[M][Earth] Of the People

[Jarka]

Jarka eyed the dank walls of her new bedroom. It didn’t smell as musty as she had expected, but that’s not to say it held a pleasant odor. At least I’m on my own. Turning her attention to the bed, she sprawled across the black comforter and propped her chest on the pillow. Finally, the moment when she could finally examine her parcel had arrived.

Her fingers flew over the scattered contents as she attempted to organize them. Dozens of pamphlets of every imaginable color of cardstock formed a flurried rainbow on the dark blanket backdrop. Two books, bound in hardcover, were stacked near the edge of the bed. A variety of promotional items – pens, notepads, a coffee mug – lauded the name of her kischiatrist. Best keep these somewhat hidden. Still useful, though. Nevertheless, the objects were quite predictable, save for two: a chain necklace with a crystal pendant and a flimsy metal spoon.

With a slight shrug, the girl affixed the necklace and examined its faceted sphere. It was a nice enough gift, if a little strange from a doctor. She held the orb by its chain, letting it naturally twirl. The bedside lamp refracted into a thousand dancing glimmers across the spoils of her appointment. As she lost interest in the novelty of the twirling lights and clamped the necklace between her forefingers, the rays came to rest on the embossed lettering of her texts.

Jarka furrowed her brow as she read the title aloud. “So You Think You Can Move Objects With Your Mind, and…” Retrieving the second book, a bemused smirk flashed on her face. “Prophecy and You: A Beginner’s Guide to Foresight. Great.” The girl gingerly flipped through a few pages, allowing the paper to fan along her thumb.

A voice called from the other room. “Hey, Jarka!” She snapped the book shut. “How ‘bout you start out by helping me with dinner, huh?” The girl bundled her trove back into their satchel and tucked it under the bed. Straitening her skirt, she entered the main quarters of the apartment and quietly shut her bedroom door.

Hati and Skoll sat on the couch, bickering over an issue that sounded irrelevant. Sigfried stood by the stove, fists clenched. Although he was draped in the red sweatshirt, she could tell his body was tense.

“You all right? You seem… pissy.”

The boy exhaled and cracked his neck before responding flatly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“O-kay, well, uh… let’s see what we have to work with.” Crossing over to the refrigerator, the cook opened the door. It wouldn’t have been surprising had moths fluttered out to signal the dire condition of its contents. Empty takeout containers huddled in the corner next to milk that had long since expired. An old telephone handset sat in the vegetable crisper.

Sigfried sat on the counter, an easy task considering his height. “How’s it look?”

“Um… there’s a few salvageable things. I see a few eggs – nope, they’re all cracked. A can of cola. A box of chocolate… cake mix? You keep a box of cake mix in the fridge?”

The boy tossed his head towards the pair on the couch. “Probably Skoll.” As if on cue, the crack of the taser preceded a yelp by Hati.

Jarka turned on her heels to face the sofa. “All right. Hati. Skoll. I have a mission for you.” The two perked up, and Skoll flashed a mock salute. “First order of business: I need paper and a pen.” Hati was quick to provide the supplies. Biting her tongue in concentration, the girl scribbled across the surface of the notepad. “You two. Fetch me the items on this list.”

Hati glanced over her itinerary. “These are all groceries.”

“Exactly.” The girl pointed two fingers at her eyes, then turned her hand so each finger pointed menacingly at the men. Following another mock salute, the pair trumped out the door.

Sigfried cocked his head. “Why do I have the feeling that didn’t have much to do with supplies?”

“Oh, you guys need groceries. It just so happens that I find those two kind of distracting – and not in a good way. Don’t you?”

The boy responded only with a grimace.

Jarka rummaged through the cupboards. “Anywho, I have an idea. Might work. Won’t be too hard, either.” A mixing bowl was placed on the counter, soon accompanied by a cake pan. She waggled a spatula at her companion. “You just have to trust me.”

Had the cook not already started to work, she might have heard Sigfried mumble, “I make no promises.”

*****

Sigfried couldn’t quite form an opinion on the newcomer. She was spunky, that’s for sure – he hadn’t expected Skoll and Hati to listen to her so quickly. Yet, she didn’t make him feel threatened. He felt almost like she was self-centered, like all she gave a shit about was being able to cook. She wouldn’t struggle to take charge as long as she had a skillet. If that was the case, fine by him.

She was almost enough to distract him from the thought of Roy and Victoria. Almost. He pictured them walking down an empty avenue. Roy would walk just to soak up the ambiance, to play up the romance. In the glow of the streetlight, Victoria’s hair would be an ethereal, unnatural color like melting sherbet. Roy would fight with whether he should sling his arm around her waist, but he’d chicken out. Victoria would flash a shy smile and twirl her hair. The locks twisting between her fingers would –

Jarka snapped her fingers in his face. “Hey. Bing-bong. You helping me out or what?”

“Y-yeah. What do you need?”

The girl thrust a can of cooking spray into his hands. “Grease the pan. Good spritz, then rub it with a napkin. Bottom and sides.”

Sigfried followed her instructions. The napkin slid easily across the metal surface as it spread the slick of oil across the bottom, along the sides, and into the corners. Grease seeped into his napkin and began to coat his fingers. Because the task didn’t require his full attention, he allowed himself to idly coat the pan as he watched the girl work.

Jarka’s fingernail caught the tab on the soda can. Her forefinger arched; the torque pressed open the metal. She shifted her weight to one side as she poured the entirety of the fizzing liquid into the mixing bowl. The box of cake mix was retrieved. To open it, the girl ran her fingers under the length of the cardboard top.

Victoria would run her fingers down the length of Roy’s arm before sliding them into the crook of his elbow. The motion would be smooth, natural. Like they’d done it a million times before. Like they’d do it a million times more. Like –

“Can you grab me the spatula?”

Wordlessly, Sigfried handed her the utensil. She stirred the soda as she poured the dry cake mix into the mixing bowl. As the limited ingredients blended, her strokes became faster, harder. A batter had formed, smooth as any raw cake he had ever seen.

The cook offered the spatula to him. “How’s it taste?”

He took a small nibble of the batter. “Like cake.”

Jarka rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise.” She peered into the bowl and dipped her index finger into the mix. With hardly a pause, she licked her finger and nodded.

Victoria would bite her index finger and flash a teasing glance at Roy. Roy would lean over to her ear. Butterflies would tumble through Roy’s stomach as he absorbed the sweet scent of her hair. He would whisper, “Maybe-”

“Maybe you should give me that pan? I think it’s pretty greasy by now.” Jarka had an incredulous look on her face. Sigfried, used to that kind of expression, obliged her request. The pan was filled with batter and placed in the preheated oven. As the box instructed, a timer was set for twenty-five minutes.

“Now we wait?” Sigfried watched the girl nod and stride to the sofa.

*****

Jarka was considering her new surroundings when Sigfried plopped onto the couch next to her and crossed his arms with a huff. The two sat in a silence that grew increasingly awkward as the boy grew increasingly more sullen.

After growing tired of his seething, the girl finally spoke. “So, Roy seems nice… if you’re into that sleazy politician and his bimbo ‘personal assistant’ kind of thing.”

Although he initially seemed on the brink of outburst, Sigfried ended up guffawing at her remark. “Yeah. I fucking hate him.” He leaned closely to her. “Although, word to the wise: Victoria isn’t a bimbo.”

Jarka raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. I thought that came with the territory. Y’know. Golddigging.” She regarded the boy’s anguished expression. “Unless… a certain somebody has feelings for her.”

“No,” The boy leaned back. “Absolutely not. I just- I don’t want her fucking over everything we’ve worked for. She isn’t who she says is. She’s hiding something.”

The girl’s fingers instinctively twirled around her crystal pendant before she murmured, “Aren’t we all?”

After a pause, Sigfried snapped his fingers. “So, Jarka. Tell me about yourself.”

“I cook, what else is there?”

“Oh, you know, where you grew up, what you’ve done with your life, what you’re hiding from me. The basics.”

She laughed. “I grew up in the suburbs. Worked a bunch of jobs I hated, finally got a job I loved. Then that ended, and now I’m here. As for what I’m hiding, that’s a big old none of your beeswax. It’s not important, and it won’t get in the way of my job. Or ECM’s mission, for that matter. So don’t ask.”

Sigfried tossed his hands up in a mock surrender pose. “All right, all right. But, hey, high five for underachievers.” He extended his hand towards her.

Jarka rolled her eyes and returned the gesture. “And you? What dire deeds have you done?”

She couldn’t help but notice the boy wince before he answered. “Failed college student. I got hooked up with ECM, and here we are.”

“Really? You expect me to believe that? Everybody’s shaking in their boots around you.”

He smirked. “I’m just loveable like that. Also, tasers.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You don’t really - ”

An incessant beeping filled the room. Sigfried jumped up. “Perfect timing! Skoll and Hati should be here any minute.”

True to his word, the pair arrived shortly after the cake was pulled from the oven. The kitchen was filled with a cacophony of chatter while groceries were stored in their proper place. Considering who was doing most of the sorting, Jarka was surprised at how neatly the cupboards were loaded.

When they neared the end, Sigfried groaned. “Guys, how did I know you were going to break the rule?” He hoisted a box of wine from a plastic bag.

Hati snickered. “It’s a special occasion! We have a new roommate… and no more Roy!”

“Okay, just this once. You hear me?” Sigfried plucked the final item from the bag. With a flourish, he handed the jar of icing to Jarka. “I assume this is for you?”

“Why, thank you!” The cook fetched another spatula and used it to plop the vanilla frosting onto the cooled cake. The sugary topping spread fairly evenly over the surface of the chocolate pastry, with mild wakes left by the path of the spatula. “Now, who’s hungry?”

*****

Cheap wine flowed freely and mingled nicely with slices of the chocolate confection. Sigfried grinned wildly while watching Skoll and Hati chase each other. Each wielded a banana and a cucumber like swords as they danced across the living room. At least they weren’t real blades. They were decent enough to, while showing off, not terrify the girl they were trying to impress. Glancing to Jarka, he was glad to see she was enjoying the show as well.

Her laughter was real, as was her generally pleasant demeanor. But, when she wouldn’t think anybody was looking, he would occasionally see a glimmer of something heavier. It wasn’t sadness. It would probably be best described as a burden. Like there was something weighing on her mind. Sigfried was reluctant to admit it, but it concerned him.

Roy concerned him. Roy would be waiting for Victoria to clean up her room. He’d be too much of a pussy to just go in; he’d wait for her to fetch him when she was ready. He’d be sitting –

Hati let forth a gurgling shriek. Skoll smashed the banana into his face, laughing maniacally. “Your soul is mine!” The remnants of the fruit were smeared into loser’s hair.

“Aw, fuck. Now I’ve gotta shower.”

Skoll stuck out his chest. “And now I have to go to bed victorious.” He glanced at his fallen comrade. “Eh, suppose I’ll help him clean up. Don’t want puke on my sofa. M’lady.” He grasped Jarka’s hand and planted a kiss on her knuckle. His balance waivered, and he collapsed into a heap of uncharacteristic giggles. After righting himself, he grabbed the significantly drunker Hati by the collar and shoved him towards the bathroom.

Roy would be watching the bathroom door, waiting while Victoria changed. They would have ordered a meal. He could open the door on her, but he wouldn’t do it. He was too much of a gentleman. He would just sit there, hands rubbing his knees as he stewed with excite-

Jarka playfully slapped Sigfried’s knee. “We’ve got a bit of a mess to clean up.” Her words carried a bit of a slur. She held out her hands expectantly. “Help me out, here.”

The boy righted himself and cracked his back. Now that he was standing, the effects of the alcohol flooded his brain, leaving him wobbly on his feet. He grabbed Jarka by the wrists and clumsily hoisted her upwards. She stumbled forward, but he grasped her by the shoulders.

Roy would be putting his hands on Victoria’s shoulders. He would be pushing her down onto the bed, no doubt emulating a movie he had seen. He would be leaning close, aching to kiss her. Victoria would be breathing heavily.

Sigfried could smell Jarka’s sweet breath inches away from him. He smirked. “Race ya.”

The two stumbled towards the kitchen countertop. As the girl got ahead, Sigfried pulled her by the hips to slow her down. Dishes clattered as they piled them in the sink. Sigfried grasped the box of wine.

Roy would be grasping her body. He would be kissing her. He would be slipping his tongue –

The only object that remained was the frosting coated spatula. Jarka and Sigfried glanced at each other, at the spatula, and back at each other. A stumbling dash commenced. Both hands reached out to the utensil.

Roy would be reaching his hand out to hers. She would be moaning. He would interlock his fingers into hers.

Their fingers brushed as they each grasped the spatula, and both froze. After a moment, Sigfried laced his fingers into Jarka’s and pressed his body against hers. She turned her head towards him; her brow furrowed. She leaned closer. Without a thought, he pressed his lips against hers.

*****

On a hill, a sapling grew. Delicate buds formed along its sprightly branches, but it was thirsty. An old man noticed the young tree and decided to nourish it. He returned to water the tree, which rewarded him with bright, beautiful apples every time it grew. One day, as the man was watering the tree, a hawk swooped down with an axe and chopped off a branch. It fell, killing the man. Now the hawk cared for the tree. The hawk built a nest in the tree, and every branch it touched grew a different fruit. Finally, the last branches of apple attacked the hawk and it crumpled into a tiny songbird.

Flustered, Jarka pulled away from the kiss. The pair shared a bewildered look, although she hoped he hadn’t shared in her vision.

The girl finally spoke. “Let’s… Let’s never do that again.”

“Agreed. That was like kissing my sister.” Sigfried stepped back, rubbing his temples.

Jarka plopped the spatula in the sink before turning back to the boy. “You’ve kissed your sister?”

“N-no, I meant… Agh, never mind. I’m drunk. That was stupid. Listen,” He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “Forget this happened.”

“No problem.” The girl headed to her room, leaving Sigfried cursing in the kitchen. What the hell was that!? A fucking storybook? Kai! After a moment, she popped her head out of the room again. “Hey, Sigfried?”

The boy shot forth a pained expression. “What?”

“Night, ‘bro.”

He chuckled, looking slightly relieved. “Night, ‘sis.”

*****

As life often does, the results of the drunken kiss surprised Jarka. Instead of being unbearably awkward around each other, the past two days had been extremely comfortable between her and Sigfried. There was no subconscious tension; neither felt any non-platonic desires. They could simply focus on the mission at hand and enjoy the benefits of a blossoming friendship.

Of course, she had little explanation for the vision she had. Of course, she determined it to be some sort of prophecy, but it had been so much more cryptic than her previous experiences with foresight. Skimming her text had only provided limited references to visions of that sort. She would have to research more when she didn’t have other, more pressing matters on her mind.

She was baking. She couldn’t stop to think. There was no time. Hundreds upon hundreds of cookies and cupcakes.

Sigfried had been ecstatic when she’d told him her idea. Skoll and Hati had even pitched in to help, before getting distracted over a quarrel.

Now she was in her zone. She was only vaguely aware of him arguing with some woman at the door – was it Victoria? No matter. She had to keep producing.

She needed to be ready for the Earth’s Combined Militia Activism Awareness Bake Sale.