Chapter 15: Where new friends become subject of interest

“Hey! Lillie!” I heard a voice call from behind me as I walked down the street after slipping away from my father’s side after we finished our shift at the mine, deciding to visit the forest before the long days of summer would end. I turned around and saw Lara behind, waving a friendly hello, and I noticed that her work apron was slung over her shoulders, and flour remained on her round cheeks.

“Hi, Lara,” I called back as she jogged towards me, picking up her long skirt with her strides.

“I saw you walk by and thought, hey, let’s go out, yeah? Wanna join me?”

“Uh,” I muttered, and looked down at my work clothes covered in filth.

“Let’s get something to eat, yeah?” She rubbed my arm with a friendly gesture, and her eagerness, her cheerful aura caused me to finally accept, and Lara swiftly linked her arm through mine, and directed me onwards. She spoke about some annoying customers causing a commotion in the bakery, then happily how many croissants she prepared for the long, enduring process for the flaky delicacies, but, finally, as we turned the corner of the city, the familiar street suddenly dawned on me that she was taking me back to The Old Bowl.

While she pushed the swinging doors open, gripping my arm tightly with hers, my heart raced. Yet, there were no men joining us, and she led us to a single table, and looked happily as she sat down across from me.

“I’m paying, so don’t worry about anything and order whatever you want,” she said, and patted my hand as if she could sense my nervousness. “It’s my treat.”

“Sure,” I said while adjusting myself against the single chair and looking around. “But next time let me buy food.”

“Naturally,” she replied, and then she hopped away and ordered food for us at the counter, then returned, suddenly even more eager than before. “So, Jamie tells me you’re not particularly happy with your job.”

“How can anyone be happy working in the mines?”

“Yeah, that’s for sure. However, most people don’t have any other option. What about you? What would you rather be doing?”

“Me?”

First Jamie questioning me, now Lara? I can’t keep having this conversation.

“Well, I need the money for my family,” I replied, and looked down at my arms, and began scratching at the corners of my elbow from under my rolled up sleeves. There was a particular patch of dirt that I began trying to work away with my fingernails, and felt more intrigued to work away the filth than look at Lara. The strong stench of other earthy, smokey smells mixed with mead and steaming meats filled the area, and I figured the addition of the dirt I flicked off my arm would only add to the atmosphere.

“Yeah, that’s understandable,” Lara said, and placed her elbows on the table and rested her round chin in her palms. “That’s why Jamie is there too. Well, to be honest, he doesn’t have many other prospects, well, at least that are suitable for his particular personality. Anyway, I hear you can read and write.”

“So, seems like word gets around.”

Especially now that there’s a blabber mouth like Jamie.

“Those are valuable skills,” Lara continued. “You probably could work for the upper class with such abilities. A teacher, interpreter, writer—lots of things you—“

“What? Why would I ever want to work for those greedy bastards?”

“Hey! A job is a job. And you can still make an honest earning, you know?”

“Not if it forces me to work for people who make us common folk live miserable lives.”

“Here’s your food,” a waitress said while placing the steaming plates of potatoes and venison onto the table, interrupting our conversation.

“Thanks Sher,” Lara said, and then reached into her pocket and gave the server some Den. “You’re the best.”

“Anything for you, my lovely. Let me know if you need anything else,” the waitress chimed, and winked rather flirtatiously while Lara’s cheeks grew rosy in color. They bantered for another moment, then the server clinked the coins together in her pocket, and gave a final wink and wave. Then, Lara returned her gaze upon me, her flirty smile fading.

“Where were we?” she asked, but before I could respond, she began speaking while picking up cutlery. “I’m not suggesting anything that you don’t want to do. I just think you have some pretty valuable skills that shouldn’t be wasted in the mines.”

“Did Jamie tell you to say that to me?” I asked, and pushed back against the small wooden chair while crossing my arms.

“Of course not,” she replied and hesitated with the fork and knife in her hands. The steaming plate of food caused my stomach to growl, but the subject caused me to hesitate. “Listen. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m out of line, let’s eat, and we can talk about other things. I really didn’t mean to pry. And, sorry if Jamie also made some intrusive comments. Just—well, you know. Just looking out for each other.”

“Why?” I asked, and Lara began cutting the venison easily with the knife. “Why look out for someone you don’t even know?”

“Okay, yeah, I hear ya, but I really want to know more about you. So, again, my apologies, dearest Lillie. Maybe we were brought up to care too much, who knows. Despite it all, dig in, yeah? That venison isn’t gonna steam much longer.” She took a large bite, smiled, then turned her attention to the her meal that only enticed me to ease the pain in my stomach, despite the social discomfort. As I followed Lara’s lead by using both knife and fork, I slowly ate the meal while Lara chatted more about the bakery, overly passing her intensive interrogation as if it never happened. She then ordered mead for us, but, this time, I sipped it slowly, finding it easier to consume as no smoking men were eyeing me and Lara was twice as friendly. A heavier meal seemed to ease the sour taste, but perhaps also hide the effect of alcoholic intoxication that was steadily causing me to feel more light-hearted.

“Let’s talk trade, yeah?” Lara proclaimed after the server took our plates, stealing another moment of flirting that appeared to be common place for Lara. She was older than Jamie, most likely in her mid twenties—perhaps the same as Historia. She seemed friendly enough, easy to get along with, and had a contagious smile that could lighten up even the darkest of rooms.

“You’re interested in berries from the forest, yes?” I asked while I lifted the pint to my lips and drank.

“Yeah—there’s a shortage of berries from the farmlands, and my uncle has been attempting to find a better alternative. Our supplies of butter and sugar are fine, but marmalade has been difficult to maintain since the fields were apparently washed out by heavy storms.”

“Is that what happens?”

“Mostly—bad weather, locusts eatin’ the wheat, landslides—oh, one year there was crazy amount of snow from the mountains, and a whole avalanche took out some buildings on the side of the mountain.”

“I didn’t realize the farmlands were so close to the mountains.”

“Oh, they’re everywhere. In the valleys, sides of the ranges—our supplies come from all around Ciimera. Nothing but the best, for well fed cows from the mountains are better for butter and milk. But, wheat fields need the lower lands.”

“Sounds kinda cool.”

“Yeah, anyway, berries. If you give me berries, I’ll give you bread.”

“Seems fair.”

“Well, I only give fair deals, so no need to worry about swindling.”

“Unlike Jamie, who only seemed to take pride in conning people in giving him free drinks.” Lara laughed as she placed her empty pint on the table, and the server fluttered over again, asking what was so funny while simultaneously taking the empty pint for a refill, asking me if I wanted more, to which I refused.

“Ah, Jamie—he’s got a big mouth, so don’t always believe what he says,” Lara said. “But, he is a loyal friend, and is fun to be around. We didn’t always get along, but now I’m so thankful for him. And, hey, if it weren’t for him bringing you here, I would have never met you.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Anyway, I’m excited for the berries you will bring me. Can’t wait to see what wonders you’ll find, since, you know, you’re the girl who can find anything.”

“Well—“ Suddenly, my heart began to race, despite the relaxing sensation of the alcoholic intoxication. I had a desire to invite Lara out to the forest with me, but hesitated at the idea—too afraid of being disappointed with inviting a potential friend into the world of tranquility—too afraid of losing that sense of disconnect from the city.

But, as Lara continued to chat about less trivial subjects as the night went on, I felt more comfortable in her presence, for, she was very enjoyable to sit and chat with, despite her more sisterly advice in the beginning that seemed to echo Jamie’s intrusive opinions.

After Lara finished her third pint, perhaps fourth, and we had laughed on several occasions, we pushed our way out of the tavern with linked arms. I felt slightly tipsy for the first time in my life, and enjoyed the swaying steps we took together. Although our vulnerable position as women seemed risky as we ventured through the streets, Lara’s confidence allowed me to ease up on the worries.

“Oh Lillie, you’re so sweet,” Lara laughed, her cheeks reddening. “Let’s be friends, yeah?”

“Sure, why not?” I replied, feeling enamored by her directness and contagious sense of friendliness. “Let’s be friends.” Although my heart feared opening up to another friend, especially one so kind and seemingly happy in her life, in that moment, I allowed myself the luxury of accepting her kindness and the hope I could make friends once again.

Maybe it’ll be different this time.

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“Lara?” I heard a voice call out. We had apparently walked back to Lara’s home in our tipsy manner, and Jamie peered out of a window from their home in the third house above.

“Oh, Jamie! Lillie is my friend now!” Lara called out, then let out a loud burp as she pressed a hand against her chest, then I laughed while Jamie shook his head.

“Wait there. I’ll help you up,” Jamie declared, then disappeared from the window.

“Jamie likes you,” Lara said with slurred words and a smirk while slowly leaning too far away from me. “He thinks you’re pretty amazing.” I felt my cheeks flush as I tried holding onto her before she fell, and although I knew that she was speaking out of her tipsiness, I felt suddenly uncomfortable when Jamie appeared from the stone staircase, ticking loudly with his tongue.

“And here I thought you were against going out for drinks,” Jamie said. “All the while, you underhandedly take my sister up, get her drunk, and bring her home in such a state? Posh! And you call me a swindler!”

“I didn’t—“ I stuttered, but Lara placed a hand against my mouth, and shushed very loudly.

“I invited Lillie out,” Lara announced while turning her nose up at her brother. “I am the swindler and you, dear brother, have been swindled—Lillie is my friend!” She began laughing rather ferociously, but stumbled backwards, and Jamie grabbed her arm, and swung it over his shoulder and began walking her up the stairs as she continued to speak about her great act of befriending me. Jamie only argued with her, declaring that if it weren’t for him, I would have never met Lara, and, for some reason, I followed them up the stairs while inserting my own comments of involvement in the act of swindling.

Jamie pushed through the front door of the third-level house that opened into a furnished living area with a giant fireplace blazing in the corner. The room felt cosy, with comfortable chairs, decorative paintings, and an older man was smoking in a wooden rocking chair, closing his eyes as he released puffs of smoke.

Lara continued to hiccup while Jamie partially dragged her down the hall, turning to a door that was apparently her room. He helped her remove her shoes, and I stood watching in the doorway, examining Lara’s tidy, cosy room that smelled strongly of sugar and flour. I had never been in a house on the third level, and I noticed the differences in furniture style, the sizable rooms, and obviously more decorative spaces with luxuries I had never seen before.

“I’m fine,” Lara mumbled as Jamie covered his sister after helping her into bed, still fully dressed. “You don’t need to treat me like a baby.” However, the instant her head hit the pillow, a snore escaped her mouth, and Jamie kissed her forehead while singing a tune. Then, he looked over at me still standing, and smirked.

“Pff, big sisters,” he huffed, then straightened up as he blew out a candle, then walked past me. “I was just making tea, want some?”

“Sure,” I replied, and he tugged on the edge of my sleeve, and I followed him down the wide hallway covered in lovely paintings, and stared down at the decorative carpet that was cleaner than any floor mat I had ever seen. Jamie entered a large kitchen, and immediately tended to a steaming kettle that was made of shiny copper. I gazed around the nearly spotless kitchen with a polished stone fireplace, and a beautiful cherry wood counter upon the line of cabinets made of the same wood. Jamie whistled a song as he prepared a small teapot with herbs, and then poured the copper teacup over the tea leaves.

“Take a seat,” he said as he glanced over his shoulder, and then walked over to a table with two teacups with matching saucers, and placed the items on the table as he once again beckoned for me to sit down. As he walked back to retrieve the teapot, I examined the fragile teacups, wondering how expensive such delicate pieces of porcelain were.

“From my grandparents,” he said, and I quickly placed the cup back onto the saucer. It clinked, and Jamie grinned, and I wondered if this was how Sable felt whenever I introduced him to something from my world that he had never seen before. He placed the teapot on the table, and sat down stretching out his legs underneath, accidentally bumping my foot. He wore a lilac colored, long-sleeved shirt with wide sleeves and a plunging neckline, revealing his hairless, light gray chest. His trousers were gray, and slim fitting, and his blonde hair was completely loose, and parted dramatically to the side. His clean and flawless evening-clothes were drastically different than my stained, dirty work clothes in which I still wore.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said while picking up the teacup and also examining it, and I noticed even his fingernails were spotless and well trimmed—nearly glossy, like his flawless skin. “Looks like the two of you were having fun. Unless it was all a ploy to make me envious.”

“Oh, I’m not that cruel—we ran into each other and she invited me out,” I replied, noticing Jamie pout his lips, and I looked down at my braided hair, and began twisting the ends with my finger. Again, the drastic changes of my hair turning white alarmed me, and I felt even more insignificant sitting in the kitchen of an obviously well-off family who was attempting to befriend me.

For what reason do they want to be friends with someone like me?

“Did you have fun?” Jamie asked, and he shifted his foot under the table, slightly bumping me again.

“She’s pretty nice to be with, even though a bit direct at times.”

“That’s what it’s like having a big sister; always loves to tell people her opinion.” Jamie laughed, then leaned forward to grab the tea kettle, finally also moving his legs away. He lifted the dainty teapot and poured the contents into our cups, careful not to splash. “She also can’t stand other people not being happy all the time like her. Wherever she goes, she’s gotta make sure everyone is comfortable. So, she makes a good friend when you’re feeling down all the time.” Jamie moved the teapot back down, and lifted his steaming tea to his thin lips while holding it rather posh-like.

For a moment, he lifted his eyes to examine me, but I moved my eyes down while lifting the cup to my lips. The chamomile tea felt refreshing after an eventful day, but sitting with Jamie in his home felt uncomfortable, especially since I had arrived with his sister in a drunken state. I began to question his intentions, his stolen glances, and the friendliness he and his sister were showing me.

Nothing made sense in light of our born positions in society.

“You’re pretty quiet tonight,” Jamie said. “Especially for someone out drinking with Lara who is by no means a lightweight. How much did she drink? What about you? Does this mean you’ll go back to The Old Bowl with me next?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, feeling more nervous than before as I grew weary of breaking the delicate teacup if I were to place it too harshly onto the saucer.

“Do you like the theater? There’s a really good performance in a week. We could easily go after work.” Unable to handle any other concept of a society far from my own knowledge, I placed the cup down as gently as possible, and finally looked up at Jamie who was only staring with his large, blue eyes.

“I should head back home. I have work tomorrow.”

“We can walk together.”

“To work?”

“No, I’ll walk you home right now—unless you—“

“Yeah, you can walk me home, it’s late.”

“You can stay here, too. I can set up a cot for you in the living room, or in Lara’s room, but she does snore, so I don’t recommend that for you will never get any sleep with her around.”

“No. I’ll walk home. Otherwise my parents will freak out.”

“Fair enough. Finish your tea, then I’ll walk you home.”

“Okay.”

I lifted the steaming cup, and sipped slowly, but consistently, feeling the desire to leave before Jamie invited me again to stay the night, or out for another night of fun that I was unaccustomed to.

Thankfully, he didn’t, and he walked me home after my cup was empty. My neighborhood wasn’t far from the area in which he and Lara lived in, but I found it interesting how we lived in proximity but never met until I started working at the mine. However, upon the realization of their middle-class status, wealthier than my low-class family, I decided it was no surprise that we had never run into each other before. Concepts of theater, luxurious clothes, or even fancy given-family names was far from my understanding of social constructs.

Money, wealth, connections, businesses, and many other systems determined the status of a person, and which level they could afford to live on. I normally only interacted with those from the ground and second levels, but being on the third level gave me a new perspective of how similar, yet slight differences people lived within Cedrus City. I scarcely could imagine what the fourth or fifth, even sixth levels would look like, for I had never had the need nor desire to venture that high.

Third level was already surprising enough, even if Jamie and I worked in the same mine.

“Thanks for the tea,” I said as we approached the cob staircase below my home, surprisingly walking the way home in silence. “And walking me home, again.”

“Naturally, my dear,” Jamie said as he tipped his head. “You can repay my kindness by going to the theater with me. Daisy Dukes is a hilarious comedy.”

“Oh—Jamie, I—I really don’t belong at a theater.”

“Nonsense, what kind of rubbish idea is that? Everyone goes to the theater.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Because maybe no one has ever taken you, nor invited. So, here we go again. Go to the theater with me? You already said you don’t like the tavern, at least with me—I’m still convinced Lara forced you into a ploy to make my envious—so, let’s try the theater next. And, if you don’t like it, then—“

“I’ll think about it, okay?” I looked up the dark staircase, avoiding Jamie’s obvious disappointment. His attempt to force me to like the things he does was becoming increasingly annoying, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to see the world from a different view.

That is what I wanted, wasn’t it?

To be higher up? To no longer be the one at the bottom?

Was this my chance? Or just another distraction to the reality in which I was born into?

“Alright, well, the show is next week, so you’ve got until then to think about it. Okay?” Jamie said, and I nodded. “And, if you need something to wear, just let me know.” My eyes bulged and I looked over at Jamie and he flicked his hand in the air, and gave a bow. “See you tomorrow, my sweet relentless, hesitating, in between friend who refuses to acknowledge my kindness to its fullest extent.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Another day, another Den,” I replied with a smile,

“Hey! That’s a good one,” he said, and tossed his long, golden hair over his shoulders. He waved, then placed his hands in his pockets, and moved down the street, whistling to himself. As I ascended the stairs, I heard his singing voice echo as he sang another day, another Den, and I wondered how someone with talents like his would end up in the mine, despite his difficulties with getting along with family members. Maybe there was more to the story.

A waft of smoke came from my father’s pipe as he sat on the balcony upon the front doorstep. He nodded upon my arrival as his relaxed eyes drooped. I anticipated interrogation of my whereabouts, but he simply asked for me to sit with him

“Is mother on a rampage?” I asked while settling upon a stool next to him.

“Something of the sort,” he replied, then inhaled the strong herbs from his pipe, and I listened to the city slowly quieting down for the evening, but no longer felt the tingling tipsiness of the mead. As I waited for the sound of my mother’s room door to close, indicating less risk of running through her stampeding rage, I wondered about Jamie’s invitation, and Lara’s eagerness to befriend me, their sibling relationship, and obvious desire to both win me over.

“You’re doing well,” my father said with a surprisingly soft voice. “I’m proud of the work you’re doing. I hear great things about you in the mine and your wages are helping us as a family. Your mother may complain a lot, but she doesn’t have as many worries as once before.”

“Thanks,” I replied, but still feared what it would take for his words to crumble. One mistake? Another influential friend beckoning for me to climb out of the hole my parents intended to keep me in? What would they even think if they knew that Jamie and Lara were from the third-level?

Yet, as my father continued to smoke and I allowed my head to lean onto his shoulder, a new sense of warmth cast upon my soul. He did not move away, nor jolted, nor did he interrogate me about my evening whereabouts, or even notice the mix of evening beverages scents permeating from my clothes.

Despite my weariness, I allowed the feeling of winning my father’s approval to settle in my heart, even if it could easily be taken away, like the disappearing smoke evaporating into the stifling city air.

“Have you ever been to the theater?” I asked, and my father grunted.

“I used to take your mother,” he said while his teeth clinked against the wooden pipe. “But, the tickets became too expensive—the shows too political. It used to be a proper place for honest folk. Then those greedy bastards bought out all the good seats for themselves. Just like the rest of the city, those filthy swines have to be at the top.”

“So, it’s divided, just like the rest of society?”

“You got it.”

“Why?”

“Because they can. People with money love to flaunt their wealth. Never forget that.”

“What about the people with slightly more money? Like the middle-folk?” My father grunted and his teeth clenched upon the pipe. He moved abruptly as he shifted forward, and began emptying his pipe.

“That’s enough for the night. All that matters are honest, hard-working folk of the city. Anyone else is just plain-evil.”

As my father continued to clean up the balcony and we both moved inside, I thought about all that he said and wondered if anyone could ever classify someone like Jamie as pure-evil.

Then again, my father was terrible in his judgements.