by C A Gleason
The conversations around him were an inaudible muddle. As much as the bell above the door as it chimed, whenever anyone entered or left the store. Indecipherable as he worked. Unless there were keywords hinting at violence. Then he would notice.
What he often thought about as he swept—as he was doing now—or doing whatever work around the store was needed, and while he minded his own business and while he masked his contempt, was why Easto?
Of all the towns to choose from to corrupt, why did Bloomfeld choose this one?
It could have been any of the towns within the quadrants. Even Westo, Northo, or Southo. Towns between the quadrants weren’t as established or known, but any one of them would have been a better fit for his poor character.
Far easier to control too. From what he’d heard about them. He’d lived in Easto his entire life and only visited major towns with his father, Ito. Ito kept him away from the chaos of the random towns between the quadrants.
Yohiro thought he knew the answer, but it couldn’t be so simple. Was it because Easto was closest to where he was from? Was Bloomfeld that lazy? It made sense because outliers were lazy. According to his father.
They didn’t want to work for it like Ito did, a highly respectable trait and one Yohiro meant to carry on.
But pursuing the job of overseer, leading a town, is hardly attained by someone who is lazy. So actively lazy would be more accurate to describe Easto’s current overseer. Allowing others to do what he should be doing himself.
Bloomfeld also could have built a town anywhere east, between here and Westo, raising it to look like wherever he came from. The problem was that there wasn’t as much currency in those smaller towns, and wealth was surely his prime motivator.
And Easto’s population kept expanding, which meant more pockets to hold currency. But really, someone like Bloomfeld coming here was because of the name and what it meant to everyone. He knew it and exploited it.
They intended to keep heading east but were faced with the reality of questions: what could be further than Easto? Why explore beyond? Everything we could ever want is here, they probably thought.
Getting beyond all the crowds to see what was going on out there must have been tempting. Except rumors of poison and the real danger of outliers surely gave them pause, or made them change their minds altogether.
It was said that those who dwelt east of Easto were without law or judgment. It was often confirmed—through word of mouth—within the safety of towns, because those who tried to venture east of Easto usually lost someone they cared about.
Or they returned to tell a horrible story. And sometimes were never heard from again.
Outliers ruled those lands. They stole and murdered whenever they got the chance and a naïve traveler was exactly who they were hoping to run across to steal their belongings and kill for the little in their possession. Perhaps use them for horrific purposes. Yohiro heard the stories.
Becoming sick from poison was the common culprit, but the truth was they were abducted, forced to conform, or murdered. Hardly anyone set out without goods or currency and everything they owned anymore, unless they didn’t know better.
Travelers were ripe for theft and were rarely left alive, unless they joined whoever stole from them.
The final reason why Easto was so crowded, crammed full of people who failed in one way or another, was because they were afraid. Fearful of what was beyond. The unknown.
Yohiro either heard about it over the net or it was told to him by his father. He was sure the stories were true because he saw weakness on faces. He never saw his father like that. Yohiro would make sure he never looked like that either. Out of respect. Ito worked too hard.
There weren’t many towns known east of Easto anyway. The exception was one to the southeast called Slingtown, but it was well-known for its danger. Its walls were barely standing because of the ruthlessness of its inhabitants.
The leader hardly remained in power long. It was where ruthless outliers ended up. Those who went there went there for trouble.
Over the net, it was said sometimes Slingtown was abandoned for brief periods of time without anyone living there at all. There’d been a gunfight between groups resulting in one side killing off the other.
It was probably a ruse to get more wary and weary travelers to take the bait. Gamble going in Slingtown’s direction as a matter of pride to accomplish what they set out to do in the first place, or what their relatives meant to do. Before they gave up and remained in Easto.
The problem with such hearsay was that there were far too many liars on the net. But with towns it didn’t really matter what was reported. As long as a group of structures was upright, people wanted to live in them. And then somebody always wanted to be the leader.
After, because there was always an after, somebody else would fight for the position. Sometimes a fight using words but more often with violence. It was the truth of those places, Easto, and likely all of Home.
Years ago, Ito was someone heading east to explore, maybe claim some land and even start his own town, but unlike the people Yohiro considered to be failures, his father simply changed his mind after starting a family. And he happened to choose the town of Easto.
What also made it harder for Ito to leave was because his new wife was from here and so was her family. She wanted to stay, so he did too. Shortly after Yohiro was born, his mother passed away, so Yohiro never knew her.
Got in the middle of a skirmish trying to break it up and got shot, he’d been told. His father never accepted the affection of another woman. He was devastated by what happened. Still was. He blamed himself even though others assured him it was not his fault.
His father talked about moving somewhere else for a time when Yohiro was much younger, but he hadn’t mentioned it for years. He’d probably lost interest and motivation considering his age but also his profession.
Instead of exploring more of Home, Ito opened Ito’s General Store And Supplies in the center of town.
Difficult to want to go discover more valuables after figuring a way for everyone to bring them to him. Because of Ito’s business sense, demand, and location, many things of value ended up there.
The name of the store could have easily been Ito’s General Store And Supplies And Guns when it first opened.
Before Overseer Bloomfeld. Back then, there would have been no need to mention guns in the title, a joke, because every store bought and sold them, including Ito’s store.
But because every store carried guns and other weapons, including a few war relics like live grenades and even more destructive weaponry, there was always an influx of strangers coming and going, and gunfights became commonplace.
Few who were in charge at the time, wanted to enforce laws knowing they would end up as dead as those who they were supposed to protect. More often, they held the positions for the currency not to actually risk their lives.
Before it got bad, and then even worse after Bloomfeld, people got along because everyone was armed. A fight or argument was avoided because of guns in either person’s possession.
Those who didn’t live here were often passing through, attracted to its spectacle, what the town represented, and all of the goods the net promised to offer.
If people wanted to live or even thrive here, it was best to mind their own business. Those who didn’t understand or respect how things were, were often run out, left behind, or killed.
Things changed shortly before Overseer Bloomfeld was elected, someone who arrived in Easto within the last few years. He championed himself by insisting he’d be able to clean up the town. Make it safe for everyone to walk down its streets at night.
Why anyone would want to walk down streets at night was a confusing proposal, Yohiro thought. But it worked. Initially.
Bloomfeld campaigned he would make Easto more livable by making it less violent and even the elders of town—who were respected—spoke on his behalf. But they were probably paid with large am
ounts of currency.
Currency was likely used to stoke the violence Bloomfeld claimed to be able to control.
Ito explained to Yohiro how it had been when he first arrived in town as a young man. Many businesses were successful, but success often attracts more people looking to do the same and of course it wasn’t always possible. Skill levels weren’t the same.
His father was even tempered, easy to talk to, intelligent, genuine, and likable. He believed in what he was doing for the town. Some wanted success for selfish reasons. Those types hardly ever got what they were after.
Eventually—Yohiro had been told by his father—goods, guns, and currency became scarce. For a long time, there were too many people and too much demand for everything at a time, when everything was lacking.
Then came frustration and resentment toward those who were successful, like Ito. Escalating tempers led to violence.
Thankfully, the violence wasn’t directed toward his father, as everyone needed him, but toward one another. But like all times during Home’s history, peaking violence eventually valleyed, and it practically disappeared during Bloomfeld’s arrival.
The struggling citizens of Easto were taken by Bloomfeld’s personality because of everything he represented with his promises. Many felt he was the answer to their problems and his election was nearly unanimous.
After he was declared overseer, Bloomfeld declared no guns were allowed within town limits. Except for himself and those he chose to work for him as his deputies.
Ironic, because now the dirt roads of Easto are often soaked with the blood of those dying from gunblast wounds. It’s rare when two days pass without a gunfight involving a deputy. The new overseer was likely one of the outliers he declared he would protect Easto’s citizens from.
But declaring to protect citizens was only to get elected. It was rumored that the deputies he chose were part of his old gang from when he lived out east.
Bloomfeld just told the people what they wanted to hear. Yohiro didn’t believe in him as others did. But he didn’t tell anyone, aside from his father, for fear of repercussions. Not against himself, he was prepared for violence, but against his father.
Ito and Yohiro needed the store to make a living. Without it they’d have to move, which might not be a bad idea considering how dangerous things were lately. But Easto was their home.
Others decided Easto would be their home too. The town was a constant influx of strangers. But they didn’t have the same sensibilities as those who preceded them. Or the experience to know better. For Bloomfeld, it was the perfect time to come into power.
What once was a functional, profitable town, where townsfolk were older and mature enough to handle the responsibility of owning guns, changed after Bloomfeld was elected.
The overseer isn’t as he seems. Gunblasts were heard night and day before Bloomfeld and then they stopped. For a while. Still, many naïve townsfolk were grateful.
But Yohiro knew better.
Outliers causing the trouble knew Bloomfeld from before. They were the reason the trouble began. When Bloomfeld finally arrived, he simply took over his old gang, those who were still alive, by being elected overseer.
It was all part of an elaborate plan to relocate his gang to a profitable town. And now he was even profiting from his ability to manipulate. The violence resumed.
Now it’s those in charge doing the killing and robbing. No one will stop them.
But someone must.
10. Royah
“You pulled the trigger.”
It wasn’t a question. Her mom knew. Anger, worry, frustration, compassion, the emotions were all over Mayah’s face.
She continued to stare at Royah, waiting for a response. Wanting to comfort her daughter, detesting the thought of her being even remotely in the vicinity of danger.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“Why didn’t you come home straight away?”
“I wanted to make sure I wasn’t followed.”
Mayah must have seen Royah relax because she did the same. How long would Mayah see her as her little girl? Probably always, even though Royah was a grown woman. No doubt it was difficult for mothers to accept that daughters grew up.
Dressed in coveralls, her mom took a break from re-assembling the air circulator powered by the sun on the side of the house. There were still pieces of it everywhere. She was cleaning them and covered in grime.
Coveralls were pretty much what she wore every day, because they were comfortable but also to hide her figure. She also kept her hair short. Her mom thought it best to blend in with the men. To look like one, being a single parent.
Precautions to seem masculine would better protect her daughter. But she didn’t rely on that alone. She was too old to have a baby now, which made her practically unnoticeable to men. And there were always guns nearby to deter any unwanted interest.
But Mayah did enjoy what most considered to be manly activities. She was always working on a project or looking to help a neighbor or friend with theirs. She liked to stay busy. Royah was a lot like her.
Royah didn’t want her mom to worry and distracting her, or anyone, was one of the best ways. “Circulator quit?”
“Gasping. I want it to breathe.”
A solar circulator would run clean air throughout the inside of a house forever. As long as it remained standing. Unless air vents were blocked with dirt and debris. They needed to be taken apart and cleaned every so often.
Too often, in Royah’s opinion. She especially thought so when she was made to help.
Mayah was the type of person who preferred to work rather than relax. And she liked to chat as she labored, always chewing on a thought or a theory she enjoyed explaining, which was why Royah was a worker too. It was the perfect opportunity to bond with her mom.
Sometimes, when Mayah sat down she was so tired that she fell asleep in her chair. It was even common for her to nod off in the middle of a conversation.
“Want some help?”
Mayah rubbed her fingers with a rag. “What happened out there?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Royah said as calmly as possible. She eyed all identical curved pieces of metal. “Will you tell me where to start?”
Mayah’s eyebrows arched. “You shouldn’t have to handle anything…Tell me so it’ll never happen again.”
Royah tried to hide her true feelings about it, but it was difficult to hide things from her mom. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to forget it like it never happened.
“It was nothing.”
“Royah. You can tell me. It’s okay.”
“I won’t have to worry about them again. And neither will Home.”
Mayah nodded, relieved. A heavy inward breath expanding her bust beneath her coveralls. But then worry returned.
“The overseer will want to know who was doing the shooting.”
“I spoke to her already.”
Mayah was surprised. “You did?”
“This isn’t the first time . . .”
The alarm on Mayah’s face was immediate. Royah regretted allowing it to slip out. She shouldn’t have referenced the crime. Her mom was well aware of the low folk who frequented busy towns.
Mayah’s jaw clenched and she did her best to fight back glistening tears. Royah wanted to assure her she could protect herself.
“I explained what happened in its entirety. To her and her deputies. Turns out, they were keeping an eye on them since they arrived. They apologized. I know they were just telling me what I wanted to hear. It happens far too often to others too, but it was dealt with.”
“They took care of the dead?”
“Yes.”
Mayah looked upward at the dark sky. “There’s something I have to tell you. Let’s go inside.”
“What about the circulator?”
“It’ll be fine.” She pulled a tarp over the loose pieces and held it down with rocks at the ready. “I’ll get back to it later.”
&
nbsp; “Is everything all right?”
She grinned. “Town is infested with eavesdroppers. And rain will be here soon.”
“My mom has secrets, huh. What is it?”
Mayah was suddenly serious. “Not out here. Not at night.”
Westo wasn’t as dangerous as other towns, but it was getting dark and if things were going to get dangerous it was usually at night. It was understood and respected for safety. Whatever Mayah wanted to tell her, she obviously didn’t want anyone else to hear.
Which was a little worrisome because her mom was so social. It wasn’t a coincidence that Mayah was working on the circulator in view of everyone, when there was always the option to work in her shop out back.
Mayah enjoyed when the random neighbor’s curiosity got piqued so she could explain what she was doing. But also inquire about what projects might be preoccupying their time, and typically her main objective. To see if they maybe needed some help.
Walking up the stairs of the porch and close to the safety of their home, Royah realized she’d made the mistake of being out too late. Normally her mom was already inside asleep. But she’d stayed up waiting for her.
Except Royah must remember she wasn’t doing anything wrong. They were bad men, so why should she have to hide indoors whenever she wanted to venture out?
Luckily, and skillfully, tonight she’d been able to kill the criminals before they got their hands on her.
Royah and Mayah went inside the house.
11. Yohiro
Yohiro suspected, he’d never voiced it, not even to his father, that Bloomfeld was working with—or even for—someone else. But it didn’t mean Bloomfeld wasn’t consumed with self-interest.
When Yohiro witnessed the overseer walking the streets, he reminded him of a certain type of man. Someone who offers something needed. For Easto it was stability. But his purpose was to take. Completely in self-interest.
Every waking moment for an overseer was supposed to be considering every citizen down every street in town. But Bloomfeld never cared about Easto or its citizens. All he cared about was its currency.
