Whisper Gatherers (4 page)

Chapter Four
 

Nothing Ever Happens

I sat amidst my fellow grads and took to peering around at the assembled throng sitting in the vast auditorium where my lettingloose ceremony was about to begin. It was an echoey place to be sure, well suited for big meetings, or as a venue for travelling thesps and other loudmouths. High of ceiling, made of pale stone, it gave out the vibe of solemn and no mistake.

How could I not sit erect in these stiff-backed chairs that allowed no room for spine slump. Which was what I most earnestly wished to do. My sweat glands were full on with the gravity of the occasion. Plus, my noggin swarmed with Santy’s words about the Prasiebees and their desire to make me some kind of hagio. All I wanted to do was to sink into the clean, hard floor and melt away into a puddle of salty stink.

However, I could not. Lettingloose day was a great event that heralded us teens into the ranks of almost ‘dult. Meaning, time to choose between a life of procreation, or a kiddless existence in the service of The Special Army of the New Territories. A Backpacker S.A.N.T. was all I ever wanted to be.

I was keen for this ceremony to be over, as I did not care so much for being plonked amongst so many and was becoming tight of chest. I swear that all of Cityplace was there, except for Deogol, of course. He was worse than me at hating crowds. Never one for the great outdoors, my bro had of late taken to staying inside more often. I could not recall the last time he’d set foot beyond the place we lived in. Except a few moons ago when I saw him skulking near the perimeter fence.

With a greatly sigh, I shuffled in my seat and accidentally touched the arm of Drysi. She glared at me. I turned away, only to face the sneering gob of Hrypa. Just my luck to be seated between the two milksops who had dared me to climb the vidscreen. The same puny pants that had to take back calling me a ‘Flimsyfem’.

Drysi whispered into my ear, “I see you couldn’t find anything eye-catching to wear. My ma and da procured this fancy outfit for me. It’s a Ladies frock, second hand.”

“What? You’ve got a Ladies frock on? An actual dress that a real Lady has worn? I doubt anyone else here has such finery,” Hrypa shouted out for one and all to hear. He was most aptly named. I do not think the runty juve had the capacity to speak below a bellow. Of course, his yelling attracted the attention of most bods in the place. I managed to slither down in my seat to avoid the backlash of stares that must surely ensue by Hrypa’s loud-mouthed exclamation. To my utmost mortification, Drysi stood and turned around so that everyone could witness her most exotic garb. What’s more, they all clapped.

“See that Adara, everyone thinks I’m as gorgeous as a Lady.” Drysi bowed then sat down. She flicked back her long, curly blonde locks and smoothed out the voluminous skirt that spread around her legs like a thick, pink fog. She turned to me with a smug mush and said in a sweetly voice, “I’ve got so many Probably’s to choose from that I swear I’ll have to ask the sheriff to intervene to select the best one for me. I don’t know how I’ll be able to fend them off and settle down with just one spousemate. I do look forward to becoming a ma and all that.”

“Good for you if that’s all you want from this brief lifespan.”

“Oh Adara, you have turned quite green. Maybe Hrypa can don a blindfold to become your one and only suitor.”

Hrypa pointed at my ever-diminishing form and shouted, “I’d sooner join with a stuffed piggywig thanks.”

“You’d get more comfort from said extinct being. There’s more yielding to be had in a dead-skin than Adara.”

They nearly soiled their undergarments so hard did the limp pair guffaw at my expense. I let them giggle on until they ran out of breath, then said under mine, “You are named right and proper Drysi, for you are indeed a thorny piece of Wolfy puke. As for you, you blabbermouthed excuse for a male, you can have your dead animal and shove it up your…” my words were drowned out by the boom-booming of the Cityplace band that sat in front of the main stage.

I got up from my seat, shoved Hrypa out of his and sat where he once did. Thusly rid of being the filling in their mockery sandwich, I ignored whatever it was he shrieked in my ear, and turned my attention to the crowd. Santy Breanna was there with some oldie relatives. Said ancients were trundled out to such gatherings now and then, otherwise they stayed put in the Goldenagehome. I waved to Santy, she waved back.

The music stopped. Sheriff Fychan and Headteach came onto the gold trimmed podium. They bowed and the sheriff, clutching a load of scroll thingy’s, stood to one side to let the Headteach do his speechifying. As soon as he opened his gob, my brain went into class mode and switched off. I dare say he gave a goodly talk, but I was lost in thoughts unrelated. All I picked up were a few phrases about the quality and passion of the students, lies, all lies. Then he began to call us up. Nad.

One by one the grinning juves walked onto the stage, shook his hand, grabbed the paper tube from the sheriff, then walked back down the few steps to their original places. I waited for my turn, wondering what tag he would use to summon me. “A. Baird.”

Ouch and then some. I shot out of my seat and legged it up the stairs in no more than two jumps. I grabbed Headteach’s hand and gave it a vigorous shake. Sheriff Fychan plonked a rolled up piece of paper in my mitt. I quickly left, but not back to my allotted seat. I’d spied Santy and my other oldie relative sitting to the side of the musicians. Quick as a sneeze, I made my way to them, unravelling the scroll as I went. It was blank. What the huff was that all about?

I nodded to my greatgranma. “Adala, don’t you look as cute as a kittle with a ribbon on?”

“It’s Adara, Greatgrangran,” I said in a whisper, bending low so only she could hear.

“That’s what I said.”

“No, you said…” Santy poked me in the ribs and I stood. She squinted and pouted like a girlybub. I smiled at my grey haired greatgranma. In a louder voice, said, “How are you?” Blunder of the highest order. Santy rolled her eyes and I clenched my teeth.

“Oh, I’m the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing happens. Everyday is the same. I get up, I eat, I watch a few vids, then play some game I don’t know how to play, then I eat again and sleep. It’s a boring life. But that’s to be expected. I’ve served my purpose. Now I’ll just have to wait for the last great moment, and fumble off this mortal soil.”

“Coil.”

“What?”

Another poke by Santy. “Nowt.”

Grangran made her mouth even thinner than it was. “Have you made a joining yet?”

“No Greatgrangran.”

“Adela, you’ve got to get going on that. Why I was younger than you by an orbit or more when I chose your greatgranda. He always said that he spotted me first, but I’d been eyeballing him for many orbits.”

Although I kept my face relaxed and assumed a countenance of interest, my insides screamed to flee. Granny Amranwen spurted out the exact same blabberings every time I saw her. Which was no more than twice an orbit at most; thank the sky and all the stars in it. Still, I knew she would babble on until a tasty was brought before her.

I nudged Santy. She fumbled in her side pocket for something to distract her. To my relief, Santy held forth a luscious bar of Sterichoc. Granny Amranwen snatched it from her hand, tore off the red crinkly wrapper and stuffed half the thing into her drooling mouth. I turned away when the brown sweetie stuff began to melt and ooze down her chin. Quicker than a bumble collecting pollen, two staffnursies from Goldenagehome, rose from their seats, produced a Steriwipe each, in one swift movement, they’d cleaned her face.

“Mind what you are doing Meilyr, I nearly choked. Where are the puppets?”

“No puppets today, Ma. It’s the lastday ceremony of the ripe ones. Remember?’ Meilyr said. The big staffnursey bent down to where she was sitting and took her frail hand in his. How fragile her small fingers looked in his great paws. Aptly named ‘ironman’ this ‘dult. For I have seen him lift two male juves right up into the air, one in each hand, when they said a rude thing about one of his oldies.

“Ah, waste of time. I wanted to see the puppets. If I’d known it was only Aledra’s lastday thingy, I’d have stayed put, played ‘gokittlego’ on my new slab gizmo.” We all laughed. She tutted. “Like I said, it’s a boring life. Nothing ever happens.”

I became aware of a rumbling sound, not unlike thunder. I turned to Santy Breanna and saw her tear off down the central aisle towards the main door. Greatgrangran folded her arms and let her head drop onto her chest. I strained my neck to see what was going on.

“Our time is nigh. Prepare to meet your maker. Make peace with the BabyCheesus and repent your slovenly ways!”

Huffin’ hell, Praisebees.

Santy Breanna was pushed backwards by two burly guards as a whole load of Christfans burst into the building. They wore long flowing tunics tied loosely around the waist by some raggedy rope. They flipped-flopped their way towards the stage with scanty sandals that exposed chipped and mucky toenails. They showed their teeth. I’d never seen such dirty dental prongs before. All were tarnished brown, with stuff that looked like flesh, stuck between them. Some gouged out the sinuous bits with their jagged fingernails and popped the remnant into their mouths to be swallowed with relish. So, not just Praisebees then? Were these fanatics Carnies too? I shuddered.

A great gasp and a putting of hands over mouths ensued as these bedraggled worshippers walked past. I saw Santy Breanna try to force her way through the Praisebee guards, but they were huge and stood in front of her like the trunks of trees.

The sheriff and Headteach, who were still on the stage, huddled together and looked around for some kind of security backup. Sheriff Fychan, a small thin male without much hair, yanked out a comdevice and screamed down it for assistance. He threw the thing onto the floor when all it did was make a buzzing noise. He peeled the Headteach’s arms from around his waist. Stepping forward, he said, “Stop right where you are. Advance no further. I said, stop!”

The Praisebees did not. Instead, they tramped faster chanting, “Cheesus is life. Cheesus is good. Believe in him and live forever.”

A catchy little ditty to be sure, but it fell upon deaf ears. All in Cityplace believed in the OneGreatProvider that centuries ago saved the few remaining bigwigs from famine and disease. He built our now great home where we live, safe and sound. Except that today, we were not. The leader of the group walked up the steps and onto the stage. Sheriff Fychan held up his hands in front of his chest to warn the tall slim male, to advance no further. The ‘dult smacked his mitts away. He turned to the quaking crowd.

“Calm yourselves. Do not be so a-feared. We come in peace. We come because of rumours.”

Nad.

“Word has filtered through to our nomadic ears that the dead and lost ones have risen.”

Double nad.

“That these troubled spirits have come to warn us of things to come. Things most wretched and horrible. We must listen to them. Mend our ways. If not, then all upon this land-starved planet will perish once and for all. If that is so, then a saviour must rise to save folk. That hagio, or saint, will free us from despair and deprivation. That saviour is here.”

Triple nad.

The Praisebee/Carnie disciples fell to their knees and banged their heads upon the hard, stone floor, saying as one, “Praisebee Cheesus. Praisebee Cheesus.” Blood from their temple wounds splattered just about everywhere. Cityfolk gasped with terror and disgust at their pristine, clean space being tainted by their red disease-ridden fluids. Santy used this distraction to rush past the guards and join me.

Hrypa started the screaming and near all joined in. Except for myself, Santy Breanna and Greatgrangran, who was still asleep. Santy grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the standing audience. She nodded to Meilyr, who shook Greatgran Amranwen until she woke. He helped her rise and pushed her through the shrieking folk that stood before their chairs. The main Praisebee lifted his arms to the ceiling. Something heavy fell through the skylight in the roof.

The head-pounding Cheesus/Carnie nuts, put their hands under their robes and drew out facemasks. They pressed them over their noses and mouth, then joined their leader on the stage. I was baffled by their action until I saw the grey vapour spread around the room. The screaming stopped. Coughing started.

Gas bombs.

Chapter Five
 

The Truth About Ghosties

My eyes streamed with stinging water and my lungs near burst for lack of fresh air. When I did suck in a lungful, I hacked and wheezed. After a few secs, the smoke dispersed. I saw a sea of hands and legs as folk attempted to crawl to the nearest exit. Above the choking sounds, the voice of the main Praisebee could be heard going on about that Baby huffin’ Cheesus, how he died for our sins and such stuff. I would have shouted back something along the lines of, “Yeah he sounds like a great ‘dult all right, but how long ago was he alive? Oh, and what about the old-old saying, ‘Practice what you preach.’” I think your Cheesus would be very upset with your behaviour here, don’t you?” But all I did was spit up gunge.

“And the Lord said unto his children, ‘Let those without sin cast the first stone.’ His mighty words humbled those around him and made them think twice before accusing others of things they may well have done themselves. That is what we must do, since we are all His children. Soon to become hungry. Hungry for the taste of that which has been denied us for too long. We need more than grain for sustenance. We need flesh.”

His ranting became even less coherent as he continued to blast out his version of all things Christian and the desire for meat. The other devotees wailed and slapped their thighs. Then looked to the ceiling with a look of ecstatic joy upon their pale faces. I sat back on my heels, wiped my face on the sleeve of my tunic before twitching violently as a Steriwipe was pressed against my neck. I turned. Greatgrangran was on her knees holding said cloth. Her face was screwed up and tears streaked down her wrinkled face. She coughed a few times then said, “Here, use the thing to cool down the inflammation around your eyes Andrea.”