HER WEEKEND SCHEDULE USUALLY involved her helping Mr. Ghotham mend the apothecary situated at the busiest point in Kawah Valley; the Bazaar. Though since five years ago her father had Jeremiah to assist and he had done his work diligently, her father still needed her help because on weekends customers doubled compared to weekdays. It was due to the fact that Kawah Valley Bazaar was one of the concentrated and biggest markets in the country where most of the visitors mainly from the soldiers family that lived up on the northern border and also merchants from The Great Kingdom of Maha.
Yet that day business was a bit slow. A lot of the customers came in the morning and when the sun started to hang above their head, the number dwindled. Stella even got the time to reflect her odd behavior on yesterday event.
Jill did not attend class after her rude remarks that day. Jacq said she was sick but Stella thought it was because of what had happened in class before was the reason for her absence. She wanted to ask for forgiveness but she held her tongue. She remembered what Jill had said before and she does not know what to do. Or she does not understand what Jill meant. Maybe there was more than what Gitto had taught her? Was not the apology was supposed to be an act of basic etiquette in normal social values?
"The weather has gotten a lot worse these days," said Dr. Hemsworth, one of her father loyal customers. He came every month to pick up herbs supply and he lived in the mountain near the border where the military troops were stationed. Though Dr. Hemsworth appeared stern looking and might snap someone's neck if you ever tried to start a conversation with him (that was what Jeremiah said to her) sometimes he does come to the shop bearing stories of recent ambush or the recent shuffle of top military officers.
"The recent news on the radio said that our queen condition is not improving either," her father commented. He was looking at his customer, searching for acknowledgment in his customer's face, which the supplied batch this month was up to his customer expectation. The trust that they had built for the past three years would not her father misused even if the weather worsened or that the economy declining.
"Still, to compare that the herbs that grow along the border of Surka near Bour Hill, the leaves were brittle and the colour and smell of the flowers were beyond comprehension..." he sighed. "Yet you managed to provide me better quality herbs I could ever find in this country, Sullivan." Dr. Hemsworth placed the herb that he examined back on the counter table. His face shows satisfaction as he always did when he finished examining it.
Her father smiled. "God blessed," he said while his hands delicately wrapping his product into its wrapper, then to be inserted into a big box containing Dr. Hemsworth other order. "We were lucky that we managed to harvest it a week before year end. The crops were dying that week. Every year," he added. After that, the process of buying happened. The one that she always wanted to do but she cannot.
Both her father and Dr. Hemsworth put out their hands on top of the big box and said their incantations.
"I, Sullivan Ghotham sell my herbs to you, Ottawa Hemsworth."
"I, Ottawa Hemsworth buy your herbs from you, Sullivan Ghotham."
The box glowed a brilliant blue. The air circulated around them making their hair ends floated. "Room 7, medical facilities, Bour Military Base, Bour Hill, Grace."
Every time she witnessed the delivery transaction, she cannot help herself from staring at her father calm face, at Dr. Hemsworth's glowing back, and at the magic that slowly dissipated along with the big box. Since she had no magic to carry out the process, she had always been the one to step back and see.
At the far end of the counter, she noted Jeremiah entertaining a group of schoolgirls from Kimberly Institute based on the style and colour of their uniform. They bought ingredients for making a potion that she did not recognize (potion making was regrettably one of her weak subjects since one of the key ingredients none other than magic itself).
"I heard that there this rebel group; the anarchist, are kidnapping girls around your daughter's age."
Stella could feel Dr. Hemsworth gaze fell on her masked face. His eyes were assessing her feature and his voice was so low that the words formed on his mouth sounded so heavy and full of warning. "Especially those who had raven hair like her. The government didn't want to alarm the people for it will cause mass fear but I hoped that you kept a close eye on her."
Before he went, Dr. Hemsworth paid his transaction and bowed 45 degrees with his fedora was on his stomach. It was a sign of gratitude and promise to come for his next buy out next month.
"Thank you and please come again," she saluted as he walked out the shop, head lowered and his fedora back on his head. His coat fluttered behind him. Every month she bid him pleasantries when he left the shop, she cannot help herself but think that his behavior was kind of similar to a noir character in the film she saw on theater with Gitto years ago.
She walked to her father and a question popped out of her mouth like a popcorn kernel that had been heated for so long when it finally popped because it was the time for it to pop. "What does he mean by that father?"
Stella could see her father worried crease on his forehead but Mr. Ghotham being Mr. Ghotham, he patted her shoulder with his gentle fatherly touch. "You heard what he said, dear. If any strangers come to you, run and never look back. Copy that?"
She rested her head on the counter while her eyes trailed to her father, who nonchalantly arranged back the jars that he brought down from its shelf. Some of it had to use the ladder and store it inside a closed cupboard that lined along the walls of the shop. That was not she had wanted for an answer and it seems as though her father made it looked like he did not exactly understand her question.
"What is anarchist? Why there is one? Why did they kidnap girls? Why black haired girls?" she fired him question after question when she saw that her father needed help to hand the herbs to him.
Mr. Ghotham laughed at her questions. He did not perplex by her sudden onslaught. "Back at it eh?" he jested her with his crooked smile. He closed the shelf doors that stored small jars of agrimonies, apple leaves, and basils that usually used for treating wounds and digestions remedies. When both of his legs reach the cemented floor, he quickly took a stool that Stella handed him and sat with a relieved sighed.
"You did know that this country is governed by the royal family and that they were entrusted by our god to contribute their energy in making sure that the kingdom is peaceful and flourish. When the queen fell ill, the kingdom became ill. The earth beneath us, the sky above us, the air we breathe and the water we drank. God gave us land to govern accordingly but when it was misappropriated, the balance will be tipped and that is why there is an anarchist. They become one because they think they can do the job a lot better than the royals are but as to the reason why they kidnap girls is far fetch for me to know don't you think dear?"
"Do you think what they did was right?"
"They may have the best intention but if their resolve is by kidnapping someone else daughter, it doesn't prove that they are good people. Now go have lunch with Jere. I'll look after the store and I want the usual please," her father pushed her towards Jeremiah who had done his business with the school girls and was waiting for her by the threshold.
She could say that she 'like?' her father when it comes to when he answered her question though sometimes he liked to dodge it by redirecting it to Gitto. Her father would say it one by one as if she was a child that needed guidance yet he answered her fully as she was deemed to it. Her father was smart and kind and caring. He showered her with love as much as her mother had and all she could ever do for them was to be a good girl.