Harmonious Hearts 2017 Page 6

  Scarlett reaches for Tracy’s hand under the table and feels him squeeze, rubbing encouraging circles on the top of her knuckles with his thumb. When he lets go, Scarlett stands, casts him an uncertain glimpse, and shuffles toward the line she knows she matches—the red and black, narrow-hipped, testosterone line. Tracy watches after her, shakes his head, and stays where he is.

  “Travis?” the teacher says. “Did you hear me?”

  He takes off his hat, letting his braid down, and mouths to Scarlett, “Who are you?”

  And slowly, her fists balled shyly at her sides, Scarlett breaks away from the boys’ line. She limps stiffly to Tracy’s side, her eyes trained on the floor, until Tracy whispers, “Stand tall.” She straightens up, her shoulders back, her chin up, and entwines her fingers in Tracy’s.

  “Boys,” the teacher says impatiently, setting down her papers and blowing disinterestedly on her nails. “Get in line, please. We don’t have a lot of time left in class.”

  Scarlett cringes and Tracy smiles, holding her hand tightly, his knee bumping the back of her thigh. He clears his throat, ignoring their peers’ sideways looks, and shakes his head.

  “There’s no line for me, ma’am,” he says. “And we aren’t boys. Right, Scar?” He leans in and adds, “What’s your name again?”

  And Scarlett smiles timidly, leaning on his shoulder, her hair in a short blonde braid.

  “Scarlett,” she replies, letting him slip a pink gumball into her mouth.

  “Damn right,” Tracy says. And he blows a lilac bubble.

  MALCOLM SHEARRION is a writer and self-proclaimed crazy cat man from Boston, Massachusetts, who began his hobby-slash-career in the fifth grade with a humble Warriors fan fiction. His interests outside of writing include narwhals, video games, and early 2000s emo bands. He currently resides in muggy, conservative southwest Florida with his parents, younger sisters, and his orange tabby cat. He rarely leaves his house and spends most of his free time working on his stories and chatting with his friends up north.

  Honor Among Thieves

  By Giulia Maggio-Tremblay

  Honor has lived a charmed life since the temple priests took him in as an infant, but that happiness is threatened when sacred offerings begin to go missing. He fears he will be suspected of the thefts and lose his home, just like his friend Ren did. Honor decides to catch the culprit so he can clear his name and Ren’s, and when Honor makes a deal with the thief, it seems like the danger has passed. But Ren has different ideas of how to justly resolve the situation, and his actions force Honor to choose between protecting his sheltered life—or the thief who may have stolen his heart.

  “HONOR!” THE temple boy turned around as a voice hissed to him.

  “Oh, it’s you,” he said, recognizing an apprentice from one of the next village’s temples. Temperance, who hated his name, had said to call him Ren. They weren’t precisely friends—Honor wasn’t sure he had any of those—but they’d met a few times, and Ren was one of the few boys around his age who Honor could talk to. “What are you doing here?”

  But Ren put a hand to his lips, looking around before beckoning him closer. Honor approached. “What’s going on?”

  “No one can know I’m here. It could be dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” What safer place could there be than in this temple, among the wise men who had saved his life when he’d been an infant left on their doorstep?

  “For both of us. Look, I came here to warn you, but I don’t want to do it here where anyone could see us. Is there somewhere we could go?”

  “All right. I guess I know a place.” Honor took Ren to a quiet corner where they were unlikely to be disturbed. “Now, speak.”

  Ren drew in a breath as if determining how to begin. At last he blurted, “I’ve been dismissed.”

  Honor blinked. “You’ve been—what?”

  “They’ve thrown me out of the temple.”

  “But… why? What brought this on?” Though his thoughts asked What did you do? Honor was too polite to voice it.

  Ren knew what he meant, anyway. He shook his head. “I didn’t do anything wrong, but they would not believe me! I don’t know if you’ve heard, but things have been disappearing from the temples. Offerings, mostly, food and drink, but sometimes more than that. They made me leave when things like statuary and gold chalices went missing.”

  “Oh, that! Yes, I heard. But that’s easily explained, isn’t it? Our people say it is the gods favoring us by accepting our food offerings. I haven’t heard of anything else going missing here, but we’ve had ‘quite fortuitous weather,’ I’m told, and it looks like there will be a good harvest this year. The priests are calling it providence.”

  Ren shrugged. “Maybe they just don’t want anyone to know they’ve got a thief. Not only would it be embarrassing for the temple, but others might get similar ideas if they heard that someone got away with it.” Honor frowned and opened his mouth to defend the priests, but Ren continued before he had a chance. “Anyway, my old village thinks the number of children falling ill never decreases because some impertinent wretch—me—has angered the gods by stealing from the temple.”

  The idea was strange—and worrying—enough to divert Honor’s attention. “They’re convinced it’s a human culprit? And they won’t believe you?”

  Ren looked away. “I don’t know who is responsible, but they blamed me. I have lost everything.”

  Sympathy flooded Honor. He couldn’t imagine being forced to leave his home. “Well, surely once the situation continues, they will know it is not you and be forced to admit their mistake.”

  “I am not so sure. They might think I still manage to sneak in, or that someone has just replaced me. Maybe they’ll get rid of their next boy.”

  Honor frowned. “I don’t understand it.”

  Ren reached out to lay a hand on Honor’s arm. His eyes followed the movement before lifting to meet Ren’s gaze. “I wanted to warn you to be careful. The same thing could happen to you.”

  Honor shook his head. “But they are happy about this, here.”

  “That could change. People like to have an easy explanation, something to blame for their misfortunes. Someone to punish when things go wrong. It’s too late for me, but I didn’t want to leave you as unprepared as I was.”

  Honor felt as if he’d taken a step, expecting to feel solid earth beneath him, and encountered only air. His stomach pitched. “What should we do?”

  He shook his head. “Not we. You need to look as innocent as possible in this. I… need to find some way to go on.”

  Honor couldn’t just ignore what he’d learned and hope he would not be accused. “But surely if we find out what is really going on and get some evidence, we can prove our innocence.”

  Ren considered this. “I would like to see the real culprit pay for what he has cost me.” He gave a smile like a shark’s.

  “And then they’ll forgive you and you can go back to the temple again.” And I can stay here, Honor added silently.

  Ren laughed. “I am not sure I will go back. Perhaps they will reward me. I could use the funds to travel. Finally see more of the world beyond the walls.”

  “I want to help. It’s my life that is threatened as well as yours.”

  “You know, it might be helpful to have someone on the inside,” Ren mused. “All right. You can help me catch him. But you must try not to get caught yourself, or we’ll be in quite a bit of trouble.”

  Honor shivered at the thought of being forced to leave his home. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Good boy.” Ren grinned.

  Once they had made hushed plans of how to proceed, Honor guided Ren to the lesser-used exit of the temple. They had decided that, after he left the offering in its designated spot on the altar, Honor should stay and see if he could catch sight of the thief in the act. He would report to Ren during the next days.

  He paused at the threshold, knowing he had spent enough time away from his duties for one day an
d needed to get back soon. But on his way past, instead of leaving immediately, Ren leaned in to brush his lips against Honor’s cheek and murmur by his ear, “See you later.” Then he was gone, leaping down the steps and disappearing. Dazed, Honor brought his hand to his cheek, staring after him, until a distant clang in the temple made him blink and scurry back inside to work. That was more than enough distraction for one day.

  THE FIRST night, Honor waited behind a pillar to see if someone would show. If he perceived nothing and the food was nevertheless gone by the morning, then gods would be a likely explanation. If not, then there would be some validation for the other villagers’ doubts. Night came, and when he finally did notice some disturbance in the peace, Honor soon realized a flaw in his plan. At midnight the chamber was impenetrably dark, and though he could hear what must be the thief, he could not see anyone at all, or anything that was happening.

  The next night, Honor left a taper burning next to the offering to light the thief’s face as they took it. He waited, eager to finally see this daring thief and get some answers. Some way to protect himself and Ren. He heard again the faint footsteps approaching the entrance to the chamber. They paused there, hesitating, coming no farther. After a few tense moments during which Honor held his breath, willing the thief to continue so some part of his curiosity might at last be satisfied, he thought he heard a sigh, and then quiet footfalls receding into the night.

  Honor too couldn’t hold back a frustrated exhalation. Thwarted again! There had to be a way to accomplish what he wanted. He knew now that he would need the thief to be willing to enter the chamber, and he would also need enough light to see by.

  It seemed like the thief had distrusted the change in the room the light represented, so Honor could not just leave a light out again. That meant the light would have to be introduced later on, once the thief was already present. With this in mind, he fashioned a plan and wished for nightfall to come quickly. Soon, night’s darkness and his light would reveal to him what he sought. Soon, he would be safe again.

  SHIVERING IN the dark on another sleepless night, Honor reminded himself that he wanted to find out what was happening to all the disappearing food and drink. That if this kept on, they would likely suspect him first, since it was his job to put out the offerings at their temple. Just like they must have accused Ren for the same reason. By finding the true culprit, he would have some proof of his innocence. Trying to get warm, he stationed himself behind a wide stone pillar and settled in to wait.

  He must have dozed off because he startled awake when the sound of a stifled cough echoed through the stone chamber. Shaking off grogginess, he peered through the darkness toward the altar. He thought he saw a flash of movement in that direction, and then came the sound of the plate knocking lightly against stone. There was what sounded like a sigh of relief and happiness as he heard the thief devour the food and wine as if starving. That might make sense even more than stories of capricious gods. Real human need and suffering is at work here. Still, despite his understanding, he simply could not let things go on as they were. If people began to doubt their mythical explanation of the lost offerings, they would next look to Honor for culpability. And if not, it would mean that they had caught this underfed thief. Honor found that possibility less acceptable than he would have expected.

  He lit the lamp he had brought for this purpose, and light bloomed in the temple. The thief was caught, frozen like a scavenging animal in Honor’s beam, face and hands still full of pilfered food. Also like a wild creature, it looked prepared to bolt. However, Honor found himself unwilling to let this mystery go just yet. “It’s all right,” he soothed, slowly moving closer. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk.”

  He was now near enough to pick out some details of the thief’s appearance. It seemed to be a young person, perhaps as old as he was, barefoot and dusty with long, braided hair and wary eyes. The thief let him come to within a few feet before mutely extending a hand in the signal for “halt.” Obediently Honor sat cross-legged at that spot, and the stranger appeared somewhat appeased.

  The silence stretched, tight and uncomfortable for a moment as Honor waited for the thief to speak. An eyebrow rose expectantly, reminding Honor that he had requested a conversation. There was something proud, almost imperious about that expression. For a moment it made him feel like a beggar asking for an audience with the divine being believed to have accepted the offerings. It was an unexpected feeling, to say the least. And yet, some of his awe stemmed from the similarities between this thief and himself. If he hadn’t been taken by the priests—and hadn’t died from exposure or starvation—he might have looked like this by now. But this person caused trouble for him and for Ren. This kind of scavenging life might still become Honor’s future if he failed to act now. They deserved answers, and this thief deserved a chance to explain itself.

  “Why do you do it?” he asked finally. “Why do you take our offerings?”

  The thief looked at him as if he were the thickest idiot it had ever met. Again, Honor felt small, but he fought that back, clarifying. “Of course I can understand that you are hungry and must eat, but there must be more to it than that. If it was so simple, all the hungry people would take food from the temples all the time. But I’d wager it’s just you who has been plaguing the area.” The thief’s mouth inched upward at one corner, and Honor knew he had guessed correctly. And, considering their interaction so far, he thought he might also know what marked this unfortunate soul from the others as well.

  “Aren’t you afraid?” Honor asked, staring at this thief who, though free, remained to hear his words. “Do you not fear the wrath of the gods like any citizen would?” Do you not fear me? hung unspoken in the air.

  The thief turned away, and Honor thought he would be left without any answer, but the response came, surprising him. “What reason do I have to fear gods, or mortals for that matter?” The voice was rough and quiet, as if it had long gone unused, and appeared male. “They have already taken everything from me, all they can. The only thing I have left is my life, and not eating would deliver that to them anyway. So, really, where is the risk in taking something back from them now? All they can do—all you can do—is kill me for trying to stay alive.”

  As the thief finished speaking and silence descended again, Honor was torn between sympathetic sadness and disappointment. The thief’s reasons were his own, and Honor accepted them. Though a part of him wished he rejected conventional rules for reasons he could less easily excuse, like pure greed or recklessness, Honor conceded that a street urchin likely did not have the luxury of such reasons.

  Now that Honor knew the truth, however, the question was what to do with it. He was still uneasy about the probability of accusations falling on him but found he didn’t want to turn the thief in. The boy burned too brightly, and more than that, Honor felt he understood him. It would be a betrayal to give him up now that he knew this boy’s story. He would live. But how would he eat?

  “I’m sorry,” Honor said finally, and the thief turned back to him, eyes turning wary again. “That life has treated you so unkindly,” he continued and saw him relax slightly. “And”—the thief tensed—“that you cannot continue as you have been. I cannot let you.” The other boy seemed abruptly ready to fight or flee, Honor wasn’t sure which. Trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible, Honor did not move from his spot on the floor. “Please, hear me out. It could be dangerous for me if offerings continue to go missing. But,” Honor emphasized, and saw the boy hesitate, “if you come by tomorrow night and wait for me, I can get you some more food that no one will miss. The people here are not upset yet about the offerings disappearing. But if that changes and I ask you to stop taking from our temple, you will have to go. Agreed?”

  The thief was silent as he moved back in Honor’s direction. Honor’s pulse increased, though he could not have said why. But he stopped well short of Honor, picked up the rest of the offering he hadn’t yet eaten before H
onor had lit him up, and strode cat-quietly toward the way out. He half turned right before he left the room, whispering, “Tomorrow, at midnight, on the back steps. Come alone. And bring plenty.”

  THE NEXT day, as Honor returned from fetching water for the temple, Ren tugged him behind a corner for the previous night’s report.

  “I saw him. I’m meeting with him again tonight. On the steps at midnight.”

  “What? This is wonderful! Now that we can earn his trust it’ll be even easier to make sure he gets what he deserves.”

  He hadn’t really forgotten why they had approached the thief, but hearing Ren say it so directly had Honor pulling free of Ren’s hand on his arm. “I promised I’d be alone. And that I wouldn’t hurt him.”

  Ren waved a hand. “I can hide. It’s not like I’m going to scream for the authorities the second I see him. We’ll wait for the right moment to get him.”

  “Of course,” Honor agreed with a tight smile.

  NIGHT CAME, and Honor made his way to the steps with the remnants of his own share, carefully concealed second helpings of bread and fruit that had weighted his pockets since mealtime. Emerging into the night, he sat on the steps, looking at the stars and wondering at their true provenance—divine or simply natural. Lost in the beautiful mysteries of the sky, he failed to notice the signs of approach until someone stood directly before him. “Hey, Temple Boy,” spoke the voice. “What have you got for me?”

  Of course it was him. Honor looked up, a smile at the ready, but it froze as he took in the fact that the thief was not alone. Around him clustered a group of younger children, each looking about as unkempt as he. Seeing his expression, the thief amended, managing to look a bit sheepish, amused, and challenging all at once. “Or perhaps I should say, for us?”