by T. J. Mines
"Hi Meryam," the lady behind the counter says, "this is Abdul."
"I thought so Liza," Meryam answers, "thank you though."
Meryam stops in front of Abdul, who's still sitting. She looks down on him. From this angle she looks imposing. She sticks out her hand in greeting. Abdul looks at the hand. It's calloused from manual labor but the nails are manicured and clean. She smiles. Her whole face lights up with it.
Then is occurs to Abdul that she's waiting for him to take her hand in greeting. Flustered he stands and takes the hand. He starts shaking it like a water pump.
"Hi, you're Meryam," he starts, "no, I'm Abdul. Wait. Yes, you're Meryam and I'm Abdul." He stops pumping her arm and looks away. The pressure of her hand in his loosens. A moment later he realizes that he should let go now. He looks up, meeting her eyes. They have an amused twinkle in them. Then he lets her hand go. His now lonely hand falls down his side. A sheepish smile covers his face.
"So," she says, "I'm Meryam and you're Abdul. Good that we established that. Any more revelations?"
Abdul looks down again.
"Well," he says, "I'm here for a job as farmer." He looks up again, not quite meeting her eyes this time. He mouth is just perfect. The full lips are just a bit dry. She's not wearing lipstick. The corners of her mouth point up in a natural smile. He blushes a bright red.
"And?" she asks.
"And?" he replies.
She puts a hand on her hip and tilts her head.
"And I'll be going now," Abdul says. He turns towards the exit.
"Why? Aren't you a farmer?" Meryam asks.
Abdul turns back at her.
"Yes I am," he says.
"Then why go?"
"Because… I don't know."
"Don't you want to show what you know or can do?"
"Well yes."
"And don't you want to work here?" Meryam gestures at the building around them.
"Well, yes," Abdul says again.
"Come on then," Meryam says and turns to the left set of doors. Abdul follows her through them and up the staircase. Behind them the lady behind the counter, Liza, shouts a good luck to him.
They go up twelve flights of steps, exiting the stairwell at the sixth floor. As Abdul enters the space beyond the doors he stops. He has to take it all in. He can see the other staircase in front of him. Surrounding it, and them, are all kinds of vegetables growing. There is no soil anywhere in sight, it's just multiple layers of shelves stacked with produce. And it all is drenched in sunlight. He can hear dripping water from all over the place. He walks over to the nearest plants and takes a closer look. He can see mats in which the roots take hold. The mats are moist. From multiple outlets drops of water fall onto the mats. The artificial soil looks like rubber with bits in them. He steps back and tries to take in the full extend of what's being done here.
"And?" Meryam says, "What do you think?"
"But how?" Abdul answers.
Meryam laughs and walks over to stand next to him.
"That's for you to learn when you get the job," she says, "but first I have to make sure you know what to do."
"Yeah but, how do you get the correct amount of sunlight in?" Abdul starts, "And the air is so much warmer than outside. Also, the carbon dioxide values in here must be through the roof to get this kind of results. What is it, a thousand parts per million?"
"Closer to 1400," Meryam answers.
"Wow, that's impressive." Abdul walks over to a black hose coming down from the ceiling. It splits off at every shelve.
"It this where you get the water and nutritions from?" he asks.
"Yes, and no," Meryam answers, "that is the main water feed for all the shelves we are standing at. But the nutrition isn't added to the water."
"Then it must be in the mats," Abdul says, "do you make the mats yourself?"
"Yes, we do."
"So you can alter the nutritional value of each mat to the plant that's going to grow on it?"
"Very clever, yes, we can and do."
Abdul walks back to Meryam. She can see the excitement in his walk and the questions he asks are promising. He stops in front of her, looking around them at the produce and the techniques involved.
"From your questions I gather you know your way around farming," Meryam says, "but I'm not sure you're a good farmer fit to work here."
"Why not?" Abdul asks, "I know I'm used to open air farming in soil and have to rely on natural irrigation or water the plants manually. But I do know how plants work and how you can help them grow."
"For instance, that lettuce there," Abdul points at a shelve, "that is getting close to harvesting, but you could wait for three to four days for it to get a bit more color on it. That will sell better."
"You're right," Meryam agrees, "for the restaurants we grow them to look tasty too. For the markets the produce just needs to be as cheap as possible so we'll harvest those this afternoon."
"We?" Abdul asks in anticipation, "as in, we two?"
"Sure," Meryam says, "that way I can see how you work and what skills you have."
"Fine, lettuce is easy." Abdul smiles at Meryam. His awkwardness all gone in the face of doing familiar work.
"We'll see," Meryam says.
She takes them back down to the second floor to get him changed into a more appropriate working attire.
That afternoon Abdul shows his farming skills. He harvests several vegetables and helps clean up the spent mats. While they work Abdul gets to know Meryam a bit better. She in turn gets to know everything about Abdul, at least up until he entered Du Bois. What happened to him here is still a sore point and not something he's going to divulge to a woman he starts to like.
As it gets darker outside the light inside the farm dies too. They put away the tools they used and get the harvest into an elevator. Abdul has never seen an actual elevator before, but the concept is clear and very simple. With the rope, counterweight and pullies up top the platform can take a lot of weight. They end up at the second floor together. The rest of the people working the day shift are gone and the night shift, mainly monitoring systems and guarding against marauders, started an hour ago. They are the last ones in the changing room.
Meryam takes off her coveralls and boots. She now walks around in shorts and a white shirt, which Abdul doesn't mind at all. He takes his suit off as well. She shows him where the showers are. These too are simple and are communal. There are stalls though, and each enters their own one to shower off sweat and plant residue. After the quick shower they get dressed at either side of the lockers places in the room. Abdul can hear what she's doing, but can't see a thing.
He waits for her to join him at the exit.
"And? Do I have a job?" he asks her as she joins him down the stairs.
"Yes you do," she says, "you did well today."
"Thanks," he smiles, "I had a good teacher."
"I didn't have to teach you much," Meryam laughs, "I'll expect you to start tomorrow morning at eight. Be fresh, okay?"
"I will," Abdul assures her, "After today I think I'll find my bed and sleep like a log."
With that they exit the building and each go their separate way.
The next morning Abdul reports at the reception counter. He's directed upstairs to the changing room where he receives a basic farmers outfit containing two sets of gloves, boots, two pairs of coveralls and a cap. He is assigned a private locker which he can open using his chip. At eight o'clock he's standing on the sixth floor, fully dressed for work and ready to receive orders.
Meryam enters with two other farmers. She introduces Abdul to Chris and Rose. They pair up and start the daily maintenance and harvesting of the vegetables. Chris and Rose walk off to the other side of the floor. Abdul is pleased to see he'll be working with Meryam.
"How was your evening?" Abdul asks.
"Oh," Meryam says, "well, nothing special. Yours?"
"I got something to eat and went back to the hostel," Abdul explains, "There I went
to bed early and slept like a log."
"Good for you," Meryam says. Then she starts explaining how they're going to reset the mats where they harvested the lettuce the day before.
The rest of the morning they only talk about what's to be done. They complete a lot of tasks before lunch and both are pleased at their progress. They even help out Chris and Rose at a particular difficult process where they had to remove part of a plant without damaging the other plants around it.
A horn sounds throughout the building.
"Lunchtime!" Chris says, "I'm starving."
"Me too," Rose says, "I haven't got the chance to have breakfast today."
"Why not?" Abdul asks.
"Wouldn't you want to know!" Chris quips, "Rose is quite the party girl at night!"
"Ha ha," Rose says, "No, I did not go to a party last night."
"Then what did you do?" Meryam asks.
"I went to Robert's yesterday."
"Really?" Chris says, "Why did you want to go to that creeps place?"
"He's no creep," Rose says, "He's very sweet. And he made me dinner."
"Like what? Burgers and fries?" Chris laughs.
"No, proper dinner, with candles and three courses. He really did his best."
"Doesn't Robert work in the City Council?" Meryam asks.
"Yes, he does. He's an aide there. Really fancy job," Rose beams.
"Let's finish this and get downstairs," Chris says, "I don't want to talk about creeps anymore."
"He's no creep!" Rose says and slaps Chris.
Together they finish the task and walk down to the cafeteria.
"So Abdul, where are you from?" Chris asks, putting an arm around Abdul's shoulders.
"From Al Bari," Abdul answers.
"Cool!" Chris says, "I've never been there. How's life down south?"
"Warmer," Abdul says, "and less, uhm, free?"
"Less free?" Rose asks.
"I don't know how to explain it," Abdul says, "When I came here I was ushered into a small building and interrogated because I stood in the wrong line."
Chris laughs, shaking Abdul.
"Well, I wasn't chipped," Abdul explains, "Anyway, the guard there was very strict at first but after I checked out he was very nice. He even protected me during a fight at the passport checks.
In Al Bari that wouldn't have happened. There, if you do something wrong you get punished, however small the wrongdoing is. And the punishment is always extreme."
"Like what?" Chris says, "They chop off your hand?"
"If you steal something, yes."
"Wow, really?" Chris stops and turns Abdul to look him in the eye.
"You're serious!" he exclaims.
"Well, yes," Abdul says, "why would I lie about that?"
"No wonder you came here," Rose says.
"What do you mean?" Abdul asks.
"You came here to live here, didn't you?" Rose asks.
"No, I came here on a vacation."
"Oh, but why would you work when you're on vacation?" Chris asks, "That's like reading a book while having sex."
"Chris!" Meryam says.
"Well, it's true!" he explains, "When you have sex you're having a fun time. And reading is boring. So it's the same as when you're on vacation!"
"So you find work boring?" Meryam asks.
"Yes," Chris looks at Meryam, "No, I mean no!"
"Oh good," Meryam says, "Otherwise I had to find you something else to do, like shoveling fertilizer."
"No, no need for that. I'm good. I love my work, don't you Abdul?"
Abdul isn't listening to what Chris is saying. They entered the cafeteria. The large space looks out over the entrance on one side. The other end looks out over Du Bois. At one side it a kitchen serving all kinds of food, all locally grown. A long line of farmers queued up to take their share. Groups of people are eating their food at long tables set in intervals through the space.
"Abdul," Meryam says, "Abdul?"
Chris let go of Abdul and walks up to the queue with Rose. Meryam taps Abdul's shoulder. He shifts his focus to her.
"Yes?" he says.
"We'll have to queue up to get some food today."
"Oh sure." Abdul starts to the end of the line. Several other people are now standing between them and their co-workers from the sixth floor.
"You can choose whatever you want," Meryam explains, "there's fresh bread with whatever you may want to put on it, two kinds of soup, salad condiments and two types of warm dishes, both halal and kosher. You can also choose between several types of drinks from goat's milk to various juices. No alcohol though."
"Oh, that's a lot of choice," Abdul says, "How much is it all?"
"Free of charge, except for the extras like the chocolate or the exotics like the pineapple."
"You have pineapple here?" Abdul asks.
"Of course!" Meryam says, "But since it's such a profitable export good, we have to pay for it too. It's not expensive though. If you want I'll get some for you."
Abdul gives Meryam a warm smile.
"Thank you," he says, "that's very nice of you."
The line moves fast and before he knows it Abdul is sitting next to Meryam and opposite Chris. They saved them two seats at a table. Abdul took some simple bread and cheese with goat's milk. Meryam did buy him a bowl of pineapple. He saves that for last to enjoy the taste as long as he can.
"Have you never had pineapple before?" Rose asks.
"I did once," Abdul says, "My father bought one for the whole family when I was a kid."
"And?" Chris asks.
"I had a few pieces," Abdul elaborates, "but never as much as this."
"Did you like it?" Meryam asks.
"Yes, of course! Otherwise I wouldn't have let you spend your money on it. That would've been wasteful."
"Good," Meryam says and starts on her salad.
The rest of lunch is filled with witty remarks by Chris and annoyed replies by Rose and Meryam. Abdul eats his bread and enjoys his fruit. When all are finished they clean up their plates and get back to work.
That evening Abdul can think of nothing else then Meryam. Her beautiful hair, the way her overalls hug her hips, the way she moves when pruning plants, those lips. Even Greta parading by wearing nothing but her panties can't distract him from his thoughts. He's smitten. The realization awakes other, less pleasant feelings. He's sad that he has to leave, even if he has almost two more weeks to work next to her. And he's terrified of what's going to happen when he should choose to stay in Du Bois.
Leaving his home in Al Bari for a vacation was hard enough on his family. His mother cried for three full nights when he told her he was going away for a while. She came to terms with it just in time to wish him a good vacation. But that only was because she knew he was coming back to her. He's got brothers and sisters, sure, but he is the one helping on the farm and he is clever in what to plant when and how much. The others just help out with the basic stuff. Like watering the plants and weeding. His oldest brother went to join the army. They've never heard from him since. His sisters have been married off as soon as they bled, to relieve the stress of feeding all those people.
Speaking of marriage, they have a girl waiting for him too. She's old enough but didn't start her cycle yet, so she can't marry. He's seen her walking around the neighborhood once or twice but has never talked to her. She's not allowed to anyway. From what he saw she's an average girl. Plain brown hair hanging in strands around her head. Skinny, he could even call her boyish. She could be nice, he doesn't know that. All he knows is that as soon as she finishes her first cycle to prove she can have children, she's coming to live with him as his wife. And they are supposed to make as many children as they can. Repopulate the world, the propaganda says, make Al Bari big again. All those children Abdul sees running around town need to be fed and that is one thing they don't have in abundance.
Anyway, he doesn't want that girl, he wants to have Meryam. He wants to love her and be loved by he
r. Not just the sex, that's just a bonus, he thinks. He wants to share his life with her. He needs to. And the only way is to stay here. He wouldn't want to take her away from here, this fabulous city with it's freedom of speech and thought. She's probably not even a Muslim like he is. Or maybe she is, he doesn't know. It's not something you ask on the second day together, at work. Whatever religion she has he's fine with it. A sweet, lovely, beautiful woman like her can't have an ugly thought in her. As long as she doesn't expect him to join her. Or would he do that for her too?
Abdul turns around in his bed again, not finding the sleep he needs. Tomorrow he's back at work with Meryam and then he can start asking the questions he has. But he has to be careful not to give away his feelings for her. That would make things even worst. Maybe she's married already or she has a boyfriend. He doesn't know anything about her. Except that her eyes are to drown in.
After a fitful night Abdul drags himself out of bed. Most beds around him are occupied with snoring, half dressed people. Greta is in her bed, alone. She's got one shoe on, the other fell on the ground next to the bed. She's drooling. Her face smudged with make-up. Her pillow stuffed between her legs. Abdul walks by and is glad he's not looking at her as a potential wife.
He readies himself in the bathroom and gets dressed. He thinks of Meryam. He's wondering if he could sneak a peek in the showers today. As soon as he thinks it he berates himself. That's just the thing he doesn't want to think about. He's a nice boy and not like most men he met with Greta or those staying in the hostel. He's not a teenager full of hormones anymore. But still, holding Meryam would feel nice.
On his way to the city farm he stops by to grab some breakfast. Not too much, he'll have a healthy lunch later on at work. Yesterday his first credits arrived so he is no longer afraid he won't have enough.
