Remi's Great Escape (Forestfolk Prequel)

Chapter 10

They left food for me. I couldn't believe that either.

After several bouts of wrestling with indecision, I hadn't gone anywhere except to retrieve my few belongings from the bushes. I'd fallen asleep in the tree, and awoken to find daylight waning and a tray of food at the base of it. I half expected someone to tackle me when I crawled down to fetch the tray, but no one did.

I spent the night in the tree.

In the morning, Bren appeared with another tray of food. She gazed up at me. "Well, look at that. I thought Galen was telling tales when he said you were sleeping up there."

I looked down warily at her. "Wh-what else did he tell you?"

"He said to find someone to clear out one of the storage cabins. I don't suppose you'd like to volunteer? I'm getting a bit old for heavy lifting."

Galen hadn't told her I was an Aberration? Or Gifted or whatever? "So, you're not afraid of me?" I asked, just to be sure.

Her brow scrunched with amusement. "I'm afraid you're going to need a bath soon, but that's about it."

A smile sneaked onto my face, and I decided it was safe to come down. If Galen was keeping the truth about me to himself, then maybe I had a chance here.

After inhaling the food, I followed Bren to a small cabin near the commons.

"They've been throwing firewood into two different storage areas when it could all fit into one. Some of these men don't care one whit about organization." She gestured through the scarred doorway. "Look at that. Tossed in here like their hair was on fire."

I peered inside. It was kind of big for just firewood. Logs and dried branches lay in haphazard stacks around the floor. Cobwebs adorned the corners. I may have even heard rats scuttling about.

"All this is supposed to go in there." Bren pointed to a smaller cabin nearby. "You up for it?"

These people offered me food and safety, without demanding anything in return. They were asking for my help. Asking. This was not Plainsman behavior at all.

I nodded and set my things down by the entrance.

Bren patted my shoulder. "I thought so. Just don't hurt yourself, all right?"

I nodded again, and she headed back to her duties. With a quick tug to tighten the drawstring around my baggy pants, I got to work.

I had transferred about five armloads when a troop of jostling kids showed up. They chased each other, squealing and throwing tiny pebbles. They were a mix of boys and girls, varying in age and height. The oldest appeared to be no more than eleven.

They stopped when they saw me. "What are you doing?" the oldest girl said.

"Bren said to move this firewood."

"Why?"

I shrugged and continued taking my armload to the smaller cabin.

A boy slightly shorter than her spotted my bow and ran to it. "Hey, I want one of these."

I bristled, unsure what to do.

"Kids aren't allowed to have weapons," the girl admonished.

"Then how come he gets to have one?" He faced me. "This is yours, right?"

I swallowed and nodded, unsure if it was unwise to admit this.

He picked it up. "I want to try it."

"We're not supposed to play with weapons," the girl reminded him.

"Aw, come on. This is so much better than sticks!" He plucked at the string, and I winced, hoping he wouldn't damage it.

The girl marched up to him. "Put that down."

"No."

"It's not even yours!"

"They tell us to share, right? We share things."

"They don't mean taking other people's things without asking." She reached out for the bow.

He swung his arm out of reach.

I stood there with my armload of wood, dumbly watching the argument unfold.

"Give it here!"

"It's not yours either!"

All the other kids gawked as the girl managed to grab one end of the bow. "Weapons are dangerous."

"To you, maybe." The boy tugged at his end of the bow.

The girl tugged back. "You're going to get in trouble!"

I watched in horror, waiting for my precious bow to snap in two, too stupid to step in.

"Fine," the boy said, letting go.

Unprepared for the sudden release in tension, the girl yelped as the bow whipped past her head and out of her grasp. It flew, end over end, and landed in a campfire.

"No!" I dropped the firewood and ran to the blaze. I tried reaching for it, but the fire was too hot.

A small boy about Nirrin's age, who had been sitting by the fire, reached in as if there was no fire at all. He plucked the bow out of the flames and handed it to me.

Stunned, I took the bow from him, only to hiss in pain when its hot surface scorched my fingers.

The small boy picked it up again, his big green eyes confused why I couldn't hold it like he could.

"Did you see what Goben did?" the older boy shouted and ran over to us. The other kids crowded around. "He put his hand right in the fire. Do it again!"

Goben stared at all the kids gaping at him, confused.

"Give me that rock," the older boy commanded.

"Don't tell him that!" the girl said, swatting the boy.

Goben set the bow down and reached into the blaze anyway, retrieving the rock that sat within it.

"Wow!" the boy cried, arms waving in excitement. "Goben's gifted!"

I braced for something bad to happen.

But no one threw rocks at him. No one jeered.

"That's amazing," I heard someone say.

"He's so lucky," said another.

Lucky? They thought having weird abilities was a good thing?

The kids chattered among themselves and wandered away, having forgotten about me and my singed bow. They took Goben with them so they could play.

"Sorry about this," the girl said, and handed the now-cool bow to me. "I hope it's okay."

I nodded, accepting the bow and her apology, still too astonished to assess the damage. I'd just witnessed the discovery of a new Aberration, and they wanted to play with him! Gifted, they'd called him. Like it was something enviable.

I pondered this awhile.

Maybe here, it was.

The values we teach our kids have great impact on the people around us. (Like the value of voting!)