The Collar and the Cavvarach

by Annie Douglass Lima

  Bensin wasn’t sure he would dare to stop work for lunch with a Watch officer standing over him, but he obeyed. It felt wrong to leave dirty dishes in the sink, but this was his day off, after all. And knowing Coach Steene, the dishes would probably still be there waiting for him to wash tomorrow.

  Grabbing his hat again, he pocketed the pass, his sheet with the address, and the bus card Coach had bought him, and then pulled on his socks and shoes once more. “I guess I’m ready to go.”

  Coach, who was flipping through channels on the TV, turned around and grinned at his expression. “Brighten up, for the emperor’s sake! You look like you’re heading to a funeral.”

  “Yeah, Coach. I mess up his lawn or something and it might be mine.”

  He couldn’t help chuckling a little at his own joke as his owner burst out laughing. “Watch officers are regular people too. He wouldn’t have invited you to work for him just to look for an excuse to punish you. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Bensin wasn’t so sure, but there was no turning back now.

  He caught the first bus at the stop down the street and watched the neighborhoods outside the window get nicer and nicer. When it was time to get off, he hurried around the corner, pulling out his paper to double check the address even though he knew it by heart.

  As he drew near, he wished he had a watch. What if he was too early? Or worse yet, what if he was late? The horror of that thought spurred him forward, and he covered the rest of the distance at a run.

  At last he stopped, panting, in front of the address that matched the one on his sheet. A white wooden fence stood before him. Standing on tiptoe, Bensin could just see over it into a large yard wrapping all the way around a stately brick house. That’s a lot of lawn to mow.

  Should he knock on the gate or go in and knock on the front door? The door, probably, he decided. No one in the house would be likely to hear him knocking from here.

  He put a hand on the gate and it swung open easily. Bensin stepped inside, careful to close it behind him. His heart was pounding so hard that when he looked down he could see his shirt moving up and down with each thump.

  A gravel driveway stretched before him, leading past the house up to a separate garage. A silver-colored car was parked in front of it. Bensin’s knees felt weak as he crunched his way over the gravel, clutching the plastic grocery bag that held his lunch.

  A paved stone path branched off from the driveway toward the house, where three wooden steps brought him up to the porch. To his left stood a little glass-topped table and two chairs. Straight ahead was the front door.

  I’ve got to do it. Taking a deep breath, Bensin pressed the doorbell.

  The resulting chime was so loud that he leaped backward and nearly fell down the steps. It took all his willpower to stand there, trembling, while footsteps approached from inside and the handle turned.

  “Bensin. Hello.” There stood Officer Shigo, just as tall and dark and terrifying as Bensin remembered. He was wearing khaki shorts and a T-shirt, and Bensin was shocked. It had never occurred to him that a Watch officer would even own any clothes besides his uniform.

  “You’re a little early.”

  “Oh. S-sorry, sir.”

  “That’s all right; it’s not a problem. Better early than late. Do you have your pass?”

  “Yes, sir.” Bensin dug it out. The officer took it and examined the signature, peering at the tiny one etched onto Bensin’s collar tag to make sure they matched.

  “Looks good. Come on out and I’ll show you what there is to be done. Why don’t you leave your bag here on the table.”

  Bensin set his lunch down, feeling as though he had just let go of a lifeline. Somehow it was scarier following the officer down the porch steps empty-handed.

  “As you can see, the lawn needs mowing. Make sure you get all the way to the edges in both the front and the back, as well as the side yard.” He led the way around the house to an even larger backyard. “The lawnmower is in the shed there behind the garage, as are the hedge clippers.” He pointed to the bushy green hedge that divided the yard from the neighbors’ on either side and in the back. “You know how to trim a hedge?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. When you’re done, rake up the clippings and the grass and take them out to the trash barrel by the front gate. There’s a rake and wheelbarrow in the shed, too. Come and let me know when you’ve finished that, and I’ll tell you what’s next. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Bensin found the lawnmower and dragged it out of the shed. He felt better as soon as he got it started. The steady rumble of the little engine, the vibrations in his hands as he pushed it across the grass, were as familiar to him as the sound of his own breathing. The smell of fresh grass was soothing, too. Gradually his pulse slowed to normal as he guided the lawnmower back and forth, focusing on one strip of lawn at a time.

  At one point he looked up and saw Officer Shigo sitting on a porch swing behind the house with a book in his hand, watching as Bensin mowed rows across the backyard. Catching his gaze, the man nodded at him, and Bensin hastily turned back to the grass. If he had been tempted to slack off, as he sometimes did when working for other people, the sight of the officer watching him would have been more than enough to inspire single-minded diligence.

  The side yard was narrow and didn’t take long to mow. When he got to the front, Bensin looked up after one pass and saw that Officer Shigo was now sitting at the little table, still keeping an eye on him over his book. After that he returned his gaze to the lawn and didn’t dare look up again.

  The sun was high in the sky, unusually hot for January, by the time he had finished mowing. Bensin took off his hat long enough to wipe the sweat off his forehead, wishing he could stop for a drink of water. But his bottle was in the bag up there on the table with the officer, and he didn’t dare.

  “Did you bring anything to drink?” the man inquired, reading his mind, as Bensin trundled the lawnmower past on his way back to the shed.

  “Yes, sir. I’ve got water in my bag there.”

  “Well, you’d better come and have some, then. I’d hate for you to get heat stroke on my watch.”

  Gratefully, Bensin downed half the bottle in one long draft. “Finish it up if you want,” the officer urged. “I’ll refill it for you inside.”

  After bringing the bottle back, Officer Shigo resumed his seat on the porch while Bensin started in on the hedges. But more and more often, Bensin looked up to see the man engrossed in his book instead of watching him.

  When he put away the clippers and rolled the wheelbarrow out of the shed, the officer beckoned him over. “You’ve been hard at work for quite a while now. Why don’t you take a break and eat your lunch? You’re welcome to come in and sit in the air conditioning.”

  The thought of sitting in a Watch officer’s home with him was just too much. Bensin bit his lip. “I — I think I should probably just stay out here, sir. I — I wouldn’t want to get your house dirty.”

  “Suit yourself. You can eat at this table, then. I’m going in to have my own lunch now.”

  Bensin was relieved to sit down by himself in the shade of the porch. What do Watch officers eat? he wondered as he dug into his sandwich. But he was thankful he didn’t have to find out. He could imagine few things as awkward as sitting at a table sharing a meal with one. I’d be too scared to actually eat anything myself.

  Saving one energy bar for the way home, Bensin got back to work as soon as the rest of his food was gone. He was nearly done cleaning up the loose grass and the clippings by the time he looked up to see Officer Shigo out on the porch again.

  “I’ve finished, sir,” he announced when he had taken the last load over to the trashcan and returned the tools to the shed. He dared to reach for his bottle, which the officer had refilled again, raising it to his lips for a quick swig.

  Officer Shigo walked around the yard and examined his handiwork. “Not bad at all. Very nicely done, in
fact.” He gave Bensin an approving smile. “You’re a hard worker. Want to stop there for today?”

  “If you have any more jobs, sir, I’ll do them.” He was already here. He might as well.

  “Just what I was hoping to hear. In that case, you can wash and wax my car, and if you’re up for more after that, there are windows to clean.”

  Bensin had just finished with the car when Officer Shigo called to him from the porch. “Lemonade or tropical punch?”

  Bensin turned. “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “I said, lemonade or tropical punch? Which do you prefer?”

  “Oh. Um, lemonade, I guess. Thank you, sir.”

  “Put the buckets and things away and come sit in the shade again for a bit,” the man ordered, disappearing into the house.

  Bensin obeyed, alarmed to see the officer bringing out two tall glasses. He set them down on the table and gestured to the chair beside him. “Have a seat.”

  Bensin sat, feeling as though he were in the interrogation room again. Of course, this time he had a tasty drink instead of handcuffs and was expecting money at the end instead of a lashing. It’s not that bad, he reminded himself, sipping the lemonade and hoping he didn’t smell as sweaty as he felt.

  “So, how are things going, Bensin?”

  “Fine, thank you, sir.” He kept his eyes on his glass.

  “No, I mean really. How’s life with your new owner?”

  “It — it’s good, sir.” The officer waited, so reluctantly Bensin went on. “Better than before, sir. Except for not getting to see my sister much.” He wrapped his hands around the cold glass, the condensation cooling his hot palms.

  “Do you get to visit her at all?”

  “Every now and then, sir.” He stared down at the table, wondering if the officer would somehow guess that he had been sneaking visits to her without his owner’s knowledge. “Not very often, though,” he added quickly. “We have different days off.”

  He thought of Ellie, spending almost all her time cooped up inside the house, trying to keep the baby quiet while Mrs. Creghorn worked behind the closed door of her study. Ellie, with her new collar and her sad green eyes. Crying herself to sleep every night because she missed him so much. I should have gone to see her this morning. I could have spent a few minutes with her before I came here.

  Perhaps sensing he didn’t want to talk about Ellie, the officer changed the subject. “Steene Mayvins is your new owner’s name, right? What does he do for a living?”

  “He’s an athletic trainer, sir, at the West Jarreon Center for Sports and Fitness.”

  “Does he train you too?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What’s your sport?”

  “Cavvara shil, sir.” The words tasted good on Bensin’s tongue. As good as ice-cold pink lemonade on a hot day. He took another sip.

  “No kidding? That’s an intense sport. I did a little cavvara dueling in college, and of course Watch training includes martial arts too. But cavvara shil takes it to a whole nother level. Are you pretty good?”

  Bensin shrugged modestly. “I’m okay, sir. I’ve got a tournament coming up in a couple weeks. I guess we’ll see then.” He didn’t want to mention what had happened the other day. That humiliating defeat in his first duel still stung. He took another sip of lemonade to wash the memory down.

  “Where’s your tournament?”

  “Imperial Park, sir. They hold a lot of sporting events there.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve worked security for quite a few of them. Jarreon loves its martial arts, that’s for certain. They’re more popular here than any other city in the empire, and I doubt there’s a park in town of any size that hasn’t hosted its share of tournaments. So tell me, what kind of fitness training does it take to get good at cavvara shil?”

  Haltingly, Bensin described his training regimen: the morning runs, the workouts with the weights and equipment in the CSF gym, the practice with Coach Steene’s other students. Officer Shigo asked questions that showed he really understood and was interested, and finally Bensin relaxed and told him all about Coach Steene’s new strategy and getting in his Zone.

  But then, mid-sentence, he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. He trailed off, taking a long drink to cover his embarrassment. Another one of Ricky’s rules popped into his mind: Beware of telling free people anything more than they really need to know about you.

  But the officer didn’t seem to have noticed his embarrassment. “You’re obviously passionate about your sport. I’m glad to see you pouring your energy into something so wholesome. So I’m not going to see you brought into the station in handcuffs again after another escape attempt, am I?” His voice managed to be stern but lighthearted at the same time, making a joke out of a serious matter.

  Bensin stared at his cup and licked his lips. “No, sir.”

  No, he would make sure that his next escape attempt happened closer to a different Watch station, one where nobody knew him or Ellie.

  The officer was gazing at him, and Bensin squirmed, wondering if the man could read his mind. Watch officers are trained to know when people are lying, he recalled. But he hadn’t exactly told a lie. Can he tell when people are hiding information, too? Does he know I’m still planning to help Ellie get free? And what would he do if he ever found out?

  A long, awkward moment passed in which Bensin clenched his hands around the cup to keep them from shaking and didn’t dare look up. Finally Officer Shigo broke the silence. “I’m glad to hear that, Bensin.” But — was there something in his tone that hinted that he didn’t believe it?

  “Well, anyway,” the man went on, his voice lighter, “are you ready to call it a day, or do you want to tackle those windows?”

  Bensin was relieved at the change of subject. “I’ll do the windows, sir.” Actually, he really just wanted to get out of there. But I came all the way over. I might as well earn as much money as I can before I leave.

  As he was starting the last window, the top of a school bus appeared on the other side of the front fence. A moment later, the gate opened and two young girls and a boy about his own age appeared, all wearing school uniforms and backpacks.

  “Daddy!” The younger of the girls ran up the driveway, braids bouncing.

  Setting his book aside, Officer Shigo stepped down off the porch and met her with a hug. Watch officers give hugs? “Hi, Sweetheart. How was your day?”

  “Fine. Who’s that?” She pointed at Bensin. Her siblings were looking at him too. The officer beckoned him over, and he came reluctantly, spray bottle in hand.

  “This is Bensin. He came by to help with the yardwork and outdoor chores. Bensin, these are my kids: Carlia, Jessa, and Nate.”

  Bensin tried to remember if Ricky had any rules about what to do when a free person introduced you to his kids, but nothing came to mind. “Hi,” he mumbled, glancing up at the three of them before dropping his gaze respectfully. Somehow it didn’t seem normal that a Watch officer should have children just like a regular person. Bensin wondered if the man arrested anyone who didn’t treat them well.

  “Nice to meet you,” said Nate.

  “Yeah,” his sisters echoed politely. Bensin was relieved when they all traipsed into the house. He was acutely aware of his sweat-soaked T-shirt and battered cap in contrast to their proper, preppy uniforms.

  Officer Shigo had gone in with them. Bensin finished the last window and then waited, wondering if he ought to knock on the door and announce that he was done. Instead, he went back around the house and checked every window to make sure he hadn’t left any streaks. Most of the curtains were shut to keep the sun from heating up the house, but he caught a quick glimpse of Nate opening his backpack on a desk in what must have been his bedroom, and of the girls standing in the living room talking to their dad. Hastily he averted his eyes and hurried to put the cleaning supplies away.

  Officer Shigo met him on the porch a moment later. “All done with the windows?”

  “Y
es, sir.”

  The man walked around the house and inspected them, too, Bensin trailing behind. “Not bad at all. You’ve done a good, thorough job: the windows, the car, the hedge, the lawn. I couldn’t have asked for better. You used your time efficiently and spent a little over four hours on what would probably have taken most people at least five. I hardly saw you pause once to even catch your breath, not counting those two breaks. You shouldn’t have to be penalized for being so diligent, and so I’m going to pay you for five hours of work.”

  Bensin couldn’t hold back a grin as the officer pulled out a wallet and solemnly handed him two twenties and a ten. “Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.”

  “You earned it. Going to put it toward your sister’s freedom?”

  Bensin’s grin faltered. “Y-yes, sir.” But not in the way you think. Quickly, lest the officer suspect anything, he added, “But I think I’ll use some of it next Sunday, sir. It’s her day off, and I wanted to take her out to get ice cream and — and maybe buy her a toy or something.”

  “What a nice idea. She’s lucky to have a brother like you. Now, do you have any plans for next Monday?”

  “Um — I’m not sure yet, sir.”

  “Because the shed and the front fence could both use a new coat of paint. I like your work ethic. If you’re interested, I’ll save the job for you.”

  Bensin hesitated. It would be nice not to have to make phone calls and go knocking on doors again. And yet — to come back here, to the home of the Watch officer who almost certainly suspected he was still planning Ellie’s escape — he wasn’t sure he could handle it a second time.

  Officer Shigo, reading his expression, chuckled. “You don’t have to make up your mind right now. Think it over and check with your owner, and give me a call again if you decide you’re interested.”

  “Okay, sir, I will.”

  He couldn’t help flinching when the officer set a hand on his shoulder. “I know it took a lot of courage for you to come here today. But then, I saw in our first meeting what a courageous young man you were. I respect that in anyone, slave or free.”