The Silver Fox

Chapter 20: Nathanial

I wave goodbye to Kyle. Mamma Jane embraces me. Little James grabs my pinkie with sticky purple fingers, a bowl of handpicked berries under the other arm. He is so proud to have discovered the stash all by himself.

“Yummies?”

A blackberry squishes between our hands.

“I have to go now. I am going to go on an adventure, but only for big kids. While I am away, be sure to listen to your mommy.”

He runs behind Kyle in the excitement that only a little kid can capture. So much to do, so little time. Mamma Jane rushes up and pushes extra food into my saddle pocket. Forever thinking of others, that is a wonderful person. I place one foot on the stirrup and begin to hoist myself over, but a small hand tugs at my pant leg. Little James stands beneath me with wide eyes,

“You come back, won't you? Miss you!”

The little boy, shrouded in green, is called back by Mamma Jane and quickly shoves a small object into my open hand. I cautiously slip it into my saddle pocket to examine later. My leg swings over my horse and he gallops off through the apple orchards. The farmers out here have little luck, only a few fruits hang on the lush green branches that line the long dirt path between the trunks.

I tilt my head back as the wind flies through my hair. On the edge of my vision I see shimmering twilight blue fading into brown. My hair has grown out so that the blue reaches beneath my ears as if the sky seeped into it like water into a sponge.

I reach up to grab a large apple from a branch that hangs overhead. I bite into it but am surprised to find it sour and tasteless, though it is nearing the end of the season. Poor farmers, too poor to do any other profession, the sale of the few fruits that are grown on acres upon acres of land just barely keeping them afloat. Taunted every day by the sight of the rich, in their pristine little shiny white houses and electronic screens on their walls. No need to do physical labor. A circle that keeps on receiving, much different than the one of the poor which keeps them lower class.

Lamp light throbs in the windows of the little farm houses as I pass by. I have ridden all day and exhaustion overcomes me. I tie myself to the horse’s neck so not to fall off in my sleep. I rest my head against his soft, silky mane and feel my eyes flutter closed.

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I wake up with extremely bright lights shining in my eyes. The lights stream like multicolored stars seen while looking at the sun in the desert. The smears of light fade inwards to form the shapes of downtown Rania. The magical lights of Rania shining hope in the darkness of night. Or should I say morning because glowing beams of pink shine on the brilliant clouds at the east to prove that the sun is still extant.

Silver buildings glimmer in the early light, Annalisa’s hair in the wind. Air vehicles tiptoe through the sky at high speeds. Only the richest Raniums can ever dream of owning anything besides a horse, because there are no vehicles between. And if anyone made their own, King Tuin has them immediately executed. His minions are not allowed to own an AV because it would be too easy for them to leave him.

The self-renewing energy of downtown taunts the other Raniums, all of which have to live in their own filth, burning wood for goodness sake! If their children whom they have loved for five years are taken away, it is the death of them. The rich can just buy their way to happiness but on the outskirts, family is all they have.

I see the red field pulse around me. I hold my breath and count to ten. I repeat the key to my first power over and over, blue for calm, purple for relief, red for anger, grey for worry, green for sadness, and orange for excitement. How dare Tuin think that he can just take away their loved ones! Shove them into concentration camps, or worse, use them as slaves! I feel no guilt for the times I have freed these unrightfully imprisoned men. The one thing I regret is waiting so long to start to use my power to use the ones of others.

I reach into the saddle and feel around for some bread given to me by Mamma Jane when my hand clasps around a small object. I had almost forgotten about James! I nimbly pull it out and untie the tight twine bow around it. The leather scrap falls open to reveal a pile of berries. Yummies roll out; blackberries, blueberries, and, what! What are these? I finger the small orange berries, golden fish eggs that grow on bushes. But where have I seen these before? Why can’t I remember! Just like my past, my family, these spheres of mystery are shrouded from my mind. Something catches the sunlight. I dump the berries out into my hand and pull out a small, silver key. To what exactly? What did this little four year old boy know that I don’t? A small chain is laced expertly through a tiny hole in the intricate metalwork of the key. Vines swoop to create teeth that fit into some hidden lock out there, in the vast city of Rania. But where?