Loretta's Labyrinth

Fit For Punishment

My hand reached hopelessly for the key, and I even held it in my hand for several tantalizing seconds, but I felt that I had to earn it. To prevent the key from being stolen, I hid it beneath the basket of pomegranates. My pockets only held two silver pieces; one more was needed.

I got lost in the traffic of people who crossed in zigzags to other traders and auctioneers. Frustrated folk navigating through the crowd to return to their homes became aggressive. A taller man in a brown fur jacket shoved a shirtless beggar, sending him crashing into me, spiraling me onto the ground. When I stood up, my pockets felt empty. I checked them, and indeed, the two precious silver pieces I'd had were gone.

Crawling under people's feet, I made out the shine of one of them; but it was quickly kicked back and forth, soon disappearing entirely. "Where is it, just one of them?" I shouted, and wailed at the inevitability of them being stolen. I gave up and had to search the sea of people for my parents, dissapointed and maladjusted. I could find them neither, and panick began to set in; though, it was soon put to rest.

"Find anything you can afford?" asked father, clasping my shoulders from behind.

"My silver pieces were stolen!" I responded gravely, with slumped arms and my head hung low.

"Oh . . ." Father tried to hide the sorrow in his voice to search for a solution. "Do you have any idea who might've taken them? Have you seen any suspicious characters at all?"

"I ran into a beggar, but I saw the coins after being kicked through feet . . ."

"Shit," Father quietly cursed. "Well, this might cheer you up, if it interests you. Your mother and I bought something. We wanted to keep it as a surprise. In any case, It's worth a lot more than a few silver pieces."

My head hung higher, though a frown still remained. My father took my hand and kept me close, leading me through the crowd to my mother who sat on a light-colored wooden bench with metal arm rests which swirled fancily. 

Beside a basket of food--which she'd given in and bought some bruised apples at a lower price which had rolled along the stone, as well as picking up a watermellon--was a basket with a red pin erected up. My mother stood up with both baskets in her arms; the apple's scent blew into my face, and created another pleasant, yet dim memory.

Father offered to take the mysterious basket. "Amon had his silver stolen. I was thinking we should show him the present," he whispered. Mother stood shocked, with her mouth agape and took longer to relieve her sadness than Father. She did, however, accept, and handed Father the basket.

With it in his arms, Mother removed its contents: pulling out a firework the length of her arm. "Amon, this is for your birthday. But it won't be tomorrow. We want to give you a real swell birthday; and we were thinking: only one more year after today, you'll be ten. We've got a few of your other real presents chosen. If you're willing to wait until next year, you'll have something to look forward to!" she pleaded. That memory allowed me to remember my age. Or at least, how old I'd been before.

Truth was, as a spoiled kid, I saw no point in delay if I were to receive the presents either way down the road. But I was frightened to argue with my parents. "That sounds good!"

"Oh, you're becoming such a big boy," she exclaimed proudly, and knelt down to hug me tightly. That memory allowed me to remember my mother's warmth as she lovingly held me. After some time, she retreated, and looked at Father."Is there an outhouse near here?" (Outhouse = Bathroom.)

"Beats me," answered Father. "I could help you look for one, if you let me go in with you," he chuckled. I didn't know what that meant. "Do you have to relieve yourself as well, Amon?"

"I don't!"

"Well then," said Father. "You could keep our belongings safe. That's a good job for a knight like yourself."

"Could you keep it safe, Amon?" asked Mother.

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Promise?" she asked. I replied: "Promise!"

She placed the firework back inside Father's basket, which he handed to me, and patted my head abruptly before departing with Mother. "Stay at this bench," he called. With them leaving, my mind began wandering. As enthusiastic I felt about playing guardian, I soon thought of trading the firework for the key, and where that key could bring me.

The firework must've been worth far more than three silver pieces. I took off from the bench (ignoring my parents request) like an addict giving in, but kept both of the woven baskets in my hands.

I found the firework trader on the outskirts of the market. Rather than having a stall, he sat on a bucket beside a wagon which was stuffed with fireworks and worked on new fireworks on the spot. Unlike the other traders, his coin was kept in the open in a hat by his side, albeit several inches behind him: practically begging to be stolen.

I snuck to the right in the direction of the wind, ducking behind a leather trader. If I'd been any smarter: I would've been less conspicuous if I'd walked confidently behind him. Without being sure if someone had seen me or not, I hid in the shadows of an alley behind him and set down both baskets.

I hadn't worn shoes to the beach, and hadn't put any on since--making my feet soft and quiet against the stone. It'd been swept along with the rest of the town-square beforehand; yet between then and now, none had dirtied the area I snuck upon. The ground was clean and smooth. There wasn't a twig to be audibly stepped on nor a pebble to be kicked, and even if there were, it'd be difficult to overcome the clomping and shouting from the market.

The old pyrotechnician was working pitifully slow and nearly falling asleep beneath the sun. I kept my eye on his coins and snuck up to the grey tophat, though when I peered inside, the contents made up to only three silver pieces. Had mother lied about its cost? Or perhaps, they struck a deal with the man. Regardless, it was enough.

I shamelessly stole the three pieces, and quickly made me way back to the alley.

 When I returned, my parent's two baskets I'd promised to protect, were gone.