School Games Girlfriend Posse

Sitting in a row, awaiting Homer: Kaila, Patricia, Arrolon, Naomi. Upon the bench outside the Tower Gate Bridge. Below them the creek ran into a small dammed pond full of squealing children. Four adult monitors in shorts and hats stood knee deep.

Naomi: “I’ve lost my two best teachers… I’m recruiting.”

Patricia: “Who are the prospects?” Arrolon smiled knowingly.

“You—all three.”

Arrolon: “Of course… ”

Kaila: “I had teaching in mind when I joined Mel’s class but I became the replacement medic… ”

Naomi: “Mel started out with first aid training... One of these days older kids will be sneaking away from supervision, we want them prepared for when they wander into trouble—it’s inevitable.”

Kaila nodded along: “Yeah… ”

Patricia: “What about me?”

“I’m looking at a music instructor, don’t you think?”

“Already do that in the sing-alongs… ”

“We’re ready for something more structured. Kids are showing talent—Robin, Jethro and Rhonda have a little chorus. They need mentoring.”

A multi-instrumentalist, Patricia smiled at the idea: “Okay.”

“Anyway, the Hospice never has enough help. People get involved, some drift away, won’t see them until their child is in a crisis.”

Arrolon: “You should have spoken before.”

“Ahh… It’s a recurring problem suddenly aggravated. Gardul and Achen we’re my anchors.”

“We’re glad to help.”

Kaila: “They were the best scrimmage players in the colony… especially Gardul… ”

Arrolon: “The best athletes in general—Christina and Chilperic were the nearest rivals… ”

“I wonder what Lucy will say… ”

“She wants to believe in us.”

Patricia: “Life got a bit disillusioning.”

“I have faith in her sense of fair play.”

Naomi: “You’ll learn soon enough—here comes Homer.”

The Administrator emerged around an outside bend and entered the shade overhanging the gentle canyon, he waved at his friends and doubled his pace.

They all rose from their seat. Greetings made…

Arrolon: “How’s Peter doing?”

“Hiking to the Vale with a new girlfriend—would you believe? She didn’t want to ride a tractor and Peter thinks their trail is faster anyhow—straight across the marsh.”

Arrolon smiled understandingly.

Kaila: “We should go.”

Patricia snagged her husband’s elbow, Homer and Kaila walked behind. Naomi turned around and went across the bridge, back to her domain.

The further reach of the road was less traveled. Like Peter, most Homesteaders used alternate routes, the main body of Firstown residences occupied the span from Newton to the Hospice, Lucy’s walled compound was the last home along the way.

A thin carpet of grass covered the gravel. Homer noted with interest tire tracks of a small vehicle weaving through the heavy imprint from the tractor.

Pyteman and Chloe’s car stood in front of Lucy’s gate. The colonist was speaking with the off-worlders. Her friend Sorgha was there too.

Pyteman’s fingers massaged his collar, worked his data tab taking a complicated catalog order.

Chloe smiled at the approaching group: “Hello! We’re not acquainted yet—Pyteman does all the talking!” She strolled down the hill and intercepted them: “He’s busy, I’m Chloe—but you know… ”

Patricia smiled: “What do you think of our world so far?”

“Very picturesque… and the air is sweet. I feel enchanted somehow.”

“There’s an ocean two hundred miles away but sea air comes up the river this time of year. Turns around in fall and winter, gets all dry and crackly then until the storms come in.”

“I’ve never thought about weather—I lived in space before this.”

“It’s always changing—like good music—improvised… ”

Chloe nodded: “I like music. I’m a good dancer.”

“You should come to our parties then.”

That brought a smile: “Parties… The social whirl—what kind of fun do you guys have?”

“Quiet fun mostly. So many folks have kids and keep early hours.”

“There’s no cabaret? Where do adults go?”

Patricia sighed: “Home, to bed, early… ”

Kaila: “We used to be quite rowdy. There was a lot of drinking in the early days… ”

Patricia giggled: “Still is.”

“Not so many public events, though.”

“If you like good wine, visit with me and Arrolon—we’ll keep you sauced.”

“Thank you. Where do I find you?”

“We’re in two whole cabins at the Hospice right now. Arrolon and Me and Jerry got one, Precious Rose—my oldest—has her own roof—only one room under it. But later this year we open our new villa on top of the ridge. We’re gonna have a real party for that one—I tell you!”

“Pyteman and I will put it on our calendar.”

“Come for the weekend.”

The business in front of the gate finished, Pyteman turned to join Chloe, Lucy and Sorgha followed.

The redhead looked over the group: “What brings you guys?”

Homer: “The colony’s future—we want to organize a meeting.”

“It’s about time… ”

Arrolon: “We want it as unpoliticized as possible. Homer stays in office until we have a constitution—then we can hold elections.”

“Okay.” She looked at the off-worlders: “What about them?”

Arrolon: “We have nothing to conceal, Glatz Enterprises is welcome to have observers present.”

Pyteman: “But it’s not really our interest anyhow. We should go, I still want to look up Jolrae Dorn… ”

Homer: “He’s got that turret-house—did you see it?—four stories… ”

“We found it yesterday, nobody was home.”

“Probably out hiking. He’s alone in that big place. I think he likes to get out and watch people.”

“We’ll just go right now and see if he’s in.” Pyteman took Chloe’s elbow, they marched to the car and drove away.

Lucy: “So, what have you got on mind?”

Arrolon: “The only continuous thread linking the entire colony has been the Games. We think organizing this year’s round will start a trend of working cooperatively. Get your team together and into training.”

“That’s a laugh—the team’s eviscerated. All my best athletes—Chilperic’s no good any more—drunk for weeks... Chris and Grube gone, Achen and Gardul… ” she sighed. “I really liked him, such a nice guy—Achen must be devastated.”

Kaila: “He’s keeping a strong memory, wants me to help.”

“Good for him… Yeah—I’ll find the athletes I have, pull them together. Gotta recruit new talent.”

Sorgha: “I’ll help, Lucy.”

“Thanks. What sports are you good for?”

“None, actually. Can’t even run good—bad knees.”

Lucy returned his smile: “But you can blow a whistle—only thing you need to coach… ”

“Exactly.” He laughed, Lucy joined him.

Arrolon: “We’ll use the Games to have a meeting about a meeting. We need a long format assembly and break out committees that develop constitutional functions. It’s important to give time for debate and still allow people to live their routines.”

“Makes sense.”

Kaila: “We need your support—you’re not the most popular woman around, but Firstown has a lot of respect for you.”

“Thanks—nice to hear. Lotta folks seem to avoid my company.”

Sorgha: “They don’t know the real Lucy—yet.”

“Are you buttering me up?”

“You should get your share… ”

“Well I’ll be—I have a fan. Bet you want me to come over and admire your garden… beds… ” She gave him a narrow eyed grin.

Sorgha was embarrassed but rolled with the punch: “You’ll be very satisfied… in my garden… ”

“Bed?” Lucy finished.

Everybody laughed but her eyes zeroed in on him.

Homer reclaimed her ear: “How do you find Pyteman and Chloe?”

She faced back: “Looks like he’s got business-sense—I could like him. Chloe looks like a fashion-doll, if you want to hear it from me.”

Kaila: “She’s got devious eyes, always taking in and never looking back.”

Homer: “Probably plays poker.”

“If she does, I bet she cheats.”

They laughed more.

Homer, to Lucy: “Another thing—you may be the only colonist that hasn’t heard about Synoveh… ”

“What?”

Homer explained…

Lucy: “ …Gives urgency to a meeting idea. What they did makes sense—I might do the same if I lived out there… But it’s the whole business of having no laws or system of justice. This is a tiny outpost, too easy for violence to destroy everything. We face chaos… ”

Sorgha: “Don’t believe it, Lucy—we’re strong people. Look how we got over the volcano… ”

“Yeah—that was different. We must organize before the next disaster.”

Arrolon: “I won’t be easy but we’re making a start… ”

A Homestead posse scoured the brush uphill from Yersey’s kitchen. They easily found the alcoholic’s path, but it vanished on the open black rocks near the summit. Crumbling basaltic battlements surrounded the spot, a thousand mazes branched out between every pinnacle.

The afternoon looked to be getting late:

Chowder: “We’ll never find them… ”

Luenda: “Most of that is dead-end. If we post a watch right here we’ll find ‘em.”

“And they’re in the one spot they can get away from—I bet. Maybe already headed down to the Vale.”

Yersey: “At least we know how they’re raiding my kitchen and if they know we watch this trail they’ll quit using it.”

Luenda: “We’ll stay with you—Chowder and Me. Show them you aren’t alone.”

           “Thanks.”

Like most of his lovers, Alicia was taller than Peter, when Edzelian rode upon his shoulders the boy’s head leveled off with hers. All three had similar brownish/blondish hair, loose topped, it seldom lay down.

She had freckles and big teeth, yellow/brown eyes and a laborer’s body with iron muscles, hardly any bosom and a flat bottom over hefty legs. She wore loose blue coveralls but had removed the upper part and rolled it down to her waist for the hike. Skin was bronze and smooth, shiny with sweat, she had a tattoo of the Almanor down her spine.

They set out from the job camp, a large dome of bundled reeds modeled on the physician’s marsh home of years ago. The Actionists had used it and it accessed a trail to the east side of the wetlands. From there they took the hollow beneath Firstown Ridge and up onto the basaltic ridge, cutting a corner of Arrolon and Patricia’s vineyard.

They went cross-country, Alicia broke trail at Peter’s guiding and he followed with the child.

A nearly vertical gully, they laddered down projecting roots, the bottom left them in a ravine near the little mesa.

Dinnertime, tonight’s chefs: Jody—wild bird stew and pies; Karma—roasted sweetroot and dry-fried vegetable medley; Volmer—salad and sauces; Hildy made up the table and served.

The Village settled around, a family of twelve this time, but others—refugees—took their meals off to the benches or out in the gardens.

The farm and the brothel workers, in general, held colonists in suspicion, preferred to isolate themselves. Like combat veterans and violent crime victims they had lived unique experiences mere citizens could never share. For the most part, the laborers didn’t even have the spirit to try.

Homesteaders attempted to bridge the gap, a handful of farm refugees were already present in the community and largely integrated. The newcomers resisted and progress was slow, nobody wanted to press too hard.

Then Jason attacked Synoveh and people looked at the freed slaves with wary eyes.

A small group had been guards, lived uncertain of their status. But the colonists didn’t have a roster, they couldn’t tell slaves from guards.

Jepson was a eunuch, Roxie’s old cribmate. Beating the odds, he was a few years older than Mabutu, nearly adult. If not for the spaceport battle he would have soon faced the peculiar graduation from brothel to farm worker—a rare event indeed.

He sat in the garden, on the stone bench near the trail. A group of refugees gathered with him, they thought he was wise or had charisma, he couldn’t avoid the company. He craved solitude, wasn’t mean enough to tell people to go away.

Wendel and Bethica shared the bench, farm worker and brothel babe, united in freedom. Uneducated, chronically malnourished, they had weak minds.

Wendel “ …got those eyes again… Karma now. Told me ‘don’t throw that wood in the fire it’s good for building’—put hands on her waist and gave me those eyes like I never been right on anything. What she know? They make up new rules every day, that’s what it is.”

Bethica: “I don’t know what I’m to do, they think I should. Never tell me… ”

“Treat us like we don’t count… ”

Jepson: “They’re afraid of us.”

“That’s dumb… ”

“Afraid of disease.”

“We ain’t disease!”

“It’s what they see. We are everything they fear—and worse, when you think of Jason… ”

“Well Jason’s dead now and they still don’t like us.”

“I know—but how can we explain? These people lived like Gods all their lives and they find us—we make them feel bad. Like it’s all their fault we came here.”

“Now they want us to leave?”

Jepson thought about that for a moment “I don’t think so—not all of them. They don’t know what to do.”

“Should figure it out and stop making eyes at me.”

“They don’t mean for that, it just comes out that way.”

“Huh… ”

Chattagong, Leon, Derek and Roxie came up the trail from the ravines.

Leon: “Jepson! Seen Bobol?”

“No,” he shook his head for a second opinion.

“Figures… Went hiding, I bet.”

“Why’s he wanna hide?”

“Roxie scared the shit out of him.”

Jepson had a high pitched giggle, very girlish. “I know what that’s like.” Roxie giggled too, synchronized with the eunuch: two twittering little birds.