Creative Christianity: The Widow's Quest - Part2

(This is a fictional piece based on the parable of the widow and the judge from Luke 18. I wrote this piece for entertainment purposes only.)

By the time Constance got to the second check point the rain was torrential. Her coat felt heavy as it took on water, and her tool bag was completely soaked. Thankfully, there was a long line of people which, she hoped, would make it easier for her to just slide through without much notice.

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As she stood in the line, she noticed the other people waiting. It was a hobby of hers, people watching. She had always enjoyed sitting in obscure places to watch people. People were so interesting and unique. That was how she and Amos had met. He had been sitting on a different bench a little way away from her at the small park near her parents’ home. Apparently, he enjoyed doing the same thing. It wasn’t that unusual. If you weren’t part of DeCaro’s network, there wasn’t much else to do.

She noticed him sitting there, and he noticed her. Eventually, they noticed each other noticing each other. One day when she arrived at her spot, he was sitting on her bench with a bag. Inside were two sandwiches. His pick up line had been, “I made too many sandwiches this morning. Would you mind eating one so I don’t have to throw it away?”

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They both laughed. No one ever threw anything away in the Rift. Every morsel, every scrap contributed towards keeping you alive.

The people in the line were mainly workers, but there were a few Hy-Breds. These were people from the upper echelon that came into the Rift to gamble, buy drugs, and abuse whoever they could, just because they had money. One couple in particular was getting impatient and tried to cut ahead of others in line. This caused a small fight to ensue.

Check points at the perimeter of the Rift were actual guard stations, all employed by DeCaro. Several guards came out to break up the fight. There were at least two people who scooted past the check point without getting their papers stamped. The problem with this lay in the fact that if they got caught outside the Rift without their papers in order they would be sent back to DeCaro, and from there most likely sent to the Extermination Yard.

Constance kept her head down and stayed out of the way while the guards took control of the situation. The Hy-Breds were taken inside to warm up while they waited for a ride to take them home. The others who fought back were beaten and not allowed to cross.

It was all so incredibly unfair. That was exactly why she was willing to risk an audience with the Lord of Minward. She had no idea what sort of a man he was, but she knew she had to try to get his attention focused on the Rift and the people who were being preyed on who lived there.

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“Papers!”

The man behind the window was angry, Constance assumed, for having to deal with the fight. DeCaro’s employees preferred to not have to work. She quickly presented her papers. He barely even looked at them before he stamped them and shoved them back at her. She fought the urge to grab them and run. Instead, she began to fold them while she still stood in front of the window.

“Move along!”

Constance moved slowly as if she was still struggling to get her papers back into her coat pocket before the rain completely soaked them. What she was really doing was trying to make herself look as inept as possible. She walked away, breathing a sigh of relief.

Just because she was no longer in the Rift, didn’t mean she was out of danger. Not everyone in the city of Minward were law abiding citizens. She kept alert. She was thankful once the rain slowed eventually stopping. She crossed a few streets, but at the next corner she knew she was being followed.

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Running was not an option, so she decided to confront the person. She whirled, coming face to face with a young man, probably not more than twelve or thirteen. Startled, he stopped, looking at her with wide eyes.

“Can I help you, young man?”

“I…I…thought…maybe, I could help you…you know…for a little coin.” He gave her a sideways smile trying to look hopeful.

Constance sighed. “I’m sorry, lad. I don’t have any extra coin.”

The boy didn’t give up. “Well, what do you have in that bag? There’s got to be something valuable in there.”

Constance felt bad for the boy, but she also knew she wasn’t in a safe place. He might be working with a gang, and she could be surrounded before she knew it. “This is just my tool bag. Do you live around here?'“

“Here and there.”

She looked around, noting the windows, doors, and side streets. She didn’t notice any movement, so she started to relax.

“Where’s your family?”

“Dad left a while ago and hasn’t come back. My mom said, that’s because he’s no good. My mom….” It was plain to see the boy was grieving. “She got sick. Without a job, she couldn’t afford to go to the doctor. She died a few months ago.”

Constance’s heart broke for the boy. “You don’t have any other family? An aunt or uncle? Grandparents?”

He wiped at his eyes with his ragged shirt sleeve, and shook his head. “I had a baby sister, but she died when I was little. I never knew my grandparents.”

What could she do for this boy? She lived in the Rift. She was just as bad off as he was…well, that was not entirely true. She had been raised by two loving parents. She had known the love of a wonderful man. She had friends, and she had a purpose. An idea came to her; a crazy, but wonderful idea.

“Since I would be negligent to leave you alone would you like to come with me? I am going to see the Lord of Minward.”

The lad’s jaw dropped. “Do you have an invitation? I heard he don’t see anyone without an invitation.”

Constance was quiet for a moment. “Well, no, but I am going to see him anyway. I have to see him.” Her voice grew stronger. “Besides I could use the company, and you look like you could use a decent meal.”

“Hey! I thought you said you didn’t have any extra coin!”

“I don’t, for someone who is trying to take advantage of me, but I do have coin to share for someone who is a friend.”

The boy thought for a moment, then he smiled. “I can be your friend.”

“Good! Let’s be off then. I want to get to the upper city and the Manor of Minward by the time the sun is high over head. What’s your name, by the way?”

“My mom named me Peter, but you can call me Rocky.”

“Rocky it is. I am Constance, but you can call me Connie.”

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Constance wasn’t sure if she believed in God or not, but for some reason this young boy had wormed his way into her heart and her mothering instinct took over. She and Amos had tried to have children, but never did, and then he died.

Maybe, just maybe she was being given a second chance.

Creative Christianity - The Widow's Quest: Part 1

The following piece begins a series based on the passage found in Luke 18:1-8. It presents a fictional account with allegorical aspects which coincide with the parable told by Jesus in those Scriptures. This is a fictional story with a world, and characters built by me. I hope you enjoy it.

Constance made her way through the narrow, muddy streets, thankful it was raining. A constant downpour washed away some of the surface filth making her feel there was a modicum of cleanliness here in the Rift. She kept her head down, the hood of her coat concealing her face. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was going. If they found out she was on her way to the Manor of Minward they would beat her until she was no longer recognizable. The Black Needles didn’t appreciate the people of their ward asking for help. They didn’t need help. They could make it on their own.

Constance smirked beneath her hood. Neoplo “The Builder” De Caro wasn’t just known for building the run down, decaying ruins the people of the Rift had to live in, but for raising up the crime syndicate that preyed on the very people it was supposed to protect. She had seen enough; enough suffering; enough struggle; enough darkness. If the Lord of Minward was truly just, as she had often heard through her fourty-three years, why didn’t anything change? She was going to find out.

She was going to have to get past a few of De Caro’s check points. He wasn’t fond of people leaving his barony. He had an intricate web of knowledge woven together by his army of groveling lackeys. Constance learned from the time she was very young to blend in. She didn’t want to stand out. Being noticed by Neopolo, meant you became one of his, either that, or you conveniently disappeared. She felt bad for the younger people. De Caro’s appetite wasn’t just reserved for food and drink.

Constance felt bile rise in her throat, but she swallowed it, and clenched her fists. She wasn’t going to become just another of De Caro’s appetizers. She had to have hope; hope that the Lord of Minward would be able to make a change. Maybe he just wasn’t aware of how bad it was in the Rift. As the Lord of an entire city, he must be very busy, and maybe information wasn’t getting through due to De Caro’s influence.

The first check point loomed ahead. Her training in boiler maintenance should be able to get her through this one. She felt the tool bag by her side, then slid her hand into her coat pocket where the forged work papers printed on union stationary, and folded neatly, stayed dry from the down pour.

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Constance wasn’t alone in this quest. There were a few others who wanted a better life, and knew De Caro’s empire building wasn’t going to benefit them. She and Amos had formed a small group of other “believers”, which now was up to twenty members. They rarely all met together, but stayed in touch using messages sent via trusted couriers. Since the steam movement, and its subsequent advancements in communications, things like sending handwritten messages on foot had become obsolete. Now things were moved along through vast tubular networks both above and below ground pushed along by the compressed power of steam.

Amos had been like a little boy, completely enamored with the advent of the new Steam Era. He loved the machines, the gears, the noise and the power behind something so simple as heated water. She missed him terribly. It was coming up on five years since his death, but grief was relentless where darkness bred, and the Rift was a breeding ground for all that was dank, and miserable.

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Constance took a deep breath and moved confidently to the first check point. Each check point held a small booth barely big enough for one person, but often occupied by several of Neoplo’s goons. There were three of them in this one. They were chatting and laughing. There were several other people in line.

When her turn came, Constance pulled the papers out of her pocket and quickly shoved them through the small opening in the window.

The man looked down on her, from where he sat in the dry, heated booth.

“You in a hurry there, lass?”

Constance wanted to quip back she was old enough to be his mother, but didn’t reply, just shrugged. She found the best thing to do was not engage. Once you started talking, they became interested. She waited, turning to look at the line that was forming behind her. That was a good thing. The more people waiting, the less time they would take to push you through.

The man stamped her papers and passed them back through the window. As she reached to take them, he wouldn’t let go. She looked up at his scruffy face.

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“Smile, Sunshine. Life ain’t so bad. Doesn’t old De Caro take good care of his people?”

Constance swallowed the retort brewing in her gut, gave a shy smile and nodded her head.

“There we go! You have a good night now, lass!”

Constance placed the papers back in her coat pocket. As she walked away she let out a deep breath. One more check point to go.