Page 106 of The Pacifist
“Nope, Jonah and I were catching up all night. We’re hungry.”
Both men had been hired by Grandma Erika more than twenty years ago and were now in their sixties.
Sheriff had his hands down on a ball of dough but stopped kneading it. “Now, Master Jonah, I don’t want you to think we aren’t as technologically advanced up here as in the Motherlands. We have kitchen-bots; I just think bread tastes better when I put my love into it.”
“Aha!” I grinned and teased, “I knew there had to be a secret ingredient, I just never knew it was your sweat and love. Do you mind if I grab something for Jonah and me in the fridge?”
“Help yourself, Mila.” Sheriff turned to Jonah and threw a nod to his colleague. “Me and Jimmy saw your speech. I can’t tell you how lucky we felt to be Northlanders. The way those women ruin your life and deny you basic freedom, like the joy of drinking beer is crazy. They should be fucking ashamed of themselves.”
Jimmy, a lanky man with a big heart, was quick to agree. “That’s right.”
“Why are you standing by the oven like that?” I asked him.
“Ah, this old thing has been giving us trouble. I don’t want the cookies to burn so I’m keeping an eye on them.” He pointed to Jonah. “You know what you should do if they fire you? You should stay up here and be free like us.”
Jonah gave a slight nod. “Thank you for your kind sympathy. I appreciate the support.”
“No, for real…” Sheriff frowned. “People are furious about what happened to you. There are several protests taking place right now.”
“Really?” Jonah shifted his balance.
“Yes, our local bar sent out a call for people to come and show their disagreement. It’s not right how the Council has been treating you. Jimmy and I are going tonight after dinner, right, Jimmy?”
Jimmy, who was busy taking the cookies out of the oven, gave a loud “Fuck yeah.”
Handing Jonah a glass of celery juice from the fridge, I gave Sheriff a sideways glance. “You sure your local bar isn’t just trying to capitalize on the general disappointment about the situation? It’s not really a protest if you all just sit around and complain about it over large beers, is it?”
Sheriff pummeled a bit extra upon the dough. “It’s not like we can fucking march to the Motherlands and give them our opinion face to face.”
“Don’t worry about it. The fact that you care means a lot to me.” Jonah took a sip of the juice and yawned just as the door swung open behind us.
“Why aren’t you answering when I call you?”
I turned. “Dad.”
“It’s almost noon and we have work to do.”
Jonah sat down the juice and took a step toward my dad. “Hey, Magni, it’s good to see you. Geez, I’d forgotten how tall you are when you’re out of bed.”
My dad didn’t smile back. “I want to see you in my office, now!”
“But we haven’t had breakfast yet,” I protested.
My dad had already turned and was leaving. “I said now!”
Jonah gave me an oh-shit look but followed.
When the door closed, I swallowed and looked to Sheriff and Jimmy. “He’s gonna be fine.”
They both averted their gazes and focused on their work. “My dad would never hurt Jonah.” I was trying to calm myself, but their silence made my hands tremble. “Do you think he would harm Jonah?”
Sheriff’s shoulders lifted and fell as he let out a long sigh. “Magni is unpredictable. It’s impossible to say.”
Jimmy tried with a more optimistic approach. “Maybe he just wants to warn him against fighting in your tournament. I mean, people have been laughing about it on the News since he said it last night.”
I looked up to the screen in the kitchen. “People are laughing at Jonah?”
“Well, you know, more like shaking their heads that he would think he would stand a chance in the tournament. Everybody is talking about how the competition is crazy this year. At least three men from the Doom Squad and several Huntsmen have signed up. Even skilled fighters won’t stand a chance against them. They’re giants.”
