A Thread of Time: Firesetter, Book 1 (4 page)

“Murmf bermuf yakwoof,” or something like
it, a woman cried, followed by the sounds of kissing, hugging and slapping on
the back.

“A nice reunion.”  Wen sighed and  pulled
my arm.  “Look Lancelot, Borf is with his wives.”

“Uh huh,” I murmured, snatching the dark
caramels and the mixed nuts and chews off the shelf, before glancing up to see
our roommate hugging two Andorian women at the register. “He's married to two?”

“Yep. And, he's got a husband, too,” Wen
informed me, as my heart ceased to beat and the world briefly spun and turned
black.  This was not because of the revelation about Borf's family situation,
but rather the fact that I recognized Moosy tucked in the middle of her family's
arms.

“He's her dad, right?”

“Nope. He's one of her husbands. Didn't
you know that?”

Apparently not. I dropped both boxes of
chocolates on the floor, before passing out right on top of them.

Needless to say, my romantic lunch date
with Moosy was canceled. While Borf, or her other husband, Murf, who had been
stocking the refrigerated case with sodas in the back of the Kwikie-Mart,
didn't object to me taking her out, they all wanted to go. And, they all wanted
to discuss my marriage proposal, for as I found out, marrying Moosy would mean
I would also inherit all of them.

“Thanks for the steak,” Wen declared
later, wiping the last residue off his chin.

“No worries,” I replied with a heavy sigh.
“At least, I still have you.”

Chapter 5

Jan

After those vehicles came and the shots
sounded, I had no choice but to bring Dov home.  I couldn’t leave him on the
street, huddling in doorways, or hiding in trash bins until they found him. 
Inevitably, they would.  Our village was tiny and those trucks were filled with
men. 

My mother wouldn’t take him in. 

“A street orphan, Jan?” she cried.  “You
know what I think of this.  If we bring one in and feed him, tomorrow there
will be ten begging at our door.  Go on, boy.  Get you off my porch before anyone
sees you here.  Come back when you are alone, Jan.”  Mother slammed the door.

I looked at Dov, expecting his tiny face
to be flooded with tears.  Instead, he just shrugged, and smiled a little, his
bright blue eyes impassive.  Taking him next door to my Aunt Ailana’s flat, I
hoped there might be more compassion in my auntie’s heart.

“No,” Ailana snapped, refusing to open the
screen.  “Amyr is poorly today.  I shan’t let him be exposed to the street
urchin’s germs.”  Then, she too slammed the door in our faces, in the same
manner as my mother.  However, a moment later, it was cracked open just enough
to pass a bowl of soup in Dov’s direction.  “Here.  It’s from Amyr.  He wishes
to share, although why, I cannot fathom.  Let the boy drink it and be gone before
your uncle, Pellen arrives home from his day at work.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Dov said politely and
eagerly even though Auntie had once again slammed the door.

I watched Dov drink the soup, swallowing
it quickly in great gulps as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.  It was kind of Amyr
to share, but then again, my cousin always thought of every other before
himself.  When he was feeling poorly, as he did so often, he would make Auntie
place his bowl outside to feed the people on the street.

“That was delicious.”  Dov sighed and with
the back of his hand, he swiped at a trickle running down his chin. 

It wasn’t delicious, far from it actually,
but to the starving child it could have been a meal fit for a king.

“I’ll thank my cousin for you,” I said,
now taking the bowl back into Auntie’s house.

Dov watched me, his eyes anxious and
pleading, as if begging to follow me inside.

I was sorry I couldn’t bring him in with
me, for it would have been nice for him and Amyr to meet.  Amyr would like him,
I was certain.  They might even become good friends.  My cousin needed someone
to play his games and keep him company, as no children came to visit except for
me.

I didn’t have any friends either, but that
was purely by my choice.  Mostly, I preferred the solitude of my boat, having
little patience for anyone else in this tiny village.  Amyr, on the other hand,
professed interest in all who passed by his window.

“That's because you haven't met anybody
bad,” I told him.  “Sitting here in your room, you meet only those who wish to
see you, like doctors and nurses.  Those sort of people are always nice.

“I have met the worst and more.”  He
smiled mischievously and raised an eyebrow as if I might challenge his words.

“Amyr has lived quite a life in his
imagination,” Auntie Ailana replied.

I didn’t think that was so terrible.  In a
way, it made up for the poor life he was living here in this flat.

Amyr was as close to me as a brother since
we were cousins and had been raised side by side.  In fact, in some ways, I
cared more for him than my own brother, Taul.  Despite being sickly and
strange, there was also something about Amyr that made him sort of wonderful,
although I couldn’t say exactly what it was.  Maybe, it was as simple as his
imagination, something I lacked, or, maybe it was the joyful smile with which
he greeted each day as if he was simply happy to be alive.

My mother said Amyr spoke as if he had the
knowledge of many lifetimes in his soul, while my empty head indicated a soul
that was completely new and blank.  Daily, I attended school, filling my brain
with language, science and math, while Amyr only ever left his house to visit
the doctors. He wasn't strong enough to walk far, or even sit to hear a
lesson.  He didn't read either, for his odd eyes couldn't focus well enough
upon a page.  Yet, Amyr had knowledge of everything and would challenge me
continuously with his thoughts, and I, four years older, would lose every
debate.

Sometimes, I enjoyed his challenges.  When
he was feeling well, his humor was worth the mental exercise.  Other times, my
cousin's presence grew quite wearing.  Then, I would tell him goodbye and
return to the welcome solace of my boat, the sea, and the fish, who would
accept me and my humble thoughts without an interrogation. 

“I wish to sail on your boat someday,” my
cousin once said wistfully at my departure, filling me with remorse that I was
leaving him again.  “I would help you catch fish to sell.  I would like to be
upon the sea.”

“Perhaps, you will,” I replied.  “When you
are strong and healthy.” 

He smiled and laughed a little, for he had
never been either of those things.

“I might as well wish to grow wings and
fly high above, upon the currents of air.”

“Tsk tsk,” my auntie would cluck, shaking
her head and rolling her eyes.  “What sort of son do I have that cannot walk,
but dreams of flying like a bird?”

My mother fretted a little about my
reticence to socialize with anyone other than Amyr.  She was afraid I would
never find a man to marry, and thus, would depend on her throughout my life.  I
saw no issue with this.  I was content in our village and our tiny home, fully
satisfied with only her presence for my company. 

In fact, when my brother, Taul returned
from wherever he had gone, I felt his arrival as an unwelcome disruption to our
routine.  Our tiny house seemed only tinier with him spread upon the couch.  My
mother’s doting upon my brother, especially as his appearances became fewer and
further between, bothered me like a tiny fish bone stuck in my throat.

During those days, I would spend more time
out on my boat on the pretense we needed more fish to quench my brother’s
appetite.  If the weather did not cooperate, I would visit Amyr for long hours,
even sleeping upon the floor next to his sofa or chair.  I was always relieved when
my brother set out again to wherever he chose to go and the pattern of my home
returned to normal.

“The Korelesk army has come to the western
border of the mountains,” Taul said, only weeks before the day that I met Dov. 
“It won’t be long until they are here at our doorstep.  I’ve heard terrible
things about the army and what they do to people like us.”

“Don’t speak such nonsense.  Those are
only rumors meant to cause us fear.”  My mother served Taul a portion of fish
from the pot of soup on top the stove. I liked this recipe very much.  It was
one from the motherland, handed down from her grandmother before.  “Everything
is fine, Jan.  Eat your fish and then take a portion next door to your cousin. 
Ailana says he fares poorly and this soup will give him strength.”

“I want to hear about the Duke of
Korelesk,” I protested, reluctantly rising from my seat to prepare a bowl for
Amyr. 

“I have nothing more to say,” Taul
replied, sharing a knowing look with Mother.  Obviously, there was more, but
they didn’t want me to hear.

Amyr had been sleeping when I knocked upon
his door, so I returned to my own table a few moments later, having left the
soup with Aunt Ailana to eat herself.  Taul was speaking in hushed tones, while
my mother's face had gone even paler than before.

“The other dukes have small armies, if
they have an army at all.  None can compete with Korelesk’s strength if he
tries to take the crown.”

“We may have to return to the motherland,”
my mother murmured fretfully.  “We won’t be safe anywhere else.”

“I'd rather go to outer space,” Taul
declared.  “I will join a merchant ship, and fly far away to a distant star. 
Then, I will send for you.”

“Not I.  I have no desire to go.  Better
you should send the aliens to stop Korelesk before he kills us all.”

“What about you, Jan?”  My brother turned
to me.

In the meantime, my mother rose, her eyes
panning across my face.  Would I fly away to another world with Taul, or would
I return to the motherland, a distant continent across the sea?

“I don't want to go to outer space
either,” I declared, imagining a world of endless nights.  It would be cold and
frightening out there, flying through the darkness to distant stars.  Perhaps,
it was even filled with strange alien beings who might enslave us and treat us worse
than the Duke of Korelesk.  “I would rather go to the motherland.  I’ve heard
it is green and fruitful, and the waters are always filled with fish.”

“Where did you hear that?” Mother asked,
now setting Taul’s dessert before him.  It was a handful of berries diligently
gathered from the forest.

“Amyr said so.”

Watching Taul eat his berries, I wished I
could have a few.  There weren’t enough though, as it was still too early in
the spring.  Only Taul got such a prize because his visits were so few, but
next time, when he was far across the stars, all the berries would be for me.

“Amyr.”  Taul sniffed and shook his head a
little, rolling his eyes, while sharing a knowing glance with Mother.  “What
else does our fanciful cousin say of this land he has never been to, nor
couldn’t see if he had?”

“Nothing,” I murmured.  “Nothing else at
all.”

In truth, Amyr had told me much of our
peoples’ former home, describing it as if he had lived there long ago.

“You shall like it there, Jan,” he had
told me.  “There you shall find a man to love you, a man like you.”

I believed him, for Amyr only spoke the
truth.

Taul left the next day, and as usual when
he departed, my mother wept for an entire week. 

“Where do you think he will go?” I asked
Amyr, arriving at his side with a fresh bowl of fish soup.  “Will he come back
or will he die in outer space?”

Amyr frowned and supped the broth.  I
could tell he was feeling better this day, as he was sitting upright, and there
was a slight pinkness to his normally wan cheeks.  Like me, his skin was pale,
but unlike me, his hair was as black as night, making an interesting contrast
that seemed to give pause to all who met him.  Today, his hair glowed as if the
sun was shining singularly upon him, and his eyes were filled with colors,
although I couldn’t say which ones. 

“He won’t die in outer space,” my cousin
replied thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at his lips.  “Do not fear for it
shan't be the last time you see your brother.  He is doing what he is called to
do.”

I nodded.  I liked when Amyr spoke as if
the future was written and displayed before his eyes.  He always smiled when he
did this, which made me think the future wouldn’t be so bad.

“What am I called to do?”

“Play chess with me,” Amyr declared,
reaching for the ancient marble set stored on a tray beneath his chair.  Uncle
had carried it home one day, saying it was brought to him by a man who claimed
to have received it from the Duke of Turko. 

“He said it once belonged to the Great
Emperor,” Uncle had cried excitedly.  “See here the Imperial Signet stamped
upon the bottom of each piece.”

“Can you see it, Amyr?” I had asked,
holding the white queen close to his strange eyes. 

“I see it.”  Amyr smiled, but I didn’t
believe him because his eyes were closed.

“Aw,” I moaned then as he began to set up
the board, for I was none too pleased to be invited to play this game. 
Although given the choice of returning to my weeping mother or remaining here,
my options were both poor.  “Alright, but where is the black king and white
queen?  We are missing two very important pieces, cousin.”

“I gave them to Taul before he left.  We
can use salt and pepper shakers instead.” 

“Amyr,” my aunt interrupted, fortunately
for me.  “Jan isn't here to entertain you.  She has fish to catch.  Work to
do.  Unlike you, Jan has no free time.” 

Auntie was working a fine cloth, something
shiny and satiny that belonged to a rich lady.  It rustled between her fingers
and reflected light across the room.  I imagined a dress made of this material,
briefly envisioning how it might appear on me, before brushing that thought
aside.  That was something I would never wear.

“And, I have nothing but free time,” Amyr
agreed.  “Endless hours to sit and think.  But, it is raining and Jan doesn't
like fishing in the rain.  Furthermore, the wind will come up to ruin her sail
and rock her boat.  Go get the shakers, Jan.  I’m setting the board so you will
be white.”

“It's not raining,” I said, nodding toward
the window where long, dirty streaks made the blue sky look as if it was dark
and gray.  “But, Auntie is right.  I am busy.”