{"id":608,"date":"2010-11-23T10:51:22","date_gmt":"2010-11-23T15:51:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.old.caraghobrien.com\/book\/?p=608"},"modified":"2010-11-23T10:51:22","modified_gmt":"2010-11-23T15:51:22","slug":"advanced-boy-with-matches","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/birthmarked\/advanced-boy-with-matches\/","title":{"rendered":"Advanced Boy with Matches"},"content":{"rendered":"

The following is a bit story about a character from the world of Birthmarked.<\/em><\/p>\n

Pyrho had never been outside the wall, nor wanted to go, but when one of the older kids at school told him he was advanced, this from a kid who had access to sensitive school files and tended to know such things with disturbing accuracy, he decided, before he talked to his father about it, that he had best go and see for himself what it was like outside the wall.\u00a0 His father, still upset about Pyrho lighting the grass in the school playground on fire, would not, Pyrho decided, appreciate questions with implicit longing about his parentage.\u00a0 Furthermore, his father would never let Pyrho go out on his own to explore, and exploring was now imperative.<\/p>\n

\"\"During recess, while the other kids of his year were playing on the swings and the jungle gym, and the big kids were playing soccer on the grass area that had not burned, Pyrho quietly passed back inside the building, down the dim, deserted hallway, and out the janitor\u2019s door.<\/p>\n

Bright sunlight fell on the cobblestones beneath him, and he instinctively tilted his hat forward to shield his eyes.\u00a0 The walk down to the south gate was long, through streets active with pedestrian shoppers, but he\u2019d had the forethought to put a piece of folded paper in his pocket, and this he held conspicuously now, under the guise he was simply delivering a note, as any boy might be called up on to do without remark.\u00a0 With his other hand, he twitched the matches concealed in his pocket.\u00a0 He couldn\u2019t resist snagging them from home despite his father\u2019s warning, and the spindly little sticks felt good, like luck.<\/p>\n

The great doors of the south gate were open, and Pyrho slowed, watching the view of the unlake through the arched opening, and the nearing rooftops of Wharfton.\u00a0 The bang of a blacksmith\u2019s anvil rose from the town below, a sound familiar and beckoning.\u00a0 The horizon drew him, and he knew once he stepped outside, no other wall would exist between him and all of the wasteland beyond the rugged homes of Wharfton.\u00a0 A boy could walk through that gateway and keep on walking forever.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you headed?\u201d asked the guard.<\/p>\n

Pyrho peered up, seeing more Adam\u2019s apple than anything else.\u00a0 He held up the note.\u00a0 \u201cIt\u2019s a note for the Tvaltar,\u201d he lied easily. The Tvaltar was the only building he knew of for certain, visible as it was from further up the hill.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s likely closed now,\u201d the guard said.\u00a0 \u201cTry the door around on the right.\u00a0 That\u2019s where the projectionist lives, if he\u2019s not out in the market.\u00a0 Don\u2019t dawdle, now.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t,\u201d Pyrho said.<\/p>\n

He passed under the arch and strode down the long incline.\u00a0 The wall looked taller from the outside, he noticed, and more impenetrable, but at least it would be impossible to lose his way when he was ready to return.\u00a0 He slid the folded paper in his pocket with the matches.<\/p>\n

The road dipped between the first wood and stone houses, and spidery alleys and trails fingered out in different directions, all bright with sunlight and sharp shadows.\u00a0 Pyrho followed the sound of the anvil, and then voices, and when the quadrangle unfolded before him, alive with market day, he stepped under the shade of a mesquite tree to get his bearings.\u00a0 It was a smaller market than the one he knew in the Square of the Bastion.\u00a0 Here, people were more likely to have their wares spread out on a blanket than arranged on a cart or table, and there was an unhurried, relaxed atmosphere that engaged him.\u00a0 Several boys ran past carrying long sticks and water jugs.<\/p>\n

\u201cLooking for someone?\u201d\u00a0 A young mother was paused just beyond the shade, a basket slung over her elbow, and he saw she was speaking to him.<\/p>\n

A barefoot girl in a neat blue dress stood behind her, running her fingers rapidly through a circle of red yarn to tie it into an intricate pattern of spaces and lines, like a web or ladder.\u00a0 She glanced up idly, and Pyrho was surprised to see her cheek was badly scarred.\u00a0 The girl eyed him curiously.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou from the Enclave?\u201d asked the girl.<\/p>\n

He was about to improvise about coming down to buy some eggs, but for once his words failed him.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou just came down to take a look, didn\u2019t you?\u201d the mother said, in an easy, warm voice.\u00a0 \u201cThat\u2019s quite all right.\u00a0 You\u2019re not the first.\u201d\u00a0 She nodded toward a pair of old women on the far side of the quad.\u00a0 \u201cYou might like to watch the spinners.\u00a0 They\u2019re fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve seen spinners before,\u201d Pyrho said.<\/p>\n

The woman smiled.\u00a0 \u201cOf course you have.\u201d\u00a0 She started to turn away.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like some matches?\u201d he asked.\u00a0 He scrambled in his pocket and thrust his hand forward, offering them.<\/p>\n

The mother turned back again and considered him more closely, tucking her hair behind her ear.\u00a0 She took a step nearer, into the shade.\u00a0 \u201cThank you,\u201d she said, and held out her own hand.<\/p>\n

The boy turned his fingers over to pass the little jumble into her palm.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy do I get the feeling you won\u2019t let me pay you?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n

He shook his head. \u00a0It felt good, somehow, to give her something, and even better that she accepted.\u00a0 He backed up a step.<\/p>\n

\u201cHeading back so soon?\u201d the mother asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess so.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCome again any time,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

He peered around the market one more time, memorizing the sound of the smithy\u2019s hammering, and the red of the string in the girl\u2019s fingers, and the way the mother wrapped his matches in a tiny scrap of cloth before she tucked them in her basket, as if she\u2019d been expecting them.\u00a0 It was all right, he decided, if he was an advanced person, with a birth mother somewhere outside the wall.\u00a0 He would ask his father about it when he got home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The following is a bit story about a character from the world of Birthmarked. Pyrho had never been outside the wall, nor wanted to go, but when one of the older kids at school told him he was advanced, this from a kid who had access to sensitive school files and tended to know such […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[11],"class_list":["post-608","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-birthmarked","tag-tie-in-stories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=608"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":613,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/608\/revisions\/613"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=608"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=608"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.caraghobrien.com\/book\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=608"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}