Z

I had heard my parent’s whispers over the past weeks. Ever since I had graduated from school, they had tried to force me to join the family catering business - I don’t think they understand though that I didn’t want to serve anyone in this small, dreary town full of people who think they know other’s business. Always gossiping about others yet so self-obsessed is what this town is. Which was one of the many reasons I want to escape this pathetic town. My plan? One of the recurring gossip topics was the City of Viva - a supposed city outside this town and the dry plains that surround it. Rumour has it that in Viva City was full of happiness and its citizens were free to do as they please, unlike our oppressing, dull neighbourhood: all music and art was reviewed by the authorities, curfew at midnight, bright colours only to be worn on weekends, important choices to be decided on by the Council, the list is endless. It’s a wonder how anyone could live here. However for now, I bide my time. Really, there was no option ever since one of our neighbours ratted to my parents that they had overheard me talking to some of the vagrants a couple of weeks ago. So, my parents ever so scared of losing their only child have decided to lock me inside. Literally barring my windows, locking the house door from the outside. My social life gone, that is if I even had a social life to begin with. I used to have a circle of friends since kindergarten. We would go over to each other’s houses and run around breathlessly in the garden as our parents sat in the shade gossiping or making small talk depending on how close they were. Since graduation though, I had stopped talking to them. Every invite was turned down with some lame excuse. Friends, neighbours and relatives had learnt better than to invite me now. The only invites I received now were the ones out of courtesy. No one actually expected me to show up to anything. As far as anyone was concerned, I was the freak in the dark, locked up room, antisocial as ever - never stepping a foot outside my house.

I watched the deep blue of the night sky smothered the calm pinks, yellows and oranges like the quilt that covered my bedspread. Slowly at first, as if to make sure the quilt fell into the right place then all at once. Flecks of stars appeared, speckling the dark sky like blood on a fresh cut, welling up, slowly but surely becoming more visible. As the other houses lights went off one by one, I took steps towards the large window on the other end of the room. I cautiously opened the window, careful not to disturb anyone. The metal rods over my window were quite thick but on the other hand, were spaced far apart. Stepping on the ledge, I leaned on the sturdy bars for support; the metal ledge pushing against my bare feet. The metal rod on the furthest right was spaced more towards to the left and gave me enough space for me to squeeze through and so, I did and jumped down from the window - easy since my room was on the first floor of the house.

And like every other night, I ran towards the border of the town where all the vagrants were, the darkness of the night sky covering me.

One of the vagrants took a drag of something, closed her eyes and exhaled smoke that curled around in the freezing air. We sat cross-legged on mismatching carpets that covered the ‘living room’ of one of the vagrant’s home’s. The room was dimly lit and despite the carpet, the floor was still cold. “So, what do you townsfolk want to know about the outside?” she asked. I took a deep breath. “Is it any of your business?” I quickly answered her question with one of my sharp short replies I often gave to my nosy neighbours or relatives but asking the vagrant was something different, it felt wrong to speak to her in such a way. I watched the vagrant visibly flinch before regaining her calm composure. She was only curious. That only made me feel worse about answering her this way. She gave a hearty laugh and smiled but I could tell it wasn’t sincere. “Quick this one, eh?” she shouted to one of the other vagrants, an old man with a countless amount of wrinkles and always an interesting story to tell. “Mmm…” he mumbled absent-mindedly as he searched for something high and low. “So kid,” she took another drag and leaned closer to me, her braids swinging from side to side “What do you want?” I leaned forward. “Information about the City of Viva” The vagrant immediately backed up and laughed. “You know that’s only legend right? City of Viva ain’t real.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve seen your place, the temperature’s only going to get colder in the next few months and I have stuff I can get you to make life more comfortable.” The vagrant stopped smiling. “For real?” she asked. I nodded. “I’ve got to tell you, no one’s been to the City of Viva before. There’s no real information.” she replied, stroking her braids thoughtfully. She suddenly stopped. “What’s your offer?” I leaned back. “You collect as much useful information as possible about the city of Viva. I will return in a week and if I’m satisfied with your amount of information, I’ll give you something to make your shared area more… homely. Not only will it benefit you but the other vagrants.” The vagrant stared at me, weighing her options. “I can’t be sure you will keep your end of the bargain, so the deal is off. What if you collect the information and disappear?” I smiled - already thought that through. “Ah, you are right but look,” I gestured around the room and continued on “I’m a townsfolk living a comfortable life with a stable job, necessities and all the frivolous objects my heart could desire. What are you? A vagrant-” The vagrant stopped me short. “We prefer the word Wanderer if you don’t mind” she said rather harshly. I cleared my throat. “Right,” I continued. “A wanderer living in a shack with other… wanderers - about to face the colder months. Face it; I’m doing you a favour. All you have to do is find out information, easily accessible may I remind you and in return you get something that you need or at least want.” The vagrant chewed her bottom lip – obviously she didn’t like being told what to do. “What exactly do I get?” she finally asked suspiciously. “What do you want?” I asked back. The vagrant looked around the relatively bare, dimly lit room. Another vagrant, a skinny lady with long dark brown hair that reached her waist shouted back from the ‘kitchen’ where she was knitting. “Something new to use for cooking might be nice.” I turned back to the vagrant in front of me, still scanning the room. “Matches,” she decided “And a new blanket, and some candles; so hard to find candles and matches these days.” I nodded. Easy enough for me to find.  My parents had practically all of this but I didn’t mention that. “I’ll see what I can get.” I said as I got up from the cold floor and walked out.