Walking Dollar Bills

Chapter 6: Exchange Rate

A windmill appears frozen in time as its blades burn in the sweltering Mao country heat. Amara wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

"I don't know how Zala manages with a full head of hair. All of mine is shaved off, and I still feel like my head is on fire" says Amara.

Earl, who carries Zala on his back, points to a splintered wooden sign with dried red paint that reads: "Welcome to Town." Part of the "W" and nearly all of the "Town" is peeled off.

"Finally," says Amara with a smile. She looks towards Earl,

"There has to be a pharmacy there" she continues. As the two approach town, Zala awakens from her nap. She rubs her wide eyes and releases a massive yawn before wrapping her arms around Earl's neck.

"Are we out of the cave yet?" Zala sleepily asks.

"See for yourself," says Earl.

Zala scans her surroundings. A handful of dilapidated shacks function as the town's primary source of housing. The ground beneath their feet burns as a result of the arid climate. Even more, a number of charred shacks mix in with the slipshod shacks.

"This place must have seen better days," says Earl.

Moving into the town center, they catch a glimpse of a 1 acre field. Twenty people, all elderly, toil in the oppressive heat. Some carve out several horizontal rows in the ground, while others water dead plants. In fact, all of the plants in the field wear a dusty yellow coloring with brittle leaves.

"Wow! A colony, just like at home" says Zala as she hops off of Earls back and rushes towards the field.

"Zala, hold on," says Amara, but she carries on defiantly.

"Zala might be of some use to these folks. Then again, I'm not sure if the world's greenest thumb could grow anything on this land" says Earl kicking the dirty.

"Remember. We have less than 24 hours to find another supply of the queen's nectar. There isn't time for sight seeing" says Amara.

An elderly man in a straw hat carries a pail of water. He squints his eyes as Zala runs towards him.

"Hey, Grandpa!" she shouts. The elderly man squints hard at Zala.

"Huh?" he replies. Zala takes the pail from his hand and begins to splash water over the plants. Amara and Earl finally catch up to her.

"Sorry about that. She's a member of the Hornet race, so she can't help herself when she sees people farming" says Amara.

"My, my, my" says a frail older woman emerging from the shack. "We haven't seen such young and chipper folks in years!"

"Muriel, don't you get started" says the man.

"Oh hush, Winston. You don't have to hold a grudge against all young people" replies Muriel.

"Why not?! They're all alike. They cry and act so needy for the first few years of their lives, and then run off when we get old and need them!" says Winston.

"Excuse me, Grandpa. Where do you keep all of your garbage?" asks Zala

"Whatcha need to know that for?" pouts Winston.

Zala points to the plot of land she recently watered.

"The ground is pretty barren, but it's workable. With your garbage I could make some organic compost and spread it around to fertilize the land a bit. In a month or two, the land should be rich with nutrients. Or I could dig up some earthworms. Either way will work" she says.