I gazed into his eyes for a few moments, scanning them for any sign of doubt. “When will you be back?” I finally asked, the words dripping from my lips in a dejected tone.
“A few days…maybe a week, tops.” He sounded unsure.
“What about my birthday?”
“I’ll be back for it; I promise. Just tell my parents I’ll be staying with you for a while; I don’t want them to know I’ve left.”
I still had a knot in my stomach at the thought. “And if you miss Christmas?”
“I won’t.”
We continued to dance in silence and I pulled him in close. We embraced each other as the song ended and when he started to let go I persisted in my pleas. “Please don’t do this, Kay. Whatever you need to do, we will do it together when we leave this place.”
“I have to do this before then.” My hands slowly slid from around his neck and I briefly held his in mine. I didn’t know what else to say; he already had this planned out.
The rest of our night was quieter than usual. I had so much to say but knew how fruitless it would be, yet Kay seemed excited, almost willing the night to go faster so he could finally leave. I don’t know why he thought it was a good idea, and why he didn’t listen. Kay and my father were the only people I could rely on in my life, and they both turned their back on me. How could he be so callous?
I saw Kay escape through the front door later that night, when everyone was distracted by a speech that was being given for friends and family.
I should have pleaded harder. And I should have held him longer.
*
I was so mad at him at first. He knows what happened with my father; why would he do the same thing to me? The entire town was against me when the weeks went by and it became obvious that Kay was gone. I was blamed for everything. My mom tried to defend me though, for what little that was worth. At home, though…she avoided me; things were back to normal in that regard. As I had thought about Kay, I went over our last conversation over and over again in my mind, scrutinizing every last word we had said. He had wanted to speak to the Provider on his own…because of my father? My dad spoke to the Mediator outside Provisioning days? That couldn’t be right…
The Provisioning was the day we would head out to the Meeting Place and request goods; it happened once every fourteen sunrises. We had a few appointed people to do it; usually people strong enough and charismatic enough to retrieve what we needed from the Mediator. My father was one such person. I remember those days well; as soon as the sun had inched her way into the sky my father would come into my bedroom and kiss me gingerly on the forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” he always said and he always was; I had taken those words for granted. He would haul our cart out from storage near the corral and meet with the others in the centre of town at the bulletin board. Once everyone had arrived with their own carts and sacks, someone would take the notice from the board and they would head up north, into the wasteland and wouldn’t be seen until two days later. It was an arduous journey back with our goods; sometimes the wheels of our carts would get stuck in the sand or our overflowing carts would topple over and cause setbacks in the hasty retreat back home but it was always worth it to see the villager’s faces light up when the items they requested were provided. Nothing was off-limits with the Provisioning; you could ask for anything in the world. Whether the Provider would acquiesce or not was another matter, though.
And that’s just how it went; people would put their name on the piece of paper on the bulletin board along with what they wanted and their desired quantity and then we would head out into the wasteland every 2 weeks to hand the list over to our Mediator. Sometimes our messengers came back with it and sometimes not…but sometimes you would even get more than you asked for! Food and drink, however, were never turned down; even if our source could not provide the right amount, they always provided something.
Who are these ‘sources’, though? Is it one man, or many? I don’t know; no one does. That’s why we even have a Mediator; to ensure that we never find out who provides us these things but I’ll never understand why. Perhaps it was for safety? The reason I even know all this was because I got to accompany the adults on their journey once; me and Kay had finally turned twelve, the proper age to learn about the rules of Provisioning and we volunteered to go.
It was the first, and last, time we volunteered.
It took about a day to arrive at the Meeting Place where the Mediator was already waiting for us. The Mediator was a man who donned robes the colour of the earth with a face that was always obscured by the shadows of his hood. He rarely spoke but when he did, he did so with a voice that demanded respect; he was confident and exuded an air of authority that you could not ignore. He would take our list and then leave, rarely saying a word to anyone as he disappeared into the wasteland. I had tried to follow him that day; I thought we were supposed to but someone held me back.
“You would jeopardize our entire Provisioning if you do that, girl.” I had looked up into the soft face of Richard Marley, his calloused hand resting precariously on my shoulder.
“Why?” I had asked.
“It’s the Mediator’s business now. Following him would show great disrespect to the entire purpose of Provisioning. They provide us with a means to live; the least we can do is show them the privacy they ask for.”
I had watched the robed figure slowly disappear into the sands of the wasteland. “What happens now?”
“Now, we wait.” Richard turned his attention towards the small commotion that was now in full swing behind us, his red, curly hair bobbing incessantly in his movement. “They’re setting up the tents now; you’ll be able to get off your feet soon enough.” He smiled down at me and left to help the other adults as Kay and I continued to watch the speck of a figure in the distance.
“What do you think happens if someone actually followed him?” I had asked my friend, “Do you think anyone has done it before?”
“Probably,” Kay had replied, “how else would we know what happens if you do?”
“True…” I trailed off and we watched the horizon until the tents were finally finished. I remember how curious I was back then; my mind raced with ideas of where the Mediator was going and what we would find if we had followed.
“You should rest for a while…” my father’s voice was soft as he had come up behind me, “we will start cooking supper soon enough. It’s been a long trek for the two of you.”
I had turned and beamed at him, excited that I had gotten to participate in adult activities alongside my father. “But I’m not tired!”
He smiled back. “Well maybe you’ll change your mind when you find how comfortable the pillows and blankets are.” Even at that young of an age, I knew what my father was insinuating; he wanted to discuss matters with the others that were too old for my young ears. I had nodded and ducked into a tent with Kay right behind me. Let them talk; me and Kay’s stories were a thousand times more interesting than anything they had to talk about anyway.
Eventually supper would be made over a roaring campfire as the night drew in around us. I had cuddled up to my father quite tightly that night, my eyes scanning the wasteland around us. It was far too quiet out there and when the sand kicked up you couldn’t see anything around you; my young mind ran rampant with ideas of who knows what lurking in the storms. I had sat at the campfire with the others, my arms wrapped tightly around my father’s as we watched the flames leap towards the dotted sky, causing elongated shadows of the men around me to flicker and dance on the hard sand. The adults talked and laughed about things I didn’t care for as Kay had sat closely beside me, trying to assuage my fears with talks of epic adventures in sunny forests or beaches. He was always doing that; even as a child. It’s funny the things that pass you by…until it’s too late to properly appreciate them.
“The Mediator will arrive in the morning; you two should get some rest.” My father had yawned as he spoke and I restrained myself from doing the s
ame; the heat of a campfire had always made me drowsy. I nodded at him and had immediately wandered my way into the closest tent with my father’s promise of joining me shortly. I had collapsed into the heap of soft sheets and velvety pillows, already about to nod off when I heard the pitter-patter of footsteps outside the tent’s flaps.
“May I come in?” Kay had poked his head inside the tent as I flopped over on the pillows to look at him.
“Of course.” I readjusted the mass of blankets beneath me so Kay would have a comfortable place to sit and I gestured towards it.
He stumbled his way inside; even at twelve he was an impressive height and often fumbled over his own large feet because of it. I always stifled my laughter when it happened, though, until I became used to the sight, as I had seen his reaction when the other children mocked him. He was quite lanky back then and his face would flush bright red when he faltered on his feet. When people laughed, he would frown and become quite sullen for most of the day and it would fall on me to brighten his spirits; much the same way he did for me at the campfire, come to think of it.
Kay had sat cross-legged on the sheets I had piled up for him and smiled at me. “You sure you don’t want to continue our story? It was just getting to the good part!”
I rubbed my eyes. “Not right now, Kay; I’m pretty tired.”
“Oh.” He uttered quietly and he cast his gaze downward.
I had propped myself up on my elbow and studied his disappointed demeanour. “You can sleep in here with me though, if you like; just ‘cuz your parents aren’t here doesn’t mean you gotta be alone.”
With widened eyes he glanced up at me. “Won’t be much room with your dad in here.”
“He won’t mind; you know he thinks of you like family, right?” I casually responded as I stretched out on the pillows. Kays face lit up at my words, though they meant little to me.
“He does?” He eventually asked and I nodded curtly in response. Kay suddenly beamed and leapt to his feet. “I’ll go get my stuff, then!” He clamoured and staggered his way outside before I could respond. I had only had an inkling of it back then but it was something I had grown accustomed to as I got older; Kay hated being alone.
*
“Wake up; he’s here.”
My father’s voice from outside the tent jerked me awake and I looked around wide-eyed. Kay, it seemed, was already up and helping the adults take down the tents; how he could be such an early-riser all the time, I’ll never know. I had to untangle myself from the blankets that had enveloped me multiple times over during the night and I crawled out of the tent, shielding my eyes from the now bright sunlight that washed over the campsite. My father quickly helped me to my feet and patted my wild hair frantically.
“You don’t want to sleep through this, now.” He had said, unfolding my sleeves and adjusting the hem of my pants. “You need to know procedure.”
I yawned. “What does fixing my hair have to do with procedure?”
“It’s out of respect; you don’t want to offend him, do you?”
I hadn’t really understood what my appearance had to do with showing the Mediator respect but if it mattered to my father, then it mattered to me. I combed my fingers through my hair and tied it back tightly as my father rushed towards a group of adults that were struggling to remove the tents from their place in the sand. Everything had to be perfect for the Mediator, it seemed, which had always rubbed me the wrong way; would they really refuse us our goods because a tent was still standing? He knew full well that we set up camp here; what difference did it make? I had shaken my head at the absurdity of it all as I watched the cloaked figure slowly come into view in the distance. There were others with him and one large, covered wagon that was being dragged behind them. Kay had come up beside me to watch the Mediator as well until all of the adults were finally there, waiting for the Mediator with bated breath. He arrived with two other robed figures, one who appeared to be a small boy. The boy had stayed near the back of the group and fidgeted with his robes, hiding behind the others when he noticed us watching him. The Mediator said nothing once again as he looked at us all in turn. He eventually gestured towards the large cart and the adults quickly went to work, filling their respective bags and carts with as much as they could carry. When the Mediator’s cart had reached its end, I had noticed Richard scratch his head and glance up at the Mediator in confusion.
“Where are Anna’s shoes?”
The Mediator did not even look at him as he replied. “The Provider did not deem them necessary.”
“But she has no shoes…her old ones are too small and hurt her feet!” Richard had started but the Mediator quickly interjected.
“The Provider said no.” The cloaked figure’s voice was loud and stern, causing Richard to back up in surprise.
“Ah…alright.” Richard stuttered in response and turned his attention back towards our carts, helping to ensure everyone’s goods were sturdy and packed tightly, just as my father was doing.
I had stared at the Mediator in wary awe and I felt my blood run cold when he had returned my gaze. I gulped and turned my attention away as my father came up beside me. “Thank you, Mediator,” He had said and bowed quickly at the hooded man. “Come along; we need to get back to town.” He looked down towards me now. “We’d like to get there in under a day if possible, so you need to be quick, alright?” He pushed on my shoulder, urging me towards the carts and I was more than happy to oblige.
As we pulled away from the Meeting Place, I cast a cautious glance behind me at the Mediator and his men who stood eerily still, watching us depart into the wasteland. Kay was immediately beside me, watching me with furrowed brow.
“Are you okay?” he whispered as we took up the rear.
“Yeah…kinda creepy though, isn’t it?” I had expected Kay to laugh and slough me off like he usually did to assuage my fears…but instead he nodded.
“I don’t think I’ll be coming back.” A cloud of dust kicked up around us, causing Kay to rub his eyes harshly at the irritation.
“Me either.” I took a handkerchief out of my pocket and quickly tied it around his neck. “You need to start wearing these; it’ll help to keep the sand out.”
“That’s not exactly doing my eyes any favours.” He scoffed.
“I said it would help, not that it would remove all sand forever. You are in a desert, after all.”
He smirked at me. “Well maybe you should do something about that.”
“Oh should I?” I laughed, “I’m just expected to single-handedly save the world, huh?”
“Yup.” He covered his mouth with the blue bandana I had given him but I could still see his smile through its thin fabric.
“Alright, alright,” I replied as I pulled my own handkerchief up, “I’ll save the world. As long as it doesn’t fall on a Friday, though; Fridays are ‘me’ days.” He cackled at my use of a weekday; we didn’t use those words anymore but pretending to be from the before-time was always a fun game of ours. Some of the adults didn’t care for us doing it, though.
We never offered to go to the Meeting Place again and we were never asked. If my father really did speak to the Mediator outside of Provisioning days, then how did we still receive goods every 2 weeks? Wouldn’t it have risked our Provider’s wrath? What did my father know that I didn’t…just what exactly happened to them?
Journal Entry #5,
Still no sign of the men I’m looking for but it’s been quite the day all the same. It all started with something I never thought I’d see out in the desert; we saw a flower. An actual, living flower out here in the wasteland! It was pure white; I’ve never seen it in my books and definitely not in real life! Actual plant life…I couldn’t believe it. We were passing underneath a rock cliff when I saw it growing in the shade; it seemed to be thriving in the harsh winds. I had to stop and study it.
I cradled the silky petals in my fingers and gazed at its beauty; its small leaves rustling gently in the wind. Its fragrance
was subtle but calming, a smell I had never experienced before. It fluttered so innocently…so full of life in such a barren wasteland. Is Kay’s world full of flowers like this? I wanted to take it with me but I knew better; to take it would be to kill it. I had hoped it would continue to prosper and that I could return someday to see an entire garden surrounding it. I wish I could have spared it some water but that was not a luxury I could afford. Whatever the Reckoning had done to this world, somehow this little flower persevered. It must be extremely resilient to still be growing to this day. Maybe the world wasn’t as barren as everyone thought? I grew hopeful at the sight but I knew I had to press on. Someday, little flower…I will come back for you.
We continued on from the beautiful blossom, finding very little throughout the day. Thankfully there were no sandstorms in sight but neither were there any towns…or any other sign of possible life. Where could Kay and my father possibly be? I had almost fallen asleep on Ponika’s back as he slowly treaded onwards when I finally saw something in the distance…a tall building of some sort, I had thought, but regardless it was the best opportunity I had. I urged Ponika towards it and he galloped instantly; perhaps he knew of the promise of it, too. Once we arrived I realized it wasn’t buildings at all, but pillars; large, onyx columns that must have once held aloft something amazing but now lay eerily barren in the sand. I dismounted as I gazed at the sight around us, squinting as the sun occasionally pierced my eyes. The pillars jutted up towards the sky, covered in winding ivy; their heart-shaped leaves fluttered violently in the breeze as I made my way through the large towers of stone. More plant life; maybe I was getting closer to that Utopia? I grabbed a few stray leaves from the ivy and gave them to Ponika, who nibbled on them as we walked. I had never seen things so tall before; what could they mean…who built them? As the sand billowed away under my feet I saw signs of what once must have been a cobblestone street. Where did it lead to, I wonder? There was nothing but sand for miles.
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