Young Writers Society

December 21, 4140

12:00 pm

Harry tried to sit up and move towards the office common but instead she tumbled off her couch onto the floor.  She was glad for the paper-thin rug in between her and the wood.  It wasn’t much but still better than slamming directly into the hard surface.

The conversation in the common didn’t stop at the sound of the thud.  Once Harry came more to her senses and was able to realize the sounds occurring out in the hall, it was obvious they couldn’t hear the thud over their excited conversation.  She still couldn’t distinguish the different voices, but it was easy to hear the screaming that was now causing her ears to ring even more.

“You don’t know how to take care of her.”

This voice was lighter than the others with a strong Itala accent.  Harry tried to lean further and concentrate on the voice before it ever faded away, realizing it must be Ita.

“Take care of her?  You don’t have the right to lecture me about that.”

Will, just stop.

She didn’t like anyone talking about having to care for her.  It was just another reminder of the things that Mrs. Bivens would say to her in attempt to guilt her into another mission.  Another mission that would just result in more destruction of the place she would love to call home.

It was always the little words that started to bother, an occasional phrase that would trigger an old memory from so many worlds away.  The memories rushed over her as she tried to make her way to the door which could be no further than ten feet, but it felt like a mile.

When she finally crawled to the door jam, it took another ten minutes to pull into a half standing position.  She had started to ignore the conversation in the outside room.  This was a time when she needed to avoid all distractions and move towards the small goal, in the way she would always approach one of these subjects.

She looked towards the common area and everyone was sitting down now.

At least they can’t see me from this perspective.

All the people she was on a friendship level with were sitting in this room: Jud, Will, Robe, Ita and Cati.  It must have taken a lot to draw Cati out of their cave three districts away and then it occurred to her that she was the reason they were all here, that they cared about her.

There was that word again.

Cati turned suddenly to face Harry, their eyes as gray and blank as ever, but recognizing that she was there.

“You know something, Harry?  It takes the blind hermit to truly realize a person is there.”

Harry walked towards them slowly, still dragging half of her body as she struggled to stand on the linoleum.  Cati reached up to take her into a hug-like embracing, touching her shoulders just enough for the comfort but avoiding the bad areas.  Cati was the only one in the room that was familiar with all her issues or more the only person that she could have trusted.

“And which philosophy book did you take that from darling?”

They lifted a box from the small satchel hanging by their side and felt around to place it in her hands.

“My own.  After five hundred glorious years, I have written the end of the trilogy that will satisfy all of the readers.”

Harry untied the box as she rested against the back of the armchair.  She didn’t want Will to see the pain she was in while walking or how much effort it would take for her to sit down again.

“So, they drug you all the way out here just because of me?”

“You say that like you still think you don’t matter for anything.  You matter for everything.”

Harry looked down at the small drive wrapped in tissue paper.  It was a standard plastic case, but it was wrapped in a light wood and leaf patterns, an intricate design that could only be created by the person sitting next to her.

In the rest of the common room, Will and Jud sat on one couch and Ita and Robe sat on the other, just far enough from each other to avoid most of the violent tendencies.  It used to bother her that she still worked with someone she was in a relationship with even though that part of her life was dead.  Every time she saw these two in the same room it was just another jar into the past and at times like this, she did consider retiring.

Robe broke the silence while pulling a pack of cigarettes and a notebook out of his pocket.

“The perp was Leo Vinconni, the son of Vincent Vinconni, which you probably guessed from the name and his declaration.”

Harry took one of the cigarettes he passed to her and dug around for a lighter.

“Yes, he was quite dramatic this morning.  I haven’t had to use the bullet trick for a very long time.”

“Is there any truth to you being the one to snuff him?  Off the record?”

Harry looked to Will and she considered lying again.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“I did it.”

Will’s face turned even more pale and Ita was soon fishing for a cigarette of her own.

“Will, I’m sorry for lying to you.  And Ita, I’m sorry for killing your best man.”

“He wasn’t mine, he was my father’s.  And everyone knew he was causing trouble for the business by just being in the same room with you.  I will ask you why you snapped though.”

“He threatened me.”

“And?  Those threats never did much damage to you before.”

“And Will.  He would have killed her if I didn’t go along with the new trade deal.  Which, if I might add, he was going to do under the table and you weren’t going to be involved in the slightest.”

Ita turned her lighter back and forth in the palm where it sat before she responded to Harry.

"I understand, most people wouldn't. But I do understand you, Harry. You are a unique snowflake.”

“And did you take that from Cati’s book?”

The ancient alien with wrinkled orange skin rose out of their chair and flipped through a notebook.

“Doesn’t look like it belongs to me.  Maybe you should write your own book, Ita.”

“Another time, another time.  Now if you folks excuse me I have business to be running and a health department to be dealing with.”

Harry stood up at the same time and walked her towards the door, with Robe soon following in tow.  She took down her white fur coat from the post along with a red felt hat and then leaned in to give Harry a hug, whispering, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”