The Fool's Mate

The Fool’s Mate

Can you keep a secret? I’m not meant to be here. Officially I’m on holiday but I’m actually living here. What is the first thing you do on holiday? Relax at a hotel? Find something to eat?

I had a panic attack.

I broke so many rules when I refused to go back home, but life there was getting complicated. This was a new start: chapter one, page one. I just need to be careful. I have to be very cautious when I speak; one wrong word at the wrong time to the wrong person and I could do some serious damage.

I stare at the Sun and think about my new life. It started against outside Maria’s house as I sat against a wall struggling to breathe. I’d always been anxious in low-stake situations like the ordering setup at Subway – oh I miss that place, and Pizza Hut! Anyway, when things are unexpected, they can be very daunting and this was more serious than ordering food. I hugged my knees and shallow breaths forced their way out of my lungs, stealing my ability to calm down. You try to focus on your breathing and you end up worrying about your breathing, then the panic increases.

Then she came out, her long black hair kept away under a white headpiece, her fringe sticking out. Her caramel eyes spelled worry and concern when she set them on me. She knelt down and placed her soft hands on mine and as I looked at her I was distracted from my thoughts for she was beautiful. She still is beautiful as the year has been kind to her, my wife.

How fairy tale, don’t you think? The first person I met in my new life was my soon-to-be wife. We do everything together, we grow our crops together, look after the animals together, and we even got matching tattoos – we did them ourselves with needles and gunpowder. The tattoo is half of the Sun; I have the right while she has the left. We swore to always watch over each other and the Sun is a symbol of that as it watches over everything, irrespective of gender, race, country, or time. The Sun has watched over the dinosaurs, the seven World Wars, and the separation of Pangea.

My mind moves from my wife to my best friend. His name is Francis and I am worried about him. He should be here in a matter of minutes. Although he’s old-fashioned, we share an interest in sports and games. We argue about our favourite tennis players and crack jokes about the decision-makers of the world. He can be quite sexist but I’ve come across a lot of that in this new life – sadly it is the norm and I have to hold my tongue. We used to meet every other day but since last month he disappeared. With no phone or internet, I couldn’t reach out to him so I had to rely on the word of mouth between mutual friends.

I order two drinks while I wait for him. Two double whiskies, our usual. He got me into drinking, I had never touched the stuff before. I soon found that it was a method to numb my worries initially, but when I grew comfortable here, I decided to continue to drink – not to escape my worries but to enjoy the drink itself. Despite paying, the barman holds his hands out and shakes the change I gave him; I didn’t have enough money, damn!

That is one thing I haven’t got used to, no debit cards or smart pay. Just cash.

“Penny for the guy!”

I turn to my right and he’s arrived! We embrace each other and crack a few jokes and make the usual small-talk about our work, families, and immediate lives before the conversation gets more serious.

“I’m sorry I have been rather distant, but I work beyond my given hours now. The Lord has chosen me to help guide the world to the right path! I’m part of a group who are setting to protest against the decisions made by the government and the throne.”

There was a fuel, a passion that I only witnessed when we would talk of sport, however this was different. The fire in his eyes was so intense I felt slightly uneasy. His heart is in the right place, but I don’t think this new group of people are good for him, whatever they plan or plot.

“You know my stance on God, Francis, so we’ll have to agree to disagree there. A wise woman once said ‘…Self-righteousness is not religion…’ and I firmly stand behind this – just because you are from a religion it doesn’t mean you are perfect.”

“Oh, I agree, the powers that be are forcing their beliefs on all of us: The King and parliament are enforcing barbaric rules – they speak of banning the theatre, apparently that is against God…

How interesting that a woman can come up with such wise words!”

Banning theatres? Wow, that’s crazy. Imagine if they knew about cinemas and television! I find myself saying this out loud, but I cut myself off when I reach cinemas.

I hold my tongue before I argue against his sexist remark – everyone here is guilty of it and it’s something I had to accept.

“Sin-Em-Ares? You say the strangest of things sometimes. But it boils my blood to think they can ban whatever they wish with very little concern for their people. We may not share their beliefs and that is not a problem, but their beliefs should not be made law. It is simply unfair on all who do not share their belief.”

He had a point. I don’t think that religion should be forced down the throats of a nation, or even a family. That is one problem my home didn’t have; we were way beyond the prejudices of belief – but we were about to enter our eighth World War, the reason I left. That’s why I accidentally said:

“Where I’m from, they’d blow them up…”

I said it like a joke, but his reaction seemed like he took it seriously.

“But some of my friends are in parliament…Unless I tell them beforehand…”

That’s when I realised, his name is Francis Tresham…

His friends liked that plan, of blowing parliament up…

It’s almost November the 5^th…

A week prior to November, Francis cemented the meaning of the phrase ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’ by writing a letter to William Parker, a man in parliament. That’s when he started the death and manhunt of himself and that group of his.

I suppose I should tell you that where I’m from isn’t a different country. I’m from the year 6501, and I think I accidentally initiated the Gunpowder Plot…