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Chapter Two
Eris
Feasts came less often now as the weather became more extreme with each passing year. Hotter days, colder nights, and no way to predict what would happen in the coming years and decades. The Change happened before I was born, and I often wondered what it was like then, but few of the elders wanted to talk about it.
Whatever it was, it culminated in the almost uninhabitable land that we called home. At the edge of the plains, in our oasis of sorts, we were able to grow food, still, and our deep wells allowed us to drink and make careful use of water, but none of it was easy.
But we were surrounded by lands where almost nothing could live. And from what I could discern or had been able to overhear, in terms of the history of the planet, it was new, different, and not good.
I woke early on the feast day, ready to help prepare everything for the late-afternoon gathering. Another group from the closest oasis had sent a messenger, and it was important that he report back that we thrived. Not that I understood why it should be, but I was far too young and irrelevant to have an opinion.
Meat was far too precious to serve any other time, the few livestock and wild things we could hunt as rare as green grass on the plains. The tufts that decorated it were a peculiar orangey-gold color and not edible by anything but some of the lizards and such things. And rabbits, who apparently could live on anything.
Rabbits were on the menu tonight, to be spitted over the open fire, another pretense of thriving. We twisted grass sticks for most of our cooking and burned them in small cans. Some things could be cooked by the sun itself on the hottest of days.
“Eris, are you still lollygagging around?” Tyna, the headman’s wife came out of her dugout, already mostly dressed for the feats. “We have so much work to do.” We being me and almost anyone but her. “We don’t have nearly enough fuel for the big fire. If you have nothing else to do, you can help find more.”
Find more? Because there was anything around that was burnable and had not been burned? The trees were few in the oasis, and the day before, some of the youngsters were sent up them to find any branches or twigs that might be dead or dying and could be harvested. The pile they’d gathered was not nearly enough to make a big show, but I couldn’t create wood or other burnables out of thin air. And if I didn’t convince her that I had other tasks more pressing, then I would be forced to spend the day crawling about on hands and knees, hunting for the tiniest sticks or items someone might have lost that could be added to the pyre.
It was lucky we were only cooking rabbits because anything bigger would never have time to cook before the fire went out. They wouldn’t, either, but we had a trick for that. “Tyna, I have been assigned to do the precooking of the meat.” I hadn’t, but whoever had wouldn’t mind turning the job over to me. It wasn’t pleasant to sit and twist the sticks of grasses all day to keep the cookers hot enough to get the rabbits just enough done so we could do the showy spitting of them. “And first, I have to dig up some herbs from the cache to use. Your mate wants everything to be at its best.”
“Of course he does,” she snapped. “We both do. Then why are you still here? We don’t want our guests to realize the lengths we must go to, to prepare a simple dinner in his honor. Go!” She waved me off, and I didn’t wait for her to ask me twice. Trust Tyna to come up with more jobs for me if she had a moment to do it in.
“I’m on my way.” I darted behind one of the low scruffy bushes that held pride of place for us. Anything growing did. I tried to imagine what it was like before the weather changed and most things died. There were still burnables out there, but they were so far from our oasis, the danger in retrieving them had overwhelmed the practicality of having them at all. So far. But that might change soon.
I found the marker and dug up the metal box of dried herbs. There weren’t a lot in there, but I still had to extract a small handful for our meal. Only the best for a guest. A rhyme all the children were taught in their schooling. And one most groups took seriously, or so I heard. At least I hoped so. I’d rather we fed the rabbits to the children who really could use the protein than some strange guy who dropped off a message. Everyone would get a little of the meat, but most of it would be forced upon our guest.
And the elders would consume along with him. As was tradition.
When the rabbits were in precook mode, I sat down to do all the twisting of grasses and cooking and then, in a fit of rebellion, set aside a good haunch for two little ones in particular who were in desperate need of more to eat to help them grow.
They’d accuse me of eating it if they noticed, but I didn’t care. I carefully wrapped up the haunch in a bit of cloth so I could hand it off to Annata for her twins. Such a rare birthing now, you’d think that we’d be trying our best to ensure their health instead of acting like their mother was taking more than her share.
As the day lengthened, I could smell the fire starting up and hurried to prepare the rabbits to somehow look as if they weren’t already cooked. Our guest would know…but probably not comment. It was all such a mess. And since every year was worse, hotter during the day and colder at night, who knew how much longer we would even survive.
