand drifted to Mira, who gladly took it and started cutting into it. Before she had even cut it in half, Mira happened to look up and catch Aoi looking at her.

  “Now do you see?” she asked.

  Late that afternoon, clacking gears and squeaking pulleys announced the opening of the seaside camp’s main gate, which usually only opened for one reason, and that was to let the caravan in. Guards and inhabitants stopped what they were doing to look, hoping to break the monotony or get a sneak peek at something newsworthy.

  This time, those seeking something unusual were not disappointed. Instead of boring old metal beams stacked next to rows of wooden boards, the horses appeared to be dragging in something so colossal it looked like it wouldn’t fit through the gate. Emerging through the hazy heat blurring their vision, it looked like a fat metal tube until it came closer and revealed the long and tilted blades wrapping around it.

  Vern’s workstation was between the gate and the fenced-off farm area some distance behind. The caravan’s arrival always inflamed his anger. It meant Jeremy would be given another chance to exercise his twisted sense of humor on new attempts to torment him with his authority. The only thing that kept Vern from snapping was the th
ought of how quickly Jeremy would leave. The sound of buzzing already scratched at his eardrums.

  Positioning his back to the gate, Vern hoped to avoid the inevitable confrontation by focusing on his work. He stood alongside a thin wooden duct conducting water from the sea to the farm. The duct was at waist level, just wide enough for him to stretch his hands over. His job was to stand there, for hours, exercising his power over the shimmering water funneling through the duct to remove the salt and minerals from it. The water skipped up and tickled his palms, leaving behind salty sediment that made his hands white.

  The first covered wagon creaked through the gate and parked on the opposite side of the open entrance area. Though not a fly could be seen, the inside of the wagon buzzed like a beehive. Jeremy hopped out, wiping his brow and stretching. He took a condescending look at the assembled bystanders and then positioned himself near the path to oversee the arriving propeller and equipment.

  One by one he waved in the flatbed carts to the amazement of the camp’s inhabitants. The shiny, sharp-looking propeller led the procession down a dusty path to the shipyard. Behind it, the caravan worker with the nose ring kept a hand on it the entire way. It met with awe-struck stares and plenty of whispering conjecture. Most of the other equipment couldn’t be so readily identified, especially if they were lying flat or in pieces. But altogether it was a sight none of them would soon forget.

  As the last wagon rolled past, the temple bell marking the end of the workday rang. Vern planned to shut the valve conducting the water and scoot away as quickly as possible to avoid Jeremy, even if it meant Aoi wouldn’t be able to meet him there as she usually did. Using the caravan for cover, he trotted over to the valve and started to twist it shut. Just a few more turns of the wheel and he would be free to duck away.

  “My that’s a long haul,” Jeremy whined, his footsteps indicating his approach. “It’s hard work being out there on the road. Not many comforts, if you know what I mean. Even some refreshing, clean water could’ve made a world of difference.”

  The valve shut, Vern marched around the side for the path leading away through the trees to the huts and tents.

  “Not so fast there!” Jeremy called out to Vern. “Can’t you help me with a simple drink?”

  “The workday’s over, Jeremy,” Vern coldly reminded him.

  “Come now,” Jeremy pleaded, flashing a smirk. “You wouldn’t be foolish enough to let a little thing like that stop you from assisting me. What would your camp director think? Where is good old Crimshaw?”

  Jeremy’s thinly veiled threat picked away at Vern’s patience until it peeled away completely. Without a word, Vern stormed over to a small reservoir of filtered water and dipped a bowl into it. Unable to even look at Jeremy, Vern held it out to him.

  “There. Now that wasn’t so bad, was it? I don’t know why you have to make such a big deal out of everything,” Jeremy chided, moving the bowl to his lips.

  He took a sip and then sprayed the water out of his mouth with a repulsed cringe. Some of the spittle made it onto Vern’s face, but before he could even wipe it off Jeremy started yelling.

  “I said I wanted clean water! If I wanted to drink seawater I could’ve just walked down to the ocean!”

  Jeremy dumped out the bowl and shoved it back into Vern’s hands. Some of the bystanders who had started to wander off after the caravan passed through turned back to see what was going on.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Vern warned him, knowing full well that the water was perfectly fine for drinking.

  “I know I’m making a mistake! Who would purposely drink seawater? Go filter it again,” Jeremy ordered with ferocious rage in his eyes. Back behind him, the horde of flies started to emerge from the covered wagon and take to the air. This didn’t matter to Vern, who had already had enough and wouldn’t let Jeremy jerk him around any longer.

  “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll fix that right away. Sorry,” he said.

  Returning to the reservoir, Vern dipped the bowl into the water and then attentively held his hand to it to remove any remaining sediment. The water bubbled and rippled under the influence of Vern’s crusty white hand.

  Penitently, he slunk toward Jeremy and held out the bowl while the cloud of flies flew high overhead. As soon as Jeremy held out his hand to receive it, Vern swung the bowl and flung the water. It splashed against Jeremy’s face even as he weakly tried to shield himself.

  “Now that looks refreshing,” Vern gloated.

  Hearing the gasps and seeing him become drenched would make any punishment well worth it. The flies were already swooping closer, but Vern thought he could get a few good shots in before the bugs or the guards made him pay for it. But he wouldn’t think twice about it if he proved he couldn’t just be walked on. When Jeremy looked back and saw Vern’s broad grin, his self-control gave way to frothing malice.

  “I’ll draw blood from every pore before I’m done with you!” he cried even as he stepped back to let his flies do his dirty work. Vern saw them falling through the sky at him but glanced down when he heard Jeremy start to sputter and choke.

  “If you put one mark on his beautiful body then I’ll bring you to the end,” Aoi threatened.

  She had one arm wrapped around his neck and the other hand holding his chin as if she would rip his head from his body. Jeremy could barely breath and the swarm of flies halted in midair.

  “You signed your own death warrant,” Jeremy coughed, but Aoi did not relent.

  “Aoi, what are you doing?” Vern yelled, finally getting her attention.

  She looked up at him, the strands of black hair falling over her eyes as she restrained Jeremy. Her face held her determination, but it had a trace of pleasure in it too.

  “Don’t worry! We’ll find a way out of this. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” she beamed.

  “Aoi, stop! You shouldn’t be doing this,” Vern demanded.

  “What?” she asked in a soft voice too low for him to hear, her face turning to confusion.

  She blinked a few times, keeping her eyes on him even as Jeremy squirmed and buckled. Exerting more energy to hold him down, she blinked again only for her irises to turn from black to white in a moment. She started to panic, making Jeremy howl from the pressure.

  “I can’t see!” she yelled.

  “Let him go now, and I’ll leave you your life,” Crimshaw shouted from down the path. “That’s the best offer you’re going to get.”

  Vern watched him storm up, looking furious and dastardly. Aoi looked about in vain, touching her eyes and trying to figure out what was going on. Her mouth hung open, and she took deep breaths. Slipping her arm back from around Jeremy’s neck, she released him. He coughed and then sucked in the air.

  “Now you’re in for it,” heckled Jeremy.

  Crimshaw was upon them in another moment. Aoi faintly turned to the sound of his stomping steps, her hands feeling out in the air. Snatching one of them, Crimshaw ripped her off her feet and pulled her onto his shoulder. Whipping her around, he started away. Vern could see her pliant body rattling against him.

  “Vern!” she shouted, and then the both of them vanished around a bend in the path.

  Looking smug and arrogant, Jeremy cleared his throat and dusted himself off. He ran his hand through his hair, somehow managing to make it even messier. Just then, the first cart from the caravan returned from around the corner.

  “Back to life on the road. Good seeing you, pal, and thanks for the splash. It was refreshing,” Jeremy nodded, leaving Vern alone to listen to his chuckles.

  Aoi fell.

  Twisting and spinning in the air, she hung near one of the guard towers by the beach in a perpetual downfall. The air whipped against her body, brushing back her hair and making her cheeks ripple. A guard chewed on a piece of straw in the tower, keeping an eye on the prison he manufactured and the one it enveloped.

  She had been there for hours. The hot sun scorched her, the constant tumbling had made her sick, and
she still couldn’t see a thing. The worst part of it all was how alone and helpless she felt, but she couldn’t fault herself for trying to help Vern. She would do it all again in an instant even if it meant an eternity of falling. Somehow in this cruel, agonizing state, he was her only comfort.

  Apart from the soft sound of waves washing against the shore, there was nothing else from the outside that made its way into her head. So when brush and branches started to rustle, it startled her. She tried to stand up straight in the constant upheaval of air suspending her above the ground.

  “Who’s there?” she called out.

  “It’s me, Aoi,” Vern said, stepping out from the thicket and onto the beach. Taking a few steps closer, he shielded his eyes from the sun so he could peer at her.

  “Oh, Vern! Thank you. Thank you for coming. Are you all right? It’ll all be worth it just as long as you’re all right,” she gushed.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, Aoi. I wish you hadn’t,” he scowled, hands on his hips.

  Aoi, spiraling, tried to find him in all the darkness.

  “Oh, there’s no need to feel bad for me. I just did what I thought was right.”

  “No, I don’t feel bad for you. It was a mistake for you to get involved because I can take care of myself,” Vern declared, and Aoi only now perceived his stern tone.

  “What?” she asked, bewildered.

  Vern shook his head for a moment and stepped out of the sand he seemed to be sinking in.

  “I don’t need anybody running around after me making sure I’m OK all the time. If I get myself into a problem, I can get out of it myself. I don’t need anybody to handle it for me,” he barked.

  “No, please don’t be mad at me,” she trembled, putting her hand to her pink lips.

  “Just because we’re in a bad situation here doesn’t mean I don’t have control over what’s going on. You should know that. I figured that’d be one of the first things you would know to respect about me when we decided to get together!” he whined, his voice rising.

  Aoi spun back as if she’d been hit, but when she came around her face had some of its fiery anger in it from the old days.