Posted - 2004.03.18 04:23:00 - [1
Edited by: Bhurak on 18/03/2004 04:24:39
Through the window
Amidst the dark of world untamed,
Beyond the boundaries of our faith,
Let us spread truth to men un-named,
Through trial far from borders safe.
Excerpt from the Amarr Serviceman’s Prayer
“Marny, time to eat. Come visit with me while I make us some food.”
Bhurak busied himself in the small kitchen and shortly a small girl ran into the room and grabbed his legs. He reached down and lifted her to eye level.
“Just what do you think you are doing, pretty?” He grinned.
“I caught you. You can’t get away now.” She giggled. He gave her a quick embrace and set her down.
Thank god for small blessings, Bhurak thought. The small girl had grown on him in a surprisingly short time. They were practically inseparable now. He always took her on his excursions into the city, carrying her on his shoulders. They could both see the world, and he had company.
He was starting to think this whole living on the Minmatar home world idea was foolish. He was not welcome. That was plain to see. As he walked down the street, he was met with hateful stares. Mothers held their children closer as he walked by. The local law enforcement seemed to take great joy out of following him, as if they didn’t have better things to do.
He was in a city, and excluding his small family, he was completely alone. He had never been happier. Thank god for small blessings indeed.
“What made you think that I want to get away? Now sit down at the table and I’ll feed you.”
She scurried over to the table and Bhurak brought a plate of poorly prepared food. Frejla is definitely a better cook, he thought. This will suffice for now.
Frejla was captaining a small frigate for the Republic fleet. She would be gone for a week at a time on a contract. During that time, Bhurak would watch Marny and read scriptures. Frejla was due back in 2 or 3 days. Then a few days later, Bhurak would take the Maiden out for a contract or two. This arrangement had worked for a little over a month. They were earning enough to live off of and it allowed them to spend time together.
They finished eating, and Bhurak took stock of the kitchen. Very little food remained. That meant he would have to go buy supplies. Bhurak hated shopping. At least it was an excuse to take the child out and explore. He began to gather up dishes to deposit them in the small sink.
“Marny, my dear, we are going out to buy some food, go put your shoes on your feet.”
Small feet scampered out of the kitchen. Bhurak finished cleaning up and looked to the corner. His constant companion, his rifle, looked back. 15 souls sent back to God, reluctantly. There were sure to be more. Many more. His hopes to live in peace dwindled daily as he saw the dark looks his neighbors gave him and his small family. So for now, he went armed.
He lifted the rifle, checked the chamber and magazine, and shouldered it. He was becoming far too accustomed to the weight. Marny came back to the kitchen, shoes in hand.
“What’s taking you so long?” So young and so impatient, he thought. Bhurak chuckled.
“Nothing, let us leave.”
With Marny on his shoulders, he walked the distance to the local store. The small girl atop his shoulders held tightly to his head so she wouldn’t fall off. For some reason, she always found the sensation of bouncing on his shoulders hilarious, so a constant stream of giggles kept him smiling.
Balancing out the giggles were the people on the street. Bhurak was definitely not welcome. Unconsciously he adjusted his rifle. People immediately looked away from him self consciously. That’s better, he thought, better no looks than hate filled eyes following him. Those who weren’t watching him also couldn’t try to harm him. This was looking to be a good trip. He smiled.
The trip to the shop was remarkably quick. Bhurak attributed this to the company. Marny was a truly enthralling person, and she made the distance pass quickly. He ducked to enter the shop, preventing his daughter from hitting her head on the frame.
Bhurak grabbed a basket and they perused the aisles. They had a routine. Marny would grab the food and drop it in the basket for Bhurak. They had only done this once before, at another store, but it worked well.
With groceries in hand they approached the clerk. A look of fear was in his eyes. Bhurak suddenly realized why.
“Stop that, I am not going to rob you. I want to buy this.” He pointed at the contents of the basket.
The clerk was visibly relieved. He began to calculate the bill as he talked to Bhurak.
“Normally we don’t serve your kind here, but seeing you have a child, and a gun, I decided to make an exception”
Many responses to the quip flew through Bhurak’s mind. Should he rebuke the man? Should he insult him? No, simplicity and kindness were the
Posted - 2004.03.18 04:23:00 - [2
With the bill paid, Bhurak gathered the food and carried it out the store and to home. His mind wandered as his feet carried him home. No, not all people here were hate filled. Some were able to look past their contempt and help. There may be hope after all. With arms full, a bounce in his step and a little girl on his shoulders he walked the rest of the way home.
Bhurak stopped in the doorway of the building for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the darkness, and to let Marny down. After a moment he climbed the stairs to his door. He was fumbling for his keys in his pocket when he looked at the lock plate on his door. Scratches. Someone had been fiddling with his lock. Bounty hunters! His mind racing he spoke.
“Marny, I think I saw your mother down by the tree, can you go get her for me?”
Marny looked at Bhurak, nodded, and ran down the hall towards outside and supposedly to Frejla. With Marny out of harm’s way, he removed his rifle from his shoulder and held it in the ready position. He gently pushed on the door with the muzzle. It quietly swung inward.
Too sloppy to be hunters, they must be thieves. He slowly inched his way into his apartment. It was a mess. Possessions strewn all about, there were pages of a book ripped from the spine strewn about. He knelt and looked closer. The scriptures. Ironically a passage about wisdom. Such ignorance irritated Bhurak. He made his way to the kitchen.
GO HOME AMARR FILTH. Painted on his walls in red paint. Dishes broken all over the floor. Someone had defecated in the corner and wiped with pages from the scriptures. Hope vanished, replaced with dread. These were his neighbors.
A voice called from the entrance
“Father? Mother wasn’t outside.”
In a city full of millions of people, Bhurak and his family were alone. They were outsiders. The doors and windows to Matar were shut, and they could only look in.