Busy day, Saturday. Helped Daughter #1 get a car to replace the one she totaled the Wednesday before; while that was going on, Daughter #2 texts she’s at the airport and ready to be picked up. So, I was bouncing around everywhere. Did anything else happen Saturday?

With Akaiame, we learn a little more about the Broken and the town of humans. Several other things are mentioned but remain a mystery for right now. As this will be a busy week for me in the RealWorld, I imagine these segments will pause for the coming weekend.

Enjoy my content? Buy me a beer!

From the Machine Shop they walked what Akaiame guessed from the position of the sun was northwest, coming quickly to another Shop area, but this one was inhabited.  She guessed maybe a third of the buildings were occupied and making something. 

She also saw that most of the people were human men; a few of the older male Broken seemed to be helping them, but only a few.  Conscious of the stares, she tried to furl her wings against her back as tightly as she could.

“It’s you, friend, not your wings,” Snaran said with her bright smile.  “Everyone’s always curious about a hatchling!”

“Oh.” She kept her wings down.

They arrived at a bridge over a river maybe a score feet across.

“The water comes through a gate in the Wall that way,” Snaran waved vaguely north, “where I like to swim and play!  The central part of town is just ahead!”

The brick, wood frame, and stucco houses and shops grew denser the further they went.  The press of urbanity was relieved by the many trees between the buildings and the vines that grew on them.

Turning a small corner they stepped into a large circular plaza.  There must have been two score people, humans, she thought, mostly women and children, talking or playing, respectively.  There was a large clock tower on the north side.  She smiled to take in the scene just as silence spread in a ripple from closest to them and out.

“Not again.” Her smile fled.

She felt Snaran take her right hand as wave at everyone with her right.  Seeing the cute happy girl allowed the plaza to begin to return to normal.

“This way!” She led them on the main road that led due north.  “The best used clothes shop for us is up here on the right!”

“Used clothes?” That didn’t sound very nice.

“Didn’t Nike tell you anything useful?”

“I guess not,” she breathed.

“Stuck up old Broke!” Snaran huffed.  “Anything we use – including clothes – must be second-hand.  It’s a rule.”

“Anything?”

“Well…” she considered that.  “I guess if it’s something you made yourself, that’d be okay.”

“So if I took old cloth and used it to make my own clothes, that’d be fine?”

“Sure!  But you don’t ‘take,’ friend.  You’d buy it.”

“With what?  I’ve no money – ”

“You will, once you get a job!”

What?  Akaiame stopped suddenly.

“I’m getting a job?  When?”

“Well, that’s kinda flexible, but most Broken are working within a month of their hatching.”

She might be only a week old, but Akaiame was learning she’d a contrary streak a mile wide.  She didn’t want to argue right now, so she tried something else.

“What is it you do?  I see you at the Shop all the time.”

“I work part-time at a barber shop,” the younger replied easily.  “The owner’s really not all that good with women’s hair, so I’ve kinda taken over that part of his business.”

“Oh.” A question formed.  “What about Nike?”

She saw the gleam in Snaran’s eyes and ignored it.

“For some time he was a waiter at a café just south of town.  But he really had a flair for it and now he’s the manager!”

“After we get you a new outfit,” her gleam grew brighter, “let’s drop by and show him!”

“So where’s this shop?” Akaiame almost growled at her.  Snaran laughed.

They’d wandered around inside for about twenty minutes.  The owner, a human male, maybe thirty, she guessed, sat behind a counter reading a book.  The used clothes were on the walls on the back and left of the store.

“Where do these new clothes come from?” Akaiame whispered.

“I guess he gets them at the weekly trade fair,” Snaran matched her tone, not understanding why.

“Trade Fair?”

“Later.  Are you gonna get something or not?”

“Fine!”

Akaiame hauled several panties, some camisoles, a couple of shirts, and a skirt to the desk.  The man glanced up from the book he was reading.

“That’s a lot,” he said.  “You must be the new Broken we heard about, at the ‘Shop?”

“Yes,” she nearly hissed.  “I didn’t know hatchlings were news!”

That surprised him.  She heard Snaran mutter something.

“Well… actually, they are.” He wrote out what she’d wanted and showed her the total.  “May I see your book?”

“My what?”

“Here,” Snaran leaned around her, putting what looked like leather notebook onto the counter.  There were gold letters on the front she couldn’t read.

“What’s it say…?” She wondered.  She watched the man pick it up.

“Ah…kai…ah…meh.  Is that correct?” He asked.  “It’s blank?  Of course it is:  you just got here!  I’ll just enter this as a debit and you and the priests can settle up later, okay?”

Akaiame had no idea what he was talking about.  Her friend seemed to think everything was normal, so she just nodded.

He was about to fold her purchases and put them into a bag when he paused.

“As… a welcome gift from the town, how about,” he picked up some clothing shears, “a special service?”

Still lost, she could only look to Snaran who nodded.

“Great!  If you’d turn around and relax your wings – ”

“What about my wings!” She was already self-conscious.

“If I don’t know their size and shape, I can’t modify the backs of the shirts you just bought.”

Oh.  That was reasonable.  She was getting tired of keeping them down for all this time.  With a sigh she let them come up and out…

“Wow!  Look at those!”

Her fingers went to claws and she imagined tearing him to pieces.  Another bad thought.

The modifications were complete in only another quarter hour.  He excused himself into his storeroom in the back while she changed.

“Pretty!” Snaran cried.  “Let’s go show Nike!”

She stuffed her old shift into the bag with the rest of the clothes.  The owner came back just as they exited the front door.

“Come again,” he called.