As I begin to find my way, the click of my heels on the marble floor and its echo are the only things I can hear. It is bright and glowing outside –gold, silver, and teal limestone covered every surface, from the ground to the walls of households, reflecting sunrays everywhere. There is no hint of verdancy in our neighborhood; my mother told me that trees and plants were for the use of farmers only, not us -the respectable citizens. We aren't responsible of taking care of them, since other people have the duty to do so.
No one is in sight, leaving no one for me to ask for the directions to The Muster, so I strut without taking any Easts or Wests, hoping to be able to return home easily if I get lost. I feel my feet getting sore, and my forehead -for my mother's misfortune- sweating. I feel tired and nauseous because of how sizzling the weather is; it would've been great if I drove myself to The Muster, but there's a zero possibility for that to happen at all. I adjust my shawl so that it doesn't fall of my head, and when I look up, the luminous sun causes my eyes to squint hard, but I am still able to catch the sight of a huge metal gate stationed at the end of the last row of houses.
My heart starts to pound profusely. This must be it. I think. This must be The Muster. So I pick up my pace.
I'm getting closer and closer to the gate. To my future. The smoothness of the sidewalk tries to trip me a few times, but I keep my composure as I finally get to the grey rusty door. A brick-size window is placed eyelevel on the door, through it, I can see a garden. Or is it a farm? Extraordinary numbers of palm trees are lined symmetrically with flowers and bushes of every kind settling in between them. Beams of light slither their way through the fronds of the towering trees, giving the place a breathtaking vibrant mood. River water, so blue and scenic, runs through the middle of the vegetation army, splashing and shooting away to the faraway sea. The whiff of soil and fruits intoxicates me; never have I ever breathed in so much flora and earth. This is truly the perfect location for The Muster.
I look down to the silver knob and grab it. It takes me a couple of tries to get the door to open; it's rough and hard, digging into the dirt. This is when I realize I have to walk in heels on soil, but I disregard that thought because nothing should stop be from meeting my Mate.
When I finally get in, the door slams shut, sounding like thunder. I hear a couple of birds fluttering their wings away into the white sky, mentally apologize for the disturbance I caused, and pick up my dress and robe to keep them from getting tarnished. The heels of my shoes dig into the soft ground -just as I anticipated- spoiling my prestige, but I continue walking.
As I wander around the bushes, I suddenly stop and yelp. Loud. My hands fence my face as I quickly close my eyes. I stay in that position for a while, waiting for something to happen, but I don't hear anything apart from the swish of the leaves and the strong beating of my heart in my ears. I slowly lower my hands and open my eyes, only to cover my face again when I get a glance at what's in front of me.
A human being. A male human being. A male human being who's definitely not 25 years old. Definitely not hygienic. Definitely not dressed appropriately for The Muster. And is definitely not my Mate.
"Who are you?" I gasp. "What are you doing in The Muster? And why do you stink so disgustingly? Where did you even come from?" I ramble out of fright.
The boy gets up from the ground, brushes over himself, and looks up at me, "I could say the same to you, except for uh... stinking. I'm Abram. I work here, picking dates." The boy casually states, gesticulating at the trees above us. "You can lower your arms by the way, I'm not going to do anything to you; I only want to know what you're doing here."
I hesitate, not knowing whether to do what he ask me to do or not, so I grab the hem of my shawl and cover my noes and mouth with it. "I'm supposed to meet my Mate here, in The Muster." I inform him, without looking into his eyes. "But it seems like you lost the way to your office."
Abram doesn't speak for a while. I look at him and find him staring at me with wide brown eyes, making me feel uncomfortable and harassed. But I take this opportunity to observe him too; he has a tan complexion, the same way I do, and black curls covered with a wrapped piece of a flannel shirt. He wears an ugly blue suit with patches, cuts, and mud smeared all over it. His hands, holding weird-looking tools, seem rough and coarse. He, for sure, doesn't work at an office.
"You're in the Work Field, Miss," he stutters, "The Muster is a bit far away from here... Wait, you're not even supposed to be here. Miss, you do realize that you're banned from entering this area and from meeting males before the age of 25, right?" He questions, expecting a no from me. "Can you please leave The Work Field and head to your 'meeting'. If someone saw you –no, us- we'll be sent to court." He states, eyes fixed on the ground and arms pointing at the door I came in through.
"If I've been informed that this is the Work Field, then I wouldn't have entered. So leaving this 'Work Field' with no given directions won't help my case. At least do me a favor by keeping the 'laws' to yourself, and giving me the way to The Muster, if you so sure about everything you say." I declare, annoyed by the way he was talking to me.
Abram's head shoots up, "Turn around, use the knob to exit the door, walk five blocks away, turn left, walk another five blocks, turn right, and this cursed Muster is going to be three buildings away." He mockingly states, gives me his back and stomps away. It takes me a while to register the directions –and his behavior- as I stumble my way to the metal door.
I sigh as I grab the door open. My hair is definitely ruffled by now, and I can see that mud caught on to my dress, and feel my make up getting clammy. I smell my robe and inhale a whiff of dust. I cough and my eyes tear up. How am I supposed to face my Mate looking like this?
