Light As The Breeze Part Three

A shadow eventually approached me. it transformed itself into a figure, and the figure into a fireman. he bent down and saw my staring eyes. He said something, but I couldn't hear him. I blinked.

He looked away and more figures approached. They knelt down next to the first fireman and looked at me as though I were a freak in the circus. They talked briefly and began to move quickly. They leaned over my now dead customer and began to do something. I couldn't see what. One of them moved so that he was kneeling lightly on the corpse covering me. It caused the weight to shirt and I suddenly felt pain. I let out a faint gasp and let darkness wash over me again.

/And like a blessing come from heaven,
For something like a second,
I was healed, and my heart
was at ease/

Sister Helen slowly ran the brush through my hair and she softly sang a Kyrie. My eyes were closed and I drifted along, enjoying the feeling the brush and the and the one the song produced.

I floated happily along until shock jolted down my spine. A second voice had joined Sister Helen's. That was not a shock because Father Maxwell sang with her all the time. No, the shock was that it was my voice. In the six months I had been at the orphanage I had not said a word. I hadn't even made a sound.

Sister Helen's voice faltered for a moment and then continued on, as strong as ever. She finished brushing my hair and calmly braided it. "Time for mass, Duo," she said. "Let's go down to the chapel." Sister Helen held out her hand for me to take, and I did so in silence.

I don't know how they found out my name. Social Services had known it when I'd woken up after the explosion, but they hadn't told me how, and I hadn't asked. I hadn't spoken since I'd seen Her right before the blast, which meant I'd said a total of two sentences in a year and half.

I sat through mass, as quiet and as still as a mouse. As quiet and as still as I'd been since they'd brought me here. I listened to the formal movements of the mass, enjoying them almost as much as I'd enjoyed the music that was part of them. I listened to Father Maxwell preach about love, about God the savior, and eternal peace. I remember wondering how peace could exist. How there could ever be peace if no one was willing to fight for it; but then that has always been the story of my life.

After Mass we filed into breakfast and got our ration of food and water. Father Maxwell led us in prayer and we dug in. As soon as people finished they took their dishes into the small kitchen, where one of the older children would clean them after everyone was through. Then they dispersed to do their chores, after which—since it was Saturday—they could pretty much do as they liked.

Most of the other children had left the dining room when I saw Sister Helen approach Father Maxwell. I was still slowly eating. "Father," she said softly, "Father, Duo can speak." Father Maxwell's head swung towards her.

"What?" he asked.

"Duo can speak," she repeated. "I was singing this morning while I did his hair and he started singing a Kyrie with me. He hasn't made a sound since then, but he can speak."

Father Maxwell looked thoughtfully at me. "Hmmm… We'll talk more about this later, Sister. I think I understand, at least a little."

Sister Helen nodded at him. I could see they didn't want me to over hear them any more than I already had. I ate the last bite of my breakfast, carried the bowl into the kitchen, and slipped upstairs to tidy my room. That was my chore for the weekend.

When I had finished that I curled up in the corner with a worn copy of The Wizard of Oz. My homework for the weekend was to read up to the Wicked Witch of the West's castle and I was already at the part where Dorothy was leaving the Emerald city and found herself dressed completely in white, not emerald green. I smiled to myself as I recalled Father Maxwell and Sister Helen's shock when they discovered I already knew how to read.

Solo had taught me. I almost giggled at that memory. I'd gone out with him, and another friend, Sean, to steal our dinner and other necessities. Sean had stolen a box of tampons because he couldn't read and thought they might be useful. Solo almost died of embarrassment and began teaching both of us to read that very night. He never would tell us what Tampons were, only that boys would never ever need them.

Somewhere along the way it had stopped hurting to think about Solo. I was just trying to get better so I could keep my promise to him. Even then I never lied. I might run away, I might hide, but I didn't lie. I think Solo would have approved.

I continued reading until Sister Helen came to my door. She always checked over the orphanage to make sure the chores were finished. "Duo," she called, a faint smile on her face. I looked up. "I'm glad you're doing your homework, but it's too nice a day to stay inside. Go out and play with the other children. I think they're organizing a game of soccer."

I closed the book and leapt to my feet. Putting the book away first, I dashed out of the room, a huge smile on my face. Since I'd come to the orphanage I'd learned to play as normal children did, and soccer and basketball were my favorite games. I could hear Sister Helen laughing softly behind me, but I didn't mind. I knew she was just happy that I was finally learning to be a normal child, even if I wouldn't let them cut my hair and I silently insisted on keeping my street skills in practice.

I dashed out the main door to see that Sister Helen was right. Katie, one of the older girls, saw me. "Duo," she yelled, "you're on my team." I nodded and ran over to her. "I need you in right mid," she said. "Are you ok with that position?" I nodded happily. The only position I hated playing was goal-keeper, although I would do it if they needed me there, and I liked mid field best of all. I could be either offensive or defensive, whatever the situation called for, and it helped me keep my tactical skills alive.

Katie may have known that. She used to be a street kid too, and she always tried to keep her skills sharp. Neither of us trusted the world or our situation to stay stable, although we hoped it would, and she liked to play left mid but she would fill in other spots as needed. Survival calls for versatility, after all.

I threw my whole self into the game. Possession went back and forth as we battled for control of the mid field. The other team scored first but we evened it up fairly quickly, and by late in the second half—after we'd been tied at one for ages—Katie and I took over. We won the game three to one. Who knew soccer was battle tactics training for the young?

I gradually began to smile more openly and over the next six months I started to talk more and more often. I did well in school, learning rapidly. So quickly that I far out paced the other students of my own age. Father Maxwell said he always knew I had a high IQ, even if I hid it under a stubborn nature and by becoming an elective mute. Four years of my life were happy, stable, and filled with love. I didn't want for anything, and while I didn't believe entirely in Father Maxwell's God, I knew there were Gods out there.

/O baby I waited
So long for your kiss
For something to happen
Oh—something like this/

She's sitting there still, patiently waiting for me to finish. I feel there's something I should do, but it's too much effort to think, to uncurl from my ball, to expose any more of myself to the cold December air. And I know that nothing I do would change anything. The fact that she's here tells me it all, just as it told me so long ago at Maxwell church. I tried to change things then, and all I did was save my own life. But she wouldn't have taken me anyway. I know. I've been waiting a long time for this, and since I've kept my promise it's all right now. But a few more moments won't hurt anything. She knows it and I know it, so she waits, and I continue to remember.

/And you're weak and you're harmless
And you're sleeping in your harness
And the wind going wild
In the trees/

I was almost ten when the Colony Liberation War started up again. Father Maxwell had been preaching continuously about peace, and eternal pacifism. I still didn't believe it could exist without someone to fight for peace, someone willing to defend it, but I never told Father Maxwell that. People were pulling away from us, and Federation troops were multiplying all over L2.

I had started to see her again, almost everywhere I turned. She never said anything to me. She rarely acknowledged me, and on the rare times she did it was simply a small smile before she disappeared again. None of the other children ever saw her, even when they were looking right at her. That's when my suspicions were confirmed.

It happened on a Saturday. Even in the colonies it gets cool in November, so we were all close to home. I was trying to do my algebra homework and not getting very far very quickly. It's not that it was entirely difficult, it's just that I wanted to be doing anything else but homework, and when you're in that mood it takes six times as long to get anything done.

I was lying on the common room floor, Katie sitting near by when they burst in the door. The Colony Liberators, toting guns, and holding innocent people hostage. They came in, smiling coldly, and informing us that we were their safety against the Federation and Oz troops. They helped their injured to the couches and chairs, and left them for Sister Helen to fix. And Father Maxwell couldn't keep his mouth shut. He was a churchman, a priest, and a preacher. He preached. He preached peace to them, kindness to them, and love to them. He preached about pacifism being the only way. And in between plotting their strategies, and listening in utter disbelief to Father Maxwell's words, they accused him of being a traitor, of being a spy for the Federation.

I remember looking up and seeing the gun flash through the air, crashing into Father Maxwell's head and sending him tumbling to the floor. I remember Sister Helen jumping in between the Father and the Liberators, crying out for them to stop, and the man's hand flying out to slap her in the face. And buzzing in the background I can still hear a series of disjointed and surreal comments.

"All we need is one Mobile Suit, just one."

"They're traitors, we should make them confess."

"If you didn't stir things up, Federation spies."

"We need to be united to throw them off."

Their words circled round and round my brain as I leapt to my feet. "Stop, leave them alone! I'll get you your damned Mobile Suit, just leave them alone!"

I ran past them, seeing their shocked faces as I barreled out the door. Sister Helen called out for me to stop but I ignored her. I was too busy going over the logistics of getting onto a federation base and stealing one of their prize Mobile Suits.

I dashed through the streets, leaping over rubble, and dodging people. My thoughts were muddled. I don't even remember getting onto the base. I was just there with soldiers yelling at me to stop and shooting at me with a hail of bullets. "It doesn't matter that he's a kid, our orders are to kill all of the colonists," I heard one of the soldiers say as I fled.

Somehow I avoided getting hit. I slid into a hanger, filled with trucks. I looked up into one that hadn't been shut and saw the mobile doll. It was perfect. I could grab it in the truck, and go. Then the so-called Liberators would leave and Father Maxwell and Sister Helen would be safe. I climbed into it before anyone in there noticed me, and then I hot-wired it. My background frequently proves useful like that.

The truck started with a rumble and I drove, even though I could barely see over the steering wheel. I drove through a fence and the now empty streets back to Maxwell's church. I was too late.

The Church and the orphanage were smoking ruins. I ran inside, tripping over bloody bodies, bruised bodies, even charred bodies. I went searching for my friends. I ignored the Liberators, they meant nothing to me. I found Katie first, and then Father Maxwell not two feet from her. Then I found Sister Helen, still alive, and she was there too sitting perched on a pile of rubble watching and waiting. Sister Helen lay half buried by rubble, and blood bubbled on her lips with every breath she took. She smiled. "Duo, we were worried. Father Maxwell was thinking about you to the very last. He tried to convince them to stop, that peace was the only way, but no one listened. They will one day, they will," she gasped.

"Sister Helen," I breathed, tears flooding my eyes. "Oh, Sister Helen…"

"It will be all right, Duo. I'm going home to God now. Be safe, and remember to be happy this time. Don't lock yourself in a world of silence again, promise me."

"I promise, Sister Helen, I'll be happy if it kills me," I swore.

"Don't let it kill you," she demanded, and went on before I could speak again. "Father Maxwell and I want you to have this," she held out a small silver cross on a chain, it had always been around her neck before. I took it from her and slipped it on. She smiled faintly, "God bless you… and keep you, Duo."

Sister Helen's eyes closed and I dropped to my knees, tears pouring down my face. She came close and I closed my eyes.

The next I knew I was surrounded by Federation soldiers. "Murderers," I hissed. "Murdering scum."

"You're under arrest for the stealing of a government issued Mobile Suit, and for resisting arrest…" his voice trailed off and the butt of the rifle came flying towards my face.

I fell into darkness only to awaken again in a cold Federation prison cell with shackles around my wrist. My baseball cap was still in my pocket. I twisted and pulled my muscles into several odd contortions to get it out and then did it again to get it on my head with the brim over my face.

Two soldiers game by. "He's the only survivor of the Maxwell Church Massacre, and he ran through a hail of bullets here on base without ever getting touched. I wonder if he's got a deal with Death?" one asked. The other snorted.

"Of course not, he just got lucky. Let's go."

I smiled grimly. I didn't have a deal with Death, she just didn't want me yet for some reason. I looked around my cell and started singing a Requiem Mass for those that had died. I had plenty of time to escape. And I would escape.

On to part 4

Back to part 2

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Copyright 2005