Gamma Leaves Home - 2. Chapter 2

Gamma Leaves Home (Part II)

     

Gamma woke up to Elora poking him in the side.

“We’re here!” she smiled at him in the dark. Before him sat several tents and huts made of tarpaulin or canvas, a few camper trailers or RVs surrounding the makeshift camp. Several trucks and jeeps were resting quietly, a few people watching them from the cabs.

The three of them jumped out of N’athir’s truck, Gamma staring all around him at the various fires that were slowly burning out for the night. From one of the vehicles a teenaged boy got out, drawing on a glass pipe that he handed to Elora when he got close.

“You’re gonna be in trouble!” he smirked as Elora drew on the pipe.

“Meh, not for long,” she said, offering the pipe to Gamma. “Gregg, this is Gamma. Gamma, this is a my friend Gregg. Don’t ever play cards with him.”

Gregg reached out to shake hands with Gamma, who was still looking at the pipe.

“Nice to meet you, Gregg,” he said, handing the pipe back without smoking it. Gregg took it and grinned.

“Do you not smoke?” he asked, dark shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes. Gamma shook his head, the light from a nearby fire flickering on their faces.

“I’ve never smoked…,”he drifted off. His eyes are the same color Gamma thought to himself.

“Really?!” Gregg exclaimed, looking to Elora. “Where did you find him? Behind the backwoods?”

“Actually, the woods were to the West of us,” Gamma deadpanned. Gregg looked to him, his green eyes meeting those of stone-strewn earth. At first he scoffed, then he grinned, clapping his hand on Gamma’s shoulder and holding the pipe between them.

“You’ve never smoked?”

“No,” Gamma shook his head, “Tobacco was forbidden among the Malmoken.”

Green eyes blinked in the firelight, withdrew the pipe from sight, and turned to Elora.

“It isn’t tobacco, Gamma,” Elora explained, looking to Gregg.

A quizzing look crossed his dark face. “What is it?”

“Just a blend I bought. Well, I’ll catch you later, Elora. Nice to meet you Gamma.” Gregg smiled and nodded, then walked away from them.

“Well, that was odd,” Gamma said. Elora grinned and took him by the arm.

“Come on. N’athir has already disappeared on us. He doesn’t stick around to mingle very much.”

“Oh,” Gamma said, hands on his backpack straps, “Am I staying with him tonight?”

Elora thought for a moment, glancing around the lingering fires.

“If you promise not to try anything funny you can sleep on the couch in my camper.”

Gamma smiled as they walked between tents and dying campfires. “Didn’t we already have the booby conversation?”

Elora giggled.

“Yeah, I’m just laying down the law.”

They came to a camper and Elora pulled a key from a long, thin chain around her neck. She used it to unlock the door and they went inside.

“So you have a camper to yourself?” he asked while she lit a lamp on the kitchenette counter.

“Yep,” she replied, opening a window to let in the night-fresh air, “Dad snores, so I guilt-tripped him into letting me buy one.”

“Huh,” Gamma said, looking at the various decks of cards and random dice on the table.

“You’ll be sleeping on the couch,” She said, tossing a blanket from a cubby-hole under the sofa onto its cushions. She went into the bedroom and came out with two pillows, handing them to Gamma.

“If you need to pee, go behind the camper. Toilet paper is over there,” she pointed to a cabinet, “but make sure you go well away from camp to shit. No one appreciates turd on their shoe.”

“I’ll keep that in mind…,” Gamma rolled his eyes

“Good,” she smiled, “I’m normally up early so I’ll try to not wake you in the morning.”

Gamma nodded. “Goodnight, Elora.”

“Goodnight, Gamma. Sleep well.”

She closed the door to her bedroom, Gamma stretching out on the couch in the dark. He laid in one position for a few minutes, then tried another position, and another for a few moments. He let out a sigh and finally found a position that was most comfortable for him, slowly dozing into the land of dreams.

     

When Elora woke the next morning she yawned and stretched, wondering if her father had made coffee yet. She slipped into a pair of pants and her shoes, then quietly opened the bedroom door to find Gamma sprawled across the floor, arms flailed out across the linoleum of the kitchenette. She held back a laugh while tip-toeing around him, carefully stepping out so as to not wake him.

The sun was barely peeking over the eastern horizon, most of the tribe still sleeping as it was their party time for the next two days. As Elora walked toward the camper her father used, she heard a few people stirring. Here and there she saw some of her friends laying in tents, mesh screen up to allow the morning breezes in as they smoked their sativa. Some nodded, some said good morning, and others offered her a hit of the weed.

“Thanks, guys, but I can’t. Gotta talk to Daddy before N’athir does.”

One brown-blonde girl grinned at her as she hit her pipe for Elora. “What’d you do?” her boyfriend smirked.

Elora rolled her eyes. “Nothing too stupid this time. Got to tranq an inductee!” she smiled as she waved goodbye.

“Hey, wait!” the girl said, handing her pipe to her boyfriend and unzipping the tent, walking along with Elora.

“You found a new guy?”

Elora nodded as they walked together.

“Yep. He left the Malmoken last night.”

The girl nodded. “I thought their Exodus was in the Spring?”

Elora shrugged. “I guess he wanted to leave early.”

“Weird,” the girl said, then she smiled. “Well, I’m going back. Good luck!”

Elora laughed as she got to the camper door. Her knock on the door was answered by a gruff, “Come in!” She opened it and smiled at her father.

“Good morning, Daddy!” she said, grabbing a mug and making a cup of coffee.

Her father, Chief Rolling Rock, laughed as he took a sip of his coffee.

“You beat N’athir to the punch. What did you do this time?” his blue eyes twinkled against his graying brown hair.

She sat quietly, trying to choose her words carefully as she stirred her coffee. While she thought, the lines that were starting to wrinkle his face strengthened.

“It must be pretty bad, Elora, if you don’t have a good story ready.”

Her blue-green sea eyes met his sky blue irises.

“Heathe was killed last night.”

Rolling Rock pursed his lips, nodding as he took in the news. “What happened?”

“He tried to rob the Malmoken. Got drunk beforehand though and was being an idiot. The Malmoken killed him and his tribe.”

Rolling Rock drank his coffee silently. She did the same, waiting for the question that was coming.

“How do you know this?”

“Heh,” Elora laughed weakly, “are you sure you want to know?”

“Oh, I’m sure it has to do with N’athir’s leaving camp around ten-twenty last night, but I’d like to hear your take on it.”

A sigh escaped her, knowing, as usual, that her father was smarter than her.

“I was going to rob them after they robbed the Malmoken.”

“Hmmm…,” Rolling Rock sat with his coffee. “Well, I guess it must be irritating to lose an opportunity to steal from a thief. Doubly so when you learn that they don’t have anything worth stealing.”

Elora’s mouth fell open.

“How did you know that?”

Chief Rolling Rock laughed at his daughter.

“The High Priestess and I speak directly. Did you already forget?” And for you to know what I know, I’d wager you spoke with a Malmoken.”

Elora smiled as she drank her coffee.

“Yes, I did. In fact, I may have found a better replacement for Heathe. N’athir will want to train him a bit but…,” She stared into space for a few moments, “ there is something special about him.”

Rolling Rock nodded as he refilled his mug. “So you get three killed and bring me a greenie in exchange? Elora, dear,” he said, adding sugar and milk, “your thieving skills are abhorrent, your scouting instincts and skills suck… I’m really afraid to tell you this, but I don’t think you’re cut out to be anything but a merchant.”

“Hey! My scouting instincts are good!” she argued with him.

“Actually, I agree with her on this one,” N’athir’s voice spoke as he opened the door to the camper and came in.

“Good morning to you too,” Rolling Rock said as he sat back down.

“’Good’ is the operative word here,” N’athir said, pouring himself a small cup of coffee.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Rolling Rock asked pointedly.

“Just a bit, to be polite,” N’athir replied as he sat down. “I wish to train Elora’s new friend. He has the talents; his father was dhijobaines.”

The chief sipped at his coffee. The three of them knew how this would play out. N’athir had been his best friend since Maria had been killed in the streets of the City, their daughter less than a year old. The dhijob had been assigned as bodyguard to Rolling Rock by Shafon, the widely-respected dhijobaines General who had helped the Outlaws leave the City during the Great Emigration.

As a group the Outlaws and Dhijobain had crossed the Devil’s Desert, that yawning, ceaseless pit of sand that sapped the middle lands of Amerigo of any real use. At the end of their journey, N’athir and Rolling Rock had developed a strong friendship, Elora like a niece to the Dhijob. Ever since then they had been constants in each others’ lives, something Rolling Rock appreciated for his daughter’s sake.

He looked at N’athir’s grey eyes, the dhijob returning his gaze blankly.

“You are certain the boy has the talents?”

N’athir nodded calmly, sipping at his cup.

Chief Rolling Rock sighed, looking to Elora.

“What do you know about your new friend?”

Elora finished her first cup of coffee and got up for a second.

“He’s sixteen, he’s looking for his father, he knows a bit about healing, and a lot about gardening,” she poured the coffee into her cup, adding milk and sugar, “oh, and he likes guys.”

“He’s a mono?” Rolling Rock asked.

”I’m not sure, but I did see him making out with a boy,” she explained as she sat down. Her father nodded.

“That might alienate him a bit among the men. You know how weird we can be.”

She rolled her green-blue eyes.

“Yeah, really weird. So is that decided then? Can he join?”

Rolling Rock paused to drink his coffee, N’athir and Elora waiting with bated breath. He considered drawing out the wait, smiling.

“I’ll have to meet him.”

Elora was out the door in two seconds flat.

N’athir sipped at his coffee, he and Rolling Rock silent as they were when Elora was not around.

“You think he is worth admitting?”

N’athir shrugged.

“We’re known for giving people a chance. A sixteen-year-old from the Malmoken has very few of those available in this world.”

Rolling Rock nodded, sky blue eyes calm. How true it was that some of those communes were crippling to people, robbing them of everything of value and leaving them as nothing but spreaders of strange thoughts and ideas. They had known men who were from the Malmoken, the empty shells that they were, all sucked dry of vitality and left to think they would never amount to anything other than the servant of someone else.

How many times had he and N’athir discussed what it meant to be a man? How often had they agreed that whatever it was that the Malmoken and those like them believed, it was ripping away the essence of man and leaving only the husks, all dried and brittle?

He drank from his coffee, looking back to N’athir.

“Maybe this one will be different. Maybe this one can overcome it.”

     

Gamma was woken by Elora shaking him like a terrier with a rat.

“Wake up! Get up! My dad wants to meet you!”

“Huh? Already?” Gamma asked, getting up from the floor and putting his shoes on.

“Yep!” she smiled at him. “Let’s go!” she said, pulling him out into the early morning sun.

Gamma blinked as he walked along with her, the sun in his eyes while around him the people in tents and campers stared at them. He could feel their unvoiced questions like bubbles tracing along his skin.

“I haven’t even washed my face!” Gamma complained.

“It doesn’t matter. Looks and hygiene don’t count for much here.”

They came to a big camper, grey and brown, the blinds still shut against the sun. Elora didn’t even bother knocking. She went straight in, dragging Gamma behind her.

“Daddy, this is Gamma. Gamma, this is Chief Rolling Rock,” she made the introduction.

Gamma looked at the dark face, crow’s feet around the sky-blue eyes and graying hair. He didn’t know what to do, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He bowed as everyone did in the commune.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” he said.

As he came up from his bow he heard Rolling Rock chuckle.

“Gamma, that degree of formality is not needed,” Rolling Rock explained, “take a seat. Do you drink coffee?”

He sat at the table, a booth-like affair.

“I don’t know, sir, I’ve never drank it.”

“I’ll make a cup! If he doesn’t drink it I’ll force feed it to N’athir!” Elora smiled, pouring a fresh cup while N’athir gave her a dirty look.

“Just overlook her over-activity. She’s had two cups already,” Rolling Rock looked to his daughter, “Elora, would you pour me one more cup?”

She took his cup and fixed it along with Gamma’s.

“So, Gamma, Elora tells me you left the Malmoken. Exodus is usually in the Spring. What caused you to leave early?”

“Well… Several things, sir. I’m looking for my father, first of all. I’m also thinking it would be good to get a job before everyone goes out.”

Rolling Rock nodded. “So what are you good at?”

Gamma thought a moment.

“I’ve always worked the fields, and sometimes I’d help in the kitchen. Mostly just washing dishes, but sometimes I’d cook. Oh, I can read too!” he smiled at this one. He knew several people lacked that skill and was eager to prove himself valuable.

Chief Rolling Rock nodded, thinking.

“Are you wanting to join our tribe?”

“Yes, sir,” Gamma replied.

“There are a few rules you need to know and agree to before you enter the tribe, then.”

“What are they?” Gamma asked, looking at his coffee as Elora sat down with them, handing a cup to her father.

“The first rule is, you can’t court my daughter.”

Gamma and Elora glanced at each other, smiling.

“I don’t see the possibility of it happening, sir.”

Rolling Rock smirked. “I thought the same. Secondly, you will be put under N’athir’s charge, as you are still under eighteen. This means you are responsible to him and he is your advocate in the tribe. You will obey him and he will teach you how to behave according to our ways.”

Gamma looked to N’athir, the dhijob calmly returning the gaze.

“Okay,” Gamma agreed, feeling as though this conversation had been had before he arrived.

“And the last one,” Rolling Rock smiled, standing to his feet, “Do you, Gamma, agree to act with honor and respect as long as you are a part of our tribe?” he offered his hand. Gamma smiled and stood to shake his hand.

“Yes, sir, I promise.”

“Welcome home, Gamma,” Chief Rolling Rock said as they sat back down to their coffee, a smile on his face. Gamma returned the smile and the four sat to finish their coffee and chat.

     

The sun was fully awake when Gamma and N’athir left Rolling Rock’s camper. The dhijob led him toward a concession van, red and yellow with sliding windows.

“This is where meals are served,” he said, Gamma watching as men and women, kids and young adults all stood in line or sat at collapsible tables and chairs. They drank coffee or ate cereal, had juice and pancakes and bacon. He watched as one grey-headed old man put slices of peach and apple into his oatmeal at a nearby table.

“Are you hungry?” N’athir asked, watching the crowd, not Gamma. From his stomach he felt a hunger cry out, wanting to be sated.

“Yeah, those pancakes look good,” he said. Without words N’athir led him to the line, the two of them silent in the morning murmurs around them.

It seemed to promise to be a warm day, the sun on Gamma’s skin tingling and darkening the flesh. He drew a deep breath, taking in the smells and stretching out the cricks from sleep.

“So… Is a tribe similar to a commune?” he asked N’athir after a few minutes of waiting.

N’athir nodded.

“Not too different. We don’t farm, of course, but everyone has a part to play. Some make things, some provide services, those who do neither wash dishes and cook,” N’athir spoke, watching the line as distance between them and the food narrowed.

Gamma chuckled.

“So I’m on dish detail, huh?”

“You are a fast learner,” N’athir smiled, “I’ll be helping you though. Today is my day to wash dishes as well.”

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” Gamma asked, looking to N’athir’s pale face.

The dhijob blinked a bit, then gave a small smile. “Sometimes we do things for subtle reasons.”

Gamma was about to ask what he meant when N’athir gestured for him to tell the smiling woman at the window what he wanted for breakfast.

“Oh, good morning,” he said.

“Good morning to you too,” she smiled, “You look new. What’s your name?”

“I’m Gamma,” he offered his hand to her to shake. She laughed as they shook.

“I’m Lisa. What would you like for breakfast, hon?”

“Pancakes and bacon, please.”

Lisa called out the order to a black-haired girl, the younger lady taking a plate from a stack of clean dishes and plating up three pancakes and some bacon.

“Erick will get your drink at the other end,” Lisa told him.

“Thank you, Miss Lisa,” Gamma smiled as he went to the other end of the concession van where a ruddy teen with light brown hair had his plate.

“Orange juice, apple, coffee, water?” he asked.

“Er, water, please,” Gamma replied, taking his food and a glass of water.

“Silverware and syrup’s on the table over there,” Erick pointed to a low table at the end of the trailer.

“Thank you,” Gamma said, going for the syrup and a fork. As he was grabbing a fork, N’athir came with oatmeal and orange juice, taking a spoon.

“Where would you like to sit?” he asked.

Gamma looked around and chose a spot away from the groups of Outlaws that were laughing and joking as they ate. N’athir followed him and they sat down to eat in silence.

Pancakes were a treat among the Malmoken, syrups and sugars being a rarity among the health-conscious cooks, so Gamma relished the opportunity to eat them. N’athir was cutting into a peach from a bowl on the table to add to his oatmeal. Gamma watched as the dhijob peeled off the fuzzy skin with his pocket knife, then cut sections from the pith, dropping the sliced fruit into his bowl.

The morning sun watched as they ate, both occasionally swatting at the odd fly that bothered their breakfast.

“Is Elora not going to eat?” he asked N’athir after a while.

“She and her father don’t usually eat breakfast. Just coffee for them in the mornings.”

“Oh,” Gamma replied. He bit into his bacon, the crispy meat well-salted and tasty. “So, aside from dish duty, what else am I going to be doing?”

N’athir finished a bite of oatmeal, sipping from his orange juice before answering.

“After you wash the morning dishes, we will gauge what you know, and decide from there. Is there anything in particular you want to learn to do?”

Gamma munched on another pieces of bacon, thinking about all the books he had read, the conversations with Rumi about herbs and medicines. For a moment he wondered how Rumi was handling his absence, if he already missed him.

“I could learn more about healing…I don’t know though…”

N’athir’s slate grey eyes looked into the steel-blue of Gamma’s.

“Hmm… If that’s what you want,” he spoke at last. He ate the rest of his meal at leisure, the tables around them slowly emptying as dirty plates and cups were stacked on an empty table.

At length Gamma and N’athir finished their meal and took their dishes to the stacks.

“Grab a load,” N’athir instructed, hefting a heavy stack of plates. Gamma followed suit, carrying a stack around the concession van where several deep tubs of clean and soapy water stood waiting.

They tossed the dirty dishes in a tub of soapy water and went back for the rest of their chores, repeating the process until they were ready to wash, rinse, and dry.

N’athir washed while Gamma rinsed and put away the clean dishes on a table. Erick eventually showed up and started carrying the clean stacks back into the concession van.

“Less than an hour this time,” N’athir noted after they finished, “Good time.”

“Now what?” Gamma asked.

“Meditation.”

     

Gamma had never meditated. The Malmoken preferred prayer, so they had never even mentioned the word.

Now, as he and N’athir sat cross-legged on a blanket in a grove of pine trees, he tried to focus on his breathing rather than the memories of his last private moments with Rumi. The smell of the evergreens reminded him of the feeling of Rumi’s skin under his own, stealing his concentration every time he tried to focus.

N’athir, meanwhile, seemed oblivious to every small shift Gamma made as he tried to gather his awareness on his breathing. The dhijob’s eyes were closed, a light breeze playing with Gamma’s shaggy hair while he watched his advocate.

How does he do that?He wondered, slowly focusing on his own in and out breathing, feeling his diaphragm push and pull the air from his lungs. For a few moments he felt as though his body had let go of anxiety and stress, for a few beautiful seconds he could feel the trees around him, N’athir’s solid presence before him. It reminded him of the day in the commune, the world around him clicking into place.

Then N’athir opened his eyes, breaking Gamma’s reverie. A smile flickered across N’athir’s face. “I see you have gotten to that place before, through a different means.”

“Huh?” Gamma’s steel-flecked eyes questioned the dhijob. N’athir chuckled.

“I felt you become aware. You still don’t know how to do it at will, but you’re further along than I thought. Good.”

“I don’t understand, N’athir.”

“It’s alright. You will understand in time. Let’s try aqmathe now,” he said, offering his hand. Gamma did the same, each placing their left hand over the other’s heart.

“Remember, just pay attention to your feelings.”

Gamma closed his eyes, immediately feeling a rush of heat and nausea hit the bottom of his gut. He dropped his hand from N’athir’s chest and stared at him.

“Why are you so angry?” Gamma asked, then clapped his hand to his mouth. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair to ask.”

N’athir simply blinked, taking his hand off Gamma’s heart. “Sorry to frighten you.”

“It’s okay… Was I doing it right?”

“Yes,” N’athir nodded his head. “So… he was a poet then?”

Gamma’s brows knitted in confusion.

“The one you still desire. The one you love.”

“Oh…,” Gamma replied, “No… a healer.”

N’athir nodded, seeing that Gamma didn’t want to open up. A fine conundrum he thought, neither of us feels safe enough to open up.

“Should we try aqmathe again?” Gamma asked, N’athir gesturing for him to get off the blanket so that he could fold it up.

“Go find Elora. She has some mischief, I’m sure.”

“Oh,” Gamma linked, feeling as though he had done something wrong. After a few seconds, N’athir looked up.

“You are free to go,” he said, gazing at Gamma with his mask of calm.

“Okay,” Gamma took a step, shook his head, then waved goodbye to N’athir. The dhijob watched the boy walk away, wondering at the friendliness Gamma showed. As he finished folding the blanket, he thought about the distance between him and everyone else. He had always assumed that it was because people were afraid of him, but now, as they grey-flecked head of brown hair receded, he realized that he had never waved goodbye to anyone.

He had never even said goodbye to her…

     

The sun was almost straight up in the azure sky, the camp bustling around Gamma as he scanned the crowd for Elora. In the shade of the trees he saw men and women sitting, some crafting jewelry from string and metal, others writing on loose sheets of paper. Here and there guitars were strummed, fiddles were plucked.

For a moment, Gamma wished that he was back at home, working in the gardens or swimming in the river. Everyone here seemed to know each other, and even though he received smiles from most everyone he passed, the most he could do was smile back while he looked to the ground.

He didn’t know how to play an instrument. Since he was a boy he had been forbidden from learning to weave, and he only knew how to write about what he saw and did; he was pretty sure a lot of the writers here were poets or story-tellers. How was he supposed to survive by washing, cooking, and meditating?

“Ah, Gamma!” a voice said beside him. He turned to see Miss Lisa smiling at him, several loaves of bread in her arms. “Lunch will be served in about an hour.”

“Okay, thank you, Miss Lisa,” he said. “Oh!”

She paused to look at him. “Yes?”

“Do you know where Elora is?”

She thought for a few seconds, green eyes looking up. “There is a bridge down the road. She might have gone fishing with some friends.”

“Okay, thanks!”

“No problem! Don’t forget about lunch!” she called out to him as he took of down toward the bridge she had mentioned.

“I won’t!” he smiled back at her, following the dusty road that led form the campsite.

     

The bridge was closer than what Gamma had thought, coming into view after only ten minutes of walking. In the distance he saw Elora and two boys their own age sitting on the bridge, each holding a pole and chattering among themselves.

As he neared, he saw one of the boys look up, shaggy brown hair almost covering his eyes.

“Hey, Gamma!” he waved.

“Gregg, right?” Gamma asked, looking into his green eyes. The boy smiled and nodded. “Yup.”

“Hey Gamma! This is Nate,” Elora introduced the sandy blonde boy beside her, he smiling quietly and then cranking the fishing pole in his hands, reeling madly.

“You got one?!” Gregg asked, looking at Nate as he stood up to pull in his catch. Elora, Gregg, and Gamma clapped when he pulled up a fish almost a foot long and heavier than a rock.

“Nice catch,” Elora said, reeling in her line. She got up to help Nate get the fish off his hook.

“I want to keep it. Dad will like it,” Nate said. Elora smiled at him. “Alright then. It’s getting close to lunch time. You want to take it to him now?”

Nate smiled, his face glowing with pride. He nodded.

“Alright then. Gregg, Gamma, you gonna come with?”

“I’m gonna stick around here for a bit. Try to catch a fish before lunch. I’d rather that than a sandwich,” Gregg said, staying seated on the bridge.

“I’ll go with you guys,” Gamma volunteered. “See you later, Gregg.”

“Bye guys!” he waved as the three of them walked back to camp.

“So where are you from?” Nate looked to Gamma, his eyes a darker green than Gregg’s.

“I grew up in the Malmoken commune,” Gamma answered. Nate nodded, holding the line to keep his fish from snapping the pole with its weight.

“What was it like?”

Gamma shrugged. “It was alright, I guess. I worked in the gardens and orchards most days. Lived in a teepee for the past four years.”
“Wow,” Elora looked at him, “some of us sleep in tents during warmer months, but you stayed in a teepee during the Winter too?”

Gamma nodded. “We kept a fire going. It stays warm if you manage it right.”

Nate watched his fish flop a bit as it drowned in the air.

“Did you have many friends?”

“I grew up with three other boys. Three of us are the same age, one is two years younger.”

“So why did you leave?”

Gamma drew a deep breath. Why is it always so hard to talk about this?

“Well, when a boy turns sixteen, he has to leave the Malmoken. Part of their religion.”

Nate nodded. “Was it hard to leave?”

Rumi’s face, lit up by a smile, crossed Gamma’s mind. “Not really,” he lied.

“It would be hard for me to leave home…,” Nate drifted off. Elora put a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “It’s just a part of growing up,” she smiled to him.

Nate nodded, face blank. “You’re right.”

In his gut Gamma felt something weird, but before he could focus on it Elora giggled and pointed to two squirrels that were bickering at the foot of an oak tree. The three of them watched the argument for a few moments before the rodents realized that they had an audience and ran up different trees.

“They’re so bitchy to each other,” Elora smiled.

The trio walked into camp, Nate leading them toward a camper made on the bed of a large truck. He walked up the steps to the door, then turned around.

“I had fun fishing, Elora. Thank you for inviting me.”

Elora smiled.

“Anytime, Nate. I’m glad you could get out for a while. Tell your dad I said to hurry up and get better.”

Nate grinned. “Alright. It was nice meeting you, Gamma. I’ll see you guys later.” He waved goodbye as he went inside the camper.

Elora turned and took Gamma by the arm. “He’s a good kid.”

“Aren’t we the same age?” Gamma chuckled.

“Maybe… Nate has had it a bit rough. His mom died two years ago, when he was thirteen, and his dad has been sick for a few months now.”

“What’s wrong?” Gamma asked.

“Nobody can figure it out. N’athir thinks it’s ‘psychological’. I think the old man is about to kick it.”

“Why do you think that?”

Elora shrugged.

“I dunno. Do you ever just have a feeling about something?”

Gamma nodded. “I think I follow you.”

Elora chuckled. “It’s alright. Let’s go get something to eat.”

They walked toward the concession van where Gamma and N’athir had eaten breakfast.

As they neared, they saw another line queuing up, groups of Outlaws talking amongst themselves.

“How many people are in the Tribe?” Gamma asked, curious. Elora thought for a bit.

“Seventy-two, now that you’re in.”

Gamma nodded. “That’s a lot… There were only thirty-two in the Malmoken.”

A giggle from Elora.

“Well, most people don’t really make a god their point of focus…,” she trailed off, unsure as to how to finish her thought. Gamma felt a twitch in his stomach.

“I can’t believe I’m hungry again,” he said, “I sat for an hour after washing dishes, then came and found you”

Elora smiled, her green-blue eyes sparkling.

“I’m going to be helping you wash dishes tomorrow.”

A smile crossed Gamma’s dark face.

“Nice. I enjoy being around you and N’athir.”

“Yeah, well… You haven’t really made many friends yet,” she grinned at him.

“Fair enough. But you two are my first friends outside of the commune.”

Elora’s eyes met his steel-blue ones.

“Did you have any other friends besides the three boys you grew up with?”

“No,” Gamma shook his head, “I’ve never really felt the need to make friends with any of the other kids…,” he thought for a bit. “Actually, I think you’re the first friend I’ve had who is a girl.”

Elora laughed at this, her laughter deep and hearty.

“Really? Wow…,” she grinned. “I thought all monos were close to girls.”

What exactly is a mono, and why do so people seem to know so much about them? I’ve never really understood the term all that well.”

Elora’s sea-blue eyes widened a bit.

“I thought you knew from earlier… Well, a monosexual, or mono, is a person who likes others of the same sex. The reason people know about them is because some famous people in the Outlaw world are monos. It’s common among the dhijobain too.”

“So what are they famous for?” he asked.

Elora looked around them at the people in line.

“Let’s go sit at a table for a bit. The line isn’t moving anyways.” She led him to a free table where they sat.

“Okay, first of all, you need to know that not everyone likes monos. Some people think they’re, I dunno, dirty or something,” she spoke in a slightly hushed tone.

“Yeah, that’s what the Great Spirit said,” Gamma spoke.

She cocked her eyebrows at him. “Well, wait… If that’s what you believe, why were you making out with that dude yesterday?”

Gamma smirked. “The Great Spirit doesn’t like men, so I never quite cared about what he said.”

“Oh,” Elora nodded, “Makes sense.

“Anyways, what I was saying… The dhijob who helped the Tribe escape the City, Shafon, he is mono. Dad told me when I was younger, when I heard some men in camp trash-lip him for not leading the dhijobain to destroy the Municipality.”

“Why didn’t he? Mom always said the City was an awful place to live.”

Elora gave a small smile.

“He had a lover, and all they wanted to do was build a cabin far away from everyone else.”

Gamma nodded, remembering how he used to dream about living with Rumi. He felt a slight prick of homesickness, wondering if Rumi even really missed him.

“You okay?” Elora asked.

“Yeah,” he looked up, smiling. “So who else should I know about?”

“Let’s see…,” Elora thought a moment. “Oh, there is a popular band, Trancematic 5000. One of their singers is mono, and all the men love her.” She blinked, “Kinda funny, really.”

“Well… Men aren’t the brightest…,” Gamma shrugged. Elora snorted a chuckle.

“That’s true. My dad’s friend Mamma Don is mono. Very classy Sativa Lord. Always dressed in a white suit, very polite, suave…,” she sighed, then blushed. Looking both ways, she leaned in to tell him, “If Mamma Don liked women, I’d so make out with him.”

She giggled as she blushed, “Don’t tell anyone!”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s as old as Daddy!”

“Wow…,” Gamma thought about Chief Rolling Rock’s grey hair. “But your dad is kinda good looking.”

Elora giggled. “Gregg said the same thing once.”

“Shaggy-hair Gregg?”

Elora nodded.

“He’s mono?”

“Yeah, but he won’t admit it.”

His brows pursed.

“How do you know then?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes, you just know.”

He nodded.

“So, is there anyone here who would hate me if they knew I’m… mono?”

She tapped her lips thoughtfully.

“The only thing I know for sure is to just not broadcast it. One of the rules around here is no hurting anyone for any reason, so you don’t have to worry about that, but some guys will shun you if they know, and a few of the boys might harass you about it.”

Gamma nodded, then stopped.

“Wait, what about N’athir?”

Elora giggled. “I thought I told you he’s mono?”

“Oh…. If you did, I didn’t remember.”

She smiled as she looked up. “Oh, the line is moving. Let’s go!”

     

Sandwiches and fruit were served for lunch, the only dishes being the cups used for water and tea.

“I gotta go help Miss Lisa,” Gamma said after he and Elora finished eating.

Elora’s brows laughed as she shook her head. “No you don’t. Lisa and her crew takes care of the lunch shift.”

“Oh, Well, what do I do now?”

“What do you mean? You have all day free, aside from dishes and anything N’athir requires you to do.”

Gamma nodded, looking away. This was not what he had expected. With the Malmoken, everyone worked at least half the day, but here it was like working wasn’t work. Miss Lisa enjoyed her job, it was apparent from the way she smiled and kept busy. Even now she was wiping down her tables, waving goodbye to various people as they walked away.

He remember the musicians playing in the shade, the writers entranced as pens would trace the papers.

“So what do you want to do?” Elora asked.

“Umm… I don’t know, really. What is there to do?”

“Well,” Elora said, “We could go fishing, hiking… We could go see if Gregg wants to smoke, or go harass N’athir.”

Gamma nodded.

“Let’s see if Gregg wants to go for a hike.”

An hour later Gamma, Elora, and Gregg were walking along the dirt road, far past the bridge where Gamma had found them fishing earlier. In the distance was a low mountain, more like a high hill or ridge. Elora had decided they would hike up and smoke a bowl of Sativa, and while Gregg had come willing he was already whining.

“Dear god, it’s gonna take another hour to get there!”

“So? It’s a nice day for a hike. Quit your bitching. I brought canteens for us and some apples.”
“At least you were considerate this time,” Gregg laughed, then turned to Gamma, “the last time we went on a hike she forgot the munchies. It sucks to have cottonmouth and nothing to drink.”
Gamma smiled. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Oh yeah!” Gregg grinned, “You’re still a weergin!”

Elora rolled her eyes.

“Gregg, give it up. You’re not going to get ‘weergin’ into the dictionary.”

“You never know! Emily says the memes spread like wildfire on the grid.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not on the grid, are you?”

Elora chuckled.

“What is a ‘weergin’?” Gamma asked.

“Someone who has never smoked Sativa. Keep up, Gamma!” Gregg smiled at him, green eyes light in the sun.

They laughed as they continued down the dusty road, the Summer warmth soaking into Gamma’s bones. For a brief moment he felt pangs again for the Malmoken fields and the sound of familiar voices, the weight of fishing spears in his hand.

“It’s a nice day,” Gamma said at last, trying to keep focused on the happiness he felt at being in the tribe. Elora and Gregg nodded as they walked.

“This is a great place to camp. Not looking forward to moving in September though.”

“Moving? Where to?”

Elora spoke up.

“We all leave this place and head toward Mehiqo, further south. It’s warmer and the people aren’t tied to the Municipality.”

“How much control does the Municipality have?” Gamma asked.

Gregg laughed.

“They just make the rules. We Outlaws just ignore them,” he smiled.

Elora rolled her eyes, “In so many words, he’s right.”

“It’s just weird to me,” Gamma said, “we never talked about the Municipality in the commune.”

“Did you guys ever have Gunners come through?”

“Gunners?”
Gregg smiled. “I guess not.”

“Enforcers of the peace. They are the only people allowed to carry firearms,” Elora explained.

Gamma nodded. “We never had them.”
“Probably because you guys don’t have valuables,” Elora snorted.

“Yeah… ‘a lack of materialism decreases ones enemies’,” Gamma quoted a line from one of his old books.

“What’s materialism?” Gregg asked.

“It’s when you want a lot of things,” Elora replied.

“But,” Gregg scratched his chin, “things make life easier.”

“And people covet you for having an easier life,” Gamma replied, remembering the familiar arguments.

“What does ‘covet’ mean?”

“It means to want what someone else has,” Elora explained again.

Gregg thought for a moment.

“Well of course they want things to make life easier. It’s just being smart!”

Gamma paused in his memory as he looked to Gregg’s green eyes. This argument was not quite as common.

“But… Having things ties you down to the world…”

Gregg’s face was blank. “And? Why would I want to leave this place anytime soon?” he motioned to the countryside around them, the ridge in the distance.

In his mind, the words that normally came easily were stilled. No answer came to the surface.

“I… don’t know.”

The trio walked in silence for a while, Gamma’s mind realizing that a piece of his old home had been ripped away. The Great Spirit in the sky had never cared about him because he was a man, thus inferior, not able to comprehend the spiritual. All of his life he had been taught to be deprived of luxury, of nice things, because it would distract him from the spiritual side. Now he wondered if maybe Gregg knew something he didn’t.

“I’m glad it’s such a nice day,” Elora spoke at last.

“Hmm,” Gamma mused, looked at the road.

“What is it?” Gregg asked.

“This road looks similar to the one I was tranqed on last night.”

“Tranqed?” Gregg looked to Elora, eyes furrowed by questions. Her ocean-blue eyes looked to the ridge they were approaching. “Have we climbed this before?” she asked.

“A few years back, yeah. Elora, did you tranq the weergin?”

“That’s not a word, Gregg.”

“You’re evading the question.”

Gamma smiled as they bickered back and forth like he had so many times before with his friends. He remembered the diatribes he and Rumi had exchanged when they had been younger, before they had kissed.

Memories became doubt, questioning himself about his choices. He had jumped right into Chief Rolling Rock’s tribe without a second thought, and while he had enjoyed the first day, what was it going to be like to face his first night without Rumi’s presence?

“Hello? Eaarth to Gamma!” Elora’s dark face, lit by a smile, crowded out his thoughts.

“Oh, sorry. Just thinking. How long is it to the top?” he looked to Gregg.

“Not very long. I figure we can spend an hour smoking and be back to camp by dinner time.”

“That’s good; Gamma has dish detail tonight,” Elora said.

“Like I said before, I’m awesome,” Gregg smiled. Elora and Gamma chuckled at him as they began to hike up the ridge, the boughs of pine trees high above. Pine needles were a brown-rust mattress on the slope, some patches loose and without traction.

They slipped their way toward the crest, sometimes crawling up steep sides until after a half-hour they were sitting on a semi-flat ledge near the top. While Gamma caught his breath from a few slips Elora pulled out a canteen and drank from it, handing it to Gamma when she was done.

“Let’s light it up!” she said to Gregg. He smiled as he pulled what looked like a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and gave it to Elora.

“Ladies first,” he said.

Elora took it and looked at the cigarette for a bit.

“Um… Gregg… How do I smoke sativa without a lighter?”

He blinked a few times. “Did you not grab one from somebody?”

“Uh, no. I thought you would bring one.”

Gregg groaned, “Geezus, Elora. We can’t smoke. My lighter died after my wake and bake.”

Elora handed the cigarette back to Gregg, her face as neutral as possible. “Thank you for ruining the afternoon, Gregg. It’s all your fault now that Gamma is still a weergin.”

Gregg’s face lit up. “See?! It does catch on!”

     

Most of the tribe had already eaten by the time they returned to camp. Elora and Gamma went through the dinner line while Gregg went to find his older brother. They had just sat down when N’athir walked over to join them.

“You remember that you have dish duty, Gamma?”

“Yes, sir,” Gamma replied.

The dhijob nodded, grey hair standing out against the gathering dark. “Afterwards, meditation and then sleep.”

As he walked away Elora chuckled and shook her head.

“That sucks for you. Gregg was getting a lighter for us to smoke that joint. I guess you keep your weed virgin status.”

Gamma shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe I’ll give Gregg another chance to take it later. I’m not sure I’m ready to smoke.”
Elora’s eyes popped wide.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t even think to ask you. Sativa is common with us, so I forget that some people have never or may not want to smoke.”

“It’s alright. I just need to think about it. I realized today just how much things have changed and I just want to think on it.”

He took a bite of the salad Miss Lisa had made with the spaghetti dinner. They ate in relative silence, both tired from climbing down the ridge and walking back to camp. Afterwards Gamma worked with N’athir on the dinner dishes, Elora saying goodnight as he followed N’athir to his camper.

The camper was probably no longer than sixteen feet, a small grey and white affair with an awning stretched over a makeshift patio. Stepping inside, Gamma saw a small sofa and kitchenette. N’athir walked to the sofa and lifted a cushion to show a cubby where was hidden the blanket they had used earlier that day for meditation.

He walked back to the patio and laid the blanket down, he and Gamma sitting for meditation. As Gamma followed his breathing, muscles relaxing free of their stress, he let go of his thoughts.

Before he knew it, they were done, and he was laying down for the night on N’athir’s sofa, the dhijob sleeping in his bedroom.

I wish you were here, Rumi Gamma thought as he traced the stubbled jawline of his face with the back of his hand. Sitting on the top of the ridge had reminded him of how often he and Rumi had explored the countryside together, the hours alone they had spent following the river or roaming the fields of tall grass.

That night he dreamt of pine trees and Rumi’s dark, naked skin.