His black gloved thumb stroked the picture of her vivacious red hair on her CIC card as if he was fondly touching a lover. But as he tightly clenched the pistol grip of his rifle in anticipation, she realized how reverently he admired her picture. It was a tenacious look in the National Policeman’s eyes, one that was unsettling to her as she stood gripping the handle of her wicker basket as tightly as she saw him wring out the pistol grip of his rifle.
“Paige.” He finally looked up from leering at her CIC card, his eyes losing none of their fervor for the pretty girl. She stood there cold for a moment in her tan flowing dress, a feeling of unguardedness creeping over as the slight breeze blew through the fabrics. She felt insecure that moment at the small village’s security checkpoint.
“Yes…?” She pretended to be an unaware citizen just on her marry way, yet Emanuel Fux knew more than that about her. The two had grown up together in this small village of barely 300 people since birth, their history together extensive as their families were close. Paige distinctively recalled his frequent pulling of her hair while they were children, but to Emanuel the earliest memory of her was seeing her as a woman for the first time.
“Paige…. I love you.” He stepped closer to the pale girl, his breathing heavy as he blurted out his confession.
A few nearby crones stopped in their tracks when they heard those three words, no such event in a village this small went unnoticed, and talk of the town ever since Emanuel returned from National Police Academy in Warezen was his unrequited love of the young Paige Habich. The legacy of these two families had long been speculated to merge with this generation, both Paige and Emanual an obvious match. Yet once again as crones and fellow police officers alike looked on, Paige stood silent, shifting her eyes side to side as her fair complexion turned red.
“Your family and mine are close, it is our duty to carry on their legacy.” He pleaded as if the reciprocation of the previously stated three words was a duty to her.
“Am I clear?...” She did not look at him, just off to the side at a pile of rubble next to the orange barrier. Paige shifted from side to side nervously, uncomfortable that he put her in such a situation.
A few of the other National Police officers let loose a laugh from the far side of the checkpoint where a makeshift awning had been set up.
Emanuel shot an angry glare to his partners who only laughed more. He stepped forward towards Paige, his hand outstretched as if he meant to stroke her hair just as he did the picture on her CIC. Paige however had little comfort in letting him touch her, instead dodging to the side and grabbing her card which he loosely held.
“Paige! Wait! Please let me explain!” He exclaimed as she jogged past him and through the checkpoint.
He tried to reach out for her auburn hair but it was just out of his gloved reach. His partners in the corner now laughing hysterically and mocking him with their own outstretched hands and pseudo-pleading voices. As Paige faded into the crowd of the village street and around the corner to her family home, Emanuel soon became aware of just how many of the villagers had watched his failed attempt at a proposal. The amusement of his co-workers not settling well with him as they still repeated over and over “Paige wait! Paige wait!” in the most patronizing and presumptive tones they could muster.
“Shut it.” He snapped, kicking an empty glass bottle towards them, launching it over their heads before it shattered on the subsequent wall. This did little but amuse them more as they continued laughing and mocking, the villagers just shaking their heads as they continued on with their day to day lives, wondering if the next generation would truly be able to carry on the legacy of this nation.
“In my day I would have just taken her by the hand, put the ring on it, struck a deal with her daddy and that would have been that!” The muttering of elders wearing rose-tinted glasses as they recalled fictions of their youth the only consolation for Emanuel.
She was hundreds of feet from the checkpoint, yet she kept jogging, trying to sperate herself from a bad situation. Though her willpower told her to continue, her weak constitution said otherwise, lungs burning with each stride further. Decidedly she was far enough away to be safe, thus Paige stopped to catch her breath. Wiping her brow, she looked behind her to see if anyone was following, the only signs of life being a few passersby who looked suspiciously on the running girl. Though their attention soon moved on to other things as they passed her. Paige wished she could leave this village, escape the fate which inevitably meant being Emanuel’s wife under some sort of arrangement. Her time as a young beautiful made obviously numbered as being married off loomed over her. Eventually her family would stand to lose any sort of dowry due to them if they let her youth and child bearing years fade away. It seemed backwards in the context of what Paige learned at school, teachings of women’s rights and roles beyond that of a home-marker regular curriculum in the Armed Republic. Yet it was just that way here in the small villages on the edges of Achkadian civilization, stuck in the past.
Walking the mile or so from the village center to her family’s farmstead Paige contemplated traditionalism, and how it would affect her. Unlike Emanuel or any of the other youth in this village she was stuck here due to her less than ideal health. Disqualified for the usual mandatory 2 years of military service, Paige remained at home to help her mother with the younger children and work the farm. Most youth sent on their mandatory service do not return for many years, finding a life for themselves far outside of this shanty town. It could be said that Emanuel only returned because he managed to find a post near enough to accomplish his objective of marrying her, and the thought of this motivation disturbed her even more than his advances already did.
As she saw her family’s farm house on the crest of the next hill she slowly paced along the dirty road, basket full of vegetables in hand she contemplated other options of escape. Running away certainly was one; though to where she did not know. Looking out to the west she thought about whether she could escape “out there”, beyond this strange country.
“Mama, I am home.” She said once her long trek found her on the threshold of their cottage. Paige looked about their humble home, a shack compared to anything from the inner city. Even so, the cozy one room home was just enough to house her mother and three younger siblings. It kept them dry during rainstorms, and warm in the winter. Paige sat the vegetables down on a small counter near the front of the home, the warmth of the cast iron oven comforting to her after a long day at market.
“Are the boys out playing?” She looked over to her mother who sat in the corner on a wooden chair knitting.
“Mmmhmmm.” Was the only reply she got. Paige knew her mother was focused, often loosing herself in the small tasks of life since their father passed some six winters ago.
Rubbing her hands together Paige warmed them next to the oven. A kettle of tea her mother put on for herself and her eldest daughter to enjoy that afternoon steamed and let loose its fresh mint scent. While it was spring in the low country of Achkadia, it was still chilly as the ocean breeze would flow down from the north-west.
Looking around their home she recollected of the many years they had spent there, the uncomplicated nature of their lives something of a comfort and disappointment for Paige. While she felt no shame for how she had lived thus far, being destined to live this way for the rest of her days also frightened her. Emanuel’s family lived just over the next hill in a similar home, and should she marry him as he so desperately wanted this would be her life there as well.
“Emanuel saw me at the checkpoint today.” Paige set the vegetables on the counter to prepare for cooking that evening, only a quick glance did she make to her mother to see if she was listening. Still, all she did was knit, her wrinkled face and full cheeks looking downward at the brown socks she wove with her twin needles dacing in her worn hands. Her mother had red hair like hers, but it was faded and frayed from the years of hardship. Paige wondered if that would be her fate as well, her youthful beauty just a passing fancy of a fraction of the years of her life. “He told me he loved me.” She sat a potato on the counter with a thud of frustration she did not intend.
“Do not drop potato you will bruise it. Our stipend does not come for another week.” Her mother’s first words to her of the day.
Paige cleared her throat to stop herself from crying, the only comfort she wished for during that trying day was the comfort of a mother.
“And did you accept his proposal?” Her mother sat the knitting needles down in her lap and looked up at Paige. Her mother’s eyes were sunken in and weary, the stress of watching after 3 young boys and an older daughter were weights around her soul.
“I don’t love him.” Paige whimpered.
“Tsk.” Her mother picked her needles up again and sped up their dance, shaking her head.
Paige turned around quickly, a salty tear finding its way around her pink lips and into her mouth before she wiped the rest.
“Did you look on the shelve?” Her mother muttered between strokes of yarn.
Paige turned to look across the room, a set of make-shift shelves made from lumber and a few railway spikes loosely hung from the opposite wall. There sat a crisp looking brown package, settled between a picture of her father and a copy of the “Tale of the White Army”.
“Do you wish me to prepare dinner momma?” Paige stared at the ceiling in angst.
“No…” Her mother muttered. “Your brothers are no where to be found and that needs to be done before dark. I will take care of dinner.”
The young girl sighed, looking over towards the small clock on the wall that read half past 3 o’clock. Taking the package in hand which was no larger or heavier than a loaf of bread she made for the door. Before stepping out of it she looked to her mother, no words on her lips, just a glance seeking an affirmation.
Her mother as usual would not look up from her task. “You better go before the change over.” She would only say as she unspooled more yarn. “If you don’t intend to marry Emanuel, you’ll be making more of these trips to support your living here.”
Paige left without another word. She contemplated the many things she wanted to say, how she refused to live a loveless life like her mother, to resign herself to the life of a peasant in the rural pits of Achkadia. But the courage never came to her to say such a thing to her mother, the fear of the back of her hand more overwhelming.
Looking out over the hills she took a deep breath, the package in her hand feeling a little heavier in spirit today as she tried to remember how many times she had made this trip to deliver such a parcel. Setting out she walked from their farmstead past their goats and over their fence. She wondered if it was wise to wear such a flimsy dress to make the crossing, but she had gone over the border enough times before she felt confident, she could do so without making a causality of her favorite dress. Her mother would not forgive her if she did.
It was just over a mile to the border with Cabeca, though in truth it was a shorter distance straight line from her home to the wire barrier. But of course things were not that simple when trying to exit one of the most homogeneous nations on Olympus, Paige was forced to take a windy path through an old river bed between the hills to avoid any prying eyes. Often Achkadian soldiers patrolled simply with cameras or binoculars so traveling above the crest would be too obvious to those watching this section of the fence. The largely isolationist country placed allot of resources in guarding its borders, but through the eight or so years Paige spent taking packages between the two countries she found this portion of the fence to lack the strict guard that other areas exhibited.
The riverbed was moist from a rain just a few days ago, making the trek more difficult as she tried to stay up on the rocks along either side vice walking through the mud. It would be almost 4 o’clock, the time about when the guards changed over in this sector. This was the best time to sneak by unnoticed, the often laxed attitude of the border patrol due to the mild relations with Produzland and general lack of illicit border crossings ideal.
A sudden radio crackle echoed along the hillsides, causing Paige to hunker down next to a larger rock.
“10-5-1 shift change sector Kilo, respond 10-4-3 changeover.” The voice on the radio chirped while Paige kept her red hair down and close behind the rock. She peered over the edges of the stone with her blue eyes but she could not see any of the soldiers, yet she knew they were close.
“Affirmative, 10-5-1.” She now could hear a solder just over the hill to her left. Usually they were already long gone by this time, but it wouldn’t be the first time she ran into a patrol and was forced to hide.
“Bloody humid out here eh?” A crackly voice said as a cigarette butt was launched over the hill, hitting the rock Paige hid behind.
“My balls keep sticking to my leg. Let’s get back to post and get our kits off.”
“Aye.”
Paige could see the smoke of their cigarettes rise above the crest of the hill as their sound got farther and farther away. While she wondered if she should be more nervous than she felt, she also recalled how many times she had done this, and how some times she wished she would just be caught to be done with this affair.
But as the guards were far enough away for her to move on, she could see the crossing was just a few meters ahead, the light of the Cabecan valley shining brightly though the fence.
It was years ago she first made this crossing with her father, a energetic man who was the epitome of love and caring to his daughter. Paige fondly thought about the story her father would tell her of when he cut the small hole in the border fence, a dare by one of his friends to go and come back with textiles from Produzland. Coming up to the fence brought it all back to her, unlike the place her father was buried in the town cemetery, this is truly where she felt closest to him. The jagged cuts on the metal wire that she pealed backwards with her soft hands reminding her of his rough exterior and tough spirit he had. Paige dreamed of being like her father one day, an adventurous spirit not to be caged anywhere. Though her mother would say this was reckless, just like her dead sire.
Paige would squeeze her slender figure between the cut pieces of fence. A few scars along her shoulders remined her of the times she underestimated the sharp wire and let it go too soon, its claws digging deep into her. But no matter how painful the first part of the crossing was, what came next was always a dream.
Standing now at the edge of the small patch of trees that straddled the bordered between the two nation,s Paige looked out over Cabeca, the sprawling beautiful valley that was illuminated by the setting sun in the west. Before her the city of Saint Aurelio lay elegantly, a lively town unlike any Paige has visited. If there was any part about this arrangement she enjoyed the most it was visiting Saint Aurelio and her people for the short amount of time she had. It was a whole different world here opposed to Achkadia, they were free and happy here. Often Paige contemplated not leaving each time she visited.
Looking back at the hole in the fence however she knew that her proverbial chain only went so far. And should she not return it would be her family that suffered. Though she resented her mother and the absence of her spirt since the passing of their father, Paige loved her.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the pine scent before making her way down the hill quickly enough to avoid being caught by the Produzland patrols. It was just a few miles to where she had to drop this non-descript package, and she only had so much time before she needed to be home for supper. Before setting out she looked down at the package, the thought of what they could contain bothering her again as it had for the past dozen or so trips she made. But as her father would always remind her when she was a girl, it wasn’t her place to question, just deliver.
With her father’s confidence she set forth down the hill, finding her way to the another river bank and her destination in the foreign land.
