91 GONE FOR GOOD (1/2)

Lean and dark women and children were walking in intense heat for miles in search of water, and they had no spirit to shoot the breeze. The women had thin hair on their heads, and the children were just skin and bones, with their ribs showing out in full.

Including men of all ages, about three hundred or so people arrived at a well not far from the seashore. Getting down to the bottom of the 1200ft deep well was fraught with dangers, but along with men, the children and women fearlessly made a line down the messy slopes of the well and helped each other to get loaded waterpots to the surface.

Currently, there was only a large puddle of muddy water at the bottom of that massive well. Fetching water from whatever source available had once again become part of people's routine in the past few years, especially at the end of the summer and the beginning of the monsoons.

During these days, finding a pot of water a week per person was considered a roaring success.

On this day, all people got at least one to two pots of water for themselves and their families, except for two—a senile man in a turban and a little boy. One was too old, and the other was too young to contribute, but they both had two things in common: little clothing and similar facial looks.

As the villagers downed mugs of water in the wink of an eye, the little boy gulped his dry saliva. He unwittingly made a piteous expression, but his cake was dough, for nobody batted an eyelid for his sake.

The old man, on the other hand, was in somewhat of a lather. He did not ask any villager to share some water and just followed those who still went looking for more wells. Unlike other villagers, these two didn't carry any pots because they had already sold all the vessels—pots, jars, and jugs—for little food and water. Otherwise, they wouldn't even have survived until now. Currently, they were following the villagers, so they could quench their thirst if someone showed sympathy to them, despite knowing such tender mercies only came once in a blue moon.

”Why are we going to another well, grandpa?” the little kid asked, his voice sounding dry. ”Why can't we dig deeper into this well for more water?”

”Without rain, it doesn't matter how deep we dig the wells won't recharge any better. We'll be drinking more water to quench our thirst during the process of digging than the water that we may find if we dig deeper.”

As hot winds washed his face, the old man looked away from the shore and toward the mainlands. His eyes were set on the sky, looking for the signs of dark clouds. However, the sky was as clear as it could be. All the trees in sight had only dried up branches and zero leaves. The voices of younger men, who were involved in a conversation, reached his ears.

”There's not much water left in the wells, and there's no sign of rain either.”

”Last year also we had a severe drought, but this year, it's worse. What cursed lives we're living!”

”Some of our friends had already left our village, but if it doesn't rain soon, we'll be forced to do the same. The longer we stay here, the closer we get to our death bed.”

”Yeah, I dug my fields a few inches yesterday, and it's all rock. It takes heavy rains for our lands to even become useful for farming. I don't see that happening any time soon.”

”I'm almost out of fodder. Whether it rains or not, I can't stay in this place for more than a couple of days, or I'll be watching my buffaloes die!”

”You can just sell them as we did.”

”They're like my children! I can't do that!”

”You're not the only one who treats their cattle like family, but there's nothing much we can do, given our situation. Even if we were fighting against forest fire, we could somehow hope to stop it or escape from it, but now we're fighting against the fire in our bellies, one that needs much less water, yet we can't even get that. Tch, what miserable lives we're living. We're truly left alone.”

”I don't agree on the cattle part. They are everything to me.”

”Whatever.”

Their words didn't help the old man's situation either, but he tried to lighten the mood with his words, ”Let's not worry about trivial things, folks. We don't have enormous energy like the sun to be angry all day.”

However, the others kept chatting, and the old man was totally ignored, so he awkwardly backed out of the conversation and stayed silent like he was never part of the conversation, to begin with. He knew that being in the vale of years was enough to make everyone look down on you, but he also knew that he only needed a few praises to make them listen. However, unlike the younger ones who seemed rejuvenated after wetting their tongues and throats, he neither had the stamina nor the mood for such frivolous conversations, at least not at the moment.

As death was indirectly but repeatedly brought up in the men's conversation, the old man's memories drifted into the past. About a month ago, a tiger came out of the dying forest, probably because of the harsh climatic conditions, and mauled his cow to death. Not long after that, his son had gone to sea for fishing but never returned. The old man fathomed that the sea had taken a liking to his son and chose to keep him in her bosom forever. However, only days after his son's loss devastated the family, a slight mistake at a well cost his daughter-in-law her life.

Wells claiming people's lives wasn't anything new, but every time such an event happened, it seemed to have occurred out of the blue, as if no one ever expected that people would give their lives away, willingly or not, in ways that would cause anguish in their beloved.

Right now, the old man's bare feet could bear walking on the hot and parched road much better than the loss of his son and daughter-in-law through unnatural deaths. Even though he wanted to cry, he held back his tears, not wanting to waste whatsoever water left in his flesh and blood. After all, if he died, who would look after his five-year-old grandson?

Even though the old man was wearing a turban, the glaring sunlight and the heat regularly gave him headaches. His waist, knees, and feet also hurt a lot from daily walks.

”Grandpa, some of my friends say that people in cities live comfortable lives and that we can get water every day. Why can't we go there?”

”We can't afford to get there, let alone live there, Cotton,” the old man replied with a desolate voice. ”Maybe our destiny is like this, never worthy of leading comfortable lives, but I believe it's better than the people who abandon their drought-ridden villages like rats desert a sinking ship.” He could guess that people in large towns and cities have their own problems, but throughout his life in Noclopogo, he had seen many deaths, but the worst of them all was dying from thirst. He never wished such death to befall even upon his enemies. He knew very well that he was killing the hopes of his grandson, Cotton, who was given this name because his cheeks were soft like cotton when he was born, but he just didn't want Cotton to have 'fruitless' wishful thinking. Be it life or death, it had to come in the village he was born in; however, he didn't want Cotton to live similarly and be desperate for every drop of water in his sight.

As he was lost in thought, he didn't realize that his sight turned blurry. He licked his sore lips with his cracked tongue, but that didn't help much. He felt like something was wrong, so he raised his hand to call others for help. Before he could speak out, however, he collapsed to the side.

”Grandpa! What happened? Grandpa!” Cotton tried to help him, but the old man couldn't feel his surroundings at all. One of the villagers, who were walking in the front, noticed the old man's situation and was about to turn around, but her friend stopped her and advised her that a gulp of water might save the old man's life for now, but given his condition, he might kick the bucket regardless. However, if that same amount of water was instead given to cattle, they'd provide milk. Even though Cotton's cries reached them, they kept walking. This wasn't the first time they abandoned someone, unable to feed them, and this probably wouldn't be the last either.

The old man had seen many people admit defeat to the intangible monster of their lands, the long-lasting drought, but he didn't want to throw in the towel like them. He tried to get up, but the fall had sprained his back, and the shock numbed his whole spine. He couldn't even sit straight. Laying on the hot ground, putting his hands on his face, he cried out in his heart. ”Damn it all…” The old man, who was bearing all the pain in his heart until now, broke out into tears.

Cotton didn't know how to react. His expression was filled with confusion and sadness because he wasn't sure if his grandpa was now taking another one of his usual quick forty winks. He couldn't tell that his grandfather was having a back problem, but he could tell that something was hurting him. ”Grandpa, the ground is hot. You should get up.”

His grandfather suddenly stopped crying. He took a long glance at Cotton and then removed his turban and put it in Cotton's hands. ”Take this and follow those people.”

”What about you, grandpa?”

”I'll follow you soon, so go. Hurry,” the old man urged. ”You can still catch up to them.”

”No,” Cotton shook his head. ”I don't want to go without you.”

”Don't make me repeat myself! I'll catch up with you soon!” Anger filled the old man's eyes, and he pushed Cotton away and threw dirt and stones at him. ”Just go!” he kept waving his hands.

Cotton's mouth was downturned, ”But you walk like a snail, grandpa.” Tears filled up his eyes, and he started to cry. ”How can you catch up with us?”

The old man's expression froze. He gritted his teeth and continued to toss dirt and stones, with his head tilted down.

Cotton soon walked away in haste, without saying another word.

”Don't be like me! Don't have a one-track mind! No matter what challenges life throws at you, always be up to the mark, so you can one day have the world by the tail,” the old man told the parting words as he continued to throw everything his hands could get off the ground, even though his spine hurt a lot every time he moved his arms. Tears had long stopped coming out, and his eyes turned bright red, with which he took a final look at the back of his grandson before shifting his gaze toward the clear sky. His mind, however, felt muddy at the moment. ”I was born with nothing, and like everybody, I strove for riches and fame. Like everybody, I tasted both success and failure. Now, as I near the end of my story, why does it hurt so much despite knowing that I won't be able to carry anything beyond my grave just like everyone else?” as pain rose up to his throat, he found it hard to swallow.

He went silent at a stroke. The sun was right above his head, but right now, he was looking straight toward the sun with open eyes and without blinking.

Many seconds passed, but he didn't blink. Seconds turned into minutes, and still, the old man didn't blink. A housefly came and briefly landed on his nose and then left; even so, there was no movement in his body.

Just then, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He shifted his head and blinked for the first time in many minutes. As his sight slowly restored, the image of Cotton reflected in his eyes. Why? Why did he come back? Just as he rubbed his eyes to get a better rock, the familiar voice of Cotton reached his ears. ”Grandpa! I've brought water!”

The old man had an utterly puzzled look because Cotton was not holding any pot. However, Cotton soon skidded into a halt and knelt beside him and said, ”Open your mouth, grandpa!” He put the turban on the old man's face.

The old man's eyes widened upon seeing that one of Cotton's eyes were blackened. ”Cotton, don't tell me, you…”

”Just open your mouth,” Cotton put his fingers into the old man's mouth and forced it open. Then he squeezed the turban, and water dripped down from the cloth and mostly fell into his mouth.

The old man gladly and desperately wet his tongue and throat. Cotton was careful to not waste the water. After all, he obtained that by dipping the turban in one of the waterpots the villagers were carrying, and, in return, received a blackened eye, but the effort was worth it. Though the thought of climbing down the 1200ft well came to his mind, the sheer size and depth of the well itself scared him, so he had no other choice but to resort to this method.

After squeezing all the water he could, Cotton gave the turban back to the old man, who then squeezed it masterfully and brought more water out, startling Cotton. This time, it was Cotton's turn to wet his tongue while laying his head on his grandfather's chest. Afterward, they soaked their faces with the wetness of the turban. Even under the scorching heat of the noon sun, the coolness they currently felt, there was no pleasure better than that in the world, or so they fancied.

”Mm?” Just then, Cotton's eyes shifted toward the sea. His eyes widened to the max when a mountainous ship hove into view. This ship that approached the shore was Extensive Voyage. ”G-Grandpa… look!” Cotton quickly pointed in the direction of the sea. ”A ship!”

The old man's eyes exhibited a significant amount of surprise. ”T-That ship...” his voice trembled from joy. He quickly took a deep breath and tried to get back up, but he had to take Cotton's help for that. ”Let's get to the shore fast!” His paced forth like an old ship that had wind added onto its sails.

”G-Grandpa, why are you in such a hurry! Let's take it slow. Besides, that ship looks dangerous!”

”That ship's not dangerous,” the old man said, his eyes full of hope. ”That's our friend. The only friend we've got in this world.”

”F-Friend?”

”It's the only ship that can pull even landlubbers toward the sea!” he briefly remembered the first time he saw Exvo when as a kid, and his disinterest toward the sea was flipped on its head, and he grew up into a sailor.

The grandpa and the grandson hastily and desperately headed toward the shore.

A few minutes later.

Exvo had stopped near Noclopogo, a group of islands, which was one of the most pauperized places in the world.

”Marm[1], we've been suffering from a drought for the past few seasons,” the headman of a section of these lands, an old fellow named Chaves Lowry, was politely requesting Stussy by kowtowing to her. ”And we don't know when 'dearth' will leave our lands. So I'm afraid we can't give the usual prices.”

”Please get up,” Stussy helped him stand. ”We can see that famine is inflamed in your lands, but you don't have to worry so much, sir, for the prices have fallen this time.”

”R-Really?” Rays of hope escaped out of his eyes. Exvo visited these lands every other year, so her words sounded like a matchless melody.

”Yes.”

”Thank the heavens! Thank the one who watches over us from up there!” he was overjoyed, but then after hearing the prices, he raised his hands in joy and cried. After all, he only had to pay less than half the international price for most goods. Though he had no idea about what the worldly prices of the products were this year, he could still tell that they were cheap. Had it not been for the timely arrival of the much-awaited Exvo, he knew how many families would be facing hunger and not live through to the next season. If this wasn't help sent from God, then what else could it be? ”Thank God! Thank Shambala Sect!” he bowed, and his forehead touched her hands. ”Thank you.”

As they were discussing, packages of goods slid down the sloping windy ways and reached the islands' shores that were lined with hopeful eyes that exposed their needful lives.

Chaves gave different colored stones in return. ”W-We only managed to gather this much over the past half-year. Are they enough, marm?”

After taking a glance at the crystals in that sac, she smiled. ”These should cover.”

”Also…” Chaves then gave her a small bag. ”Please take these.”

”Mm?” she took the bag and saw that it was filled with wheat cakes. This moved her quite a bit. ”Y-You don't have to do this. You can feed hungry children with these. Please take this back.”

”Please don't refuse, marm,” Chaves stepped back once. ”We may be poor, but we don't take things back once we've given them. I hope you understand.”

”This…” Stussy was put in a bind. She wanted to help them somehow, so she quickly thought of an idea. She then asked, ”How is barely production going in your lands?”

”Not so much as wheat, but to be honest, even wheat isn't properly growing in our lands anymore. Why do you ask, marm?”

”Nothing,” she spoke, choosing her words carefully. ”I know that barley is almost half as cheap as wheat, and it also gives a lesser yield, but barely can grow in places where wheat can't grow. You get what I'm saying, right, sir? I'm sure you, too, know that.”

Chaves frowned a bit.

”Don't keep your knowledge to yourself, sir,” Stussy said, ”or, your head grows heavier by the day. Don't animals eat barely just like they eat wheat? You can also temper the bricks, or use it as straw and do many more things with barely, too. Please tell your people about these benefits that barley has over wheat. Not only does it require less water than wheat, but it also has a higher salinity tolerance. Besides, you can make beer with barley, too, not just wheat.” Chaves' eyes enlarged when she brought up beer into the conversation. ”Even after barley is harvested, you can grow chickpea to use up the residual soil moisture. That's just one way to optimize your schedule. So, with the right usage and implementation, barley can become a miracle crop for your lands and your people.”

”I'll see what I can do in the coming winter, marm,” Chaves replied, looking a bit guilty. They were secretly exporting beer to make some money at the cost of cutting their diet, but he didn't know that Stussy knew about such sensitive information.

”Then I'll be looking forward to the barley cakes in our next meeting,” said Stussy.

”Thank you for your care, marm,” Chaves bowed once more and then looked at the fat man standing behind her. ”Thanks to you, too, Sir Garett.”

The fat man, Gerett, however, looked away, seemingly dissatisfied. But then when the old man handed him a small box full of home-made sweets, his eyes glowed, and he beamed big time. Gerett then gave Chaves a mug full of nerve wine, and then they exchanged the phrase: Bottoms up!

In the calm weather, some quick drinking followed as those two men recalled the halcyon days of their youth.

”Oh, by the way, I almost forgot about this,” Stussy intervened in the off-color discussion between Gerett and Chaves. ”Since you are facing drought…” She took out a brown-colored manual from within her sleeve and handed it to him.

”What's this, marm?” Chaves couldn't help but ask.

”It expounds on farming drought-tolerant crops—those that require less water to thrive.”

Chaves' eyes broadened. ”This… This is too precious. I can't take it.” He tried to give the manual back, but she gently pushed his hands.

”No. That's just a copy, so keep it. However, pass the knowledge only to those who need it, and don't ever sell the information in it.”

Chaves didn't even have to think. ”This hollow understands,” he deeply bowed. ”I will treasure this treasure.” Chaves understood that she didn't take out this manual because he had offered her some cheap wheat cakes, but this manual was clearly prepared beforehand itself, so his respect over her and the sect once again grew by leaps and bounds.

After a little discussion, Chaves alighted down the ship with a happy face. He couldn't wait and opened the book to a random page, and what he saw was detailed information on cherry tomatoes. ”Oh, so if we pour enough water during the early stages, we can pull back on watering after the fruits are set, which means we don't need to spend as much water as we usually do till the harvest. I didn't know that. Some of the 'saved' water can be used for other purposes.” He nodded to himself. ”This is wonderful.” Just then, when he touched the image, his finger went into the book, shocking him, and though he felt something, he immediately pulled his finger out.

”Wow! That scared me.”

After getting his heartbeat under control, he touched the image again. His hand proceeded into the page as if it was dipping into a bog. He grabbed the things he could feel and pulled his hand out. His eyes popped out of the sockets upon seeing the seeds packed in paper bags and even seedlings bundled together. At that moment, he realized just how useful that manual would be, and it fully exceeded his expectations. Though he could tell that the book didn't contain an endless supply of seeds and seedlings, he was more than satisfied. He wasn't only granted knowledge but also the means to act upon it and get things started for a better future they could actually look forward to. The rest was all up to him and his people. It was in their own hands to work hard and carefully with what was available to see themselves through the tough times. If everything went well, then maybe in a few years, they would no longer need to wait at the shore for the arrival of a specific ship like they did every other year from the past few decades. Even though Chevas was away from Exvo, he turned around and kowtowed with teary eyes.

As Exvo sailed and moved away from the islands, Gerett felt warmth flowing in his heart. (Looks like we made it before their hope ran out. They will get over hunger for now.) He glanced at Stussy. (If the captain isn't stalwart, then the ship can never reach the shore in time. I'm glad that I was blessed to work with exceptional chiefs over the years.) He looked back toward the islands. (The growth and yield of the plants we've given can't be compared to the common types, so if things work out, they won't have to be worried about famine again. However…) He turned to Stussy. ”Chief, you could have also brought some rain and eased their troubles a bit. Why didn't you?”

”They've gone through more than most could endure, which is why what we've done will be plenty enough. If we do what you say, then we'll be giving them false hope, which can lead to all sorts of troubles. After all that they've been through, what they need is hope that never ceases. Only the one who brought them into being can offer that. He sent us here, and he knows when to send the clouds, too,” Stussy said and started to walk away. ”If your stomach's still in knots, then pray for them.”

”S-Sorry, Chief,” Gerett bowed in shame, but then quickly stood straight. ”Also, Chief, some of our workers caught flu-like symptoms, many at once.”

”Give dandelions and mint for the mild cases. As for the rest, send them over to me,” Stussy replied without looking back.

”Right away, Chief, and thank you!”

Stussy briefly glanced in the direction of Noclopogo and remembered a poem she read as a child.

”The man manipulating the weather

Is tantamount to

The tail wagging the dog

And neither is ever fruitful

For what can a foot achieve

If it was made to sit upon the head?

Alas, nothing but specks of dirt.”

Upon muttering the poem under her breath, Stussy faintly smiled. ”This Surya Chand had a talent for making enemies with his poems. I would love to meet him if he's still in this world.”

At the same time, on Noclopogo, thousands of dots could be seen heading toward the shore. However, Cotton and his grandfather were among the first who arrived there. Thanks to that, they were able to fill their bellies with water that tasted like honey. Dozens of tall water tanks were left by Exvo, so with careful spending, these tanks would last for at least a couple more weeks.

Both Cotton and his grandfather thanked Chaves for letting them drink freely. Chaves wrote down their names—Vamasa and Cotton— and then gave them two pots of freshwater, a watermelon, and a small bag full of oranges. Both fruits were ones that had a long shelf life even in warm conditions. ”Come to the head office if you want seeds,” informed Chaves at the end.

”Surely, sir,” Cotton and his grandfather, Vamasa, thanked him once more and left for home, holding each other's hands, wearing a bright expression on their bony faces. Cotton now understood why his grandfather called the ship their friend. Even though the neighbors and other villagers showed their backs in time of need, this stranger-esque ship came from a distant land and offered them free water and food at slashed prices. Though he didn't know all of the dealings, he somewhat grasped things from overhearing people's conversations. Even though he only received a few fruits, he realized that he wasn't just the only one being helped. He felt grateful for the help he, his grandfather, his village, and the people of his land received. At least for the next few nights, he and his grandfather wouldn't need to sleep on a hungry stomach. The same could be said for many others.

Vamasa, meanwhile, was carrying the watermelon by tying it to his butt with the turban. The oranges, however, were in the handbag itself. His name Vamasa meant 'victory through hardship,' or so he was told by his mother. So he always wondered as to how his name reflected his life and sometimes even hoped that his mother gave him a different and joyful name.

Currently, Vamasa was looking at others who were hurrying to the shore for their share. ”I think I now know why life hurts, at least mine,” he thought to himself, ”because life has been a hunt to me. I was neither a hero nor a villain. I was just another bird looking for a worm. No matter how many worms I eat, I'll always keep looking for another.” His gaze shifted toward the oranges in the bag. Putting all the heaviness in his heart aside, he took out an orange. It fit his whole palm. When he tried to peel it, the citrus scent flooded his nose, but he was even more surprised by how easily he could peel because the skin was quite thin. His vast experience immediately told him right away that the quality of the fruit is top-notch. After all, the fruit wouldn't have grown this big unless it was correctly watered, and thin skins guaranteed good taste. He gave half of the fruit to Cotton and kept the other half with him. The moment they put the juice sacs in their mouths, the rich taste of the orange washed the dryness and dullness of their tongue and mouth away. They looked at each other's faces in elation. It had been a while since they tasted fruit so fresh and tasty.

”Remember this, Cotton, fruits with thin and healthy skins are like gold dust. They get sold in minutes upon their arrival to the market, so the only way you can ever get your hands on these juicy fruits in our lands is by waking up early and waiting at the shop, standing first in the line.”

”Yes, Grandpa!”

Soon, instead of talking, they shifted their focus back to eating and savoring the fruit.

Chaves, on the other hand, continued with distributing food and water to other people. He took the trouble to personally handle everything so nobody would steal or get anything in excess. Some tried to grease his palm, but he put them through the wringer for subornation. After all, he had to be strict if he wanted his people to last until the rains showed up. However, he was still worried that the other headmen of other regions in this archipelago would come after this water and food. Not wanting to let the food go to waste by ending up in the bellies of the corrupt officials and their family members, Chaves was distributing all the food items near the seashore itself. This way, those officials wouldn't dare to take the food away from him, fearing that the wrath of the starved souls would turn toward their storehouses.

As people flocked to him, Chaves was happy to give them food and water, but soon, even the birds and other animals were stopping by, for their hungry bellies smelled food from afar, but because of too much human presence, they could only watch from a distance. Even those animals lost their loved ones because of bad water and lack of food. Chaves felt for them, but that was all he could do. Humans were his priority.

Still and all, as more 'malnourished' cattle and other animals were gathering in the distance, he couldn't breathe as freely as he did only seconds ago. ”I hope this drought will be gone from our lands for good. God, please help us!”

Meanwhile, back on Exvo, somewhere on the twelfth deck.

Beren and Booboo were walking together. ”Uncle, can I ask you something?”

”Yes, chick. You can ask me anything. Maybe you want some alcohol?” Booboo thrust his hand to the front, and by the time he swiftly brought the hand back, there was a branded wine bottle in his hand, as if it appeared out of thin air.

Beren's eyes widened a bit upon seeing Booboo pull off a magic trick. ”No, no, that's not it.”

”Oh…” Booboo then opened the lid and took a few gulps. ”Then what else do you want? The touch of a woman, maybe?”

”N-N-No!” Beren blushed more than just a bit. ”T-That's not it! I just want to know about a myth.”

”What myth?” Booboo took a long gulp this time.

”I heard that people who die on seas end up at a place called Ghost Cage,” Beren hesitantly and hopefully said. ”Is that true?”