YAĞMURLU Kız
No one knew where she came from. Yet, here she was, standing in the doorway of our apartment house soaking wet from head to toe. Her long blonde hair was dripping down her wonderfully slender body. I couldn't help but stop my gaze when it hit her eyes. They are such a magnificent shade of greenish-blue. I have never seen such unique portals in all my life. The fact that she was covered from head to toe in the glistening scent of another ancient time hadn't hit me yet. But when it did. It hit me hard.
It hadn't rained in decades here on Mercer Street, But, here she is, covered from head to toe in what I faintly remember to be the sweet smell of water falling from the heavens above. Our world is in fact, experiencing a very low level of water in the last few decades. It's been an ongoing struggle since before I was even born, possibly even before my parents. The people here in the waterworks department spend the majority of their time trying to solve this particular crisis. We needed rain, and we needed it now.
All our water is harvested by machines from the earth below us or brought back from another sphere floating off in the vast unknown. All that water requires a lot of treatment, which can be a nasty business if not handled properly. We have had a few incidents here in Mercer. I don't think they have quite mastered the algorithms yet, seeing as we have been on a water shut down for almost a decade here. I was one of the people to work on the water algorithms when I first arrived here. I very much enjoyed my time down in what we used to refer to as the 'dungeon'. Many a late night was spent trying to solve the puzzle that is our lack of water here. It is a unique problem for the residents here in Mercer Street. The rest of the world and time that surrounds us still have near endless supplies of naturally occurring water.
You see we like to remain hidden from the prying eyes of the outside world. To most people, we are just a dream. An unavailable destination of which they will likely never know. You must have the frequency that was written upon the lomatonas stones by the ancient ones. The stones are locked away in the caverns below the Grandark Station in the center of the market. You can only get to them with the key that rests around the neck of the Keeper, the most divine man in Mercer.
Back to the water, all the people living here unanimously voted almost thirty years ago, to the day, to only use our water for gardens and crops to provide food and things for the market. The market is the lifeblood of Mercer Street. It is what connects us to all places in time and makes our little experiment here viable. So naturally, we wondered where she got so drenched in magic.
Key, my roommate, approached the strange woman eerily. He was inching his way towards her across our new wood floors. Slow and steady, his socks slid ever so slightly towards the door. I could tell he was nervous and put off a bit by the entire situation we have found ourselves in. I mean who wouldn't be a little perturbed by a strange figure just suddenly arriving on your stoop. Especially when your apartment house is at the end of the line. There is nothing else way out here. No neighbors. No nothing. It was a purposeful endeavor that we took on when we first arrived. Everyone in town thought we were a couple of nuts moving way out here at the end of the line.
"Uh hey there" Key said gently, trying not to startle the strange woman standing in our doorway.
No response.
Key looked in my direction as if to signal to me. I don't speak signal. Not knowing what to do, I stood there in silence like a statue. I made sure to keep my distance from the stranger in our doorway, there were two chairs and a coffee table between me and the door.
"Park, help me out here" Key said to me, he was inching closer and closer to the strange woman standing in our doorway.
Great, and now she knows my name.
"Can we help you?" I said without taking a breath. It just fell right out of my lips like an uncontrollable wave of rubbish. "Whats your name?" I asked further.
Still no response from the strange woman in our doorway.
I was growing increasingly paranoid of this strange figure in our doorway. I wont call it a woman anymore. It might not be a woman. For all I know it is the Devil herself waiting to be invited in so she can take our souls and eat our fresh baked sour rye bread. Well not on my watch. I slaved for hours over that rye bread. I made the flour myself in the courtyard out back, all afternoon in the hot sun. For what? So some demon can come into my home and relish in the fruits of my labor. Not today.
Just then I remembered that my sister's husband had recently given me a gun when they came to visit Key and I a few weeks back. He said they wanted me to be safe. "If youre going to choose to live in such a strange neighborhood here, you should at least protect yourself." I believe were his exact words. They were always referring to the lizard people that live in the Yonder Mountains that rest as a backdrop to our little compound.
I miss seeing my sister. I even miss seeing her creep of a husband. He means well. He just doesn't quite measure up to dreams I had for my dear, little sister.
I now find myself wondering how I was going to get to the gun that was in the nightstand next to my bed in my room. I tried to return the signal language to my roommate and faithful comrade in arms. No response. He wasn't picking up on my signals. Which were: DISTRACT THE FUCKING CREATURE SO I CAN GO GET THE FUCKING GUN IN MY ROOM.
He was looking at me like I am a blank sheet of paper. So I made an internal decision.
I am going to dash to the bedroom and hopefully the strange figure in our doorway doesn't kill and maim my good friend. My palms were getting sweaty but I had already convinced myself. 3,2,1. I dashed my way into my bedroom.
"My name is Margo."