Sunday 5 September 2021

Chapter One: Eight Cents

 ~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~

Eleanor took the news pretty well. Elizabeth was crying her eyes out when she explained why the police were there. "S-someone has to ID the body." Elizabeth sniffed. "He didn't have anyone except us. And even that, only because..."

"I'll go." Cyrus said firmly. Of all of them, he was the most experienced, and the least emotional about the news. He took stock of all his staff and spoke gently. "Guys, straight up: Working at a place like this is a little like being a doctor. When we've got repeat patients, there's a reason." He made sure he had their attention. "Back when I was a surgeon, I made friends with a patient who smoked. Every time he came in for emphysema, I would treat him, and tell him to quit. And when emphysema turned to cancer, I went ahead and treated that too. And when he needed life support to breathe, I never once said 'I told you so'. You know why? Because that's not what Doctors do."

Eleanor nodded. She understood the point of the story. "Baez was a friend, Cy."

"Yes, he was. But we have a lot of people who need help, and there's nothing keeping us here but compassion. So you gotta keep that alive." Cyrus tapped over his heart. "Most important person to keep healthy is the doctor."

~/*\~

Everyone who worked at the Shelter reacted differently when they lost one of their charges. Elizabeth found a quiet spot and prayed. Cyrus worked. Homer cleaned up, almost excessively.

Eleanor wanted to talk to her husband, but he was working that day, so it would have to wait. Cyrus had told her to take a break, get away from the Shelter long enough to get a hot meal and a cup of coffee. Eleanor agreed. One thing a homeless shelter always had was coffee, but she went elsewhere, to go clear her head.

There was a good coffee cart in the plaza. Plenty of foot traffic brought all kinds of food trucks and buskers. It was a good spot for people to sit with a drink and kill some time while they made their way through the morning.

As Eleanor made her way towards coffee, she saw the Literature Cart. Two well dressed people, smiling at passersby. Between them was a wheeled cart full of pamphlets and Bible literature. The woman on its left smiled at Eleanor. "Good morning."

Eleanor averted her eyes for half a second before she remembered how rude that was. "Morning. I'm sorry, I can't really…"

The older woman nodded, not offended. Eleanor hadn't even slowed her stride as she passed.

When she placed her order at the coffee cart, Eleanor realized she'd spent more on lunch than she thought; counting out her coins very carefully, unsure if she had enough. She was down to pennies, and was exactly eight cents short. "Eight cents. Can I… can I get you next time?"

"Sorry, lady. Cash only."

"I-I-It's already half made!" Eleanor heard the weakness in her voice and hated it. She was begging for a cup of coffee, for the want of eight cents.

And then a dollar bill was put down on the counter. "Keep the change."

Eleanor nearly jumped out of her skin. It was the lady from the Cart. She gave Eleanor a smile. Flustered, Eleanor didn't know how to politely refuse, or ask why the woman had followed her from the Cart. By the time she figured out what to say, the Barista had prepared her drink, and the lady had ordered two drinks of her own.

The woman from the cart held out a hand. "Martine."

"Eleanor Chester. Pleased to meet you. I… appreciate it." Eleanor said guardedly.

"Glad I could help." Martine chirped, and headed back towards her partner on the Cart, with a coffee in each hand.

Eleanor kept pace with her automatically. The Shelter was in that direction, after all. "So, I can't pay you back right now, obviously, but I will."

"Over eight cents?" Martine actually laughed. "Doesn't seem like enough to concern yourself with."

"It was enough to matter to the barista." Eleanor commented. "I don't like to owe people. In my experience, they don't often let you forget it."

"Now that surprises me." Martine observed. "If I said the same thing about why you were volunteering at a homeless shelter, what would you say?"

Eleanor nearly spat out her coffee. "How do you know…"

Martine chuckled. "We have mutual acquaintances. Elizabeth, Homer and Cyrus."

"What?" Eleanor blinked. "How do you know them?"

"They work at the homeless shelter, right? Elizabeth is from our Congregation."

Eleanor blinked. "Really? Huh. I don't actually know her that well. Our shifts don't overlap often. Homer and Cy are my direct supervisors."

"One of their charges was a former brother. His life went off the rails a bit, and he wanted to come back. Homer and Cyrus came over to ask us about that, to see if they should encourage or discourage it." Martine chuckled. "I've seen you with them, heading for that sandwich place. It stood to reason you worked with them."

Still smarting from her day, Eleanor sipped her coffee deeply. "I'm sorry if I came across as aggressive or paranoid. It's been a rough day."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Martine said. "For the record, I helped with the coffee because it cost me a few cents to help you out. That's all."

Eleanor nodded. "Of course. Sometimes it's hard to remember that people can do a good thing because it's good. Even little things."

"Little things above all else." Martine nodded. "Big things are intimidating to people. You see someone who needs help with their kids, their car; paying the mortgage, a new job…" She shrugged. "It's hard to tell the moments apart. Times when a kind word can help, and times when it can't."

"It gets away from you so easily." Eleanor sighed. "I've been volunteering at the Shelter for years, and every now and then… Most of the people there for more than a month? They'll never get off the streets. There's a reason they're hiding from The System. Mental health, immigration status, abusive relatives… If they ever get back on their feet, the world will remember them. For some, our shelter is the safest they'll ever be."

"And for some, I'm guessing it's not enough." Martine said sympathetically.

Eleanor stared at her a moment. "Don't know why I'm telling you this."

Martine gestured at the cart. "Probably because you aren't really interested, but you know I'm sincere enough, so what's the harm in unburdening yourself to someone you never plan to speak to again?"

Eleanor actually laughed for a moment. "Yeah." She admitted, and promptly told Martine all about it. "His name was Baez. He'd been in and out of the Shelter for most of the last two years. He's… not like most of the people who need help. Sharp as a tack, incredibly capable; could do any job he managed to get. Three or four times a year, he would go off the rails. His savings would all go up his nose, or bet on a horse race. Made it hard for him to keep work. So when he crashed, he wound up with us. And you know what? When he's at the Shelter, he's amazing. Helps with the others, knows everyone's name; knows just what to say…" Eleanor wiped her eyes. "Last night, he came running into the Shelter and he was throwing a party. His bet on the horses won it big. Thousands of dollars."

Martine said nothing during the whole story, but kept her attention fully on Eleanor the whole time. The other person running the Cart took over, having brief conversations with people passing by, letting others go past with a smile and a nod.

"They found him this morning, dead from an overdose. Thousands of dollars, and no ID in his pocket except the Shelter's address." Eleanor summed up. "I don't know why this is killing me so much. It's not like we can fix any of them, really. Some of them have somewhere to go; most of them won't ever get…" She trailed off. "They're all over the place, begging for food, and nobody even sees them. Chewed up and spat out, forgotten by the System."

"Mm." Martine said sympathetically. "But not by you."

"He was just so… likeable." Eleanor was holding her coffee cup like it was a life preserver. "Don't tell any of my coworkers this, but… Charity is kind of a lost cause. The problems of the world are making more innocent victims than we could ever feed. There's just too much profit in cruelty; while kindness is living on crumbs." She gestured at the cart. "Look who I'm telling. I don't imagine they pay you well for spiritual things."

"I'm a volunteer." Martine nodded at the books on the cart. "We don't charge, either. The people who taught me all about God, and the world, and why things are the way they are? Those people made all of this misery bearable and they didn't get paid anything to do it either."

Eleanor said nothing to that.

"The world can't last. That's a fact. I learned that from a Bible study, but everyone else in the world is figuring it out too." Martine said simply. "When I learned it, the message came with hope. Hope, even for people like Baez. Even now that he's gone."

Eleanor was already rolling her eyes.

"It's not a message everyone will listen to, I know." Martine said easily. "But when Jesus was walking around the world telling people these same words I'm telling you now, he didn't tell it to the wealthy. He spoke to people like Baez. People like you. He preached to lepers and the workers and all the Lost Ones."

"And look where it got him." Eleanor said with biting understatement.

Martine actually laughed. "Well. That's a matter of perspective too, isn't it?"

Eleanor drained the last of her coffee. "Well. I've gotta get back to work." She said quietly. "Thanks for listening. I know I should listen to you now, but..."

"You can say it."

"I appreciate people who are trying to help. But platitudes don't actually help people." Eleanor held a hand up. "And whatever you're about to say, I'm not comfortable elaborating with a total stranger. Even a sincere one."

"Fair enough." Martine handed her a small business card. "Look, if you don't feel comfortable talking about this with people, why not take one of these; and go looking for answers yourself? If you want to talk; or have questions, come find us. We're not hard to find."

It was a business card, but instead of a name and number, it was a short website address. JW.ORG.

Easy to discard. Eleanor thought, and headed off.

~/*\~ Nomi ~/*\~

Nomi really should have gone to the Marketplace. She didn't like it there, but at least there were people watching. It was far too easy for Natu to cheat her on their trade here at his farm.

"Two bundles of grain." He was implacable. "It's the usual rate."

"The usual rate is three." Nomi insisted. "Three bundles of grain for a woven garment."

"That's the usual rate when you can expect some standards." Natu returned dismissively. "I wouldn't dress my dog in these weavings."

His words were insulting, but Nomi wasn't offended. These trades were part of life, and making the other feel like they were asking for more than they were worth was a standard tactic. "And I would normally be fine with two bundles, except that you always bundle such a small amount. One cubit is the standard length for a bundle tie. Even from here I can see you're offering less than that."

(Author's Note: The first recorded use of currency is precious metals/stones in Abraham's day, long after the Flood. However, the first 'transaction' recorded in the Bible was trading livestock. In fact, the modern word for 'money' comes from the original term for 'cattle'. Pre-Flood society had metalworking, farming, and livestock. It stands to reason barter would be practiced. Certainly, there's nothing to suggest otherwise.)

"You want a better rate, go trade at the marketplace." Natu scoffed.

"The whole reason you're trading here is because you'd never get away with such a lie in front of the others." She shouted over him.

Natu's face changed and he snatched the garment from her. "Just for that, one bundle." He spat. "Take it, and be grateful for my generosity."

"Grateful! You're stealing from me!" Nomi tried to wrestle the garment back, and she felt it start to tear. "Let go!"

"I'm being very generous." Natu snapped at her. "You're leaving with my hard-earned grain, and you're offering me this shameful pittance in trade." His voice suddenly became more inviting as the hand around her wrist started to slide up her arm. "Of course, there may be some other arrangement…"

Nomi pulled back immediately, the garment lost from her instantly. "You can't do this!" She shouted. "It's wrong."

Natu rose to his full height, easily a foot taller than her. "And what do you plan to do about it?"

Nomi froze, instinct keeping her still, as if hiding. She was about to be attacked, over a bushel of grain...

"Natu." A deeper voice rang out suddenly.

Despite herself, Nomi could breathe again. Kainan had appeared just in time, as if from nowhere. Natu immediately deferred, seeming to shrink into himself. He reacted like a baby animal when approached by a hunter.

Kainan strode over to stand beside Nomi, and put a hand on her shoulder. He was easily two heads taller than either of them, and built like one of the bears. He could have crushed Natu instantly, and they all knew it. "Don't let me interrupt." Kainan said with an easy swagger. "I understand you were making a trade with my dear Nomi. Four bundles of grain, was it?"

"Three." Nomi demurred.

"No, I'm sure it was four." Kainan said with a pointed look to Natu. "After all, it's not exactly the same quantity 'per bushel' as she would get in the marketplace."

Natu immediately started tying extra bundles for Nomi.

Kainan loomed over her, as much as he did everyone else. He was still relatively smaller among the Godsons, but she couldn't help the way she reacted to his casual power and strength.

(Author's Note: There's no direct word on what people of Noah's time thought about the Nephilim. They were described as giants in comparison to other people; and 'men of fame'. Noah's time was described as 'filled with violence'. But what people knew about the Nephilim's parentage is an open question. In this story, I have elected to make it known. It's understood that people of Noah's Day knew Jehovah, even if they didn't worship him in any way that He approved of.)

Kainan smiled down at her, eyes lingering just a little. "May I walk you home? It's not proper for a beautiful woman to go unescorted."

~/*\~

Nomi would have had to bundle the grain and carry it on her back, bent by the burden. For Kainan it was an easy load. She felt his fingers brush her hand as they walked, and couldn't help the sudden urge to thread her more delicate fingers through his. "I should thank you for intervening." She said carefully. "It was a kindness. But you know that he's not a bad man, as these things go."

"If you mean he's not as brutal as others could be, you might be right. But that doesn't make him good, only less bad 'in comparison'." Kainan rumbled. His voice was powerful enough that everything he said, even quietly, sounded like he was holding in a lion's roar.

"Farmers have a certain defiance in them." Nomi commented as they walked. "It's simply their nature. They've been that way since Adam, from what my mother says. Turning rocks and thistles into farmland by sheer labor makes them hard that way."

"Even so, he wouldn't have tried to cheat you if you hadn't been smaller than him." Kainan countered. "You shouldn't have gone alone."

"I know. But I didn't have much of a choice." She admitted. "Mother needed the grain, and the marketplace… Well, there are many places I shouldn't go alone." She looked up at him, and bit her lip. "In fact, Natu will be embarrassed by this. The next time I see him, he'll make me pay."

"If he does, come and find me." Kainan promised. "I'll make sure he knows better."

Nomi felt her stomach flip as the thought hit her. "How did you just happen to be walking by at that moment? When he started getting violent? It's not an accident."

Kainan didn't deny it. "I was watching. Just to keep an eye on you." He admitted. "I like looking after you, Nomi."

Nomi's stomach flipped again. "I… I can make it the rest of the way from here."

"I'm sure. But I was hoping to speak with your mother." Kainan rumbled.

Nomi's stomach didn't flip this time. It turned to ice. She knew it was inevitable. She had been of age for a while now, and was still unmarried. Normally, her father would have had to arrange it, but he had drowned in the river some years before.

She knew Kainan had been interested for a while. He wasn't the only one, to be honest, and she had to admit, the incident with Natu wasn't the first time she had needed rescuing.

Nuria, Nomi's mother, was tending to some light maintenance on the thatch roof of their dwelling. The grain stalks would be added once they'd harvested the grains. She saw Nomi walking with Kainan and smiled. "Kainan! So good to see you. You'll stay for dinner, of course?"

"Actually, Nuria..." Kainan rumbled grandly. "I was hoping you might come to dinner with my family tonight? You'd be welcome."

"Dinner with the Chieftain?" Nuria was thrilled. "We'd love to."

Kainan held out his other arm to her, and Nuria quickly fell into step beside him. Nomi let out a breath between her teeth as she put the grain away. Nuria was determined to arrange a marriage between her and Kainan. The Chieftain's son, and likely the next chief himself; married to her daughter? It was better than Nuria could have hoped for. The fact that the Godson was clearly interested in Nomi was all Nuria needed.

Kainan walked them towards the Hunter's Lodge. It was the largest structure ever built, with rows of tables for those who ate at the Chieftain's invitation. The most popular, most prestigious people in the world, having succulent food delivered right to their table, while others sang or danced for their entertainment. The closest Nomi had ever gotten was when her best friend Anah had asked for help sweeping clean the floors. Anah had been a handmaid to the Chief's family for a while now. A position with proximity to power, but very little power herself.

Nomi walked with her arm in Kainan's, while he made conversation with her mother. She knew the whole world would see them walking together, and the likely conclusions that would be drawn.

The way to the Lodge was through the marketplace. It was the first time Nomi could walk through it without constantly watching out for trouble. The Marketplace wasn't as busy as usual, with people pausing in their trading to prepare the evening meal; but word would get around soon enough.

Kainan saw a man at the other end of the Market, and Nomi could feel his muscles bunch. Arms that could break stone were suddenly coiled under her fingers. "What's wrong?" She asked automatically.

Kainan didn't respond directly to her, instead making a detour from their path to the Chieftain's home. With her arm in his, Nomi was obliged to follow. "That man is under instruction to avoid our people as much as possible. Him, and his whole family. They've been making trouble for others, telling wild stories; frightening the children."

"His family is selfish." Nuria said with authority. "They're the greediest people who have ever lived. They claimed more land than any family in the world, and they hoarded enough lumber to make a dozen buildings like the Chieftain's Lodge."

Nomi peered forward, trying to get a better look. The man that had upset them was wrapping some kind of bundle in hides, and slinging it over his shoulder, a trade obviously completed. As they wandered over, one of the table legs at the stall gave out, sending heavy metal tools scattering across the ground. The stall-keeper let out a cry of frustration, and the man quickly hurried to help gather the dropped wares.

"The fact that trees grew beyond Eden is miracle enough, given the rocks and thistles our grandfathers had to deal with." Kainan rumbled. "The idea of one family wasting so many of them…"

"Why haven't I ever heard of him?" Nomi asked, intrigued, despite herself. Greed was nothing uncommon, but she had never heard of a hoarder going… unpunished, for so long.

"You've heard of his father. The family keeps to themselves. Have for almost thirty years." Kainan explained. By this time, they were within range of the man. "Why are you here, Shem?" Kainan boomed, and Nomi felt her body hum with the power of his voice alone. "You were warned that your family is not welcome here."

"I was just leaving." Shem promised. "My father doesn't like us being here any more than you, but it was necessary." He gestured politely at the stall-keeper, who was shrinking back from Kainan automatically. "I needed a new axe-head."

"More tools." Kainan commented. "When are you going to give up on that stupid hobby?"

"It will be finished in due time, I assure you. We don't plan to be at it forever." Shem said evenly.

Nomi was not part of the conversation, though she was still on the arm of Kainan. She studied Shem for several moments. He wasn't afraid of Kainan. Not even intimidated. It was an odd reaction. Most everyone respected the natural authority that came with power and strength. It was a hierarchy that put the Godsons at the top of the world, and everyone knew it.

"Well, you've got your tools. Move on." Kainan said, and it was a tone that carried the clear threat of violence if disobeyed.

"You heard him!" Nuria snapped. Nomi jumped at her vehemence, but realized that her mother was trying to score points with the Chieftain's son. "Show some respect for who's in charge around here. You were warned! If I see you in this market again, I'll run you out myself!"

Kainan rumbled with amusement. "You better run fast, Shem." He warned jovially. "I don't know if I can hold her back for long."

Nomi smothered a slight smile at his humor. Her mother was determined beyond reason sometimes. Even so, she imagined Kainan might have been much more forward with his intimidation, had he not been with Nomi and Nuria. He's showing off his authority, but making an effort not to get physical. Is he trying to impress someone, or is he actually unwilling to use force with him?

She shook off that thought as her mother got the last word. "Go home, Shem. And tell your father that the next time he wants something from us, he can come himself, and face the consequences. All your family are troublemakers, and decent people have had enough!"

~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~

Eleanor didn't think of Martine, or the Cart, or their conversation again. Two days later, she was working at the shelter, and felt gum on the bottom of her shoe. She sat with a sigh, and looked around for something she could use to scrape it off. She patted down her pockets, and found the card, with the 'JW' logo on it. She'd forgotten it was there.

Cyrus was carrying past a tray of used coffee mugs, on his way to the Kitchen. He noticed the card. "You got that from those people across from the Library, right?"

Eleanor nodded. "They mentioned you, actually. You went by with Homer to talk about something or other?"

"About Jedd. He was one of our 'guests' for a few weeks, and admitted to me that he wanted to talk about his soul, or whatever it was they believe in. He was scared to ask, so I went over to ask what kind of reception he'd get. Apparently, they train their whole Congregation in how to have that conversation."

"They have training?"

"You think they improvised that Cart? There are dozens of them around town; probably thousands of them around the world." Homer nodded. "I've chatted with them since. I give them credit for this: They took responsibility."

"What do you mean?"

"Look around, Ellie. There are pamphlets from every church in town here. The reason more of our charges don't go is because they don't fit in with the Bible crowd. You look like a homeless person, you stand out in most churches. The collection plate? Forget it."

"Right." Eleanor nodded.

"I stopped by the Cart again a few weeks later. They waved me over to let me know that Jedd was doing better. He's reconciled with his family, he was off the street, if only as far as their guest room. Apparently, things are better now." Cyrus nodded. "What gets me is, they kept in touch; once they got him and his family in a room. They're more sincere than most."

Eleanor looked back at the card. "To be honest, sincerity has nothing to do with it. At least not for me. I'm not religious." Not wanting to expand on that any further, she pried the gum off her shoe and tossed the card in the nearest bin.

"Neither am I, really." Cyrus admitted. "You want to talk about that sort of thing, you should ask Elizabeth."

Eleanor turned to look back at the kitchen, where Elizabeth was scrubbing plates. "Why?"

"She's part of their congregation. Those people at the cart? They knew her long before we did." Cyrus shrugged. "I run a homeless shelter. I give points to people who keep faith and hope alive."

"Maybe that's why I'm not interested." Eleanor offered. "Four years of Sunday school didn't make me hopeful or loving."

Cyrus rolled his eyes at her. "You say that, but you put your heart into all these people. You've never missed a shift, you've never forgotten a name. These people aren't just 'faceless guests' to you."

Eleanor winced. "Cy…" She said weakly. "I'm leaving soon."

Cyrus blinked, surprised. "Really?"

"At the end of the month." Eleanor nodded. "Del got promoted to full-time so we're going to try for kids."

Cyrus smiled. "That's wonderful."

Elizabeth, carrying a tray of clean coffee mugs, ready to be used again, had apparently been close enough to hear most of this conversation. "I'm happy for you too, Ellie. But you know that you can keep working here for months if you want to. It's all volunteer."

"She's right. We'll make room for your schedule. We'll have to, since we don't pay you." Cyrus nodded.

"It's not that." Eleanor promised. "I'm… I'm not sure that working here is a good idea, for someone starting a family. And Del agrees."

"I know our guests don't have the most stellar reputation with nice suburban guys like Del." Cyrus said patiently. "And no disrespect to him, but you've been volunteering here enough to know that violence and drugs aren't really something that we have a lot of trouble with-"

"That's not what she means, Cy." Elizabeth said, eyes on Eleanor. "What she means is, it's hard to bring your kids into the world with a smile full of hope when you're front row to despair and helplessness every day."

Eleanor looked down. "Yes." She admitted. "Del's worried about violence. I'm worried about the other thing." She looked up, forcing a smile. "You guys have got me for another couple of weeks. Never hurts to do your bit when you need some good karma on your side."

She noticed Elizabeth glance at the card she'd tossed in the bin, but neither of them commented on it.


~/*\~

If you'd like to support the author, the series is also available on Amazon.com.

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