Page 13 of Beyond The Maples
I give the dealer a sympathetic look as he nods for me to leave. I slip away from the table, troll-man still spewing hateful words behind me.
I watch one of the night workers slipping passed me through the crowd, her gold and black body paint accentuating her already beautiful curves, creating a captivating look. She heads towards the man having an adult tantrum, no doubt having been instructed to calm him down.
I feel a twinge of guilt in my gut, that this woman is going to have to bear the brunt of his foul mood because of me. My hands twitch as I fight the urge to turn around. I force myself to keep going, and hate myself a little for it.
I wander towards the edge of the room, pretending to be interested in the booths, waiting for the best opportunity to slink out towards the door. I don't need to be followed and harassed tonight.
After looking at a pitiful vegetable booth where they are trying to sell what I can only describe as soggy green paper attempting to be leaves, a commotion draws my eyes to a corner of the room.
People from all over dart toward the fighting pits as a giant of a man waltzes toward the ring. I can't see his face. He's turned away from me, but I understand what all the commotion is about as I watch him prowl towards the gated ring like a beast unleashed. His figure looms, his head lingering over a foot above most of the audience members. The stranger’s body is corded with muscle. It seems unnecessary, honestly. I can see it rippling as he moves, even from this far. Tattoos glide up his shirtless torso and over his mountainous shoulders, and I can't make out what they are, only that they make him look that much more intimidating. I suddenly have the urge to walk over to the pits and figure out what's written all over him. A tiny shiver cascades down me as I imagine the poor soul about to fight this man.
The crowd goes wild, and I shake my head, snapping myself out of my trance. I use the room's distraction as the moment to slip out. My walk home is quick and uneventful. I'm panting from my pace as I unlock our front door. I scurry inside, grateful for the relatively easy night and ready for a decent sleep. As I turn, I hear a throat clear.
Linden is sitting at the table looking like he's seen a ghost.
"We have a problem," he says solemnly. My heart lurches.
"What do you mean, is Willow OK?"
Linden takes a deep breath.
"She's asleep. She's fine. But there was an announcement at school."
We stare at each other, and I hold my breath; he looks ready to puke, which tells me whatever he's about to say is going to ruin my night.
"Willow's medication just tripled in price. And it's about to become almost impossible to find."
And just like that, the floor seems to crumble beneath my feet.
Breathe.
I think the word repeatedly as I try to calm myself down. On the outside, I'm blank, but on the inside, I feel like all my organs are twisting together to create a solid brick of panic.
Linden's frantic pacing proves he's not in much better shape. Sitting down on the couch, I shove my head between my legs as my mind spirals. I'm bouncing from one horrible thought to the next.
We are barely making it as is. Barely getting our family what we need. No amount of gambling would bring in the amount of coin we would need to make it work.
Once I can catch my breath, fighting off my inevitable panic attack, I turn to my brother and ask him to explain.
"Ok, so they made an announcement at school today. They're not seeing enough movement in the greeneries; magic is still non-existent, and the land is still almost completely barren. The few spots they've been growing what little they can won't sustain our country for much longer." He winces through every other word, like it hurts him physically to tell me.
"Ok, but what about the underground greeneries? Why are they still not utilizing those?!" I ask, massaging my temples.
Nothing makes sense. What does this have to do with Willow's medication?
"They addressed that in their speech. They claim that the underground grow bunkers are dangerous. They use too much power, the produce ends up being toxic half the time because of the amount they have to use, and every time they get a big one up and running, the wells dry up. They claim the magic recedes more.The only way forward, according to officials, is by being more meticulous, using less tech and power, and being more respectful to the land so that it will bless us." He looks at me, eyebrows raised.
"And they are cutting back medical care because it isn't produced 'naturally', tripling the price to weed out the people who can't afford it, lowering production... " I trail off and lock eyes with Linden.
"They can't do this.They can't.So now only the wealthy can afford to be sick? Everyone else dies?"
I feel frozen. My head floating above my body.
Linden stares back at me, unable to answer my questions. We sit in silence for a while, both of us running through different scenarios.
"Even if I sold myself, it wouldn't be enough," I whisper more to myself than to my brother.
"I'll pull out of school tomorrow. If I can get a couple of jobs... maybe Willow can get a job too. I'm sure she could do a lot of her schooling from home, anyway. She can get good grades in her sleep. This should never have been on just you anyway, Maple. It's time we all met in the middle." Lindens bobbing his head like he's found the answer.
