Down In the Surrounds

In the Spring, the alagos flew in droves, far from the still ponds they were born in. When they gathered like that, the hum of their wings could be heard for miles.

Just after dawn, when the air was still cold and wet, they set out to play and feed.  I watched them as they descended on the field, just beyond the great river mills and sleeping volcanos, fluttering aimlessly amongst themselves, deciding on where to go next, maybe.

They were said to be good luck. When I was just ten, I had the rare pleasure of having one land on me. It rested on my forearm as I sat under a Shelby tree. It buzzed around for a few seconds before settling down on the back of my hand. The longer it stayed with me, the luckier I’d be.

Up so close, I was able to see it in great detail. It was hideous, it’s diamond shaped eyes bulging at the top of its head, it’s many spindly legs full of hairy spikes and I was suddenly afraid of it. I swatted it, wincing from the sting of its sharp legs underneath my palm. It tumbled to the ground dazed and a little broken. I felt horrible about it, but justified. No insect should be that large. 

A group of them broke away from the pack, weaving in and out of the fully bloomed electric blue hollies we had yet to harvest for its medicinal and other recreational uses.

“Aaaa-paaaa-ren-tent-lie.” Yumi’s tiny voice called me back to her. She was hunched over the book she chose for the day’s lesson, her intricately beaded braids draping across her rounded caramel cheeks. “Aaapaaarent-lie. Aaa-parent. Apparently?” she said, looking up at me with eyes so wide, I couldn’t help but match them. 

“You got it,” I said, using my thumb to trace a path up the middle of my chest, the Surroundan way to say, I am proud of you.

She smiled hard, all teeth, eyes disappearing to slits.

“Do you think one day I could be a teacher like you Riyah?”

“Of course. You can be anything you want as long as you believe in yourself and go for what you want, not matter what.”

She nodded and for a moment, I think she believed me. We followed the alagos as they moved east toward the town center. The sun was fully awake now, warming our faces with its early light.

“My mom says Singles are whores and are the ruin of good society,” she said.

I blinked more times than necessary. This wasn’t the first time a student shared these thoughts with me, words gleaned from unfiltered adult conversations at home and around the gossip holes around town. 

In the past I’d explain at length how things weren’t so simple, drone on about the historical and societal constructs that were responsible for the very circumstances these women-women like me, were being persecuted for. In the end I would be met with blank stares and more questions than I had time to answer.

Here, in Alta, married women indeed lived a more comfortable life, even if that meant sharing a man. Without the right to work or ability to make a living, we were at the mercy of men. Still, this wasn’t the worst of our troubles as a republic. It was the indoctrination, the Altan controlled and propagated belief that single women were dangerous for society. 

“Well,” I started, “it’s true, a lot of Singles are forced to-”

“Youmi.” 

Her mother, Mrs. Adello called from the distance. She bobbed down the path toward us in such an unexpected speed, I didn’t have time to put the book away. Youmi shot up from the stoop where she sat next to me letting the book slide off of her lap. It hit the floor, kicking up a bit of the dark earth on impact.

Approaching fast, her mother fixed her eyes on me, arms swinging wildly back and forth, her oversized chest leading the charge as they bounced against each other unsupported.

We braced for impact, I sat erect, a labored sigh from Lacy. 

“I’m in trouble now.” 

Mrs. Adello moved in on her without slowing her step nearly knocking her daughter over. She grabbed her by both arms.

“What did I tell you about coming here?” The question wasn’t meant to be answered. “Ms. Riyah,” she shot in my direction, “if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it too many times, stop teaching Youmi here about this reading nonsense. What good will it do her?”

“Plenty.” I picked up the book and dusted it off as I got to my feet. “A woman that can read is a woman that is free.”

“Free to do what? To live as a Single? Who would want that for their daughter?

“I choose to be single, Mrs. Adello.”

“Is that so? From what I can tell, you have no suitors knocking down your door.”

I pursed my lips and forced a smile, a futile attempt at restraint. She knew the opposite was true of course. Since my sixteenth birthday, every man in town, wedded and unwedded, old to barely men, from rich to damn near destitute, had been at my father’s doorstep asking for a chance at courtship. I was a lawyer’s daughter with her mother’s dark and delicate Altan features, a prize to be won and regarded or discarded as property once procured.

After several attempts, most of them eventually moved on. Only a few still held out hope and continued to come around with foolish hope, to see if I had finally come around to my good senses.

“Mrs. Adello, I only wish to give your daughter options-”

“You only wish to ruin her,” she quipped. “Your influence is not welcomed. A girl of your age should already be wed and-”

“-Not every girl’s dream is to be wife number three to a drunken, brute who despite all his choices at home still cannot seem to keep his prick away from all the free range hens down at the Inn.”

She held her chest as if I had just driven a stake through it. I regretted my words only for Youmi’s sake. Mrs. Adello looked past me towards someone looming in the doorway, my father I assumed, a salient presence, imposing, the very thing about him people found suitable for leadership. 

“Master Brandl,” she huffed, “I hope you realize the disservice you’ve done this girl. She thinks she is far more important than she really is.”

I blocked her view so she was forced to speak to me. 

“Maybe I’m not important, but I think Youmi is,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile, “for the future of the Surrounds and Alta as a whole.” I lowered myself to meet her at eye level. “Remember all those strong women we’ve read about living and doing incredible things all over the world? That can be you.”

“Why don’t you go on then? Go, be free and leave our daughters alone.”

“I would love to, except here, is where I am needed.”

She closed her eyes and took in a composing breath. “I’m warning you girl. If I catch you confusing my daughter with this nonsense again, I will have to report you.”

“Report me? Teaching a girl to read is no longer against the law. And really,” I implored, “don’t you want more for Youmi?”

She shot an accusatory glance in my father’s direction. “You live a privileged life young lady. If your parents weren’t who they were I suppose you wouldn’t have the luxury to laze around all day, reading fantasies and causing trouble. Your kind will be the undoing of Alta.”

“Perhaps if you knew how to read, you wouldn’t believe all the lies you hear.”

She stiffened, raised her hand already formed in the shape of the letter ‘B’ and hit her chin with her index finger so hard it left a pink mark. Lacy reacted to the gesture with a comical jaw drop.

I stifled laughter and turned toward my father who was peeling a shelby fruit. “Did you see that father? Mrs. Adello called me a bitch.”

“Come little girl,” she said, practically dragging Youmi down the path. “If I ever catch you over here again, it’s off to your Aunt Netty. She’ll straighten you out in no time.”

“Bye Youmi!” I shouted after her. She turned halfway, giving me a small wave. “I’ll see you around.”

Nothing.

We watched them disappear around the curve, off to her official schooling where should was to learn all of the fundamental wifely duties, cooking, baking, cleaning, laundering, hosting and eventually, in her last year of study, the most important skill for keeping your station as a wife, the fundamentals of male pleasure.

I picked up the book and flipped it open to mark the last page she read, just in case she found the courage to sneak up this way again for another lesson.

“Don’t let that get you down,” my father said. “It’s just fear.”

“It’s ridiculous.” 

He handed me half of the fruit, his hand covered in it’s blue juice. “Thank you.” I bit into it and found it sweeter than I liked it-too ripe. At this stage they were best for baking.

“You made a difference with her.”

“You think?”

“Of course. You can see it in her eyes. And all the other girls you’re helping. Just keep at it.”

His words were encouraging, but I saw a different truth. My efforts were no more affecting than a pebble thrown into the Dolan Sea. No rippling effect, instead swallowed wholly into the overwhelming waves, sinking aimlessly into the abyss.

Youmi wasn’t the only little girl I was teaching to read, but she was the only one that showed a real dedicated interest. True, our time together wouldn’t have been a total waste. In just three weeks, she learned the alphabet, could write her name and was already able to read First Books on her own. She reminded me a bit of myself. I hoped she’d find a way to keep at it, even if that meant a different path in life.

"Come. Your mother's made your favorite. Pimtail stew."

"That's not my favorite."

"Pretend that it is."