Chapters:

Chapter 1 & 2

Chapter One

The Village

“Let’s recite the village law,”

“By one we die

By two, we live

All connected in this village to give

Give work, give heart

And most of all

Never depart!”

“Well done! You are all dismissed!” The instructor announced loudly against the sound of chairs dragging through the dirt floor of the school. “Remember to report to the town council in two days to receive your assignments.  Good luck!”  Malcolm was amongst the first of the graduates to leave the classroom.  Man, I hate that song!

 His was a short walk, and really so was everyone else’s. The village was not big.  He passed the wooden shops of the baker, the fishmonger, and the farmer, all about to close for the day.  I hope I won’t end up in one of these god-awful shops!  Malcolm thought to himself as he kept his head down and made his way home.

Malcolm reached the old rickety wooden door to their small living “shed,” as he called it.  His nose was immediately assaulted by cabbage stew burning on the open hearth.  His family had been assigned one of the lowest ranking cottages, lowest ranking, meaning smallest.  The main floor room consisted of a hay floor covering, a stone hearth to keep warm at, and a table and chairs.  His mother, Diana, also had a cabinet of small trinkets that her parents had given her from the lost world beyond the village.  Malcolm had always loved looking at that cabinet full of interesting-lost things.  There was a weighty ball with forest and reindeer that filled with snow.  There was a stand- up clock that didn’t work and a very ancient-looking compass. At the back of the cabinet was a rectangular plastic box that his mother had called a radio. When he was just a boy, his mother would bring it out to him and let him play with its circular knobs and listen to the rhythmatic sound of the static.

  “Malcolm!  Oh, good, you’re home!  You can help me finish up the laundry deliverers!  How was your last day?”

“Oh, Ma, it was just as boring as every other day…”

“That’s nice, dear,” she said as she dropped a twenty-pound pile of someone else’s clothes on him.  “Now be a good dear and iron those out for me.  The table is already set up in the corner.”

Malcolm rolled his eyes, not looking forward to the mountain of work that had just literally been thrust upon him.  He fumbled his way to the hearth where the hot iron was sitting and began his assigned work.

“You know, Malcolm, you shouldn’t be so grumpy all the time! Cheer up! The day after tomorrow is assignment day! You’ll finally know your place in the village!  And…”

“Yeah, Ma.  I guess you’re right.  I should be excited.”  But he couldn’t be. There was nothing in the village that he wanted to do. He had always felt like that.

Malcolm slipped on his old and faded blue school pants and buttoned up his off- white shirt.  This was the best he could do.  Malcolm leaped down from the loft, with his old leather bag strapped around his shoulders.  He opened the door to the cabinet and very carefully removed the ancient compass.  He wiped the dust from its face, revealing a beautiful copper casing, handmade notches, and an arrow made of tin pointing due north.  It still worked.  Malcolm placed the compass in his pants pocket and headed towards the door.  He felt a sense of relief having a piece of the past with him today as he was told what his future would hold.

“Good luck, son!” Diana waved goodbye to him from the door.

“Thanks, mom!”

         She as really the only thing he liked about this stupid crowded wood-chipped village!  Malcolm walked down the narrow street outside of his house and then stepped out on to the village’s main road where most of the assigned shops were.  He walked past the bakery, fishmonger, and the farmer’s stale, taking in the wonderful smells of the freshly baked morning bread, the sea salt applied to the fish, and the summer berries newly picked by the farmer.  The bouquets were tormenting him to the point that his feet changed their trajectory.  He had to make a stop.

Ding! Ding! The door widened, and the baker came out from the back of the bakery with a very red face.  Baking was hard work!

“Ah, Malcolm!  Let me check if your family has any credits…” Credits!  Something else he hated about this village!  You can’t just buy things at the shops!  As they were called, the food workers delivered exact quantities to each household based on daily needs.  Everything was so controlled, so lifeless!

“You’re in luck, Malcolm, your family, has one extra credit for today, so what would you like?” Lucky, indeed! Malcolm thought as he ordered a freshly baked chocolate croissant.

Malcolm hurried down the street, past the school to the town council building. He was almost late, which was an absolute sin in the village.  Do you know what else was a sin? Eating in public!  The councilors banned it because people started to want other people’s food, making them go to the food shops more.  And with such a short supply of food and barely any credit allotted to the poor and middling folk, no one could buy food just for the simple reason of enjoyment and pleasure.  So Malcolm devoured his precious chocolate croissant and opened the door to the town council building.  His future awaited him!

Malcolm hadn’t been in this building since his first year of life training.  He forgot how high the ceilings were and how the light danced off of the beautifully framed windows.  The wonderful smell of fresh bread and other treats followed him into the building. The council members had their own baker in the building. An unexplained privilege!

“Sir!” A tall, austere looking man nudged him from his trance.

“Oh yes, sorry I…”

“Right this way, sir”  The tall, austere man guided him down the hall and opened two large dark green doors.  Light, color, and warmth beamed from the room.  It was an immense ballroom where the council meetings were generally held.  But instead of very old boring people, Malcolm saw all of his classmates standing around talking excitedly about the positions they’d hoped to get during the ceremony today. What a boring lot of shiftless…

“Malcolm!  A female voice yelled from across the room. It was his only friend in the world, Roslynn.  Malcolm smiled and pushed his way through the crowd to get to her. Just as he was about to reach her, the town council music began, and the very old and boring men and women of the council emerged from behind a curtain.  The tall, austere man who had interrupted him in the hallway also appeared and stepped towards the gathering crowd.  

“Is height a prerequisite to be a member of the town council?” Malcolm whispered his silly question to Roslynn.  She laughed out loud- too loud and was immediately hushed.

Rosylnn punched him directly in the stomach in jest. “Always getting me in trouble, friend!”

“Welcome to the beginning of the rest of your lives! From this day forward, you are truly members of the village!  Shall we recite the village law?”

Let’s not!  Malcolm thought as he stared down at his once brown, now faded and flaky leather loafers, willing himself to ignore the annoying meditations of all in the room.

“Give work, give heart

And most of all

Never depart!”

“Right, let’s begin with announcing the assignments.  Lucy Buttonsworth, you will be our newest school master’s assistant.  Jack Donaldson, you will be assisting the arborist.  Graham Rotterbelly, please report to the minister.  What a name!  Minister Rotterbelly! Ha!

Fred Matterston, you will be reporting to the protection squad.  Roslynn Thomers, please report to the carpenter’s bench.”

Roslynn, a carpenter?  That should be interesting.  Malcolm examined his friend’s face for her response.  She seemed to welcome the idea of working with wood.  

“Malcolm Jitterwood,  please report to the fishmonger…” A sudden change spread across Malcolm’s face as if a pile of bricks had just landed directly on his stomach.  This was undoubtedly a blow to his system!  The job of fishmonger was known to be the most boring, smelly, oily, yucky job in the whole village!

“Ok, congratulations again!  You are all dismissed.”

“Someone must not like you!” Roslynn whispered into Malcolm’s ear as the other students started to shuffle out of the room.  Malcolm left the room in a state of shock, ignoring all conversation and dodging the faces of his classmates that were only too ready to ridicule and gawk.  

Malcolm opened the shifty door to his house, and just as he had supposed, his mother already knew what his particularly shameful assignment had been.

“Ha!” Diana greeted him with laughter as he entered their one-room hovel.

You a fishmonger!  Ha! Someone at the town council must not like you very much!”

“That’s what Roslynn said too.” Malcolm moped.

“Well, when do you start your illustrious career as a fishmonger?”

“OHHHAHH!” An uncontrollable moan spilled out of Malcolm, seeping with despair and frustration as he contemplated his future.

 “Tomorrow….tomorrow my life ends!”  

“Oh, don’t be such a drama king!  We need a new fishmonger. Alfy is getting well into his old age.  And why shouldn’t it be you?”

Well, because I’m smart and brave and adventurous and know nothing about fish and don’t care to!  Malcolm couldn’t bring himself to speak his thoughts, no matter how true they were.  He knew how stupid he would sound.

Chapter Two

Fresh Fish

“Fresh fish!  Fresh fish for delivery!” It was Malcolm’s job to yell this all morning into the town square.  How embarrassing!

“Louder, Malcolm! And with more heart, for goodness sake, you’re not selling the plague, you know!”  Yelled old Alfy from just inside his shop door.  It smells like I’m selling the plague!

His job thus far was lowly but straightforward.  He had to yell in the middle of the square so that the food delivery man would get the fresh fish for his morning delivery to all of the village’s families.  Ugh, what a waste of a life!

Poor old Malcolm had endured two full days of smelling like fish, feeling like a fish, and with greasy, slimy hard pieces of scales rubbing off on him.  He’d carried enough fish to break his back, and now he was done!  He couldn’t be a fishmonger!  This job will actually kill me!  He was going to march his fishy self to the town council and ask for a re-assignment. Technically that was allowed, but no one ever did. The village people were too scared that they’d be arrested for laziness, which was a major offense.

But Malcolm didn’t care.   Being arrested would mean that he wouldn’t have to go to the fish monger’s shop every morning.  So, Malcolm stripped himself of his obnoxious rubber fish boots, brown tunic, and puke green apron.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing? The day’s not done yet!” Alfy hassled him.

“Uh, well, it’s done for me!”  Malcolm rushed out of the shop with a big smile on his face.  With that same satisfied smile, he opened the door to the town council building. He was immediately stopped by the tall stern-looking man he had run into just days before.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?”

“Well, no, I...”

“Wait here.”  The man pointed at a small wooden bench in the hallway.  As Malcolm obediently sat down to wait, the determined steam that had carried him to this building was let out.

Malcolm waited and waited on that uncomfortable wooden bench. He wondered if they were making him wait this long in hopes that he would just give up.  He was beginning to gain a reputation as being the village ‘nuisance.’

He couldn’t get comfortable on that hard wooden bench. He tried lying down on his back, putting his feet up, and sitting up straight, but none of these positions were helping.  He was nervous. He brought his grandfather’s old compass, as he always did, and started to fiddle with it.  He opened the clasp of the lid and then closed it over and over….Clasp! Click! Clasp! Click! The motion of the pieces of metal meeting and then retreating mesmerized Malcolm and lead him down a dark trail of angst mixed with determined hope for a better life.

Finally, the giant forest green doors at the end of the hallway opened, and there stood a younger woman in a burgundy tunic, which was by all accounts a sign of her distinction.  

Where did she get a fabric that color?

“Malcolm, is it?  Come in!”  She waved him through the double green doors into a large room lined with bookshelves full of old and dusty books, and one lonely working desk in the corner next to a window open to the village square.  The woman, Ruby, was the town’s treasurer and a member of the council.  She was known to be the youngest and, therefore, the most contentious of the council members.  And her business-like attire and manner complimented her reputation. She firmly closed the door before Malcolm and briskly walked back to her place of authority behind her desk and motioned Malcolm to have a seat on one of the comfortable-looking cushioned chairs in front.  She followed suit.

“What can I do for you, Malcolm?”

“I, uh, well…” Malcolm continued to fiddle with his compass.

“Let me guess you are having trouble with the fishmonger?  Alfy can be difficult to get along with, to be sure, but with time you’ll get used to him.” Believing that she may have solved his issues already, the Ruby got up from her chair.

“Wait, no, no, that’s not it.  Ma’am, I…”

“It’s Ruby.”

“Ok, Ruby.   I can’t be a fishmonger.”  

“How do you mean?”

“There must have been a mistake made or something. I need to be reassigned.”

“We don’t make mistakes,” Ruby stated matter-of-factly.

“Ok, well...” Malcolm hesitated, trying to find the words. Ruby’s confident and authoritative demeanor was curbing his usual determined spirit.   “…I would like to formally request a position change!”  There he had got it out!   Malcolm looked down at his grandfather’s compass, which he was still fiddling with.   Ruby sat back in her chair and looked around the room.  She was thinking.  Ruby’s eyes stopped on Malcolm’s hands as she realized what he had been playing with.

“Ok, Malcolm.  I think you’re right.  I don’t think fishmongering is for you.”  

“Oh, that’s a relief, ma’am.”

“What is that round trinket in your hand?”

“Oh, uh, this thing?” Malcolm held up his copper compass.

Ruby nodded.

“Well, it’s my grandfather’s old compass.  He brought it from the old world when he and his parents left the city.  My mother kept a few of his things, and I guess this is my favorite.  It reminds me that there is a world out there, outside of the village.”

“Hmmm.” Ruby was thinking again.

“We do have an opening in a department that I think might interest you.”

“Ok.”

“How would you like to be our new forager?”

“Forager, ma’am?”

“Yes, forager.”

“I’ve never even heard of that job.”

“We don’t promote it in life training.”

“Ok..?”

“You will be given weekly missions from town council to visit abandoned towns and forage for materials that would be useful to this community, and that cannot be made here.”

Malcolm’s face lite up in surprise and excitement.  This is precisely the kind of job I want!

“Ma’am, I would love…”

Ruby held up her right hand to silence him.

“Now, wait, before your mind takes you to exciting and adventurous daydreams, you have to understand the immense importance and responsibility of this role.  The town council would expect you to keep every mission secret.  You would also have to follow each mission’s instructions to the ‘T.’  Suppose you fail to follow the instructions or wander off on your own. In that case, you will be arrested and likely convicted of Wandering.  If you fail to keep the details of your mission secret, you will be arrested and tried for treason.  So, do you see that this job must be done perfectly?”

“Yes, ma’am.  I can do it!”  

“I believe you can.  Go home and wash off the fishy smell.  A representative from the town council will deliver a package to you with your formal contract and gear.  You will report to me, your supervisor, tomorrow morning for your first mission.”

Malcolm couldn’t believe it!  He actually had an exciting job!

“Yes, thank you, ma’am.  I will be here!”  Malcolm could barely contain his excitement. He leaped out of his chair and happily drifted towards the intimidating green doors.

“Oh, and Malcolm…?”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Call me Ruby!”