The villagers sat together by the bank, waiting. When Joseph emerged from his amalgamation of a building, one of the women tapped the other. When she pointed, others saw, and they all looked to see him. Together, they got to their feet and looked on in silence.
Joseph gazed across the river at them, but his focus was behind him.
"If you can't reach her," he began, "then does that mean Tamara can't either?"
Remembering where the girl stood upon that opposite bank, he searched the faces there. Sure enough, she was standing at the edge so he could see her. The mischievous smile she wore before was gone. He wondered if she knew Chantale was waiting on him earlier. Now she might have been curious as to what transpired between them. Was she displeased? Her expression wasn't as anxious as those around her.
"She gifted," Chantale answered from the shadows of that first room, "but not like us."
"But she is gifted." Joseph said. He looked down at the flower still in his right hand. "So she can help me find someone who can get inside there."
"Dat is," Chantale offered, "if Eliska really in dare."
"Either way," Joseph said, lifting his gaze to find Tamara again, "I've got to get inside."
"I keep tryin'." Chantale said.
He turned his head to the side as though to peer through the doorway, "The others can't help?"
"Day already help." Chantale said.
His head still turned, he lifted his eyes enough to spot the pile of flowers and spices. Grinning, he scolded himself for not
seeing that as more than a kind gesture. "Still, I just wish you weren't having to stay inside there alone."
"Den try not take long time finding help." She said.
Smiling, he said, "I'll try my best."
"Take care, Joseph." She whispered, her voice fading away.
He knew she was stepping back further inside the building. Yet, he responded anyway, "You too, Chantale."
Stepping away from the entrance, he crossed the glistening lawn. The bulk of the crowd on the other side of the river stood at a distance from the sugarcane. There were others that filled in that space between the crowd and the edge of the crop. While they all watched him, he was headed for those loners, his eyes locked with Tarama's.
Once she realized he was walking in her direction, she blinked and her eyes widened. As he neared the bank opposite the village, she straightened her back, digging her fingers into the folds of her apron, and her lips slowly stretched outward. When he stopped at the edge of the bank, her smile was complete.
Murmurs passed along the rest of the crowd, but Tamara said nothing as Joseph stared at her. Offering her a slight grin, he said, "So…according to the rules, since you took from me first, that grants me a request."
Her smile stretched wider, and she tightened her grips upon her apron. She nodded rapidly as the women near her giggled to one another.
"Alright." Joseph said, raising the flower in his right hand, "I suppose I wanted to save the final mark for when I arrived next. Well here I am, and my plans are progressing," He nodded at the tower behind him, "despite the present circumstances. So, to return my gratitude to everyone's affections, let these be that final mark."
Every face looking his way smiled, even with the gray
monstrosity looming over them. Tamara lowered her face and reached up with her right hand in order to try and cover her mouth. She was smiling so wide.
With a warm grin, Joseph extended the flower forward.
Tamara snapped to attention. Looking down once more, she brushed loose the crumpled folds of her apron and then breathed out. Relaxed, she lifted her head and took a few steps forward. Now at the very edge of the bank, and with the
rest of the villagers going silent, she extended her right hand, her palm turned upward.
Joseph felt the breeze touch his back and brush over his shoulders. He released the flower, and the breeze caught it. Going into a quick ascent, the flower tumbled up-side-down, and then dropped.
Falling past Joseph's face, the flower plummeted petals-first for the river below. Just as it was about to pass the top of the
bank, it froze in mid-air. The breeze was still pulling across the river, but the flower's petals didn't even flutter.
His attention upon the tiny bloom, Joseph then caught
colorful movements arriving at his feet. Circling around his heels, the flowers and spices from the pile floated ahead of him. Passing up the one flower, one after the other, they found a spot there above the river, freezing in place, forming a line that grew toward the opposite bank.
Seasoning the air, Joseph thought, while planting a garden where there was no dirt. The cloud of dust, stems, and petals unfolded until ending with a final sigh in front of Tamara's feet. Her hand still raised, she lowered it by her side and then beamed at Joseph.
He studied her arrangement. Each piece was small or thin, even nothing more than tiny sprinkles barely seen, but they not only made a straight line between the banks, they spread to either side. What was arrayed out over the river was a film of little colors.
With Tamara and everyone else waiting on the other side, he took his first step. Placing his foot out over the river, there was no difference between the firmness of the lawn and this new surface. Shifting all his weight upon that foot, he brought his other foot forward.
Being barefoot, he could feel the texture against his soles, sensing the small spaces between each flower and sheet of spice. Yet, each piece was arranged to where those spaces acted like the emptiness found among the strings that made up a fisherman's net. His weight never caused the pieces to give or spread in order to compensate for the strain.
He walked boldly across, and the villagers called out and gasped. Moving upriver, the crowd squeezed next to the sugarcane. Before he made those final steps, some were already reaching out to him, but it would be Tamara whose hand he would grip first. She pulled him into her, and they
embraced.
Those around them hopped and clapped and touched his
arms and shoulders. Joseph took one arm from around Tamara to wave it back and forth, feeling their fingers brush along his skin like blades of high grass. They whispered his name, taking turns bringing his hand to their cheeks.
He nodded, saying each of their names. Those already
near him would then step back to allow another to take their place. He didn't know how many minutes went by, but he wanted to say all of their names, not missing a single one.
When those who began in the very back were now surrounding him, he was finally able to speak to them as a group. "Yes, the past few times I was able to visit, I stood upon the new ground. It's nice to stand upon this ground with an established name again."
They wanted to cheer. Some did. Many nodded, their smiles faltering but remaining. He saw this, though, and the change in their eyes.
"I know." He said. "Tragedy has struck, but we will keep the name of this ground. And redeem it. And as for the new ground," he looked across the expanse Tamara created, "it has a name. It won't be wrenched from our grasp so soon."
"Eliska." Someone whispered.
Joseph spun his head back across the bulk of the crowd. He couldn't find who said her name, but he saw the overall loss of smiles.
He nodded, "We'll get her back. We've got work to do. Fortifications to build. Promises to keep." He dropped his gaze to Tamara. She was still embracing him, but she had pulled away just enough to look up into his face.
"I'm going to need your help." He told her. She beamed and nodded rapidly. "There are two people I need to find. I believe you can figure out where they are."
"Okay." She said.
"And as we succeed," he continued, lifting his head and voice for the crowd to hear, "let the newest mark be a manifest token of our progress. The more we redeem, the more we disarm the enemy, the sturdier that bridge will become."
"And then will you tell us the name of the new ground?" Tamara asked.
Joseph's smile brightened. "I will declare it."
"And it will be!" she cheered.
Their smiles returned, and they took up the chant. "It will be!"
"It will be!"
"It will be!"
As the call rang over their heads, Joseph looked down at Tamara again, lowering his voice so only she could hear him, "Walk with me upriver."