A Story of Kindness
A Story of Kindness
by Carmelo Rafala
You wonder if the Great Ones have abandoned us? If the world is meant to be devoured by the night? Or maybe you wonder if many are meant to go hungry, or to burn slowly from the invisible rays left over from the days of the Great Burning? I can say I am almost certain. Yes. Yes.
I tell you we wander through evil days, my friend. Evil, evil days. But there was a time when a ray of hope shone in the dark. Yes, there was. And I was entrusted to deliver such hope, but it was stolen from me. Stolen, I tell you! Life stolen from me and from us by beasts! Such unruly animals, and without a shred of decency in their hearts. Such monsters, I tell you, such brutal beasts the likes of which even Hell would fear. Beasts that would just as soon slit your throat in your sleep without an offer of trade, such–
Oh, but I ramble. Forgive me. So sorry. My thoughts have the tendency to possess me, spring to life. You know how it is….
(Ah-hem.)
Ah, that fire is a lovely thing, my friend. Such warmth, lovingly given, lovingly taken, and I thank you for letting me share it with you. I sense such kindness in you, my friend, as is rarely seen in this world. Yes, I do. And I am grateful, but….
Shall I show you what real kindness is? Hum? A trade. Yes? I will trade, trade with you this moral story, my story, my friend, before I continue on my way. And even an old tale can be worth something. Could I interest you in this antique, then? Would you be interested in the ramblings of an old fool? Would you like to hear it then? Yes?
Good.
I shall begin when I was younger and roamed the wilds, trading–oh, stories for food mostly, stories of glorious antiquity, when the world was young and alive, and of course some odds and ends, useful things. Let me see….I once stopped off in a little village of bone and ash. So long ago it was, what year anyone can guess, for who has taken note of such things since the Great Fire burned? Ah, these days of anguish….
But I digress.
(Ah-hem.)
Let me see. Yes, a trader I was.
No, no. A bringer of hope in the darkness….
Yes! Yes! Come forward my wayward friends, come and let me show you something the likes of which you have never seen before. Yes, don’t just stand there. Come. You give me five minutes—just five—and I’ll show you something worth having. Yes, sir, just for you. For you. And you, my darkly dressed friend. And you too, sir. Yes, yes, no need to push and shove like beasts, come now, there is plenty for everyone. Plenty. We’re civilized people here.
Good. That’s it. Oh, is that wristband gold? Good barter, good barter. You may not wish to part with it now, but just wait until you see what I have in store for you! Useful things, and stories of such adventure. No need to look elsewhere, I guarantee you!
(Ah-hem.)
Yes, I know. Not much of a place. But what is these days? Just a carriage, some wooden walls and a leaky tin roof on rubber wheels. Just big enough for me and my stock. But what a stock! And I want not. No sir. Hey! You there! Stop pushing. Let’s be civil, shall we? A little kindness, please. Good.
Now where was I? Ah, yes, who could know that down here at the end of this lonely little street, this cul-de-sac of our little world, could hold such treasure? See here, a rare find! An antique they used to say. Could I interest you in this antique? Of the finest quality, I’m sure. And it’s authentic! A canteen they used to call them. Holds a good day’s water supply. Much needed when crossing the wastes between the black cities. Yes sir, let me tell you.
And these? Yes, good protection against the radiation, they used to say. Just put them over your body. Somewhat heavy but hey, could save you from becoming a sterile wretch. Know what I mean? Of course you do. Hey? Hey? Ha, ha!
Yes, it is a dark time indeed, my friends, and more reason why you should trade for some of these items. Could mean your very survival! I have everything anyone might need here. Yes, sir. Right here. But don’t delay; I must be off for the next settlement in two sun-passings. Much joy to spread. Yes, indeed.
So what will it be, good people? But, of course, what do you have? Something for me? A little gold? Some silver, perhaps? Something useful? Remember this is an honest trade. I am doing you a great service, for you and your children.
Review the picture: Deep bronze light filters through the thick, cloudy sky where the children scavenge. Your children. In their tatterings they grip at each other, pulling at useful things found in the heaps left behind from the Days of Mania, sometimes with shouts or whines in their mouths. And you sit, perched upon a lone stone wall, a sentinel guarding the pathways, watching for the creatures once your pets, whom you devour, and who now hunt you down for eats.
And if it’s not the creatures, it’s your neighbour, stealing from your backyard and slitting your throat. Some even steal children. Can you imagine?
But let me slow down, pace myself here. I can see you’re getting tired, agitated. Why don’t I begin with a story. Yes! I shall begin with a story, a story for precious minutes of your time, time to browse through my goods. Agreed?
Well, I shall begin with a very special story, very special, the holiest of stories. You have not heard of such a tale? No?
You see, in the days before the Fire there were windows in every home. Indeed, there were great buildings of windows that reached up to the tip of the sky! But no window before or after can be compared to such a window as the Window of Plenty. Such a special window, a holy window, such light and vision….
You have not heard this one? Well, gather close, my friends.
(Ah-hem.)
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