Fire Country

The right time? But when is that? And what do we do when we get there? I wa

~~~

No matter how many problems I got, there’s always Veeva. Her crazy life keeps me entertained and busy. That’s where I am now—in her tent. The winds have been particularly unkind to their tent—which is sagging in the middle, bent and broken, ready to collapse at any second—probably ’cause Grunt did such a poor job constructing it in the first place. Veeva always tells me he’s good with his hands, but I don’t think she’s talking about tent-building.

“Take him, Woman,” Grunt grunts, handing a squirming nine-full-moon-old Polk to Veeva.

“Oh no, hot stuff, you ain’t gettin’ out of bundlin’ ’im. Not this time. And if you call me Woman again, I won’t lie with you fer a quarter full moon.” Veeva’s got one arm holding the baby, t’other on her hip, and a third hand figuratively clutching Grunt’s manparts.

I’m trying not to crack up.

“Okay, okay,” Grunt says, throwing up his tug-sausage fingers. “No need to make them threats of yers, Vee. I’m doin’ the best I can. I gotta fix this burnin’ tent before it kills us all!”

“I can bundle him,” I suggest, trying to be helpful.

Veeva warns me off with a shake of her head. She’s got something else up her sleeve. “Mmm, well if you can bundle this beautiful baby of yers and fix this here dyin’ tent, I got a special surprise fer you.” In an act that I find somewhat disgusting, and a whole lot intriguing, she sticks out her chest and shakes her enormous bosoms, which, I might add, are practically falling out of her loose top. Grunt’s eyes get bigger’n the moon and Polk grabs at her bouncing breasts like they might be a fun toy to play with. I’m relatively inexperienced in such things—other’n what Veeva’s told me—but perhaps to Grunt, Veeva’s overly ample chest is a fun toy to play with. The way his eyes’re bugging out of his head certainly seems to indicate it.

“I’ll do it, Woman!” he shouts, his big ol’ belly flopping as he raises his fist above his head. He catches himself. “Sorry, I mean, Veeva.”

“Mmm, mmm, mmm, I know you will, my stallion,” she says licking her lips and holding out the stinky Polk.

Yeah, these are the type of interactions I witness on a daily basis at Veeva’s place. Things that would never—EVER—happen in our hut, which I’m somewhat thankful for.

While Grunt gets to putting a fresh bundle on the baby, Veeva fans herself with a hand. “Useless, bugger,” she whispers to me. “I gotta threaten ’im like this to get ’im to do any burnin’ thing around ’ere. If he wasn’t so good in bed, I’d throw ’im out on his arse. The baggard.”

I laugh, both at Veeva’s insults and ’cause Grunt’s got Polk upside down by the foot and is trying to wipe his little butt with an old blanket. Veeva shakes her head. “He’s hopeless,” she says. Then, her eyes lighting up, she turns to me. You got your Call comin’ up soon, don’t you?”

I shrug. “Yeah. S’pose so.”

She claps. “Who do you got yer eye on?”

“My eye?” I haven’t really thought ’bout it, mostly ’cause I’m trying to avoid thinking ’bout the Call at all. “No one,” I say lamely.

She puts an arm ’round me. “Still hung up on Circ?”

She says his name so casually, as if he was just an old boyfriend, that it doesn’t even sting as much as usual. “I don’t know,” I lie.

“You know, he couldn’ta been yer Call anyway,” she says.

“I know,” I say. “But a girl can dream, can’t she?”

“Of course!” she says, excited now, her eyes lighting up. “Ooh, before my Call I dreamed of Bearing a million babies with Zerg. You know who I mean?”

I laugh. “Didn’t every Bearer in your Call wa

She nods. “Yeah, but none so bad as me. That searin’ shilt Mariday got ’im. Lucky bugger. And I got stuck with ’im,” she says, motioning to Grunt, who’s managed to get the bundle wrapped half ’round Polk’s leg and half ’round his arm. Grunt’s just staring at the baby, all confused-like, as if bundling a baby is the most confusing puzzle in all of fire country.

“Fix it!” Veeva orders, startling Grunt out of his daze. “Or you’ll sleep on t’other side of the tent ternight.”

At that threat, Grunt pulls at the bundle, desperately trying to untangle it from Polk’s wriggling limbs. I’m laughing so hard I hafta hold my stomach. Veeva gives an exasperated sigh and goes to him, puts her arms ’round his shoulders, massaging them slightly. Grunt is sweating like he’s been working in the blaze pits. “It’s okay, my gorgeous hunk of muscle,” she coos. “I’ll take care of it. Fix the tent and I won’t punish you.”

~~~

Tonight I watch the stars. Now that Circ’s gone, my father doesn’t seem to mind if I go out at night. I don’t even hafta sneak out. I just get up, walk out the door. Sometimes I can feel him watching me, other times he doesn’t seem to notice. But either way, he never tries to stop me.

I always go to the same place. The Hunters Lodge. The first time I went the guard was hesitant to let me in, particularly after the way we tricked our way in the last time. But after I explained why I wanted to go in and promised not to break or steal anything, the guard let me. Now I’m a regular.

“Not too many clouds tonight, Sie,” the guard says when I arrive. “Should be a perfect stargazing night.”

“Thanks, Potts,” I say, entering through the door he holds for me. I know all the guards’ names now.

I don’t take the long way anymore, the way Circ took me when he brought me here. I have no desire to walk down the dark, empty Lodge halls. Outside I feel much closer to him. So I go right up the middle, under the wooden struts and girders and pylons that keep the Lodge from getting blasted over by the strong winter winds. Into the open air space in the middle. Here I feel protected, safe, loved. I’m never alone here, not really. It’s my special place. A place I’ll never bring anyone.

I lie directly in the middle, look up at the sparkling sky. I spot Circ immediately, as I always do, brighter’n t’others. “Hi,” I say.

I know he wants to reply, but can’t. From up there, he has no voice. But something tells me he’s not just a pretty thing to look at. He still has power in him. Power to change things for me, to impact my life. He’ll always impact my life.

My discussion with Veeva pops into my head. The Call. Not that far off. Scary close now. If I could choose any of the eligible guys in the village, who would I choose? I know the answer. None of them. None of them are Circ.

But, for the sake of humoring Veeva, I try to think ’bout it seriously. ’Cause I’m going to get one of them whether I like it or not. Grunt pops into my head first and I laugh. Being Veeva’s Call-Sister would be incredible, but the thought of lying with Grunt even once makes me wa

’Cause I’m so anti-social these days, I don’t really know anyone. I barely even really know the Younglings I go to Learning with, much less anyone eighteen or older. There’re a couple of brothers who seem friendly enough, Graum and Baum. They’re Hunters, too, like Circ is—was. Pretty smoky, too. Not Circ smoky, but nice to look at. Either of them would be okay I guess. But there are many more worse options—options I don’t wa

Circ stares at me. I’m sorry, Circ, I say. I don’t wa