by Clayton Wood
“Coming,” he called out.
He got up and walked to the door, opening it. Trixie was standing on the other side. She smiled at him.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted. “Can I come in?”
“Uh yeah, sure,” Hunter mumbled. He stepped to the side, and she walked in. She was wearing a tight black shirt, low cut and sleeveless as before, and tight black shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail.
“Did you take a nap?” she inquired. Hunter nodded, then yawned. “That’s good,” she stated, stifling a yawn of her own. “Are you hungry?” she pressed. “I can take you to the community center to get dinner.” Hunter nodded, and his stomach growled in agreement.
Trixie led the way, going downstairs. Hunter followed, almost forgetting to lock his door. They walked out of the apartment building and across the docks. Hunter looked around, noticing that there was nobody around. It was like a ghost town.
“Where is everybody?” he asked.
“At church,” Trixie answered. “Everyone cleanses at night.”
“What about you?” he pressed. She smiled.
“Oh, they don’t want me there,” Trixie replied. “I worship at the house with the rest of the girls.”
“So uh, what do you worship?” he inquired. Not that he was particularly interested. He’d never been religious himself, after all. His dad hadn’t brought him to church growing up, and his mother had been a bit of a pagan.
“Tykus,” Trixie answered.
“The guy who founded the city?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Tykus was a legend, the greatest one of all. He created our people, and His will lives on in the city. His will is powerful in the churches.”
“Okay,” Hunter muttered.
“If we expose ourselves to His soul, He will grace us with His will, and cleanse us of impurities,” she explained.
“Nice,” Hunter mumbled. Sounded like a typical government-sponsored religious cult. He hesitated. “We’re not going there, are we?” If he had to pretend to believe in this crap, it was going to be a bad night.
“No.”
They headed across the docks toward the community center, eventually reaching its double-doors. This time there was no line to get in, and Trixie opened one of the doors for Hunter, gesturing for him to go in. He did so, and she followed after him. As before, there was food on the tables lining the perimeter of the room. Hunter filled his plate, then sat down, Trixie sitting opposite him. He noticed a few people eating at other tables, all of whom turned to give him dirty looks.
“What’s their problem?” he grumbled.
“You’re dark,” Trixie answered matter-of-factly. “You make them nervous, that’s all.” He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked. She shook her head.
“Oh no,” she replied. “I like you. Besides, they have me cleanse twice a day. I’m very lucky.”
“Right,” Hunter mumbled, as if that made any sense. “Speaking of cleansing, how can I take a shower?”
“A shower?” she asked, giving him a confused look.
“Uh, to bathe,” he added. “You know, get clean.”
“Oh, you mean the bathhouses,” she realized. “Yes, there are lots of them in town. There’s one nearby. Do you want to do that after?”
“Sure,” Hunter replied. He dug into his food then. It was bland, as before. He finished quickly, and Trixie hurried to keep up with him. She stood then, guiding Hunter out of the community center and across the docks. They left the Outskirts altogether, reaching the streets of Lowtown beyond, and climbed the wooden stairs leading up to the church plaza. As expected, throngs of people were surrounding the church, a long line waiting at the front doors. Trixie led Hunter past the church and down a few winding roads, and eventually he saw the huge wall surrounding the city ahead. The wall was on their left…which meant Trixie was taking him back toward the gate. He glanced at her as they walked, admiring her slender body. She did have a cute butt, and small, perky breasts. Her clothing was almost skin tight, leaving very little to the imagination. Although he certainly found his imagination doing quite a bit with what little it’d been given.
“Do you want to see Lowtown?” she offered, glancing sidelong at him. He jerked his gaze up, forcing himself to look her in the eyes.
“Huh?”
“I can show you Lowtown if you want,” she offered.
“Uh yeah, sure.”
After a few minutes, they reached the wide corridor leading to the inner gate, which was to their left. To their right, he saw various shops and other rather run-down buildings built into the rising slope of the hill. Lowtown, she’d called it yesterday…the poor part of town. Though not as poor as the Outskirts.
“Guess I’ll be spending a lot of time here,” he grumbled. Somehow he suspected that Sukri was right…Ekrin wasn’t going to get him a high-paying job.
“Oh yes,” she agreed with a smile. “There’s lots to do,” she added. He thought he’d be annoyed by her obliviousness to his sarcasm, but surprisingly he wasn’t. Her earnestness was actually kind of cute. “Do you want to see some shops?”
“Sure.”
She led him up the side of the hill, up some stairs to another road parallel to the first. She walked past a few shops. Each had a hanging sign bolted to the wall overhead, with painted logos making it very clear what they were selling. And thank god for that; the letters on the signs looked like they used a bizarre version of the English alphabet, the words spelled so strangely that he would’ve had a tough time translating them if it hadn’t been for the logos.
Trixie stopped suddenly, putting a hand on his shoulder and gesturing at the shop they’d stopped in front of. Her hand was quite warm, and his skin tingled under her touch. He felt an unexpected stirring in his groin.
“Uh, what’s this place?” he asked, desperately trying to suppress his body’s reaction.
“It’s a clothing store,” she answered. “We can get you some new clothes if you like,” she added. “Ones that fit in more.”
He looked down at his clothes, realizing that she was right…he most definitely did not fit in. The style of clothing here was much different, not to mention that his pants still smelled like piss. He nodded, and she led him into the store. It was small, and smelled rather musty, but well-organized and clean. The shopkeeper – an older woman with graying hair – stood behind a short counter. She eyed them as they entered. Or rather, she eyed Hunter.
“Welcome,” she greeted, glancing at Trixie. She raised an eyebrow. “What do you need?”
“Just browsing,” Hunter answered.
“Anything in particular?” the shopkeeper pressed. Trixie smiled at her.
“We’d like a shirt, pants, and shoes, if that’s okay” she replied. Then she glanced at Hunter…or rather, his groin. “And underwear.”
“You size him,” the shopkeeper ordered, tossing measuring tape at her. “Don’t take too long,” she added, glancing warily at Hunter. Trixie nodded, quickly taking his measurements, then handing the tape back to the shopkeeper. She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to touch it. Trixie set the tape on the counter instead, walking back up to Hunter.
“What’s her problem?” he whispered, glaring at the woman. Trixie pushed him gently toward a bin filled with folded pants.
“Don’t mind her,” she replied. “She’s just nervous.”
“Everyone’s nervous,” Hunter muttered under his breath. “What, they’ve never seen a black guy before?”
“A what?” Trixie asked.
“A guy like me,” he clarified. “With dark skin.”
“She probably hasn’t,” Trixie admitted. “I haven’t either,” she confessed.
“Yeah, well you’re not acting like I’m going to steal your shit and rape you,” he shot back. Trixie raised an eyebrow.
“Rape me?”
“You know what I mean,” he insisted. “Everyone’s looking at me like I’m a crim
inal.”
“Let’s get you some pants,” she decided, looking through the bins. Eventually she took out a pair of black pants, and leaned over, holding it up against his waist…and giving him an excellent view down her low-cut shirt. He felt his groin stirring again, and grabbed the pants from her, holding it against his growing…problem.
“These look good,” he stated, clearing his throat loudly. “And a shirt?”
“They’re over here,” she replied, leading him to another wall, this one filled with shirts. She quickly found what she was looking for, a black shirt. It looked a bit too small for him, though.
“Are you sure this fits?” he asked, taking it from her with one hand while holding the pants in front of his lap.
“Yes,” she replied. “It’s supposed to be tight.”
Trixie made quick work of finding underwear for him – also black, and also appearing too small to fit him…especially now. Socks and shoes were next. At length, she’d found everything, and brought the items to the counter, paying for them herself.
“Goodbye,” the shopkeeper said. Hunter grimaced, knowing what she really meant.
Get out.
Trixie led him out, carrying a bag filled with his new clothes. He tried to take the bag from her, but she insisted on carrying them for him.
“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll pay you back.”
“You don’t have to,” she answered with a pretty smile. “Ekrin gave me money to help you,”
“Ah.”
“Come on,” she urged, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down the street. “I’ll take you to Ekrin.” She led him to the wide corridor leading to the interior gate. This opened shortly after Trixie spoke to a guard, and they walked into the tunnel beyond. Trixie led him back upstairs to the room Ekrin had met him in yesterday. She knocked on the door, and it opened.
“Can you stay here for a minute?” she asked, glancing his way.
“Sure.”
She went into the room, closing the door behind her. A few moments later, it opened again, and Trixie popped her head out.
“You can come in.”
Hunter did just that, finding Ekrin sitting in his usual spot at the far end of the table. Hunter sat down opposite him, while Trixie remained standing.
“Good morning Hunter,” Ekrin greeted. “I trust you slept well?”
“Oh yeah,” Hunter replied. “Thanks for the apartment,” he added. “It’s real nice.”
“Yes, well,” Ekrin stated. If he sensed Hunter’s sarcasm, he certainly didn’t show it. “As we discussed yesterday, I’d like to pick your brain about your world, and the…technology you possessed.”
“Alright.”
Ekrin pulled out the revolver Hunter had given him, and began asking all sorts of questions about it. How it worked, what it was made of specifically…down to the exact materials. And the components to gunpowder, and so on and so forth. Of course, Hunter had no idea about most of the specifics, only able to provide a general understanding…a fact that clearly didn’t please Ekrin.
“All right,” the man stated after the long interrogation. “Tell me about this,” he requested, placing something on the table. It was Hunter’s cell phone. Hunter paused, staring at the thing. He’d forgotten all about it.
“It’s a…” Hunter began. How to explain a phone? “It shows pictures,” he stated. “Like paintings, but with light.”
“Can you demonstrate?” Ekrin requested. Hunter complied, turning the phone on and entering his passcode. He showed a few pictures of himself at school, then turned the phone off, noticing that the battery was at 30%. Preserving its battery life was important, considering he’d never get a chance to charge the thing again. It contained the only real evidence of home…of his former life.
Ekrin put the phone and revolver aside, then leaned back.
“Thank you for the information,” he stated. “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Yeah,” Hunter replied. “Why does everyone here hate me?” Ekrin grimaced, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table.
“That’s a bit complicated,” he admitted with a sigh. “Where to start?” He paused, thinking it over. “Did Trixie tell you about our founder, Tykus?”
“A little.”
“Yes, well, He was quite the legend,” Ekrin explained. “The greatest man in our history. His will was unparalleled, so powerful that He united our people, creating the most powerful kingdom in the world. Every person you’ve met here has been shaped by His will.”
“By going to church,” Hunter stated.
“Not just that,” Ekrin countered. “You see, Tykus’s will is everywhere. In the churches, in the streets. In every corner of the kingdom. It is concentrated in the churches,” he added. “And that is why people worship there, so that they can feel Tykus’s will, and have it cleanse them of impurities.”
“What impurities?” Hunter inquired. “Impure thoughts?” He glanced at Trixie, recalling a few impure thoughts he’d had earlier.
“Not just thoughts,” Ekrin corrected. He paused, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the table, as if choosing his words. “You see, Tykus was the pinnacle of human achievement, the greatest man who has ever lived. We give ourselves to His will so that we can continue His legacy, and so that His will lives through us.” He smiled. “We keep Tykus alive, and Tykus makes us who we are, along with the other great men of the past.”
“Right,” Hunter mumbled. “Sounds perfectly reasonable.”
“It is,” Ekrin agreed.
“Okay,” Hunter replied. “But what does that have to do with my question?”
“Well,” Ekrin answered, “…our people are…sensitive to anything that might take them astray from Tykus’s will.” He gestured at Hunter. “You represent an…undesirable alternative to our peoples’ identity.”
“Because I’m black,” Hunter stated bluntly.
“Because you’re brown,” Ekrin corrected. “Yes, that’s part of it. Appearance is part of one’s identity, after all,” he added. “And shared traits symbolize the identity of a nation, of a people brought together by shared ancestry. A nation is a family of sorts…and shared traits – personality, appearance, customs, beliefs – are what bind a family together.” He paused for a moment. “Tykus is the father of our nation, if you will. We want His essence to continue through our bloodlines. You, unfortunately, represent an undesirable alternative to that.”
“So it’s a religious thing.”
“In part, yes.”
“Oh good,” Hunter replied. “That makes it okay then.”
“In any case,” Ekrin stated, “…I recommend you keep to yourself for the time being. Stay in the Outskirts as much as possible. There are some people like you there, after all, and you’ll be safer among them.”
“People like me?”
“Outsiders,” Ekrin clarified. He stood then. “Thank you again for the information. I’ll have Trixie escort you out…and I’ll have a job for you tomorrow.”
“Does it pay good enough to get an apartment that doesn’t suck?” Hunter quipped. Ekrin raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” he replied. “With time. But I suggest you appreciate the apartment you have,” he added. “Our government does not typically give handouts to people. They have to earn their possessions. Be thankful that we took pity on you and offered to clothe and shelter you at all.”
Hunter lowered his gaze, realizing he’d been an ass.
“I am,” he mumbled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Ekrin replied. He nodded at Trixie. “Take Hunter back to his apartment as we discussed.” He gave Hunter one more look, then walked past them, opening the door and stepping out of the room. The door closed behind him, and Hunter stared at it, then glanced at Trixie.
“So what now?”
“We can go back into the city if you want,” she offered. “I can show you around.”
“Sure,” he agreed. It wasn’t like he had anything el
se to do. Besides, he actually didn’t mind spending time with her. Trixie nodded, walking to the door and holding it open for him. He got up from his seat, following her out of the door and into the hallway. She led him back into the city, passing through Lowtown once again. As they walked, Hunter noticed that passers-by were switching to the other side of the street when they saw him…or straight up turning around and going the other way. He shook his head.
“I don’t get it,” he grumbled. “Why doesn’t anyone want to be near me?”
“You’re brown,” she replied. “They just don’t want to turn brown too.”
“What?” Hunter blurted out, stopping in his tracks. Trixie stopped as well, facing him. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Being black…uh, brown…isn’t contagious, you know.”
“It isn’t?” Trixie asked, clearly taken aback. Hunter stared at her.
“No, it isn’t.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, frowning prettily. She glanced up at him. “I didn’t know that.” She grimaced. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”
“You seriously thought it was contagious?” Hunter pressed. Trixie nodded. “Then why aren’t you freaking out like everyone else?”
“I think it looks nice,” she confessed, putting a warm hand on his bare arm. Her touch sent a shiver through him. She had an effect on him, there was no doubt about it. Her touch – and even her very presence – was magical. He suddenly forgot why he’d been upset.
“Where are we going now?” he asked.
“I can show you the bathhouses,” she offered. Hunter considered this; he’d have to take a shower at some point. He hadn’t worn deodorant since yesterday, and he still smelled like piss.
“All right.”
After a few minutes, they arrived at a large bakery, the smell of freshly baked goods hanging in the air. Attached to this was another building…one with no windows.
“That’s a bathhouse,” she explained.
“Attached to a bakery?” Hunter asked. “Interesting combo.”
“They use the heat from the ovens to warm the water,” Trixie explained. “Come on,” she added, pulling him through the front door of the place. Inside, there was a woman sitting behind a desk, a long hallway behind her with doors on either side. The woman glanced up at them as they came in, her eyes settling on Hunter. Her expression soured.
