Soldier at the Door (33 page)

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Authors: Trish Mercer

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Fantasy, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Teen & Young Adult, #Sagas, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Religion & Spirituality, #Christian Fiction

BOOK: Soldier at the Door
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Mahrree exhaled. “The soldiers are there
protecting
them. But that’s not what the world wants to believe, is it?”

“And in Winds, they’ve had some problems with too many wagons on the roads. The main bridge over the Wind River washed out, so soldiers were redirecting wagons to other roads, which caused a few jams. Until the bridge is repaired, yes, soldiers are on a
few
intersections trying to prevent accidents.”

“Well, there goes all the mystery from
that
story,” Mahrree said. “But no one in Edge will believe it. And giant fish? They’ll think that’s a diversion from the real story—the commander at Coast is taking over!”

“Ha,” Perrin said mirthlessly. “The commander at Coast is a fat colonel older than my father who wants nothing more than to eat crabs and watch all the old men walk along the shore with their old wives for their twentieth wedding anniversaries.” He rolled his eyes. “The only thing he’d ever take over is the best bench.”

Mahrree blinked. “You think we’ll be
old
at age forty-eight for our twentieth anniversary?”

“You know what I mean.”

She went to stand behind him and massaged his broad, tight shoulders. “I think you’re going to have to do something.”

“Our twentieth anniversary isn’t for seventeen more years. We just celebrated our third, remember? Shem came over to watch the children and—”

“No!” she laughed. “I mean—”

“I know what you mean,” he said, dejected. “Phase Two. I have to put a stop to this, at least here in Edge. I have to win their hearts and minds all over again.”

Mahrree cringed. “I really don’t want to debate in public again. It’s been so long—”

“I
was
thinking about a debate, but I wasn’t thinking about
you
,” he assured her.

“Why not?” she asked, suddenly feeling insulted.

“There’s someone else who needs to make himself known here, too. And for that, I’ll need your help.”

 

---

 

It was with almost perverse pleasure that Mahrree knocked on the door of the small shed the next afternoon. She held her breath with anticipation.

“Come in?” called the timid voice.

Mahrree threw open the door, hitting the large desk as she did so.

“Ah, Mrs. Shin!” Mr. Hegek was visibly relieved as he stood to greet her. “I thought you were someone else looking for another shovel.”

“No, no. You’re exactly the man I want to see. You see, I have a problem—” She leaned towards him, friendlier than she ever had before.

The poor man actually attempted a small smile.

“As it is, the
entire village
has a problem, and I believe you’re the man who can help fix it.”

His smile vanished as his little green eyes tripled in size. “Me? Are you sure?”

“Oh yes, absolutely. You see, Edge is . . . well,
edgy
right now. Administrative changes to the schools, the forts, the magistrates—everyone is imagining the worst about people they used to know and
don’t know at all
,” she hinted.

“Are you talking about me?” he whispered.

She really didn’t know what people thought of him, but she knew what
she
thought. “I swear you live in this shack, Mr. Hegek.”

He glanced nervously around as if she could tell.

She suddenly felt enormous sympathy for him, and regretted ever thinking him to be an arm of the Administrators. He was barely a fingernail, and a clipped one at that.

“Mr. Hegek,” she smiled sweetly, sincerely, “let’s give Edge an opportunity to get to know and
trust
you. You’re in charge of all the schools that begin again next week, but how many parents have you met?”

“A, a, a, a few,” he stammered.

“You’re going to meet them all, and this is how: you mentioned that you enjoyed debating as a boy, right? Well, no one here has dared have a public debate since the changes were made with the fort. I think everyone’s afraid they may say something wrong.”

“With, with, with . . . your husband now, now in charge.” He nodded too frequently.

“He’s not happy about any of this either, Mr. Hegek,” Mahrree confided quietly. “And he also enjoys debating. He hasn’t had a worthy opponent since we married, and I think he may be a bit rusty, but that’s all right—”

“Wait, wait, wait . . . whoa,
hold on
,” Hegek held up his hands to stop her. “Are you suggesting that I debate . . . debate . . .” His hands moved, but his mouth couldn’t anymore. Slowly he sank back into his chair.

“My husband, yes. On the 63
rd
Day of Weeding, the day school starts next week. It will be perfect—you can go to each of the schools, introduce yourself, tell them that you expect to see all the children and their parents in the amphitheater that night—”

That’s when Mahrree realized that many parts of the director still hadn’t moved. His hands were still up, failing to stop any of her words, and his mouth twisted oddly.

She bit her lip as his chin began to tremble.

“Oh, Mr. Hegek, he’s really a
big softy!
” she assured him, hoping her voice didn’t carry out of his office-shack. “This will be good! It will allow the village to get to know you better and show that Major Shin approves of debates. You have yet to meet my husband. I promise his reputation is much more fearsome than the real man. People used to love him, up until several weeks ago.”

Mr. Hegek’s hands finally came together to start massaging each other.

“I, I, I, I . . . understand he’s
killed a dozen Guarders,
” he whispered as if it were a great secret.

Mahrree leaned in closer. “There’s some debate about the actual number
single-handedly
,” she whispered back, “but . . . are you a Guarder?”

He gasped and blinked. “No! Of course not!”

Mahrree stood back up and smiled. “Then you have nothing to worry about! Perrin?”

The director nearly slid out of his chair in terror when his door flew open, catching again on the great desk. Ducking so as to not crack his head on the low door, the major marched into this office with a big smile and an outstretched hand.

“Good afternoon!”

“Major!” Hegek whimpered. He braced himself with his toes and tried to push himself back up into sitting position. He looked at Perrin’s still outstretched hand and, deciding he should probably stand in his presence, looked for a clean spot on his desk to push himself up. Instead, he knocked over a large stack next to the edge of the desk and a landslide of directives floated aimlessly to the floor.

Perrin stepped quickly around the desk, grabbed the traumatized director’s hand, and pulled him effortlessly to a standing position.

“Just call me Perrin,” he said as kindly as he could.

Mr. Hegek, shriveled to shorter than Mahrree, looked up into Perrin’s face and nodded. Then he turned to Mahrree with pleading in his eyes.

“I’ll leave you two alone to decide a topic. You don’t need me meddling!” and she closed the door. A distinct whimper leaked from the shed as Mahrree walked briskly onto the school grounds to start giggling. Once she composed herself she circled the shack for seve
ral minutes, trying to hear what the muffled voices were saying.

Eventually she heard a distinct laugh from Perrin.

A few minutes later she heard an unfamiliar laugh; Perrin had won over the director.

About ten minutes later they emerged like old friends.

“Until three nights from now, Major Shin! And don’t be too confident. I may be only as tall as your wife, but I do more than flutter eyelashes to win a debate.” Mr. Hegek waved to Mahrree and walked back into his office with what Mahrree thought was almost a jaunty little step.

Mahrree turned on Perrin as they walked home. “Well done! And what did he mean by that, ‘flutter eyelashes’? What did you say to him?” She jabbed him gently in the ribs.

“I only gave him my version of our debates,” he said. “I told him I didn’t want any tricks played, and he became so nervous I thought every paper on his desk would slide away. So I told him what
kinds
of tricks I was talking about.” He winked at his wife and put his arm around her. “He lightened up considerably after that. I was sure you wouldn’t mind.”

“Well, when you put it that way, what can I say? What’s your topic?”

“I suggested we revisit an old favorite of his, and he suggested we twist it a little. We’ll argue the merits of repealing or altering the First Law of Nature, and who should be responsible for it. He’ll go around on the first day of school, tell all the children they should be there, and since the major has requested it . . .” Perrin sighed. “Honestly, I’ve never been so nervous for a debate in my entire life! There’s so much at stake, Mahrree.”

“Even more than when we were debating?”

“Yes, even more than that. I knew I’d eventually win you over. Just a matter of time,” he said offhandedly. “But this is the whole village. I have to be the major and still be their neighbor. I don’t know if I can restore that balance.”

“If anyone can, it’s you.”

 

-
--

 

The lone figure of a young man made his way up into the forest, heading in a northerly direction, one hundred twenty-six paces from the fresh spring at the edge of the woods. It was well past dark, and the figure’s dark clothing hid him well. He sat down on a large rock by a hot bubbling spring and waited.

Moments later another figure approached him from the north, dressed in green and brown mottled clothing, and sat down next to him.

“The forest has become very active this week. Something big is coming soon. Do you think you’re ready?”

The younger man sighed. “It’s what I’ve been waiting for, for over a year. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The older man next to him nodded. “And now for the real question—is
he
ready?”

“Oh, absolutely! There’s no one more prepared than him. He can take on the world!”

The man smiled at his companion’s enthusiasm. “Now, think carefully and honestly. This is important. Is he
really
ready, or is your closeness to the situation clouding your objectivity?”

The younger man stared into the bubbling spring, not at all co
ncerned by his close proximity. They’d been watching it for decades, and all it ever did was bubble.

“I may be close to the situation, but I’ve never met anyone quite like him, or his wife.” He looked up at the man. “Isn’t he the reason I’m here? Is there any doubt?”

The older man shook his head. “No. There’s no doubt. Just caution. And concern. Some of it may strike a little close to home for him. There’s also concern for you as well.”

The younger man smiled. “I know I’m doing the right thing. This is where I’m supposed to be. Is there anything else I should be doing?”

“No, you
are
doing the right thing. And I don’t think there’s anyone more apt for the position than you, Zenos.”

Shem nodded. “Then let them come. We’re ready.”

 

-
--

 

Rector Densal smiled as he looked at the tables and chairs crowded with congregation members eating, talking, and laughing. He loved Holy Days because each felt like trip away from the world, a day lifted out of time each week where everything was
different
, when cares were set aside, and everyone in their neighborhood came together to discuss The Writings and life, and ready themselves for another week.

Not only was this Hogal Densal’s love, but his life. He couldn’t have imagined doing anything different with the time the Creator allotted him than to remind those he loved about the Creator who loved them.

It was an unusual moment for him. No one was rushing up to speak to him, or asking to meet with him for “only a few minutes” in his office, minutes that frequently turned into hours as sorrows, troubles, and concerns spilled out unheeded, the confessors desperately hoping Rector Densal could help them find a way to clean up the mess. He always could.

But he also knew exactly why he had this rare free moment and what he was to do with it.

He searched the packed congregation hall where, three hours ago, the benches were filled with those to hear his sermon, then moved aside to bring in tables for eating. Now that most of the food everyone brought to share was gone, his congregation began to change the seating arrangements yet again for an afternoon of conversations. Near the middle, towards the left, he saw them.

Mahrree was at one table talking and laughing with some other young mothers as they bounced their babies or discreetly nursed them. Jaytsy played nearby on the floor with other toddlers and a pile of soft knitted toys that older women brought each week to entertain the little ones.

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