Kal Aalit Nunaat & Sara Terblast
"Did ya hear?"
Sara shook her head distractedly as she slapped at her son's hand in the bin of pored-fruit.
The other woman, a shopping acquaintance, went on: "There's jobs up Hubei way, town named
Ganj Dareh. Har Norma Byukan herself posted a message in the Em-Deh."
Sara swapped a sack of dried oats from her toddler to the bigger boy, to give both his hands
something to do, then hoisted the littlest onto her hip, to keep that one out of trouble. She eyed
her middle child, another girl, to stave off any prank on her part. Only then did she say, "I
haven't been in Em-Deh for days. And the bulletin board in our sleep-and-eat has been down for
longer'n that."
The woman reached into a bin with desert taters piled to a precarious height. "Well, the grocer
here let me look through his private entrance just now. It's there all right. Doesn't say 'jobs'
directly. Says to come on over though. I'll be waiting for my hubby to get home and we're going
to chew it over real good."
Sara thanked the woman and marched her children over to the exit counter. She had to leave two
small sacks behind when the agent-for-trade balked with 'quota exceeded' messages. But this time,
she didn't rankle at the limit. Instead, she handed around burdens according to age, then hurried
out of the commissary.
Heat slapped her. Heat direct from the suns. Heat in the desert wind that scoured the village.
Pavement heat that lapped over her sandaled feet and seeped through thin soles. Her vision filters
folded down from her droopy hat and she snugged them against the bridge of her nose. Then she spun
slowly across her brood to make sure their sunglasses were in place as well. Satisfied, she
marched at their head along the path that branched and branched and branched again till they stood
before their su-she.
Puffing slightly, she shooed the children up the outside stairs to the room they all shared, their
part in the dormitory of the gong-she they had been sharing now for close to seven Seveners or so.
Then, she followed the trail around the skeletal four-story building to the field beyond.
Furrows spread before her like the waves of a mirage trapped between orchards of palm trees. This
particular stretch of the direvnya's farmland was allocated to the su-she. Her husband Aalit
worked as much as any of them to coax food from the sandy, dry soil. She spotted his rust-red
bandanna floating off his neck and hollered his name. He lifted his hoe and turned obediently in
her direction.
"Nothing specific?" he asked after she explained about Ganj Dareh.
Sara shook her head.
"How long since the notice went up."
"Seven days."
"Then we best get moving. No doubt many have already done that."
Sara nodded. "You should go to the drome. See about transport."
"And you'd better be ready to move out when I get back. Just in case the next train is quick. I
may —"
"What?"
"I may call if need be."
Sara made a dry noise behind her thin smile. After all this waiting, the prospect of hurrying was
laughable, but even she didn't know how much was wry laugh and how much was near-sob.
They touched each other's cheeks softly, briefly, before heading to their respective tasks.
