So this was what it felt like to walk into a trap with eyes wide open? Sure, Raymond hit the gym often, and his endurance was in top form, but this? Sea farming was gruelling. Though the facility they volunteered at was leagues above what he imagined, the task expected of them was criminal. A considerable distance away were separate state-of-the-art compartments that made the job semi-automated, but that wasn't the case for volunteers. No. To get a more authentic experience, they were given a fairly wide expense to farm, along with snipping tools and floaters holding baskets.
"Authentic experience, my ass." Raymond blinked hard when sweat slipped into his eyes. He had filled four baskets so far and was halfway through the fifth one. Forget his dislike for the beach. It had taken him less than ten minutes to forget he was thigh-deep in seawater. The monotony of the task and his obsession with smoothly getting the hang of his duties took all his focus. And there was another factor as well. Jamal was a slave driver.
Jamal never smiled. Or talked. All he did was inspect their progress with this... intense heavy stare. He would slush around with an instructor who did all the talking and pointing out. Getting the stare of disapproval meant the instructor would subject you to more pointers and reasons why small mistakes could lead to great economic loss. And the sun. Its heat was punishing.
No way this wasn't hell. Why would anybody volunteer for this? He glanced around. There were six other volunteers, including Genevieve. What killed Raymond was the look of enjoyment on their faces, and they wouldn't stop laughing and chatting as they went about their task. Even Genevieve. For some reason, her expression of enjoyment further ruined his mood. He was a director of a multi-million-dollar company for God's sake. What was he doing across the globe, sweating under the sun and ripping out weeds because of a former employee?
They had been at this all morning. He had placed his watch and phone in the locker provided, so it was impossible to tell the time. But he was certain they had spent at least four hours under the unforgiving sun. And he assumed Maldives' beaches were usually windy and cool. Well, not today. Smooth luck you've got, Raymond.
"All right," the instructor said in a loud cheerful tone. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. Annoyingly smiley as well. "That's two hours. Let's take a break."
Stunned, Raymond blinked at the instructor. Two hours? It's been only two hours? Unbelievable. Straightening, Raymond placed his hand on his waist and stared at his half-filled basket. He needed to get out of here fast.
Without acknowledging others, Raymond made his way to the shore. Six hours from now, they were scheduled to volunteer at the reef restoration centre. No way. He wasn't the least bit interested. He did not want to rip weeds off the sea bed or restore the reef. He was no scientist or farmer. It would be better if he—
"Hey!"
Pretending not to hear, Raymond continued walking until he reached the shore. Bending, he took off his rubber boots and emptied it of water.
"Ray, what's up?" Her voice sounded closer now, and it was bright, happy. Raymond shrugged off the straps of the rubber dungarees they were mandated to wear before kicking it off. Wearing the boots once more, sandy feet and all, he headed to the station. He would get his stuff and hightail out of this place. No one could force him to do what he did not wish to.
"Hey," her voice was gentler as she walked around him. When she stopped in his path, Raymond was forced to stop as well. Her eyes danced over his face. "You're angry."
"I am not angry." Raymond walked around her and resumed his trek.
"But you look mighty pissed though right now."
"I am not pissed."
"You totally are. Your jaws are clenched. Was it the beach? I can—"
"It was not the beach." Raymond came to a stop and massaged his shut eyes with his fingers. "It was not the bloody beach, Genevieve. How do you do it?" He was genuinely curious.
"Huh? Do what?"
He opened his eyes and observed her. She had on the same dungarees and a black tank top that had some whimsical nonsense written across it. That she looked so relaxed after those hellish two hours pissed Raymond the more.
"I was bent under the sun for two hours, ripping weeds from salt water. Rinse repeat. Sea farming is not for me. I'm out." He resumed his trek. How was it that the station felt even farther the more he approached it?
"Dude," She hurried after him, "you were the only one who took the whole thing like some Olympic sports. The rest took a slow pace, but you were in the zone. I even thought you were loving it."
"Loving it? Ha!" Just then, there was laughter behind them. Raymond turned in time to see the five other volunteers. One ran down the beach, hooting as two girls chased after him. Why did it seem like he was the only one who went through a crucible?
"You were in beast mode from the moment we started, and you wouldn't even meet my eyes. I was sending signals for you to chill," Genevieve said with a laugh. "Jamal focused on you because of how seriously you took the whole thing. Congrats. You're his favourite student."
"I could feel his judgemental gaze boring holes through my head."
Genevieve laughed, and the sound carried through the beach. "I keep saying this over and over. You need to chill. We are on a vacation of sorts. Is it permission you need? I permit you to be a bad student."
"But—"
"You saw that the farm is automated, yeah?" Genevieve fell in step with him. "Feel free to slack a bit. I harvested one basket while making new friends. Win."
"You are something else." Raymond found his earlier annoyance evaporating. "Fine. I'll try to do as you said. It's funny cause there was a time I was all ease and breeze, but now it feels impossible to find that chill version of myself."
She made her way around him again and began walking backwards. There was a twinkle in her eyes. "Can I offer you my quack psychologist opinion?"
A laugh escaped before he could stop it. "Sure."
"Maybe you shouldn't be so focused on who you were before. Assume the former you died or something. The responsibilities pressing in? Put a pin on them and determine to have fun now." Her gaze was earnest. "Try it when we head back to farming. Do not worry about losing your teacher's favourite status. Slack a bit on your task. Accept Jamal's laser gaze of disappointment."
And Raymond did just that. After the break, he was back in the water, but this time it wasn't a race. He took his time with his tasks and talked with the rest of the volunteers. They turned out to be pretty cool people. The conversation was fun and easy. In the midst of all that, he caught Genevieve's eyes now and then. Sometimes, she would give him a thumbs up or wiggle her brow with a knowing smile. And he would smile back and do nothing to fight the warmth that spread in his chest or the wave of attraction that followed.
This time, when two hours passed, it felt a whole lot shorter.
***
"Why do you think Rollicks exist?"
"Huh?" Ada stopped fiddling with her logger and glanced at Bo.
Bo had summoned her some minutes ago, and Ada had left a pissed-off Raymond to his seaweed farming and hurried over. Now they sat in beach chairs in the back gardens of the Division. Bo was nursing a cup of milkshake while Ada fiddled with her logger nervously.
"I'm guessing the same reason Highbrows, Miffs and Blahs exist."
"You are a funny one," Bo said as she pointed with her drink. She was sitting in a lounging position with legs stretched in front of her and crossed at the ankle. "We exist for balance. What house does Teddy belong to?"
"Miff."
"Have you noticed anything different about Teddy?"
Ada thought hard about it. The only thing she could come up with was his general awesomeness and excessive sticking to rules.
"Teddy is changing, Ada."
"I... I do not understand. Is that a bad thing? Does it have something to do with me being a Rollick?"
"Eh." Bo waved away her words. "Do not get so worked up, Ada-soda. Think about it with me. Since Teddy is a Miff, his personality core should be a short temper. A tad impatient as well."
"Oh." Ada frowned. "Teddy is not like that, though."
"Bingo," Bo said as if that solved the puzzle.
"I do not understand."
"Something about Rollicks creates balance. That's why it's a good idea to have a Rollick among Helmets. The personalities of all the Helmets would be balanced. Better synergy and whatnot."
"Oh."
"Yeah," Bo said with a nod. "Look at the Northern Division. Without a Rollick all these years, Luke has become an exasperating combo of all the worst sides of Blahs and Miffs... minus the Highbrows cause his brain is empty."
Bo and Ada laughed in the same instant. Ada slapped a palm over her mouth, eyes widening. How could she laugh at a Helmet?
"Relax. You're free to donkey laugh at that stick in the mud. We are still investigating his leadership pattern. When the Southern Division is done with him, he would cry to the One Up High for reprieve."
After finishing her drink in one long draw from her straw, Bo fully turned to face Ada. "So, about your wings. Do you have a clue why they act as they do?"
Ada shook her head.
Bo leaned in. "So, there are different types of helpers. Cupids. Rifters. Health sprites. Protectors. Time Keepers. A few more I can't remember at the moment. You learned this in Structures and Histories, yeah?"
"Ummm." Ada looked away. She had slacked in class because concentrating was hard. "I don't think I was listening in class that day."
Bo facepalmed. "Why am I not surprised? Anyhoo, I'll just stick to the basics. Sometimes, abilities cross and anomalies form when this happens. Among Cupids, Rollicks fall under this category. I think your ability crossed with Protectors, hence the wings and vanishing ability. There may still be more you can do with those wings. Who knows."
Giddy excitement bubbled in Ada. "I can not believe my wings are that awesome." She made a mental note to read up on Protectors.
"Better believe it." Bo's eyes sparkled with glee. "We are the best there is out there. It's just a fact. Rollicks rule, and Luke's just butt hurt he's ordinary."
Ada nodded as renewed pride zinged through her. For the longest time, she had felt bummed about being a Rollick and how her wings appeared different. No more.
"Tell me more about the Rifter mentioned."
Ada told Bo everything, including how his wings were taken because he had tampered with his assignment's brain.
"I can not believe Luke wasted such potential. Gah! Rollicks are always easily misunderstood." Bo was frowning now. "Have you ever heard of cupids tampering with the brain of their assignment?"
"No."
"That's what I am saying. What Haruto used was his Rollick ability, but he was punished for it. Luke's head is so far up his ass that he can't see gold even though it smacks him square in the face." Bo suddenly winced. "Ah, sorry for my crude words. I just really, really find Luke distasteful."
"Does that mean you can help Haruto become a Cupid again? He is suffering." Ada's hope soared.
"Nah. That's out of our jurisdiction," Bo said with a sad shrug.
"Oh." Ada dropped her gaze.
"But."
"But?" Ada swung her attention back to Bo. "But what?" She asked eagerly.
"I told you we are carrying out our findings. We have to be sure of certain things before we call for a hearing."
"Hearing? What's that?"
"I've said enough." Bo stood and stretched. "I've got to head in. How's your assignment going?"
"Before I left, Raymond was in a bad mood. Turns out seaweed farming wasn't as easy as he hoped. But I think the water has more to do with his mood."
"Huh?" Bo made an exaggerated confused face. "Boy, I'm glad I'm out of the field."
Ada laughed. "I'll keep handling my assignment."
"Do that," Bo said with a nod. "And read up the info in the logger I gave you the other day."
"Sure." Ada had previously checked it out. So many materials to read. She had noped out fast.
"Later, Ada-soda. Go kill 'em," Bo said before taking off.
As Ada sat alone in the garden, she thought of Raymond and Genevieve. Why did it feel like they were not progressing as fast as they should? Or was she impatient? Maybe she was. She recalled feeling this way in her previous assignments and ending up doing or not doing something to sabotage them.
For now, she would do exactly what was expected of her and hope not to ruin things. As for Haruto and sneaking into the Rifter Division, that was a given. It wasn't just to help Haruto or find out info about Raymond. There was a thrill to it. She could already tell that she would have a blast visiting the Rifter Division; what remained was Haruto's complete cooperation.
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Hope you enjoyed this chapter.
At first, I imagined that I'd finish this story before Nezzar. But surprise, surprise. Look at my life. *wipes tears*.
Fun fact, I had three story ideas in mind with this story concept. The title of this story was supposed to be "Rollick" with a Cupid concept; the second was called "Holy Martha" with little conscience creatures (you know those tiny cute good and bad avatars that sit on your shoulder and act as your conscience? yep); then the last book would be "Guarding Julia" that had to do with Protectors. Very neat ideas... then I looked at the pace I was going with Worst Cupid Ever, and I shook my head and backpedalled hard. Perhaps, in an alternate universe, another Precious Nkem has dutifully written and published those stories that may forever remain in my head.
Anyhoo, give me your votes and comments. I love those.