Chapter 1
Thousands of women marched in long lines to the factory in insipid dresses with depleted hats. They were so many that it almost felt unholy. I almost mistook them for the army, but in many ways they were. Their fight was against an economy downturn.
The priests termed this “the end of the world” and wanted people like me to repent. They became this way whenever change happened too abruptly. War made people panic; it made them grip onto their misbeliefs more. Maybe foretelling Christ’s return could restore peace. Until then, much more innocent blood would pour, and the guilty will live on.
War reminded me of the transient nature of living. Luckily, I had buried my parents before the war. My father will not get trampled on in the battlefield, nor must I worry that his dismantled body might not return to me.
The women marching to their new employment probably thought a lot about their sons’, husbands’, or fathers’ deaths. Although, I couldn’t tell if they were all that concerned since their broad shoulders looked laid back. They seemed to have accepted that eventually their loved ones will die.
I should be marching down with them, but I couldn’t trust that my boss will pay or that the working conditions will be satisfactory. I developed trust issues ever since my boyfriend (now ex) disappeared one day. So being someone’s employee was not an option. I made my own fortune. This was the rich class’s attitude.
They specifically were self-dependent. It was better that way. It was why they could laugh about the boys on the frontline, serving their country and let their children chase each other with water guns. They laughed at the loss of other parents and how a sixteen-year-old was deemed to never see the rest of his life play out. I was fine with it as long as they kept investing into Preis and participating in their little political games.
Their money mattered to Preis economy. Apart from the Priest thinking the world was ending, the finance men forecasted Preis having their first financial crisis sooner, maybe before the world ended. Everyone ignored that though because it was the new season. Cucumbers, tomatoes, peppers, squash, sorrels, beans, greens and berries were ripe, and girls in bikinis were licking ice cream and hitting the beach. The men drafted off to war would miss this. They would have spent more money in the market, driven solely by their desire to impress any female specie.
“Annie, have you prayed yet?”
I hummed as I brought my head back in. Praying could only make me feel better in the short run. Tomorrow, I would wake up to the war still, to my deprived life still, and still to my lower societal status. There were no such things as miracles. Even my father knew that.
Saji huffed.
I didn’t ask her to help me harvest those cucumbers, tomatoes, and beans that were ripe. She came to help by herself. I wanted to believe it was because of her generous heart, and not because she wanted to remind me of what might happen if I didn’t bring enough money for her wedding gown.
After loading them onto the wagon, I took stock count. I had heard through the gossip in the market that beans would be in demand soon. It would hopefully help pool in enough funds for this wedding dress.
Saji waved from the door.
I drove Bercy hard to the market square.
Screaming kids who would otherwise be seen shooting their water guns at each other had deserted the roads. Parents must have realised the seriousness of the situation, that the water guns mocked what reality now played out. If it had been snowing, all kids would have been prohibited from throwing snowballs at each other.
The houses I used to pass which had once stood open days before the war, now, all had their doors closed. It felt more closed and unwelcoming.
The town square had yet to fill up. I saw heads bopping amongst a seamlessly buzzing small crowd, none of whom I recognized. They carried a little hum with them, loud, uncaring, and obnoxious.
I hurried to my usual tent before Vario had the chance to steal it from me. Behind it, the band of marching women made their way into a factory whose chimney already unleashed toxicants into the air.
Two ladies screamed to my right as they fought over a table with a game of rock, paper, and scissors. One of them didn’t want the poor-quality table at the end. Although, they could have avoided a battle with a little bit of tardiness on their part. If I even forgot to set my alarm in the morning, then I could forget about the market. Where I decided to sell mattered for the quantity I could sell and the price at which I could charge. Customers, generally, tolerated higher prices for better quality tables and tents than ones that were slowly deteriorating.
Focusing on my stall, I organized my table so that the beans took centre stage.
Mariah, dark-skinned with eyes like Leopards’, settled on the table left of mine. After some silence, she scrutinized me. “You haven’t heard, have you?”
Her eyes became so catlike, so majestic. They could easily draw males in. I, on the other hand, had nothing as impressive. I recoiled at my own reflection in the mirror more times than I could count.
“So, you’ve heard?”
I shook my head.
“The government plans to pay families who’ve sent their sons or husbands to war. It is to support them.”
I scoffed. I had predicted the government would execute something of this sort. He was not just some rich nobody on top controlling everyone else. The rich folks would finally contribute to society. The government was just too predictable.
I increased the price of tomatoes but left the beans as it was. After all, gossip was so-called for a reason.
I swept the area around my table. Last time I had missed out on a customer. To think that it was because of how messy my place had been almost made me mad. I would do everything in my power to avoid losing customers unnecessarily over things I can fix. I just needed a bit more for Saji’s wedding gown.
Mariah continued staring at me.
“What is the matter with you now?”
“Do you have any idea on how he plans to fund this scheme?” Mariah batted her eyelids a couple of times.
“The rich of course.” I crossed my arms. It was simple. Mariah couldn’t possibly think that I was stupid.
She shook her head. “Us.”
I squinted at her as I tried to gauge if she was lying. It was my worst facial expressions to which mother often compared me to an ogre. When Mariah didn’t speak, I realised she was honest. “But…why?”
Mariah shrugged. “He just wants to tax more.”
Of course, She never wanted to find out more than she required. The government served the higher powers. He always had and always will. I didn’t know why I thought he overpowered anyone higher than him. “I’d like to see him give it a go. I can fight if I must. I’m not afraid. I’ll get my brother-in-law on his case.”
Mariah cackled, covering her mouth as she did. “Oh, my goodness. You couldn’t even bat a fly. You are only one person. You’ll disappear without a trace.”
I got shills from what Mariah said. I pictured it: my body discarded in the bin; each limp scattered in the pile of mess. It resonated with the many threats I have received on behalf of Saji from other non-relatives of ours (more so neighbours).
Then again, I knew of one man who had disappeared without a trace but wasn’t dead. Maybe, I too might disappear someplace more accepting… Either way, I wouldn’t back out without a fight. I crossed my arms and spread apart my feet. “They should try me. I am strong as a tree.”
When She still hadn’t brought my façade, I aborted it all. “It’ll be in his best interest to remember that we are just farmers. We are already poor as it is. The only wealth we have to offer is food.”
Mariah sighed as she slumped into her seat. “Tell me about it. I have yet to pay my taxes. Three months’ worth of outstanding debt,” she whispered as she leaned towards me and then collapsed back into her seat.
I returned my broom before distracting myself with pen and paper, jolting down nonsensical things. I didn’t want to ever discuss taxes with anyone, even if it was Mariah, one of my buddies. I kept a pile of them under my bed, and they were probably moulding away at this point. I had to be alert whenever I crossed the streets in case a police officer was tracking me down. I put down my paper and pen. It couldn’t distract me or stop my hands from trembling. Fearful that my being so silent might make her suspect that I was keeping something from her, I smiled and held her gaze. “Better pay them now, my blossoms. They don’t treat us ladies in the cellular as well as they used to. Did they send you a warning already?”
Mariah flapped her paper fan as she eyed Eve. “I wish I too was marrying rich. It would solve most of my problems.”
Being rich did cushion against all sorts of risk. Having an abundance of gold coins would have guaranteed me a higher status even with my half-damaged face, contrary to my father’s belief. I glanced at Eve and then scoffed. “I promise you. You are so much prettier. I haven’t the patience today for your low self-esteem.”
Mariah frowned. “I just don’t understand. I’ve been praying and waiting. Why not me?”
“Then just pray harder, and maybe put yourself out there just a little bit more, you know?
Mariah raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
I knew of how religious Preis was, that if I said something contradictory to her beliefs, she might beat me. I had to endure two beatings from my mom before realising that I should never question religion. It was Preis's soft spot, and Mariah's too. If God was so great and mighty, he would find for her a male who would magically knock on her door and ask for her hand in marriage. It was delusional. Given the state of things, the war and all, it was nearly impossible. Preis didn’t have men in abundance like before. “I mean, you can’t get anything in life if you don’t put yourself in a situation in which it is likely to manifest.”
She scowled. "Asking should be enough. I have no patience for those balls. They are probably just all a bunch of cheating man."
The ball had always amazed Mariah. Maybe, it ceased to have as much of an effect as it did when we were youngsters, but it couldn’t just have no effect so suddenly. I tried not to maul over her words too much. “You could try attending and praying is all I’m saying.”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe, I just don't care for stuff like that like I used to."
“Then let’s not waste any more time with these foolish talks ever again." I returned to my stall. It was how Mariah could just brush away the conversation that made me sometimes want to choke the life out of her. Her bipolar behaviour always led to time wastage, and more self-esteem issues.
"You speak only of me. What about you, hah?"
I shrugged and then smirked at her. "What about me? I have decided to dedicate my life to the universe. I only respond to it."
She frowned. "Gillard fish would have been sad to hear that."
The past couldn’t stay within its realm. It always had to sprout back up. This time it threatened to take away my self-control. Gillard was long gone, never to return. He had made it very clear over all those years I had spent waiting for him. I had forgotten about him. I really had. Maybe Mariah had brought it up to spite me since I had failed to validate and comfort her as she had wanted upon seeing Eve.
I picked at the skin around my nails, a habit I did often to cool down.
I could feel her staring at me. There was nothing else for her to say that could remove the added layer of discomfort between us. “Get ready, Blossoms. Here they come.”
She instantly stopped flapping her fan and stood up.
