by S. K Munt
‘I want a better job,’ Finn explained, to a green-eyed and sandy girl who was trying in vain to husk a coconut. Finn would have helped, but she was pretty sure that she was every bit as weak as she was. ‘But if I want to get it, I have to write a letter explaining why.’
‘My mum wants a better job too,’ the little girl said, scratching her knotted hair. ‘Something that doesn’t involve fish, because she’s allergic to them.’
‘Ugh- that must be so hard,’ Finn remarked. ‘How does she manage it without getting sick?’
‘She wears gloves. But they’re hard to get.’ The girl, who was pretty in Mila’s Tahitian-princess way, looked her up and down and said: ‘I like your shorts- blue used to be my favourite colour.’
Finn glanced down at her tie-dyed shorts. ‘Thanks. What’s your favourite colour now?’
‘I dunno…’ the girl shrugged. ‘It’s hard to tell. Everything’s the colour of sand nowadays, don’t you think?’ She gestured around, and Finn looked, frowning when she realised the child had a point. They’d had a parched start to spring, so everything around them, at least down there on the foreshore, looked brittle and dry, especially while cast against the golden beach, and the sky, which was a pale, bleached blue that day. The king had given the refugees large, white tents, which were now pitched in a row along the foreshore, but they’d been there for so long already that they looked as dusty and tired as the refugees’ stained and faded clothes did.
She’s right… Finn thought, chewing on her lower lip in consternation. Sure, she knew that there would be days where it rained down, restoring the glossiness to everything, and days where the sky would be a bolder blue and the ocean greener, but kids didn’t know that they could count on things like that, so the arduous stretch between autumn and summer was probably feeling like a beige coloured eternity to them all by then. How’s a little kid supposed to know what their favourite colour is, in a world devoid of colour?
Finn looked again from the girls drab beige dress, to her own bright blue shorts and felt her heart twist, remembering the way the other little girl had looked at her, as she’d headed off to the Gala with big eyes round with awe and hollow cheekbones. Finn often thought of herself as being a pauper, and she wasn’t far off the mark, at least as far as the citizens of Laidlaw were concerned. But to a girl like that, she lived like a princess, which was also true- at least from her perspective.
‘Hey…’ Finn brightened when she remembered how much dye her mother had left. ‘Would you like something blue of your own?’
The girl looked at her warily, but said nothing at first. After studying Finn’s face for a moment though, she looked back down at Finn’s shorts, then nodded. ‘Yeah…’ she whispered, touching them tentatively. ‘Very much.’
‘Okay then. Well, I’m really busy this week, because I have a lot of work to do… but how about you meet me back here next Saturday morning when the markets are on, okay? Just bring something pale, like the dress you’re wearing now, and I’ll help you tie-dye it, just like these shorts.’
The girl’s eyes bulged. ‘Cross your heart?’
Finn made a big show of crossing her heart and then smiled. ‘Just make sure you tell your mum where you’re going first, and ask her permission. And if she says yes I’ll be right here at eleven, waiting for you.’
‘I’ll go ask my mum permission right now!’ the little girl cried and bolted away, making Finn laugh as she too stood up and dusted herself off, thinking she’d better do the same thing! And then, ask her mum to teach her how to tie-dye while she was at it, so she wouldn’t end up breaking her promise!
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Finn got to Laidlaw early on Monday morning, and immediately made her way up to the castle, explaining her business to the Tutelas guarding the entrance before they parted to allow her to enter. It smelled sterile in there, like bleach, and was very quiet, which made every step she took on the sandstone floor echo through the halls. She started to worry that perhaps she was too early, but she heard voices echoing in the corridor as she approached and hesitated by the open door, afraid that she was interrupting something.
‘...Just saying that you have to be even more careful than you think!’ she heard a feminine voice whisper. ‘It may look like nothing to you but it’s exhausting, and the headaches are unbearable.’
‘As unbearable as thousands of people starving is?’ a male voice demanded. ‘As unbearable as being raped in the bush on the Outside must be?’
Finn reared back. It was one thing to hear the king and Miriam arguing, but quite another to overhear them having such an intense argument. She wanted to back out but couldn’t, because she knew they’d hear her if she did!
‘As a matter of fact, yes it is! It’s like having your starving mind raped by needles!’ Miriam hissed.
‘What would you know of such suffering?’ the king scoffed. ‘I’ve shielded all of you from knowing anything of the like!’
‘I’ve shielded you right back!’ Miriam spat, sounding like Cara for the first time in since… ever! ‘But even if our suffering is different, how dare you put the fate of those on the other side of the wall on the Enigmas, after begging me to build you the damned thing in the first place? You knew you were drawing a line-’
‘I was certain I’d be able to invite more in sooner than I have!’ Amory hissed. ‘But they just keep coming, Mimi and you keep pleading with me to let more in! I can provide for them one day like I said I would, but I can’t do that, throw you the wedding of your dreams and keep everyone happy if you Enigmas won’t step up and-’
Finn stomped twice, squeezed her eyes shut and then rapped hard on the timber edging of the door, not wanting to hear another word. She supposed it was only natural that the king wanted the Enigmas to do more to help out around there, and that Miriam would feel the need to defend them, and that both of them would be feeling stressed out after the week they’d had... and Finn supposed that if she knew all the facts, she’d be inclined to side with one of them. But until she did, she’d rather have not known anything at all, because the multitasking gods knew that she had enough to worry about as it was!
‘Yes?’ the king snapped the greeting, but Finn breathed out quickly and smiled before she stepped into the open door.
‘Hi there!’ she did a half-curtsy half-bow thing that probably looked ridiculously awkward. ‘Just wondering if you had a minute?’
‘Oh! Hi Finn- of course.’ Miriam stood up from her chair by the desk quickly, but Finn’s eyes didn’t miss the way she steadied herself on the corner of it, like she was too weak to stand unassisted. Then, when Finn saw the intricate way her golden hair had been piled up into coils that morning and the pretty lace dress she was wearing, she couldn’t help but wonder if Lady Miriam was frittering away her power on the wrong things the way Marie Antoinette once had- on fashion- because if she was, then that would definitely explain some of her fiancé’s frustration. ‘I’ve been hoping I’d bump into you!’
‘Really?’ Finn asked hopefully. Was it possible that Miriam had automatically thought of her as Madeline’s replacement? Because-
‘Yes. Your dress last Saturday was so beautiful…’ Miriam rested her hand on her heart and Finn pressed her lips together in a tight smile to reign in a grimace that the loveliness of Miriam’s smile softened anyway. Like Cara, Miriam had delicate features that were disproportionate to how large her navy-blue eyes were. But she must have taken after one parent more than Cara had, for she was taller and willowy too, and her chin didn’t recede like Cara’s, which made her much lovelier to look at. Finn was disappointed that Miriam wanted to talk to her about the dress rather than the job, but she supposed that if she looked like Miriam, then she’d probably be a bit obsessed with superficial things like that too. ‘Did your mother really make it?’
Finn nodded, but was distracted by the sight of an old typewriter on the king’s desk- one that appeared to be working, for it had half a page of type sticking out of the top!
‘Yes, she…’ she cleared her throat and looked at the king. ‘I’m sorry- is that real?’
‘What… this?’ the king patted the top of the typewriter and Finn nodded, eyeing it lustily. ‘Yep! One of the engineers restored it for me. It’s old and one of the keys sticks but-’ he paused. ‘Hold on… you actually know what this does?’
‘Yes. Mum had one just like it, which I used to use to write on all the time.’ She sighed. ‘It died a few months before the Strike, and she managed to get as a second-hand Asus, but it wasn’t the same…’
The king’s eyebrows climbed higher. ‘You’re telling me you preferred writing on these dinosaurs over an actual keyboard?’
‘Absolutely…’ Finn sighed happily, and shrugged. ‘Writing just isn’t as satisfying without that clack, you know?’
‘That is adorable,’ Miriam cooed. ‘But you were saying…? About the dress…?’
‘Oh!’ Finn blushed again. ‘Sorry: yes. My mum reconstructed it out of an old wedding dress and some food colouring.’
‘How industrious of her!’ the king said, and as he settled himself into his chair, Finn saw him settling his features into a different configuration than what they had been in before as he reverted to his ‘peopling’ ways. ‘Good to know there are still people out there who can still see beauty in ruins,’ he tapped on the typewriter, ‘because heaven knows, we’ve got plenty of those lying around waiting to be polished up, hmm?’
Finn chuckled. ‘That’s my mum in a nutshell- a polisher of ruins. In fact, she’s inspired me so much, that I’ve decided to spend some time next weekend teaching some of the refugee kids down on the beach to tie-dye some of their own old clothes too.’
It was as though Finn had swung a hammer on one of those old carnival strength-testing games, because just like that, the polite smiles on both the king and Miriam’s faces shot higher, ringing in their eyes like bells.
‘That’s so wonderful!’ Miriam breathed.
‘I agree!’ the king grinned at her as he leaned back in his seat. ‘Is that why you’re here, Miss Monroe? To request some supplies? Because though I’d love to help you out, I don’t know-’
‘I’m sure I can dig up something, sweetheart…’ Miriam said quickly, her expression growing thoughtful. ‘I don’t know how much spare dye we have, but there are a few pastel colours I salvaged that we don’t use for uniforms, so maybe-’
‘That would be lovely, but actually, I’m just here to buy a new uniform- in size four?’ Finn pulled her leather coin purse out of her bag, trying not to show how panicked she felt over how light it was now, compared to how heavy it had been the Friday before the last. She loved writing to the guys, but it was adding up, so once she’d paid for her uniform, she’d have just one quarter chip left to get her through the week. ‘And uh, ask for an application form, for the librarian job, now that Madeline has evolved out of it?’
‘Oh!’ Miriam said again, as the king immediately opened a desk drawer. ‘Of course! Again, we’re running low on supplies, and we’ve been quite busy with Miss Knowles all weekend, but if you leave it with me, I’ll have a messenger drop it to you before Monday.’
‘Sure,’ Finn smiled and then reached over to take the paperwork that Amory extended to her then, before taking seven chips out of her purse and pooling them into Miriam’s palm. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re getting in quick!’ the king appraised her. ‘You’re not miserable in your current position, are you Miss Monroe?’ A small line appeared between his golden brows. ‘Or nervous, after-’
‘No! I’m very grateful to have any job at all,’ Finn assured him quickly, not wanting him to mistake her love of books, for a dislike of hard work, or a lack of faith in his Tutelary. They had an alarm bell hanging by their front door which people were supposed to sound when they saw Outlaws, but no one in the park had had to ring it to start a chain of alarm in over four months by then, which spoke volumes about how much safer they were than those on the Outside. ‘In fact, as of tomorrow afternoon, the volunteers and I will have officially cleaned all the way up to the crossing.’ She smiled in response to his pleased grin. ‘But I’m a bookworm, so if there’s a chance I can make a living in a library, I’m going to take it.’
‘Understandable,’ Miriam said, smoothing the skirts of her own dress, which was too pretty not to have been manifested.
So she can manifest a pretty dress, a coiffed up-style and the wedding décor I’ve heard she’s already started on… but not a safer Refugee camp? Finn wondered, but she immediately pushed the disloyal thought aside, reminding herself than Miriam had already done more than all of them!
‘I’m pleased to see you going after life with such gusto all of a sudden,’ Amory nodded in approval. ‘Is there anything else I can do?’
Yes! Finn thought. Make up, and don’t ever fight like that again! But she couldn’t say that out loud of course- for those were the kinds of thoughts that belonged in a journal! ‘No,’ she said, going into a hasty retreat. ‘Just uh, tell Lady Madeline I said congratulations, okay? And wish her well for me. I hope one day, I turn out to be as useful to the kingdom as she will be!’
‘So do I… Miss Monroe…’ the king said softly, as he glanced out his window in the direction of the Outside. ‘So do I…’ And then Finn fled, knowing she didn’t want to see the look Miriam shot him then, for fear that it would eradicate her faith in the both of them, who both suddenly seemed that little bit less perfect and in control than they had before she’d intruded on their privacy!
*
Finn spent the rest of the day doing her best to keep her thoughts from going to dark and shadowy places, but when she returned home that afternoon and discovered that she hadn’t received a message from Reeve or Bailey, her spirits sank.
‘Sorry kid,’ Simon said to her as he began pulling up anchor. ‘I had to head out a bit earlier this morning, so I might’ve missed them.’
‘That’s fine,’ Finn said, and then went back to her room, feeling purposeless. There was a letter from Reeve on Tuesday morning, but he’d mentioned in it that one of his key words for finding a good girlfriend was ‘fisherwoman,’ so he wanted someone who could bait their own hook, and that Bailey had seemed a bit down in the dumps at school on Monday, which made Finn sweat. Was Bailey angry that she hadn’t returned his sentiment, and was now punishing her by playing hard to get? There was no way of knowing for sure, but there was no letter from him that afternoon either, which turned her hot sweat into a cold one. Panicking, she quickly scratched out two letters for both of her Shard boys, and then raced them back to Simon.
Bailey,
Hi! Hey is everything okay? I’ve been looking forward to hearing from you all weekend, but Simon hasn’t had anything for me for two days now, which kind of has me worried. Did I do or say something to upset you?
Missing You
-Finn.
Dear Reeve,
Hey, I don’t know if this is crossing like a cousin-line or something… but we’re friends right? Which means I can ask you if my boyfriend is mad at me, yeah? Or if there’s anything going on with him that I ought to know about? I understand if you can’t, and maybe I’m just being paranoid… but he hasn’t written to me for days, which is freaking me out.
-Finn.
P.S: I told the girls at school that you’re into girls that can bait their own hooks but none can. I’d like to commiserate with you, but I can’t either, so looks like you’ll be fishing alone!
Finn spent all of Wednesday feeling like her innards were coiled up in a tight little ball of anxiety, and though she hoped desperately that she’d get home and find answers to all of her questions waiting for her in the mail, she ended up feeling even more disappointed in the answers that she did get. Yes, there were two letters this time, one from each boy, but the one from Bailey bummed her out, and the one from Reeve ticked her off.
Finn,
I’m fine. Just having a shitty week. Will write more when I’m up to it, cool?
-Bailey.
Finn,
Um, so… this is awkward. Rest assured, Bailey’s as hung up on you as ever, but he is a little put out- so put out that he doesn’t even want to talk to ME about it, which is new. Can I ask though… have you applied for a job or something? Hadley says that’s why he’s upset, because he thinks he’ll never see you now. I know that’s overdramatic, but he gets broody sometimes you know? But he always snaps out of it so don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be back to his old self soon enough.
Exes and Ohhs -Reeve.
P.S: Like I said, I hate it when people make me bait their lines because it cuts into my fishing time, but I’ll make an exception for you.
Dear Bailey.
Seriously?
-Finn.
Dear Reeve,
Thank you for trying to help but honestly, I’m kind of hurt now. Yes, I told him about the job I’m excited to apply for and yes, getting it would mean that I’d have to work ONE day a weekend (not both!), but you know what? I don’t own a few hundred head of cattle and WE don’t own an island! Which means I don’t have the luxury of turning down clean work in a safe environment so I can design my life around my remote boyfriend’s schedule!
God- did he not hear a word I said when I told him how much I loved books? Or how inferior I feel to the other Potential girls, because I have to pick up trash for a living? I get that he’s disappointed at the idea of not seeing me as much, but two girls were raped and murdered just off the road that I work on every day on Thursday, so if I can deal with that, he can deal with this!
Sorry, I know I sound unhinged right now and I probably shouldn’t send this, but I’m as bad at holding in my feelings as you are. Please don’t tell him any of what I’ve said, because I feel guilty for involving you as much as I have already, but feel free to pass the message along that I’m officially out of money now, which means this is the last time either of you are going to hear from me for a little while anyway. And it’s going to go on being this way, until I GET A BETTER JOB!
