Short Stories

Thieving for Oranges (2020)

Never in my life had I imagined myself stealing from a King. I never even imagined myself coming close to the capitol, yet here I am standing outside the palace gates as a lookout. Overhead great gum nut trees sway their thin, sinewy branches, wafting leaves about like fans. And although this may be the home of royalty it doesn't escape the searing heat of Ashuke; beneath the shirt my back itches with the start of sweat, my breaths already quickening from nervousness.

Pulling aside the makeshift curtains Theo leaps out from the back of the wagon. His blond hair has been swept back with gel drowning out its radiant curls. He puffs his chest out, running assuring hands down the front of his coat, patting down all the hidden knives I know he's hiding.

"What'd you think, Sylvie?" he asks. My first instinct is to scan for any faults and attack any weaknesses that might be discovered by guards. If he's caught then that would be my fault. I chew my lip and stare hard before answering.

"I can see a hilt poking out beneath your breeches and it's obvious that you have a gun hidden by your thigh." I say without hesitancy. The young man beams.

"Excellent," he says, stripping away the futile weaponry. "Can't have us being caught now can we?" He means himself, I've never physically followed him through his scamming escapades but I nod anyways. Theo tells me that it's for my own good so that I don't end up infecting anyone else.

"Afterwards can I have an orange?" Even in the richer provinces a single fruit seems to cost you a small fortune. But today I have my fingers crossed. Because today is the mark of my nineteenth harvest. My senses sing with the sweet memory of that delightful tanginess.

"We might even be able to afford a whole basket full if we're lucky." Theo says but his eyes don't meet mine. Instead he gazes straight ahead at the marble palace. By now he's completely swallowed up in awe. Still he turns to me and taking my face in his palm says, "You'll get your fruit, I promise. Now stay here and keep a lookout while I'm gone." He kisses my temple and runs off, his coat flying not far behind him, disappearing over the iron gates.

~ ~ ~

An hour has passed and there's still no sign of him returning. I've taken to leaning against the wagon to take some pressure off my legs, fiddling with the end of my plait. It doesn't stop my gut from churning a storm of anxiety inside me. What if he got caught?

For as long as I've been standing here, no one has gone outside. The palace gardens remain preserved in silence. Only the trees seem able to speak but they whisper in tongues that are too soft for my ears to understand.

"Where the hell are you?" I mumble. Pressing myself up against the gate I scan the fortress-like castle. Every square inch of it roars with brutality, from the thorn bushes to the spikes displayed under all the windows. It's as beautiful as a poisoned rose. Please, gods, please don't get caught.

All my fears seem to be answered when a scream escapes from inside. Rattling my lungs and heart into a state of panic. I have to help him. I know I'm supposed to remain on guard here but what if it was him who screamed just then? Wouldn't it be better to know, just in case?

Using the wagon as a step I push myself up into the nearest tree. Scrambling through the cluster of branches and leaves scratching at my face. Cursing as a snapped twig lashes across my cheek. I pray that this tree doesn't snap beneath my weight. It doesn't.

I hoist myself onto the base of a branch (One that is as thick as the back of a bull) and lock my legs around the sides. I can use this branch to climb over the gate whilst avoiding the nearby thorns. up its small slope slowly Shimmying over them, I haul my legs over the side, exasperating one last prayer before pushing off.