Uncommon Purpose (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 1)

by P J Strebor

  “Yeah, some of them had a really hard time fitting in.”

  “Hmm.”

  Yeah, he’s not going to bite.

  Even for Moe, entering this new world of adolescent politics held traps and terrors to freeze to heart. She observed, in silent awe and heartbreaking admiration, as Nathan struggled to overcome his natural reserve.

  She had witnessed his remarkable growth over that time from a wary, reticent boy into a confident, mature young man. He had taken his lumps and pushed through, driven by an inner demon that refused to be cowered.

  “I’m taking in the new exhibit at the museum after last class,” Nathan said. “You want to come?”

  “Ha. Soak up the rich diversity and fresh ideas of the city?”

  “It’s only an exhibition, Moe. You should open your mind to new experiences.”

  “You know what I told you, last time you said that.”

  “Ah, yeah. And if I recall, I told you that it was physically impossible.”

  They both chuckled. As the dorm came into view Nathan took off at a sprint.

  For Moe and Nathan the pace of life at Cranbourne quickened with their growing maturity, the full rich sweetness of life filling them with wondrous aspirations for the future.

  ***

  Olivia Marshall spent her first day at Julia Bryant Senior High School in a self absorbed state of misery. How could her parents have done this to her? All of her friends were on Athens along with her well planned hopes for the future. Then out of the blue her father had been assigned to this primitive back world to replace the retiring Governor. Of all the damnable bad luck that could befall a girl. Olivia tried to comfort herself with probably the oldest dirge known to the human race.

  Why me?

  The Anastasia Kimbrough Academy for Young Ladies had been her home since her tenth year. The Academy accepted only the children of privilege from families of note, holding them to its nurturing bosom whilst studiously preparing them for a bright future within the highest echelons of Republican society.

  Now, thanks to her parents, her well planned future lay in ruins.

  Bad enough for her to be marooned on this world far from civilization and friends, but to be put in with the general school population. Intolerable. The Kastorians frightened her, their dry, brash behavior setting her nerves on edge. They knew nothing of political correctness or polite reserve.

  Olivia entered the classroom with her head held high, in the manner of a true Republican. She held her broad brimmed hat in both hands to stop them from shaking. The swish of her long stylish dress against the floor made a few of the girls pay attention. Her heart raced as she struggled to maintain her poise.

  Her introduction to the nightmare began with the teacher. She could not imagine how this colonial had been granted a teaching certificate. A thin young woman with long, dark brown hair, stood before the class. She turned and smiled as Olivia stepped into the room.

  "You must be Olivia," she said. Olivia maintained her poise and offered her credentials that contained her transfer records from the Anastasia Kimbrough Academy for Young Ladies. The teacher glanced at them. "Good old AKA." She seemed unusually amused with Olivia's stunned reaction, but moved on rapidly. "I'm Elenora Duprea," she said. Not Miss Duprea, mind you, but Elenora. Then she touched her on the shoulder to turn her around to face the class. This would be an unforgivable faux pas within the better circles of Athenian society. .

  "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, "we have someone new joining our class today. This is Olivia Marshall who has just arrived from the Republic."

  The range of expressions varied immensely amongst the thirty odd students. Some smiled with irritating indulgence, some grimaced, one leered and two of them sitting side by side at the back of the class exchanged knowing looks. That annoyed her more than anything else. These barbarians dared to think they knew something about her. Such presumption would earn them a good thrashing back home.

  "I would like everyone to make her feel welcome," Elenora continued. "Most of you are aware of what it's like to arrive at this school as strangers. So please, show Olivia the same courtesy that you were shown when you first came here."

  "My first day here a group of seniors gave me a wedgy in the middle of the quadrangle," one of the boys said. The class broke into open laughter, including the teacher. Unbelievable.

  "Well I certainly hope you will treat Olivia with a little more respect than that," the teacher said, and again touched her on the shoulder. "Take a seat, Olivia."

  She looked around the classroom and saw three empty seats. "Where?" she asked feeling as if she wanted to find somewhere dark to hide.

  "Anywhere you like."

  Incredible. Back at the Academy everyone had their place set out. 'A place for everyone and everyone in their place'. Olivia looked at the available seating and her eyes widened in horror. A particularly large boy, the one with the leer apparently stuck to his chubby face, patted his broad thigh and beckoned her on. Could he mean? No, surely not. Her startled expression only fed the insanity. The entire class roared with laughter as she stood frozen with disbelief.

  "Jonathan!" the teacher warned. "Olivia, sit there," she said, pointing to the spare seat at the back of the room.

  Olivia scurried to the seat, next to the girl with the lop-sided smile, keeping her eyes averted from the rest of the class. The lesson commenced and for the next two hours she kept her head down, until the period ended and the bell sounded for recess. She stayed in place as the students filed out like the disorderly rabble that they were. When the cacophony ceased, she raised her eyes to find two of the colonials standing before her. The same two, both with amused expressions on their faces.

  "Welcome to Kastoria." Moderately shorter than the boy and of slight but robust build, her lethargic colonial accent failed to cover the toughness that lurked behind her open smile. Her almond shaped eyes had a twinkle in them that made the light hazel color shine with mischief from her chocolate tanned face. "I'm Moe Okuma, and this troublemaker," she hooked a thumb over her shoulder at the boy, "is Nathan Telford."

  Olivia stared at the strange duo, caught in a paralysis of indecision. She did not wish to encourage any of these people, for she could not be sure if they intended to do her harm. She just wanted to run home and beg her mother to let her flee back to Athens, back to safety.

  The girl, Moe, glanced over her shoulder and snorted softly at the ridiculously wry expression that greeted her. The boy had obviously been involved in some type of nefarious activity in recent times. His left arm hung in a loose, old fashioned sling, bandaged to the fingers. His face bore abrasions and bruises and a soft bandage covered a spot on the back of his head. Still, he did have a certain …

  "Perhaps you need to speak slowly," the boy drawled. "Republicans aren't all that bright."

  "I understand you, colonial," she spat through set teeth. Olivia immediately regretted her outburst, noticing for the first time that the room contained only the three of them. No sounds came from the outside corridor. "If you dare to touch me I will have my father punish you in the most severe manner imaginable. He is the new Governor, you know," she added with menace. She assumed that fact alone should be sufficient to put these colonials in their place.

  A quizzical expression covered Moe’s face that was both curious and sadly amused at the same time. The boy, Nathan, began to chuckle. His eyes never left hers even though his head shook slowly. Olivia's blood boiled.

  "Don't laugh at me you … you …"

  "Colonial barbarian?" Nathan offered. That started the other one laughing.

  Both of them laughing at her now. Her chest began to heave with fury at this unbearable outrage. "Don't laugh at me!" Her scream sounded oddly petulant, which surprised her.

  "Then stop acting like an obnoxious core borer," Moe said. "If you weren't such a twit, and gave us a chance to talk, you’d have found out that we were only going to offer to show you around. Y
ou know, like where the cafeteria is, for example.” She stared at Olivia with a mixture of contempt and pity.”You know, we don't actually eat people out here in the colonies. Do we Nathan?" she asked without turning around.

  "Not recently," he said, showing the same look of pity.

  Pity! Now on top of everything else these colonials were showing her pity. Her anger had grown to a level where she dared not to speak.

  Moe stepped back from her table and looked at her friend. "It would seem that our welcoming committee of two is not appreciated." She shook her head again and turned to leave. "Let's go Nathan." He stood in place, his soft gaze locked onto her.

  "I'll be along in a minute." His voice held no trace of bitterness or anger. Moe grunted disagreeably and left her alone with him.

  Olivia should have been terrified of him, a rough colonial oaf covered in bandages. She could detect nothing in the way of malice in his beautiful gray eyes. On the contrary, his quiet manner had a decidedly calming effect on her.

  He sat down on the table in front of her and put his feet on the chair, resting his forearms on his knees. "First day at a new school can be rough," he said. "I was not quite fourteen when I first arrived on Kastoria, and I was pretty nervous about the whole thing." A shadow passed over his eyes. "Unlike you, I didn't have my family with me, which made it doubly nerve racking. But I adjusted to life here, and so can you. Kastorians are as fine a people as you will find anywhere. They are generally a warm and friendly people ready to give any new comer a fair go. All we ask in return is a modicum of good manners."

  He had been doing remarkably well up till that point. "Are you suggesting that I lack good manners?" Olivia said narrowing her eyes.

  "Two people just tried to help you fit in around here and you spat on us for our efforts. You don't know anything about us and vice versa, but we have an old tradition out here in the colonies, that when someone offers you the hand of friendship you don't slap it away. On Kastoria that sort of behavior is generally considered to be ill- mannered."

  He stood and strolled from the class room without another word, leaving her stunned and ambivalent.

  What just happened? Had a colonial lectured her on good manners?

  Although Olivia wanted, more than anything, to flee to from this place to the safety of her home, she forced herself to remain and complete the rest of the school day. She spoke to no one and no one spoke to her. During the lunch break she sought refuge in the library and locked herself into a computer booth. Many of the students stared at her as she marched with stiff formality through the corridors, transiting between classes.

  As the relentless day crawled on Olivia began to wonder if she had, in fact, been rude to Nathan and his friend. She detested bad manners and could not believe that she had been guilty of such a crime. Throughout the afternoon she heard nothing that the teachers said. Her mind reran the incident with the two colonials over and over. Had she been so scared of the unknown that she acted poorly?

  It turned out to be the longest day of her life and when the final bell rang she ran from the classroom and fled down the stairs till she found herself alone in the front quadrangle where she sought out a shady alcove and wept. Her outburst lasted only a minute and she regained her control as the sound of stampeding feet grew.

  ***

  Moe and Nathan walked casually down the front steps of the school and onto the quadrangle. The quad had for years been the traditional after school meeting place for the cliques of teenagers to discuss the day's events. Since recess, Nathan had slipped into one of his more reticent moods. Moe had a suspicion as to what might be on his mind and chose to confront the issue in her usual subtle way.

  "So, did you have a nice talk with your little Athenian girlfriend?"

  He shot her an amusingly dangerous look but said nothing.

  He had never appreciated her attempts to make him out to be the great lothario of the school. He did not chase girls and appeared to be continually surprised - and at times a little embarrassed - by the attention paid to him by the mature Kastorian teenage girls.

  Moe slapped him playfully on his good shoulder. "What's up, Nate?" Again, he just shook his head in that way that meant that he wasn't in the mood to discuss it.

  Moe knew that he must be in a degree of discomfort after his hunting accident. Even with a broken arm, cracked ribs and lacerations from head to toe, Nathan had never been the sort of person to consult a doctor for pain relief. It appeared that something else prayed on his mind other than his injuries. Then, without warning, the gentleness returned to his eyes.

  Olivia Marshal waited at the bottom of the steps leading from the quadrangle. Her head held high in the tradition of an upper class Athenian. Her expression betrayed by the slight drooping of her shoulders. As they approached, she stepped in front of them. Placing her right hand over her heart, she bowed slightly from the waist in the traditional Athenian greeting. The quadrangle and never seen such a display and all sound and movement faded away.

  Nathan returned the gesture and that must have really smarted with his ribs in their condition. Moe didn't know he could do that.

  "I beseech you Burgess Telford, a word with you if I might," she said and then as an afterthought noticed Moe. "And you too, of course, Burgess Okuma." Moe resisted the urge to attempt the bow and held back the laugh that threatened to have Nathan at her throat.

  His focus remained locked onto Olivia with an intensity that Moe had never seen from him with any other girl. She supposed that Olivia may be a snotty nosed, upper class Republican cow, but with those wide light brown eyes set into a fine boned alabaster face, some people might consider her attractive. On the other hand, her pompous Athenian accent made Moe's skin crawl. Nathan didn't seem to notice.

  "Earlier today," she began, brushing a mass of fine chestnut hair from her face, "when you approached me, it is possible that I may have misinterpreted your intentions." Her eyes dropped for just an instant then returned to Nathan. "I abhor poor manners and if I have judged you harshly, and displayed such bad manners, I wish to offer my sincerest apologies."

  A comfortable smile settled onto Nathan's face as their eyes locked onto one another. Although both of them were included in her apology, Moe suspected that she no longer existed within the same universe as these two. She cleared her throat breaking the spell. Nathan blinked awkwardly before returning to the world of the living.

  "I bet that must have taken a lot for you say."

  Olivia shrugged.

  "Apology accepted."

  "That goes for me too," Moe added, rolling her eyes skyward.

  "Thank you, Burgess Okuma," Olivia said, sparing her the briefest moment of eye contact.

  "Moe," she said. "You're in the colonies now so you might as well get used to how things are from the start. Isn't that right Nathan. Nathan?"

  "Ah, yes," he said. "Moe has a point. Unless you're planning on leaving sometime today?"

  "No, I am stuck on this…world, until graduation."

  "How tragic for you," Moe said, maintaining a straight face.

  He shot Moe a quick nasty look that Olivia missed.

  "I guess you’ll just have to make the best of things, " Nathan suggested.

  "Yes, I expect you are correct," she said. They continued to stare at one another silently until she finally groped for something to say. "Burgess Tel…" he held up a single finger. "Nathan, may I ask what happened to you?" she asked running her eyes over his damaged body.

  "Hunting accident."

  She nodded without speaking, so Moe took the opportunity.

  "Yes, Nathan is one of the best hunters in the province." She kept her voice light although the guilt still stung her. If she hadn't have broken cover too soon and spooked the buck Nathan would not have been caught out of position. "Until that big buck got the better of him."

  "Buck?"

  "It's sort of a deer," Nathan said.

  "A deer?" For the first
time that day, she smiled without reserve. Naturally, her teeth were two perfect, straight white rows. "A deer did all that to you?" She held a hand to her mouth to contain a soundless giggle.

  Nathan shrugged his good shoulder.

  "The mighty hunter was bushwhacked by a three hundred kilogram stag," Moe said. "He was quite frisky, even for this time of the year."

  She granted Moe the privilege of looking at her while she spoke but then turned a questioning eye on Nathan.

  "Mating season." Moe had never seen such a lewd expression on her friend's face.

  Olivia blushed, coyly. "Oh, I see."

  The area around them had thinned out since their arrival, with students going about their after school activities. However, a lone figure, who had been lurking at the periphery of their conversation, stepped forward.

  "Burgess Marshall." The voice held a ridiculously deep note coming from a sixteen year old. Olivia started then struggled to suppress a shudder as she recognized the owner of the voice.

  "Burgess Sizemore," Jonathan said in introduction. He attempted to emulate the bow that Nathan had made look so easy but couldn't quite pull it off.

  From the look on her face, Olivia recognized him as the one who had enticed her to sit on his knee during class. A blind man could tell that he should really have left it at that. As with many overly large young men, he considered that his physicality would be the salient factor in any attempted courtship. Considering his lack of success with the local girls, he should have given up by now, but stubbornly continued to believe himself to be in the same league with Nathan.

  More in an attempt to court favor with Olivia than any other reason, he acknowledged her companions. "Okmunga, Tenfold," he said shortly.

  "Sizeless," Moe replied.

  Jonathan took note of Nathan's physical condition and that bolstered his confidence. "Burgess Marshall," he said, using the formal title only used in the Republic, "I was wondering if you would care to join me for refreshments at the campus coffee house. As my guest of course."

  "That is very kind of you Burg…" Nathan cleared his throat. "Thank you, Jonathan, but I have another engagement." Her Athenian upbringing and regard for good manners would not allow her to tell him the truth. Her polite white lie came into conflict with the unofficial Athenian mandate of never telling a lie. Truth after all, had set Athens free and elevated her above the rest of humanity. That conflict caused her to be a terrible liar and Jonathan immediately saw through her sham.