Without Bridges

The sounds of feasting echo through the walls. The joy that comes at this time of year. The Harvest. All agree that it’s a perfect time to celebrate our past toils. Our town is far from struggle. I can hear the cries of gratitude, but I do not partake in it.

In my opinion, one should not celebrate the spilled blood of one's neighbors. We have been raised to see the glory in the actions of our ancestors, but when you grow up distanced, it’s much easier to see the faults of the greater image. 

I shan’t speak these thoughts aloud. I would be regarded as ungrateful for the gifts we have been rewarded with, but what these people cannot understand, is that I have never been ungrateful a day in my life. The idea is as inconceivable as it would be for someone to disregard the Harvest. 

After what I’ve seen, I look upon what we have as beautiful.

“Sarah,” a soft voice calls from the front of the house. Today, I wish to ignore the voices calling me to join them, but this voice is  too important to ignore. “Please come. Mama says the neighbors are whispering again.”

“They may say what they will about me, Tinny. I shan’t join them.” I say, knowing, without a glance at her face, that I’m disappointing her. 

“Mais-but we must go. Some still view us as the enemy.”

“We can’t help where we come from. They should be able to understand that.” I say, placing my book on the arm of the chair and standing up. I see Tinny peeking around the corner of the room. 

“It was easier with Father here,” she whispers, and she draws herself out of my view. My heart swells with sadness that should have long ago expired. I walk around the corner, and see her seated with her back against the wall. She’s staring out the door, his face drifting between past and present. I kneel down in front of her.

“Tinny,” I know she’s too young to remember the days of travel. The days before our journey here. However, I remember the fear, the sadness, the tortured looks on our friends faces. I know Father was worried about raising two children in that place. I used to listen to him and Mama talking before Tinny was born. They were worried she would die. Then one day Father came home, leaping through the door. He was nearly crying, said he had contacted Grandfather. We all knew what that meant. We were free, Tinny would survive, but we would have to leave our home. “It’s difficult for me to celebrate this day.”

“Come on, Sarah. Mama’s worried for you. She’s afraid the neighbors will reject you.” That, I know, would be a disgrace to Mama. 

“Okay, Tinny.” I sigh.  “Tell Mama I’m coming.” Her face lights up, making it easy to see that she too, has been raised in the dark. 

The main building is not quite large enough to hold all the civilians. People have spilled from the door, and are seated at benches on the front lawn. I keep my head down as I walk by them. Some recognize me, calling my name. I nod to anyone who says something to me, but I try to remain otherwise inconspicuous. 

“Sarah!” Tinny calls, as I walk through the door. No doubt she had been watching for me. She grabs my hand, and leads me to the seat she has saved for me, next to Mama. “Administrator Toghelm is about to begin his speech.”

My eyes search the room, and find our leader standing at a lecturn. His face is lit up in a smile, and he clears his throat, summoning the crowd’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he begins, his voice carrying through the room, and, I’m sure, reaching the ears of those seated outside. “It is my honor, as Administrator, to host the Harvest this year. Naturally, we thank our former leaders for their duty to fill our land with resources and peace.”

What he doesn’t say, is they left the rest of the world in ruins for this small victory.

“We now may eat, fill our stomach with the gifts given by our past labours. Keep in mind the evil we have warded in order to protect ourselves, and keep the peace in this town.”

My whole body seems to fill with a delicate fire, near about to erupt. I close my eyes, pushing the thoughts away from my minds forefront. Do not cause your family shame. It is all I must remember, the reason I’m here in the first place.

“Happy Harvest, people of Ploutos!” Administrator Toghelm says, raising his glass. The cheers that would follow, never do, for I do something completely unexpected, even to myself. I stand up.

“May I say something?” I ask, though no matter the answer, I shall continue.

“Be my guest,” he says, motioning for me to stand next to him. I stand firmly where I am.

“Many of you know I was raised in Outer, before my father gained permission to return to his childhood home.”

“Sarah, what-” Tinny begins, but I silence her with a wave of my hand.

“Life here is brilliant. We have everything anyone could ever want. But I know what it’s like out there. The world is destroyed. Only our town remains strong, as far as I am aware of. Our ancestors left their neighbors, the people of Outer, to fend against famine, while they hid within these barriers. If you wonder why I do not come to the Harvest, it is because of this fact.

“No one speaks up, because we’ve grown up in the dark,” I feel Tinny grab my arm, but I pay her no heed. “But I remember what it is like out there. There are people who need us, but we let them suffer on the false fact that they are the enemy.”

I turn away from the crowd, of which many are staring at me as if I had left the world to slowly rot away. No one speaks, the silence holding all life captive. 

“How could you, you ungrateful child?” the Administrator says, walking forward. I shake my head.

“I have grown from a child, long ago.”

I turn, walking from the room. It’s similar to walking through a museum, for all the effort anyone does to stop me. It appears I’ve shocked everyone. The prospect of anyone saying what I have, is regarded as barbaric, and who could possibly be barbaric in this perfect place?

I walk out of the building, and continue towards home. I hear the Administrator following, but I do not turn. 

“Miss,” The voice I hear is not as I expected it to be. It’s warmer than Toghelm’s, more youthful. I turn my head, despite myself. A young man is standing there, his arm outstretched. He looks to be about my age. “Miss, may I speak to you?”

The boy, who has further told me his name is Tomas, tries to convince me that he agrees with all that I had said.

“Were you born here?” I am unable to hold the question back. I’ve never known anyone who’s been unhappy with the ways of this town, except for myself. 

“Yes, however, my grandfather was born in Outer. My grandmother left Ploutos, and married him. They gained access through my grandmother’s past residence here. My grandfather passed down the stories of famine and war. I never agreed with what we kept from those people.” I feel my mouth stretch out in a smile. I’m not the only one who sees the injustice. 

“How come you never spoke up about it?” I ask.

“I was cowardly. I had always thought it would throw a path of hardship for my family and I. I admire what you said today. It was truly lovely.” He pauses. “Miss…”

“Sarah. Please, call me Sarah.” I say, causing myself a slight amount of surprise. Asking a boy to refer to you by your first name, after you’ve just met; it’s not common. Especially not for me. His face brightens in a smile. I notice he has a few soft freckles spread around his brown eyes. 

“Do you suppose there’s something we could do? To help those from Outer?” he asks.

“I’m uncertain. The world is so large, and we are only two people. Even if the whole town helped, I doubt we could make much of a difference.” My heart sinks. The words I’m speaking have been my secret fear, ever since I arrived fifteen years ago. While this town may have everything, we may be too late to share it.

We stand, silently. The whole town seems to have fallen quiet. No noise comes from the main building, which must be the first time in the history of the Harvest. I attempt to create a plan, a way to help those poor people. 

I’ve been thinking about this for years. It’s always been on my mind. I have envisioned myself on countless expeditions in pursuit of this justice. Yet now, when I have an opportunity to make a difference, when the rest of the world has stopped for me to speak, I can think of nothing to do. Until I hear a small sound come from Tomas’ throat. A sound of surprise. 

“I have an idea.” he says, his voice rising in anticipation. I smile. “How do you feel about leaving?” 

I feel my body stop. My brain whirs. Leave. To me, that feels like the opposite of helping. We’d be in the same position as the people out there. How can we give them anything, If we have nothing ourselves?

“What?” I suppose it is considered disrespectful to say such a thing so abruptly, but I have already been classified as barbaric, so I feel I am passed judgement. Or, at least, I care not what people think.

“If we can bring back something to show them…” His voice trails off into silence, but my heart begins to beat harder. 

“If we could show them what it is really like out there, they may begin to understand. If we could then share our supplies, maybe we could at least help some of them.”

“Fix it little by little.” he finishes for me. I smile at him. 

The most difficult part of all of this, was explaining to Tinny and Mama what I was doing. Mama seemed none too keen on allowing me to go to Outer, and with a boy, nonetheless. However, Mama at least knows what it’s like out there. She knows how those people need our help, for she used to be one of them. 

“I’m going avec-with you.” she said, determined that she could handle the sights out there. “I can do it, Sarah.”

“I’m sorry Tinny. I can’t risk you getting hurt.” At this, she began to cry. I had wiped the tears from her cheeks, and she sat with me, while Mama stoked the fire. She fell asleep with her head on my shoulder.

“It’s okay, little Tinny. I’m going to make this world a small amount better, then I’ll be back.” I say, to her sleeping form. “Before you know it.” 

I then stood up, kissed her forehead and Mama’s, and headed for the door. I had kept my tears back until the door closed behind me. Then I let myself cry for a moment. A task more difficult than restoring the world to unity is leaving your own family behind in the process. Never have I realized how much I need them. 

Though the world needs me now.

Tomas walks beside me. It’s awfully strange to have a stranger standing with me, but I am grateful for it. 

Night has fallen, dark and seemingly heavy. We are to cross the border into Outer. The Administrator allows people to leave freely, however, most are kept here by the prospect that life could not be better. That is why no one understands what it is like out there. No one ever leaves. 

And no one is allowed to enter, unless they have previously lived here, and even then, if you are gone for too long, you are considered to have joined forces with the enemy.

We approach the border, and see a small man sitting there. I remember someone sitting in that exact chair when I arrived with my family. It wasn’t the same man, of course, but he looks just as surprised to see me as when I first got here. It seems border patrol is not all too exciting.

“We’d like to cross.” The man gives me a strange look, but waves me across. 

“Go ahead. Just sign your names here, please.” he says, his voice sounding tired. I grab the piece of paper he’s holding out to me, and the pen, and sign my name, and Tomas’. 

We walk forward, away from the close protection of simplicity, and into a land that is forsaken.

We’ve walked for hours, and have finally found a small group of people. I approach them, and they look at me, their eyes full of fear. My heart breaks. The terror these people face, it’s truly the saddest thing. 

One of the members of the group walks up to me. A woman, who’s hair is ragged, like it hasn’t been brushed in weeks. She’s thinner than I’ve ever seen a person be. I can see the outline of her bones through her skin. 

“Bonjour.” she says, and my heart stops for a moment. These are my people. They speak my language. This could have been me. I smile at her, and I begin to speak in my native tongue. 

“We would like to help you.” Although I’m sure Tomas doesn’t understand what I’m saying, he lifts the bag from his back, and pulls it open. I watch as he lifts an apple, and hands it to the woman. She looks as though he’s handing her a star. She looks at it with so much amazement, whereas the people from Ploutos may have thrown it away in exchange for something better. 

I feel a slight sting in my eyes.

“We would like you to come with us. We have many supplies that you could use, but we must show our town what lurks behind our walls.”

“Oui. I need to help my child. Please. I’ll do anything.” she turns and I see something that causes my heart to fall from my chest. A small baby is behind her, in a wooden bed. It is thinner than its mother. It is dying. 

I feel a tear slip down my cheek. This poor child, who never had the chance for a normal life, because our town wanted riches. 

“We will help you. Please, bring your child, your family, your friends, anyone.”

Her face lights up. 

“Merci.” The woman begins to cry, holding tight to my hand. “I am too weak to follow you. I am sorry. But please, please, I beg you, take my daughter. Make her healthy.”

I freeze. I see Tomas’ eyes widen in fear. 

“You must come.” I say, a cold fear growing in my stomach. 

“Help my daughter. Unite the city with us. Make it better for the future.” 

I have never in my life been so scared. This child in my arms is weak, hardly able to breath. Tomas tried to feed her, to give her something, but everything we brought was solid, and she’s much too young and weak to chew. Her only hope is to reach Ploutos.

The journey is long and difficult. I am incredibly tired from the long hours of walking, but I know we mustn't stop if there is any hope for this little girl. Her mother refused to leave. She claimed she was too weak to make it back, and we were unable to convince her otherwise. 

I see the gates in front of me. A miracle. 

The man at the gates is the same. He seems shocked to see us. I wrap my clothes around the baby, so they will be unable to see her. I cannot risk being forced away. Not when a starving child’s life is on the line. 

Passage into town is not difficult. The man simply assumes we regret leaving. I thank him, and we make our way into town. Tomas walks me to my door, and I run inside to find something to feed the child. It is simple, with cupboards full of food. Full of the things those poor people have none of. 

I manage to feed the baby a small amount of milk. She drinks it, however, seems to want to reject it. She’s so hungry she doesn't even know what hunger is. 

I stand beside Tomas, in front of all of the residents of the town. They all stare at me like I’m a liar. I just need them to understand. 

“I have travelled to Outer.” I say, and I hear many people gasp in shock. “And I brought something to show everyone what life is like out there.” I uncover the baby, whom I have named Fidelis. Mama has agreed to look after her, and help her gain strength. 

The crowd’s reaction when they see her is catastrophic. Everyone begins shouting. 

“This is a child, who has not been able to eat, for we have left them without food.”  I say.

“Something needs to be done about this!” A woman calls from the crowd. Many people shout agreements. I catch sight of a few people crying. 

Everyone looks at the baby as if she is the bridge between our two worlds. She is the thing, however small, that connects the rich from the poor. She will be the one to eliminate the walls. The world has a chance now, a possibility to fix itself.

Someone just needed to show them.