(I will be posting in pieces as I write please support and enjoy this new writer......pp1-2.5)
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HONDA'S FATE IS DECIDED
The council leader raised his staff to signal he was about to speak.
“I am utterly shocked at the inept, unskilled actions you have displayed in what should have been our most memorable and enjoyable occasion. Your actions instead of saving lives and restoring order have led to the loss of life. For one regarded so highly as to be in the position of overseer; I cannot imagine how you could have acted with such reckless, foolish abandon“ he paused. “You are to make preparations for fitting into human existence and in so doing you are to ensure that you bring no attention to the Honza people or our existence.”
It was nothing less than she had expected, but what was until now simply a concept in her head - the idea of being banished - had now become a practical reality. She had tried imagining that these notions did not apply to her life situation. She was merely observing someone else, experiencing in a very limited way what they might be feeling. But now forced to face this harsh reality and unable to keep the composure she had assumed at the beginning of proceedings, hot tears flowed heavily and fast down her cheeks betraying the depth of her sorrow.
He continued. “You are to be outcast for 12 seasons, we assume you agree.” He then struck the ground hard five times with his staff to indicate the end of the meeting. The crowd left slowly in subdued mood.
Having agreed, Honda transformed her appearance and within a few moon days had learnt what she believed to be the most important customs for her alternative life. She was allowed a small send off by family members only.
LEAVING DO
Mimka was the first to walk in, he was Hondas favourite cousin. He took one look at her and burst out laughing, it appeared that his huge stomach was also chuckling as it moved up and down in his mirth.
“I look ridiculous” said Honda “I hate this straight hair and the colour is ugly”
“You always yearned for change”, he said smiling and handed her a gift he thought she might find useful in her new existence. It was a can of Heinz baked beans. Honda rolled her eyes up at the irony.
Another guest had entered. This was Honda's brother, Holo. He too noticed how odd she looked but declined any commentary so as not to hurt her feelings.
“So you are all set then for this new adventure of yours?” he handed her a pair of green socks he had managed to acquire from a trader.
“They are used for the feet as the temperature is not always agreeable” he explained.
Honda thanked him and looked them over with great curiosity.
“Have you decided on an occupation yet?” asked her sister
“I’ll have to come up with something soon” Honda replied, in truth she was pondering two possibilities that would allow her to at least use some of her skills, but she thought it best not to share that bit of information.
Before long the tiny dwelling was filled with gifts. Her family was thankful that the penalty for her crime had not been stiffer and made her last evening as merry as they possibly could with overflowing drinks; Teradaxyl on the bone and assorted fruits bought locally and afar. There was a real closeness that Honda cherished and she soaked herself in the warmth, love and generosity of her family.
TWO
FEBRUARY 2037
A newspaper was left lying to one side— Brooke listless and trying to pass time just glanced at the all too familiar pictures and headlines ‘food riots now contained’; ‘civil disobedience initiatives are working says MP’, ‘poverty crimes at its lowest in 5 years’, What rubbish! she thought. In truth the homeland was now worse than a third world state but no one was admitting it – certainly not the self serving MP’s in government. The new civil disobedience initiatives were creating a burgeoning growth sector that was the military police and it was successful for the sitting government. The public safety minister was beaming proudly as he shook hands with the military police head. Too listless to read further and not wishing to view any more of their smug faces she binned the paper.
Today the streets as if taking a breather for Holy Communion was peacefully quiet. Brooke was in her office. She was collating notes on her latest case and was anticipating the arrival of a fellow professional. She had placed folders on her desk in batches according to colour and number sequence. This was the biggest case of Brooke’s career and she was enlisting help from an uncommon source. Brooke’s closest colleague had cautioned against this invitation believing it to be sheer fancy at best or at worst career suicide. Her guest, soon to arrive: Honda, was a government certified Psychic.
Brooke was extremely attractive and was once engaged to an equally handsome suitor. An observer’s account told us how the engagement ended:
“There was huge commotion of lorries, people, soldier jeeps, and cars amongst a convulsion of protestors with banners. The streets were heaving with people of all creeds, when a scream was heard that soared above the noise and chants. The soldiers piled in that direction throwing people aside like they were no more than heavy trash cans, many people fell to the ground too weak to resist such force, tripping over others where there was no room to manoeuvre. At the centre of attention was a man who lay on the pavement with a stab wound – Brooke’s suitor was attending this man. A soldier barked an order for him to “move!” Fearing the flow of blood from the man’s wound would increase he declined. The soldier then took the butt of his rifle and landed him a deadly blow to the head. He slumped down on top of the man he was tending, his life extinguished.”