Outlanders

Chapter 6: Gizzada and Linstead Market

ANNA

MANDESTADT, JEMYA PROVINCE

NEW REPUBLIC

When I step outside the office after five to go home for the day Christoph is right behind me. He reaches my side and changes his pace to match mine. I hold down my panic at his presence, the gentle expression in his gray eyes.

"May I accompany you?" he asks in his most formal citizen, usually reserved for the citizen protection units.

"I have to go to the bakery," I blurt out in a rush, hoping the excuse will free me of his presence. He just nods and continues to walk at my side. I turn left at a side street, thankful for the shade between buildings; even after its peak the sun is strong year-round in the Jemya Province.

"My bakery's on grande rue. I assume yours is elsewhere, if we're turning away from centre ville?"

"You go to Marie's?" I ask despite myself.

"You know it? Best bakery in all of Mandestadt."

I snort, taking a right on to rue de la republique, lined by palm trees, their shadows cutting stripes across the road in the late afternoon sun.

"The best if you like nothing but baguettes and apple tarts. And if you like paying quadruple the price you'd pay in the Old Republic," I retort. Marie's imports apples from the Old Republic for their famous tarts. The heat, humidity, and soil on our island province don't take well to apple trees.

"Apple tarts are my favorite, though," Christoph replies with a self-deprecating grin.

"Of course they are."

"So what's your bakery?"

"Miss Lou's" I tell him without explaining further.

"Never heard of it."

I take a right on another side street and after a few hundred yards another left. Although we're still not far from centre ville, the neighborhood has abruptly changed. Whereas the stucco houses off of rue de la republique are all evenly spaced and painted white, here the houses are smaller, one growing out of the next, with laundry lines crossing the street overhead, connecting them in a web. The street itself is narrower with packed dirt, no palm trees in sight.

I notice Christoph tense at the change. He knows this is an outlander neighborhood. Good. Maybe he'll leave me to my own devices next time. I continue along, ignoring his unease, just until we reach the dusty window in front of Miss Lou's. As usual, the bakery is full, outlanders crowding each table packed into the small space, drinking coffee, eating pastries and gossiping amongst themselves. When we enter, the room grows silent. I walk up to the counter, Christoph at my heels, and see Miss Lou herself at the register. Her hair is pulled back beneath a bright handkerchief, a few dark curls escaping at the sides. Her apron is stained with her work, the sleeves of her dress rolled back, arms dusted with flour.

"I'll have two gizzada and a loaf of hard dough bread, please."

Miss Lou doesn't say a word but nods and pulls out two brown paper bags, subtly letting us know the gizzada are not to be eaten on her premises. I feel the intensity of stares at my back and instead try to focus on the pleasant smells of coconut and cinnamon sugar, of bread rising.

"Them being two crowns, Madame."

I pay and we turn to leave just as an older man at the table to our left mutters out "Dis place ain't for him kind." I stiffen, grabbing Christoph by the arm and make my way out the door as quickly as possible. Did he hear what the man said? Did he understand what it meant?

Neither of us speak on the way back through the outlander neighborhood. Once we make it to the safety of the palm trees on rue de la republique I hand him the bag of gizzada. "Here. They're like coconut tarts. For when you get sick of apple."

He takes the bag and a soft look comes into his eyes, he opens his mouth to speak and I cut him off before he can condemn me. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

If he doesn't report me. If the citizen protection unit does not come for me tonight.

I turn my back to him and start moving before he has a chance to respond.

ABIDA

LUBDENSTADT

OLD REPUBLIC

I wake to the sensation of someone holding me, swaying my body back and forth, and a strange song:

I carry mi ackee

Go a Linstead Market

I carry mi ackee

Go a Linstead Market...

I smile at her voice, the hot sun on my face. When I open my eyes I am in my own bed, my brother sitting in a chair at my side. The song ends abruptly, and I see the weak morning sunlight passing through my only window.

"You OK, Abida?" Hashim asks at the same time as I spit out, "What happened?" through my splitting headache.

Hashim responds to my question first: "I could ask you the same thing - Farid had to carry you home from the Kantine last night, you were out cold."

I blush at the thought of Farid touching me, lifting my body, and am pleased and embarrassed at the same time. I hate myself for it.

"I guess I got dizzy, just a weird spell, and I... fell," I conclude lamely.

My brother looks down, refusing to meet my eyes as he asks, "but you're not... you know..."

"I'm not what?"

"I mean we could take care of it, if it came to that..."

With the pressure behind my eyes seeming to mount by the second, I burst out, "What in the sandstorm are you talking about?"

My brother glances up at my frustration and turns back to his staring match with the floor as he whispers, "Are you with child?"

Now it's my turn to look away as I feel the embarrassment rise like a crushing wave made flesh.

"No!"

"Are you sure that..."

"Yes I'm sure that is impossible because... well I'm sure I'm not, OK?!"

My brother lets out a sigh of relief. "Thought I'd have to kill Farid if it were so, god willing."

A second wave of mortification made flesh arises, drowning out the first. "Please stop talking. And if you tell Farid about this conversation, I'm the one who's going to have to do some killing - so you go and god willing yourself!"

"I guess if you're strong enough to be madder than a freshly trapped djinn at me it means you're feeling better," he grins.

"Guess so." I pause - "You don't think that Farid.."

"Of course he knows you've been in love with him since you were ten years old. So do I, and Kathrin, and Luciana, and probably even your patron at the Kantine and everyone else who knows you."

"Nevermind. Forget I asked anything."

"By the way did Luciana have plans after work last night that you know of?"

"Why do you ask?"

"She never came home after her shift last night."

"She didn't mention anything to me - did you ask Farid?"

"He dropped you off, woke me up, and left. I haven't seen him since. He seemed real angry about something last night though."

I must show something in my face then, because Hashim gently reaches for my hand and asks, "What is it, Abida?"

"The Commander's Deputy was in the bar last night. I think I know where Luciana is."