“She started it.”
“The two of you are fit for each other. Jean, to rest.”
The dog looked at the woman, let out a whimper, and slunk back into the grassy weeds with a snort.
“How are you, Moriya?”
“As good as you’d expect. Come on in.” She disappeared into the building and Walker followed Marsh inside. Every available space was filled with scraps and fragments of old technology like what they’d seen for sale in the bazaar.
“I see you haven’t cleaned up the trailer any since last time I was here.”
“If you’d told me you were coming…”
“You’d have locked the doors and pulled the shades.”
“You might be right, but it’s good to see you.” Moriya slapped Marsh on the shoulder and pulled him into a hug.
“This is Walker.”
“Salut,” Walker said.
“I wouldn’t say that around here,” Moriya said. “You’ll stand out like a one-armed porter. But welcome to Chignecto.” She stuck out her meaty hands, palms up, and Walker touched his palms to hers. It was a greeting they didn’t use in the village but Marsh had taught him about it on their walk.
“This is his first time in Chignecto. We’re headed to Alma.”
“Trouble?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“We’re getting too old for that kind of uncertainty.”
“Speak for yourself, old lady.”
“Watch your tongue, gray beard, or I’ll send you back out to see Jean.”
Walker had never heard Marsh speak with someone this way. Moriya must have recognized the confusion on his face.
“Marsh and I are old friends. No need for alarm there, pup.”
Walker attempted an understanding grin but doubted he was fooling anyone.
“I was hoping we could spend the night here and barter for fresh clothes and a wash before going into town. We brought pelts and dried venison.”
“Aye, a sure thing. I’ll go borrow a storage bin and we can clear a space for you in here.”
“Thank you.”
“Someday I’m going to come visit you to return the favor.”
“You’ve been saying that for twenty years. I’ve stopped holding my breath.”
“Fair enough,” Moriya said as she slipped out the door.
“Who is she?”
“Moriya’s an old friend from a previous life. And, more importantly, she’s someone we can trust. You can take your pack off here and relax.”
Walker set the pack down, being careful to avoid disturbing the stacks of unfamiliar metal and plastic components. “Why do we need to buy clothes?”
“To blend in. Alma’s hardly a fashion center but—well, you’ll understand when we get there. Our old clothes would stand out.” Marsh eased himself into a cracked leather chair, the only piece of exposed furniture in the place, and let out a long groan. “I’m going to rest for a bit. When Moriya gets back, help her with moving things.”
Walker agreed and sat on the floor. Marsh started snoring in less than a minute.
The old man didn’t stir when Moriya opened the door. She pointed to one of the piles near Walker. “Pass those things out to me.”
They filled three bins that Moriya sealed shut and chained to the outside of the trailer. “Most the folks in Chignecto would sacrifice their left nut for you, but you still want to lock up your stuff.” She sat on a bin and patted the empty space next to her. “Have a seat, pup, and we can get acquainted while the old guy naps. How old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Blazes that’s young. I have socks older than you. Who are your parents? Anyone I might know?”
“They were Claimers. They got pregnant without permission and were sent away on an expulsion ship a few weeks after I was born.”
“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I don’t remember them at all. I don’t even know what they looked like. Harry and Sugar were their names. Or are there names, I guess, if they’re still out there somewhere.” He pointed to the sky. “The village is the only family I’ve known.”
“You listen to me carefully, Walker. It is not fine. Never forget your parents’ names. The Qyntarak have taken so much from us. We need to cling to everything we can, to the things that make us human.” She slapped him on the knee. “Let’s go wake the old man up and get some grub into the both of you. You must be famished.”
Moriya took them to a cookhouse, a building with large chimneys belching smoke and big windows with the tattered remains of bug screens visible around the edges. She asked for three helpings of an egg-and-potato dish. The girl at the wood-burning stove had her head wrapped in a sweat-soaked piece of cloth. She muttered something incomprehensible when Moriya said, “Put it on my tab, hon.”
Walker looked at the food on its thin metal square. “Is this a tab?”
Marsh and Moriya burst into a fit of laughter that drew the attention of everyone around them. With tears running down his face, Marsh said, “No, that’s a plate.” That made Moriya laugh even harder and Marsh had to set down his plate so he didn’t spill his food. His whole body convulsed while he steadied himself with his walking stick.
“Come on then. Sit over here before tears start rolling down my legs,” Moriya said through the tail end of a series of belly laughs.
They sat with their food at a wooden table with built-in benches.
“What was so funny?” Walker asked once his curiosity had outgrown his embarrassment from being the subject of a joke he didn’t understand.
“A tab is like a running bill. They keep track of how much I owe for the food I get here and I pay it off with money, supplies, or services.”
“Saying to put something on your tab is an old expression to tell someone that you’ll pay later,” Marsh added.
“You bought this food? You use money here?”
“Yes, sometimes. I also barter my time.”
“Moriya is quite skilled at salvaging and repairing old tech.”
“Among other things,” she said with a wink.
“I was expecting money in Alma but I thought here would be more like the village.”
“It may have been once upon a time,” Moriya said, “but those days are long gone. Chignecto is more and more just an outskirt of Alma. A place for the poor and the disagreeable to settle down without sacrificing all of their dignity.”
“Which are you?” Walker blurted out the question and immediately regretted it.
“Walker,” Marsh snapped in a low voice.
Moriya smirked. “It’s alright. I don’t mind an honest inquiry. I’m the latter by birth and the former by choice. I have what I need and I’ve got nobody telling me how to live. I can earn a bit of copper if I want and go into Alma for some sweets or some medicine, but I don’t have to. I’m free to stay right here and live my life without anyone bothering me.”
Walker listened with saucer-wide eyes as Moriya described a type of freedom so different from the life of responsibilities and order that he knew.
“And no one to look out for you when the sleet flies sideways.”
“Listen to you with the old person expressions. Ah, I’ve missed you, Marsh. You should come visit more often.”
The older pair stared at each other and Walker felt inexplicably out of place.
“I always mean to,” Marsh eventually replied.
“Well, let’s get you sojourners off to the shower house before the light leaves us completely. You smell like a pair of salmon leaped to the shore and rotted in the sunshine. I’m not sleeping with that in my trailer all night. I’ll see if I can get town clothes for you from someone back here. You don’t want anything from the bazaar. Nothing but cheats and swindlers out there taking advantage of the idiots visiting from Alma looking for a quick thrill out in the slums.”