X-Marks: Stealing Shadows

Choices

"Doesn't it feel nice?" Ida said, her closed eyes faced the faded sun.

It did feel nice, but more so to be done with my crop counting for the day.

Ida rolled back into her wicker seat and said, "It's been years since these bones have been up here. Thanks for bringing me."

"Anytime," I said and finished knitting the last row of my scarf.

There was only a week until harvest and little left to do. Most travelers spent their days anywhere but the canopy when chores were through, but I was always happy to keep Ida company and listen to her stories.

"The way these children move about in fear, such a shame. Not like travelers at all," Ida said and stared into canopies clouds.

The warm breeze whisked her short white hairs like grass.

"Weren't you always a traveler?" I asked.

"No, not always. I was younger than you when I came here if you can believe that. I may be too old to do most things, but my memory is as sharp since the day I was born," Ida said and stabbed her threading needle in a cushion.

She always did this when preparing for a long story.

"Must have been five - no maybe six, when my mother and father brought me by boat from England."

"Where's that," I said.

"Far over the east ocean," Ida said and rocked back in her chair, "It went by that name during the council era. This was back when it was voted on how much was needed for rations and dues. None of this nonsense the Allies put us through."

"Then why'd you leave?"

"Didn't have much of a choice. There was nothing but rubble and dust after the council was overthrown."

"What happened to the council?" I asked and pulled my chair closer to her.

Ida whipped with laughter. She had told me my thirst for answers was like no other.

"The council," Ida said, "They were responsible for counting every ration down to a grain of rice and a sip of water. Each nation had voting members to represent their people. This was meant to keep it fair, but that never happens."

"Why not?"

"The council members favored their family and friends over their people. They began to horde rations for when times were tough, and there was little to go around. Even when people were starving all around them."

"Didn't anyone stop them?"

"Of course! Greed can't hide under hungry noses for too long. The world burned to ashes the day it fought against the council and its troops. Too many living in frail cages," Ida chuckled, "Listen to me, I talk like my father. I was born long after all of this to really know."

"Then what," I said.

"We came here, and settled with the other English speakers, naturally. I had never seen so many people working together and all to keep our camp working."

"It wasn't always that way?"

"Certainly not," Ida said, "There were times my father told me people divided themselves down to the very name they were born to. When times became desperate, and cities were starved down to just one, there was no time for that kind of thinking. If someone offers a hand to lift you from your hole you were a dying fool to not take it, my mother always said."

The field of travelers in front of us had many shades of skin and hair and only alike in their way of speaking. It was hard to imagine a time when the world was not like this, but there were many ideas I could not understand.

"Why doesn't the council just come back?"

"Living under the council was no way to live either," Ida said, "Besides, there's nothing left of the old world from what we've been told. There were times when the roads were overrun with the sick and desperate. Now it's rare to hear anyone with stories outside Ally control."

With every word she spoke the world got smaller. This was the way it was, and there was nothing anyone could do. Or any place else to go.

Ida was right. We did live in fear. But why? With all this food we could feed ourselves for years. Instead, we gave it away.

"Why doesn't anyone make things better?" I said and pushed back into my seat.

"You sound like me when I was young," Ida said and chuckled, "As you get older, you'll understand that change has its price too. If you're willing to pay that is."

Ida rocked in her wicker seat. It's broken legs teetered and scraped on the rubble of the roof. Her face turned with the sun. How could she be so calm? It really wasn't fair.

"Someone has to. Someday," I said.

"And maybe that someone will be you," Ida said and slowed her rocking, "But it's not shameful to keep things as they are. The more losses we face, the harder it gets to judge others for their choices."

"But what about people who make wrong choices?"

"I've never met a person who hasn't made a wrong choice," Ida said and twisted her frown.

"Never?"

"Even a destructive decision can have good intentions. Remember that."

I did remember, but not in the way Ida might have intended.

The crops of the canopy folded under the growing tunnels of wind. The scent of fresh soil filled my senses. I watched as the delicate green leaves thrashed against one another.

There had to be something we could do.
There just had to be.