Contentment
modern fiction version, to compare.
Contentment
From the flanks of Mt. St. Helens near a ruined city came an ominous pealing of the bell that once defended that very city from the greatest peril they could imagine. A danger that was infinitely more terrifying than the frequent earthquakes, more totally annihilating than the fiercest wildfire, yet born of the powers of both earth and fire. The ringing of this bell meant one thing only; Mt. St. Helens itself had awakened from its slumber.
Mt. St. Helens was the largest mountain in the known world, taller than two thousand people. Crowned with glaciers and ever-present clouds, it stood as a lifeless sentinel. Few plants grew even at the base of the mountain and these were sparse and short-lived. Many summers, the rains would cause the base of Mt. St. Helens to take on the brilliant orange of the sun from the blossoms of the one plant that could overcome anything Mt. St. Helens could dish out, the plant known as fireweed. No trees graced its flanks; no bushes provided shelter.
Only the forsaken people, the outcasts, dared cross the sacred rope into the forsaken land beyond. Only they would sidestep the ruins of a city frozen in death to ring the bell of Mt. St. Helens to save those who had shunned them. This land had little to offer save obsidian, ash, and glacial ice. The ash had little value, but was sometimes used as an abrasive. The ice was hard to transport, but was the only mode of refrigeration. That left the obsidian and occasional volcanic gems, the only things that would be a guaranteed trade. This was why Sakiko and her fellow outcasts were at the base of Mt. St. Helens. Sakiko was about as tall as the average person, her golden skin and long tresses were considered beautiful by her kind. But Sakiko’s family had the paler high-county hair color, nearly brown, that contrasted sharply with the jet black of others. She was a self-exile of sorts, descended from survivors of this ruined city who had heeded the warnings of the outcasts and fled. She was unwelcome in the other cities for many reasons, from listening to outcasts, to her hair color, for not trying to convince others to leave, and even the belief that her ancestral home was cursed. However, the outcasts never rejected anyone they thought would follow their laws and codes of conduct. That code of conduct is why they warned the people below, almost a penance for past wrongs against their community.
Sakiko finished pealing the bell, hoping to avoid a repeat of the last eruption’s slaughter of unsuspecting villagers. She nimbly climbed down from the pile of rocks that propped up one end of the beam that supported the bell. Many years ago, the outcasts has repaired the beam and replaced the post used to sound it. The bell was large and cast of copper, giving it a pale green tint. It listed to one side and the surface was gouged by flying rocks and ash ejected by the eruption. Before the eruption, its sound was perfectly tuned, a sharp and resonating call, similar to all the rest. The volcanic heat had warped the bell; however, and now it rand with deep, dissonant tones, like the last gasp of a funeral chant.
No one lived in these hills anymore, but the valley below was crowded with over 50 villages, not a single member of which could sense the tremors rising within Mt. St. Helens as the Sakiko’s equipment could. Although it was already the well past midnight, bell ringers scrambled up to their bells and echoed the alarm, spreading it hundreds of miles in less than ten minutes.
A young bell ringer of the Lapis family ran up the steps to his bell in a panic. He had never had to spread such a terrifying alarm. He tripped on a loose stone, his hands and forehead striking the wooden steps. He rose again, calmed himself, and climbed more carefully to the top. He stared at the bell for a second, running his fingers over the cast images that served as instructions, hoping to get the code right. “Three and none, relay’s one,” repeated Lapis to himself. He rang the bell with all his strength, relaying the message sent by Sakiko. He then sat down, exhausted. He was a safe distance from Mt. St. Helens and would likely have to sound the bell again.
Those closest to Mt. St. Helens were ordered to evacuate, many fleeing to the homes of relatives without even packing, not knowing the urgency of the alarm. Others did not trust the outcasts and refused to leave, including a woman named Sarah Anderson married to a man called Jose Gomez.
“But, dear, the outcasts have never been wrong about Mt. St. Helens. They can feel it, you know,” Jose pleaded with his wife.
“Everyone knows you can’t trust those criminals; they just want us to flee so they are free to loot our homes,” she retorted.
“Honey, we can lock up our belongings or rent a car and take them with us. Everyone we know has left already.”
“We have nowhere to go. Your parents won’t take us, and I will not go to my sisters,” said Sarah, finally bringing up the real problem with leaving.
“There are shelters set up. Even the easterners would take in a family fleeing Mt. St. Helens; they’ve been in this position themselves. We could stay with one of the larger familys, even Their Majesties Queen Diane and King Jean-Pierre would take us in.”
“We are not leaving, and that’s final!”
“Sweetheart, we can’t take the risk, think of our daughter,” he pleaded once more.
“I said it was final!” yelled his wife, storming out of the room.
Jose silently went to his daughter’s bedside and checked on the travel bag they kept packed and ready for her. He had always thought it strange that they had it yet never traveled anywhere. When Sarah went out for a walk the next evening, Jose grabbed his daughter, Claudia, and a small satchel he had packed for her and decided to go to his parents’ house.
Jose looked for the car rental shop near his house, but the doors and windows were boarded up. He peeked through a crack in the boards and there wasn’t a single car or bicycle inside. He picked up Claudia and hurried to the only other rental shop in town, and got there just as the owner drove away in his last car, unable to hear Jose’s shouts over the roar of the engine hooves.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” asked Claudia.
“We have to go for a trip and it’s a long way away, sweetie.”
“But my friend, Sylvia, is a long way away and we go to visit her all the time!” answered Claudia, encouragingly.
Jose thought hard about what she had said. Sylvia’s family lived just over five miles from his, a bit of a trek with a toddler and her toys, but hardly anything for him alone, and his parents were much farther away over rougher terrain. “But, honey, we have to travel twice that far, at least, to get where we are going.”
Still not totally understanding, Claudia picked up her bag and set of on the road to Sylvia’s house. Jose grabbed her hand and led her along the evacuation route. As he expected, she tired after only a short distance so he took off his cloak and put it on his daughter. He strapped her bag to his chest and he then heaved Claudia onto his back so he could carry her more easily. It was a cold night and he hoped his parents would ignore their vow that his marriage to such a low family made him no longer welcome. Maybe they would relent
due to the emergency and the absence of his wife. He knocked and his cousin opened the door. Upon seeing who it was, his cousin closed the door and went for his uncle without even seeking a reason for his presence. Jose could hear shouting and the door never opened again.
Dejected and concerned for his young daughter, Jose tried to remember where his in-laws lived. He did not know where the Andersons lived, as he and his wife had never visited them. Ideally he should go to her elder sister, but he did not even know her name. He hesitated, remembering how his wife had become estranged from her younger sister, mostly because his sister-in-law had married into a very high family, known as the Hainsworths. His own family, Gomez, wasn’t even on the council. Jose headed for Seattle, where he knew travelers were often welcomed into the guard house on nights such as this. The road was dark, but he was grateful that there were so few trees. Forests would attract cougars, and he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against even a young one.
Finally Jose reached the walls of the village, which he followed to the main gate. He looked up at the enormous gate and set a half-asleep Claudia on the step and knocked. A window on the guard house slid open, startling Jose.
“Traveler! What brings you to the city of the sun at this hour of the night?” hollered a gruff voiced guard.
“Sir, I am Jose Gomez, and this is Claudia. My daughter and I have come from a small town called River Vista, near Mt. St. Helens. We seek my sister-in-law, of the Anderson family. We have nowhere else to go and have been walking for over two days.”
The guard opened the door and invited Jose and Claudia inside. “It is not right to wake her at this hour, even if she is your sister-in-law. This room here is used by travelers, but due to the cold weather most aren’t traveling by night and are at the inn instead. You can use my cot, and there is a fireplace and kettle in this room if you want some hot tea. If the child needs to sleep, just turn off the light. Here’s the switch in case you need to relight it. I will take you to your sister-in-law when my shift ends in the morning.”
Jose turned off the lamp and tucked in Claudia, who fell asleep almost immediately. He then leaned back on a chair in the room and tried to sleep. Restless, Jose had barely dozed off when a messenger from within the city was let in through the back door.
“Joe, I didn’t know you were on duty tonight! Mrs. Mary Hainsworth-Anderson has sent me to find out why the travelers’ room is dark and to see if you have heard any word regarding her sister’s family.”
“Of course I’m on duty. Sam has relatives in town this week so we are dividing up his shifts. I have a man called Jose Gomez and his daughter Claudia Anderson here, but I didn’t want to awaken Mary Hainsworth-Anderson. The child is asleep in the travelers’ room.”
“I’ll tell her. Thanks, Joe,” said the messenger as he vanished into the night before Jose even got a chance to come out and talk with him.
Minutes later, as Jose was lighting the lantern and waking Claudia, there was a sharp knock on the back door. It then swung open, and in strode a tall young woman who appeared about 80 years old to Jose. She had long, very pale red hair that reminded him of Sarah, and piercing golden eyes. The guard stood hastily as she entered, but she ignored him and went into the travelers’ room. Jose, too, stood hastily, holding Claudia who squirmed to be let down. The woman stared at Claudia for a moment then said to her, “I am Mary Hainsworth-Anderson, your mommy’s sister. Why don’t you give Auntie Mary a hug and you and your daddy can come spend the night at my house. You have to be real quiet though; my daughter Jima and her daddy Charles are sound asleep and will be very grumpy if we wake them.”
Jose handed Claudia to her and followed closely, not at all surprised that she had ignored him. Claudia was her family, not him; and he was far beneath the family she had married into, as well as from a cross-feud family allied with the de la Luna family, sworn enemies of the Hainsworth family, although she certainly knew he was disowned. Silently, they entered her house without lighting any lamps and using a lone desk lamp in the outer room to see.
The house was far larger than Jose’s own, but it was laid out the same. The sleeping area where they were headed was the second ring of the round building. He was unable to see Charles or Jima from where they were, but that was expected because guests traditionally slept on the far side of the house from the family. Mary handed Claudia a doll and left them to their own devices, motioning them to be quiet. Jose noticed the light in the outer ring was not yet extinguished and he could faintly hear Mary whispering to herself, “at least the little one is safe. I wish Sarah would come too, but I doubt it after her outburst at my wedding. Such a silly thing, that she was upset because I married a Hainsworth and she only netted a Gomez. I doubt she’d want my charity, nor that of this family. So stubborn! May she listen to reason and either seek Claudia here or refuge elsewhere. The concrete beings are not to be trifled with, she knows that, and Mt. St. Helens least of all.” Jose silently echoed her sentiments and finally fell asleep on the lush down mattress, a far cry from his own hay-filled one back home.
~~~
While Jose stated his case, the magistrate gazed out the window at Mt. St. Helens, which seemed to have stopped its puffing of steam to ponder the situation as well, as the remnants of this small eruption dissipated to a light haze. She stopped paying attention long before because she knew the situation already. The magistrate pondered her options. Claudia will stay, that is certain, but what of her father? If he stays, there will be a precedent, and probably a ton of treaties and such with the de la Lunas. He said something about being disowned, who knows why, but that just makes things messier. I think we’ll just let Mt. St. Helens do its thing and I’ll bide my time until it calms down. Maybe by then this Jose will see if he really wants to join the family, which he certainly would have to do. I can’t have bastard riffraff from across the feud loitering around town without a good reason. And his wife, if she comes, is another matter entirely. So I guess it depends on Mt. St. Helens after all, but doesn’t it always?
“The ancient one is right, young ones, it shall come down to the will of those of the concrete nature,” the magistrate finally said, interrupting Jose’s tale.
Jose and Charles stared at her, puzzled, but before they could ask anything, she waved them away. “Young ones, there is nothing more to discuss now, I have decided.”
Jose turned to leave, pondering the magistrate’s decision, more uncertain than when he entered. What in the world is she talking about? She didn’t decide, or at least didn’t tell us anything.
“Ma’am, you have not told us your decision,” said Charles.
“Ah! I knew I was forgetting something! The child, Claudia, will stay with Mary and Charles. The foreigner from de la Luna lands may stay with them if they are willing, until Mt. St. Helens has returned to peaceful slumber yet again. At that point a decision will be made regarding him and possibly his wife. The child will stay, regardless.”
They stepped outside, escorted by the staff. It had been scarcely half an hour, yet the sun now glinted, off the ash-filled haze, turning Mt. St. Helens into a delicate silhouette. It seemed so peaceful, so calm. How could such a gentle mountain be such a threat? Charles stared at it for a second, mesmerized; while Jose thought about the magistrate’s decision. How can she say that? Why would she be willing to take my daughter, probably the only family I have left, away from me? Why can’t she see past that stupid feud and realize what it is doing to people, to families? Maybe Charles can talk to her, reason with her. If he can even understand her, that is. How will we explain this to…?
Claudia rushed out of the house, with Mary’s scolding about tracking in ash following her out the door. “Daddy, did you and Uncle Charles talk to the leader lady? Did she say we could stay? Auntie Mary said you asked her how long we could stay. I want to stay a long time. It’s fun here. I made a new friend! We are decorating for a party I’m not supposed to tell you about. Hurry, come see!”
~~~
Claudia stared out the window towards Mt. St. Helens, ignoring her adoptive mother Mary entirely. Mary was trying to get Claudia to speak to her, as the child had only spoken to Mary’s daughter, Sally, since the eruption, and even then only when absolutely necessary. Mary offered Claudia a paper and an old fountain pen of hers, trying to teach her to write, as the girl was now school-aged, but Claudia knocked over the ink and jabbed the quill into the table until the nib snapped, and then tossed it on the floor and stared out the window again.
There was a knock and Mary turned to see the magistrate coming into the Great Room. “If you are looking for Charles Hainsworth…” she began as she hastily rose in greeting.
The magistrate held up a hand for her to both sit down again and let the magistrate speak, “I do desire to speak with thee, Daughter of Anderson.”
After many years with the Hainsworth family, Mary still could barely understand Charles, let alone the thick accent of his family combined with the formal speech used by the magistrate. She hesitated and asked, “You wish to speak with Claudia? I’m sorry, but she refuses to speak to anyone.”
The magistrate laughed, realizing Mary misunderstood her, carefully simplifying her speech and switching to the dialect of the capital. “No, I would like to speak with you, Mary, about Claudia. I think she may feel like she does not belong, like she is a burden. Maybe if she had something special to call her own, something intangible yet valuable she might come out of her shell. I was thinking a poem written just for her.”
Mary stared down at her hands, “I don’t, uh, poetry isn’t, umm....”
“Do not worry, I have a professional coming,” said the magistrate reassuringly as Mary visibly relaxed. “She works for Queen Diane who was more than willing to have her poet help us out.”
“Diane, the queen of the whole country and head of the Council?! Wouldn’t that make her the Poet Laureate?” responded Mary, startled. The house is a shambles; we don’t have any decent food to offer her; she will probably expect to be paid a lot; I don’t know of anything inspirational around here; I hope Claudia’s silence doesn’t anger her….
“I will take care of everything. She will be working in my garden unless she finds a place she prefers. She is coming tomorrow, I have no clue how long she will be here,” said the magistrate, practically answering Mary’s thoughts.
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mary, eager to end the awkward conversation and appease the magistrate.
“You do not have to speak so formally with me, child. I had best be going; I have work to do,” concluded the magistrate, as she walked out calmly.
Mary turned to Claudia to see if she reacted at all to the news, but Claudia was still staring out the window. “Did you hear that? The magistrate is bringing the best poet in the world to write a poem just for you! Isn’t that exciting? Are you going to tell Sally how lucky you are?”
Claudia shook her head and went outside. She quickly caught up with the magistrate and tugged on her skirt, pointing to Mt. St. Helens with her other hand.
“What do you want honey? You can’t visit Mt. St. Helens and it isn’t about to erupt, there is nothing to worry about, sweetheart,” said the magistrate, trying to guess Claudia’s meaning.
Claudia shook her head and pulled out the paper and broken pen from before and pointed at Mt. St. Helens again. When the magistrate seemed perplexed, Claudia dropped the pen and paper and ran off towards the garden crying.
The magistrate followed her and saw her try to open the gate, although she couldn’t reach the latch. “You cannot go in there, Claudia, only grownups can.”
Claudia sat down in front of the gate, still crying and refused to leave. The magistrate left her in the care of the gardener and went back home, pondering Claudia's outburst, frustrated that Desaqua forced her into such a trivial matter. The Feud was so much easier to handle than children.