“You see, you find a match, you wait for the match to be approved, you set your Attachment day, you sign the papers, you move into your designated house, and you start to get to know each other. That’s not too hard, you just need to find out detailed likes and dislikes, that sort of thing.” Gax smiles a little. Well, his parents have been married for nearly 23 years, and his dad will still offer his mum red wine with dinner, even though she can’t stand it. Some likes and dislikes are obviously never noted, he thinks. “It’s not funny,” Caecilia hisses, misinterpreting his smile, so he quickly explains why he was smiling, explaining that some people are obviously not great at learning the details. She smiles at that as well, saying how her dad still puts garum on her mum’s salads, even though her mum doesn’t have it on her salad anymore after she was ill once.
“Surely it would be nice to get to know the other person a little, so you knew who you were getting um…attached to?” He asks, wondering what it would be like to marry someone without meeting beforehand. She shrugs, why would you? It doesn’t make any difference after all. “But not even knowing what the other person looks like?” She gives him that odd look again.
“Macia explains that is why courting wasn’t working for so many people. They would go courting for months, then decide that person wasn’t really to their liking, and then find somebody else to court. There was a lot of emotion involved and often it was very irrational. They did some chaperoned courting for a while, but even that ended up in the same mess. However, you can apply for a face to face meetup in a counselling session, a few days before the attachment papers are signed.” She makes it sound as if that’s a bit soft and totally unnecessary. Gax swallows. Imagine meeting a girl, just a few days before marrying her. The description on the matching list better be very accurate, he thinks. What is on the list anyway? He knows that Caecilia hasn’t signed up yet, so he doesn’t ask her.
“What if the person lied on their Nuptialem List and they’re not at all the person you were banking on?” She shakes her head, very sure of that one.
“They would be sent beyond the hills immediately, as would their parents, for having failed in their duties as parents.” Gax blinks, horrified. Well, at least you’d be together as a family, although not a happy family. “It hardly ever happens though. My dad said once someone on his moon list did it and the family were never heard of again. They obviously didn’t make it back from the hills.” Gax gives a little gasp. So that is an option too? Caecilia continues: “Nobody would think that a good idea. Nuptialem counselling makes it clear that ideas about looks and build are emotionally driven thoughts and they will help you to realign your thoughts if they think you need help with some irrationalities in your life. I know my friend Macia talked to her counsellor about this, she told me, as she had some worries about her chosen man, based on his name.” Gax stares, based on his name? Mind you, marrying someone with the weirdest name wasn’t that great, he could imagine. “You see, his name’s meaning could go various ways and Macia was worried that it would cause him to be difficult in the home. Her job choice could depend on it, but also, if his character affected him in his job, then he could cause her to lose her high status.”
Gax can feel a headache coming on. He had been looking forward to meeting Caecilia, but tonight it was an information overload. He knows that partly it is his disappointment that she had no desire to know the message from the basin; he didn’t even get to share it with her. What seemed like the perfect lead up to share something from the Book had been brushed off. This Nuptialem list makes him cringe and worry at the same time, as he doesn’t know how long he can stay off it. “What if you find someone yourself?” He asks the question, feeling his own face warm up instantly, but he just wants to know how it all works.
Caecilia’s face mirrors his own warmth as she looks away, saying, “You mean, court someone?” He smiles a little, dipping his head. “It would be…tricky.” Caecilia swallows and Gax senses that she is actually finding it hard, deep down, to say that. “You see, the council would not be happy and how do you find a counsellor to guide you through? How do you know the person’s score to begin with, for if the score is off, the council will never give you your attachment papers. No, it would be, well, it would be impossible, really.” Her voice has gone very soft and Gax is pretty sure that he can see her eyes glistening in the remaining bit of light. The fact that she isn’t very confident makes his heart jump with joy, until he realises that actually, it’s totally irrelevant, as he’s here on a mission and it’s not a wife hunting mission. It is his turn to blush violently then, having been side tracked on his task as operator that easily!
“I just wondered,” he says, trying to sound offhand. “The Gardens seemed so quiet and inviting, it would be so relaxing to walk round there with a friend, you know, chatting and discussing stuff, to enjoy the fountain and peaceful atmosphere.” Caecilia turns round then, looking at him with that odd look again. “There were beautiful flowers, different smelling bushes and it was so still, apart from a mum with some little ones,” he grins, “and I was just thinking how the sound of the fountain was so rest giving. Life can be busy and it’s so short…” He stops as Caecilia gasps, and spins round again, turning her back on him. Gax swallows, what has he said now?
“You really are different,” her voice sounds like she is struggling to speak, “I know you are, but exactly how different, I don’t know. And you scare me and yet it sounds so…good,” she ends lamely, obviously lost for a better word. After all, every day is a good day, so what is better than good? “When Macia told me about courting, I knew then and I knew the dangers. Now you talk about peace, quietness and feelings. And it makes me feel.” She sounds like the last bit isn’t meant to be a compliment, but Gax can feel his heart leap. After all, isn’t to feel to be alive?
Chapter 17
It is still dark when Gax wakes up. His thoughts immediately drift back to the previous evening. Caecilia had to go soon after she admitted he made her feel, leaving Gax wondering if he said enough. Had he really made the most of that amazing opening, did he really use the opportunity wisely? He might not get such a good chance again, he thinks, having a niggly feeling that maybe he should have made his point more strongly. He hadn’t wanted to push her away though, sensing that Caecilia wasn’t happy at what he had done to her. Gax thinks about her words, wriggling his toes under the sheet uneasily when he remembers that she had called him different as well. How long until the council realises he is different?
Gax stares at his ceiling, idly noting some cobwebs around the lightshade. Today it’s Enday. He swallows. The word in itself makes him cringe. In Mataiox it’s the first day of the week, called Resurrection Day. Normally that would be the best day of the week. Even at home there would always be a special breakfast, then the meeting in the Meeting House, followed by lunch out on the river banks or the beach. The afternoon was usually spent with the other young people, followed by the evening meeting and more time with friends and family. It was such a long, happy day, encouraging him and teaching him. He had to get used to the name Enday used in Elabi. His heart feels heavy.
Gax gets up in the dim predawn light, walks to the window and looks out at the countryside. He watches the never ending Lighthouse beams skim across fields and the water, and in a way it comforts him. “At least some things stay the same,” he whispers and Yulra promptly responds. She tells him the time, unasked for and he pulls a face. “Yes, thank you, Yulra,” he says.
“Is there a reason for you to be up this early?” Her metallic voice suddenly sounds ominous. He tells her in as cheerful a voice as possible, that no, he just woke up and as he is up he will go to the bathroom, before going back to bed. “People wake up for various reasons,” the Automated Servant agrees, “and toilet visits are most common. Insomnia can be a symptom of something else though.” He thanks her for her concern, smirking, for he is sure that sarcasm will be lost on her. Soon he is back in bed, but not asleep. Gax is wide awake by no
w, tired but not sleepy.
He shuts his eyes to try and close his mind to memories of home. It’s not helping him to think about what the rest will be doing today. I will need a plan for today, he decides, as well as a plan for next week, for time is slipping away from me. He had imagined people asking him why he was different and to tell them about the hope within him, to tell them about a better way of living. Instead, nobody has asked anything at all, two people have now commented that he is different and they didn’t mean that in a positive way at all. Even Caecilia hasn’t asked any questions and had been upset that he had rocked her boat. Mind you, that Macia hadn’t been much help, he thinks, feeling pretty sure he wouldn’t like Macia very much.
Gax drifts off to sleep, for the room is light and sunny when he wakes up again. After a shower he does feel better and finds himself starting the same song as the day before whilst making breakfast, softly singing the first melodious Thank You For This… He stops with a little gasp and instead instructs Yulra to play his favourite music this morning. His mood instantly dips. Not only will he miss the Meetings with the hearty singing, he can’t even sing by himself without getting into trouble. Self pity drags him down and a quiet voice whispers in his heart, “Are you sure it is worth it?”
”Yes,” Gax insists to himself as he finishes breakfast. Feeling depressed by Yulra, he goes for a walk along the little lanes, his feet taking him towards the lighthouse and the waves meeting the river mouth. When he can actually see the lighthouse he stops and turns away into another beaten down path, not wanting to be seen anywhere near the lighthouse. Here, out by himself Gax feels safe enough to softly sing the songs he would have been singing if he had been home. That is how he misses the soft face looking at him from the lighthouse. From this distance he wouldn’t have seen the moisture in the girl’s eyes in any case.
After lunch Gax hesitates. He really wants to go back to the beautiful garden, but will they ask even more questions if he goes there again? His walk this morning has done him good, but the restlessness is still there. In the end he decides to read his Book whilst waiting for the worst of the heat to go. The words from his Book sooth his soul, and he finds the words that used to be inscribed on the basin in the Gardens. He is still smiling when he carefully hides his Book again, slipping his sandals on and having another quick drink before setting off towards the city. It feels strange, walking towards the city, purposefully, but without his Book. His hands feel strangely empty, and for a moment he wonders whether he should actually take his Book and just behave like he would normally do on this day.
The guards at the city gates look at him quietly, then, after a few seconds, they gesture with their heads to let him through. Gax walks to the Gardens, feeling anticipation. What he is expecting he doesn’t know, but reading the verse in his Book somehow makes him wonder if the words are more visible than they were yesterday. He tells himself that he is looking forward to the Gardens because of their beauty and peacefulness. The guard at the gate is a stark contrast to the City Gardens, he thinks, looking at the man’s sullen, closed face. The guard looks him up and down, like the other one did the day before and again his question is, “Why?” He doesn’t sound too interested in the answer though, just stares at Gax with a suspicious look on his face. Gax explains, trying to keep it vague, but the guard just stares, occasionally spitting towards the side. Gax swallows. Should he ask the guard to let him through, or what should he do? The guard looks up and down the deserted street. “You alone?” He squints at Gax, as if determined to tell whether Gax is speaking the truth or not. Gax nods, yes, he is alone. The answer seems to do the trick, for the guard moves slightly to the side. For a moment Gax wonders if the man actually means for him to get through, or whether he moved to find a more comfortable way to stand.
Gax decides to assume the man meant for him to get through, so he slips past the guard, smelling fish on the man’s breath. When he draws next to the guard, he looks straight at Gax and hisses, “Don’t let us find out that you tricked us. We will always find out and you’ll find yourself beyond the hills in a lot less time than it takes to make garum!” Gax swallows. He still has no idea what garum is, but the message is clear enough. Gax sinks down on what he now calls ‘his’ bench, his legs refusing to take another step. He is sweating and not just from the heat in the city. This guard had been very unpleasant, he thinks, trying to rationalise the incident, telling himself the guy is just a bully, trying to wind people up. He was even older than yesterday’s guard and had a very cynical air about him. Gax rubs his neck. He has nothing to worry about; not yet, anyway. He leans back on the hard bench, staring at the deep blue sky, not a cloud to be seen. The quietness helps and Gax finds himself relaxing after a while. He can hear distant voices, mainly shrill children’s ones, but he’s half dozing off, so the voices sound like a soft mumbling stream, like the river near his home, licking the steep banks.
Gax sits up; the warm sun on his face, the quietness, all have helped to restore his spirits. Now he feels restless, drawn to the fountain and its basin. He walks over, humming a song to himself, pulling a face as he realises that he has been humming extra quietly, for fear of another lecture about forbidden music. He reaches the fountain, his eyes tracing the rubbed out letters on the edge, then he looks at the bench where the old woman sat. His heart does a wild jump, for she is there again. Gax is thrilled. It feels good to see and recognise people in this place. He wanders over, trying to make it look accidental and casual, as he doesn’t want attention drawn to them. He sits down on the same bench, not looking at her, and makes sure there is a respectable gap between them. He has so many questions burning inside him, but he doesn’t want to frighten her. Also, the fact that she knows the verse doesn’t mean she is sympathetic to the Book.
He leans back, trying to look like a tourist, relaxing near the fountain. Softly he asks, “How come you knew the verse?” Her gnarled hands doing their magic with the knitting needles stop. He can hear her breathing speeding up, but she doesn’t answer him. “Someone told me about the team erasing the verse, blindfolded,” he adds, hoping it will help her to understand that he isn’t a threat. The woman resumes her knitting, slowly moving her finger with the yarn.
“My husband was on the team,” she finally whispers back. “He went over the night before, it was before they locked the gates at night. He read the verse and told me about it. He knew where it was from too.” Tears appear in her eyes, and she stops and looks at the fountain, the cheerful noise of the splashing water in stark contrast. Gax breathes in deeply. Incredible, her husband had been one of the blindfolded men, but the blindfold had come too late.
“Do you know where it is from,” he whispers, a tiny part of him glowing with a new sense of purpose. After all, this is what his job as operator looks like, or at least should look like. She nods, her paper-like face wet now.
“He had a Book, for a while at least,” she answers, Gax having to strain to hear her voice. “He read it to me often, we both loved it, believed it, followed it.” She sighs, cheeks dry now, and her eyes glow as she remembers those days. Gax just waits and she glances at him, briefly. “One day, he mentioned the Book and how it speaks of Life giving water to a close friend. They came the next day.” Gax blinked, the refreshing spray from the fountain suddenly feeling freezing cold, making him shiver. He asks her who came and she looks at him, puzzled. “The guard of course. They found the Book easy enough, for our house was small, so hiding it wasn’t possible. They took him to the council, who sent him beyond the hills for life. They usually do when someone is found with the Book.” Did she mean for it to sound like a warning, or a threat? Gax swallows, thinking of his hiding place. It’s not the worst hiding place, but definitely not the best either. He has been careless with his Book and he resolves to find a better place straight away. “I never saw my husband again, or heard from him. I have lost count the amount of summers I have lived without him. They put pressure on me to go back on the Nuptialem List, but I jus
t couldn’t.”
Gax sits in stunned silence. They sent her husband beyond the hills and that is the end of him? They even make it clear that it is the end, by telling you to go back on the Nuptialem list? “Do you know if your husband is still alive?” He asks her. She shakes her head and tells him that she doesn’t know, but she doesn’t think he can be. Not many people live that long beyond the hills.
“You see, other crimes and faults they feel can be rehabilitated, but followers of this Book, well, we can’t, can we?” She smiles suddenly, her eyes glowing. “I was afraid all these years,” she carries on, more animated than ever, “and now I’m regretting it. I lived as quietly as I could, kept myself totally to myself, and now tomorrow I’m going Downstream. So what good has it done me? If only I had shared, or shown people the difference, like you are different,” she sighs, and pats his hand, making a huge obstacle jump into Gax’s throat, for it’s exactly the way his Grandma does it. “Stay different,” she whispers, urgently, “don’t blend in, be one of them. May you be richly blessed, young man and may God Himself protect you.” She gets up, putting her knitting in the bag and whilst Gax is still struggling against his own tears, nodding silently, she shuffles off. She looks round once, points to the basin, then upwards, then she is gone. Gax is alone.
Walled City (The Elabi Chronicles Book 1) Page 10
