problem...Oh, and wear these as
well.” She took out a pair of nice dress shoes and handed them
to me. They were a little worn, but I was glad to have them.
I
hurried and changed before making my way out of the room. Because the
shoes were a little too big, it made my descent down the stairs a
little awkward, so much so that I nearly bumped into Roland at the
bottom.
“ There
you are!” he said. “I was beginning to think that I'd
have to go to the village by myself.”
“ You
could have gone with January or Grix,” I said, walking past
him.
He
shook his head. “They left before the survival tests. Being
born in a family with money has its perks. They probably ate
breakfast at The Sticky Wicket.”
I
smiled. “The Sticky Wicket?”
“ The
students love to go there for their cinnamon rolls. They have the
best.”
“ Well,
I can't go,” I said. “I don't have any money.”
He
pulled out a small jingling bag. That's okay. I have plenty.”
“ Were
you born into money, too?” I asked.
He
chuckled. “No. Far from it. I just receive a small salary as a
trainer.”
Because
he was barely three years older than me, I kept on thinking of him as
a fellow student.
We
followed the pathway that the other people had trampled down. The
road had been washed away with all the water and mud. It would need
to be repaved.
Roland
and I walked silently. I looked up at the sky to watch as a few birds
flew by, singing songs of cheerfulness. The sound made my heart lift.
Birdsong was always part of the summer solstice. In my hometown, the
villagers would often join in with songs of their own.
Once
Winter's Peak came into view, Roland started to lead the way. We
walked by cottages and various storefronts until we reached a sign
that read The Sticky Wicket .
Wagon wheels made up most of the sign. They were painted green and
red, but the paint was old and most of it was peeled off. Vines grew
along the stone walls, and two window boxes overflowed with morning
glories under the large, grid-like windows.
The
bell above the door jingled merrily as a group of students came out,
laughing and talking. Roland opened the door for me, and let me go in
first. The place was slightly crowded, although that was expected
from how popular Roland had said it was. It seemed a lot bigger on
the inside than what it showed from the outside. Booths were placed
along the stone walls and the sun shone through the windows, making
the space feel bright and cheerful.
Roland
and I found an empty booth to slide in. The backs of the booths rose
above our heads, creating a sense of privacy. I could already see why
this place was so popular.
A
frazzled looking woman walked up and took our orders—two
cinnamon rolls, a black coffee and an apple cider. After she sidled
away, Roland looked out the window for a few minutes. He seemed kind
of distant, unlike his usually cheerful disposition.
“ Is
something wrong?” I asked.
He
looked at me, as if surprised that I had asked the question. “Not
entirely,” he said after a while. “I recently received
news that my sister had her baby. I was just wishing that I could
visit them. It's my mother and father's first grandchild.”
I
smiled. Being an orphan with no other family, I imagined that it
would be a very joyous occasion. I found myself wishing that I
could've had a grandmother and a grandfather. Other kids in Forlander
got to visit theirs, but I, as always, was alone. Perhaps Elna could
be a grandmotherly figure, but I found her a little too spunky for
that title. She was more like an aunt.
“ That's
great news,” I said. “I'm sure you'll get a chance to
visit them.”
He
raised his eyebrows. “Will I?” he asked. “The
schedules are so tight here that I don't know if I'll have the time.
“ Well,
would she be able to visit here?” I questioned.
He
shook his head. “I wouldn't wish a seven day journey on any
woman with a newborn baby, but especially not my sister.”
“ Oh,”
I said,
well.” She took out a pair of nice dress shoes and handed them
to me. They were a little worn, but I was glad to have them.
I
hurried and changed before making my way out of the room. Because the
shoes were a little too big, it made my descent down the stairs a
little awkward, so much so that I nearly bumped into Roland at the
bottom.
“ There
you are!” he said. “I was beginning to think that I'd
have to go to the village by myself.”
“ You
could have gone with January or Grix,” I said, walking past
him.
He
shook his head. “They left before the survival tests. Being
born in a family with money has its perks. They probably ate
breakfast at The Sticky Wicket.”
I
smiled. “The Sticky Wicket?”
“ The
students love to go there for their cinnamon rolls. They have the
best.”
“ Well,
I can't go,” I said. “I don't have any money.”
He
pulled out a small jingling bag. That's okay. I have plenty.”
“ Were
you born into money, too?” I asked.
He
chuckled. “No. Far from it. I just receive a small salary as a
trainer.”
Because
he was barely three years older than me, I kept on thinking of him as
a fellow student.
We
followed the pathway that the other people had trampled down. The
road had been washed away with all the water and mud. It would need
to be repaved.
Roland
and I walked silently. I looked up at the sky to watch as a few birds
flew by, singing songs of cheerfulness. The sound made my heart lift.
Birdsong was always part of the summer solstice. In my hometown, the
villagers would often join in with songs of their own.
Once
Winter's Peak came into view, Roland started to lead the way. We
walked by cottages and various storefronts until we reached a sign
that read The Sticky Wicket .
Wagon wheels made up most of the sign. They were painted green and
red, but the paint was old and most of it was peeled off. Vines grew
along the stone walls, and two window boxes overflowed with morning
glories under the large, grid-like windows.
The
bell above the door jingled merrily as a group of students came out,
laughing and talking. Roland opened the door for me, and let me go in
first. The place was slightly crowded, although that was expected
from how popular Roland had said it was. It seemed a lot bigger on
the inside than what it showed from the outside. Booths were placed
along the stone walls and the sun shone through the windows, making
the space feel bright and cheerful.
Roland
and I found an empty booth to slide in. The backs of the booths rose
above our heads, creating a sense of privacy. I could already see why
this place was so popular.
A
frazzled looking woman walked up and took our orders—two
cinnamon rolls, a black coffee and an apple cider. After she sidled
away, Roland looked out the window for a few minutes. He seemed kind
of distant, unlike his usually cheerful disposition.
“ Is
something wrong?” I asked.
He
looked at me, as if surprised that I had asked the question. “Not
entirely,” he said after a while. “I recently received
news that my sister had her baby. I was just wishing that I could
visit them. It's my mother and father's first grandchild.”
I
smiled. Being an orphan with no other family, I imagined that it
would be a very joyous occasion. I found myself wishing that I
could've had a grandmother and a grandfather. Other kids in Forlander
got to visit theirs, but I, as always, was alone. Perhaps Elna could
be a grandmotherly figure, but I found her a little too spunky for
that title. She was more like an aunt.
“ That's
great news,” I said. “I'm sure you'll get a chance to
visit them.”
He
raised his eyebrows. “Will I?” he asked. “The
schedules are so tight here that I don't know if I'll have the time.
“ Well,
would she be able to visit here?” I questioned.
He
shook his head. “I wouldn't wish a seven day journey on any
woman with a newborn baby, but especially not my sister.”
“ Oh,”
I said,
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