Building Bridges (aka. This Bit Goes Here, That Bit goes there…)
By Jemmiah
Bricks.
Big, red, plasti-form bricks. Lots of them.
Mace Windu sat amongst the brightly coloured blocks that lay scattered all around him, picking up one of the palm-sized cubes in his hand and regarding it thoughtfully. Those that were not strewn about his feet had been stacked neatly in the classical interlocking position so that they formed a sturdy and secure foundation on which to continue building. Of course he could pretty easily whip all the bricks into order by using the force, but where was the fun in that? The appeal lay in being able to sit and patiently work things out, using his own manual dexterity and his much-vaunted ability to solve problems.
He was king of the Jedi temple crèche: unmatched and unrivalled by any other in the room with him.
Along with all the bricks there lay numerous discarded toys: a mock-up speeder made out of two old chairs, art equipment including dried up brushes and paint encrusted palates, plus a rather forlorn and miserable looking Bantha who stared across at Mace as if pronouncing judgement on his endeavours. The Bantha had clearly seen better days.
Just like some of the crèche masters.
Being a carer couldn't be easy; Mace realised as he brought the next brick down on top of the other, snapping it into place. He fought the urge to bite his lip, focusing on the task in hand. This bridge of his would be the best scale model ever! Master Yoda was forever telling him that if a job was worth doing then it was worth doing well. Here was the very proof! There had never been and most certainly never would be another model so well constructed…why, in years to come they would most likely exhibit it as an example of his cleverness! And it was all his own work. Could Qui-Gon have created such a piece of art? Would the likes of Dex Berlingside even have the inclination or the attention span for such an undertaking? Mace smiled, his heart filling with genuine pride at his achievements.
They said he was serious, more so than the average for his years, but Mace didn't see what was wrong with that. He had a naturally taciturn nature: not disagreeable by any stretch of the imagination but given to solitary thoughts and an appreciation of his own company. Well, did it really matter if that was so? He was like one of the bricks; he realised, chewing idly at one of them as he pondered the next part of his bridge. Each brick worked well on its own but when placed beside another formed an efficient and formidable team. Maybe he didn't have Berlingside's sunny nature that made him an immediate hit with Masters and Initiates alike, but he was certain deep within his heart that there was no individual in the temple so dedicated...so devoted to the ways of the force.
Aware that he had an audience, Mace looked up to see a pair of bright little eyes regarding him with much interest. It was HER again…the one that kept pestering him! The one with the shimmering gold skin that turned purple like an angry squid whenever she got mad! Every time he so much as grabbed another brick she would trot over to him on her stubby little legs. He really hoped she didn't have a crush on him! This time there was something slightly different about her appearance: for some reason best known to herself the girl had a large pudding bowl on top of her head with the pureed contents slowly but surely dribbling down the side of her cheek and onto her thin shoulders. It made her look as if she had some kind of fungus growing out of her ear…
"We're all eating." She said after a slight pause. "Don't you want to eat?"
Mace grunted in reply, his hand poised over his construction in readiness to snap the next brick into place. He was at a critical stage in the construction and couldn't afford to have his concentration spoiled by such trivialities as eating!
"Aren't you hungry?" She asked, pouting as Mace ignored her.
"No." Came back the reply.
"Won't you play with us?"
"I'm building." Mace answered, focusing on his bridge. "Now, let's see. That bit goes there…this bit goes here…"
The girl stared with disgust at the serious, cross-legged figure of Mace Windu, wishing that his silly bridge would fall down and forcing him to start all over again. She stamped her feet loudly, making a point of kicking the raggedy old Bantha along the floor for a good five paces or so before joining the others who were drawing smiley faces in the cream pudding, or levitating their bowls into the air above each others heads. Most managed to keep theirs aloft but others, as witnessed by her own sorry state, had not yet attained total mastery of the force.
The central door opened with a gentle swish. Every child in the room looked up and instantly forgot about the levitating pudding bowls, letting them fall to the floor in a collective clatter of ear-splitting proportions. Every one in the room ran forward, arms outstretched, waiting to be embraced and hugged by their returning carer.
The crèche master surveyed the room with a horror that suggested that a tornado had swept through the building, leaving a trail of devastation and chaos in its wake.
"What has happened here?" She demanded, having finally regained the power to speak. "Who is the cause of this mess?"
The little golden skinned girl ran to the crèche master and threw herself around the woman's knees, grabbing hold of the edge of her long, pale green tunic and twisting the fabric in her fingers.
"He won't play with us!" The girl complained. "He won't eat with us! He's being horrible: he won't let us have the bricks!"
"Who won't?" The crèche master asked; appalled that someone would dare to be so horrid as to monopolise the toys.
The child pointed through to where Mace Windu sat, one brick in each hand, guiltily caught in the act.
Crèche Master Evla Sovalla's eyes narrowed ominously.
"Is that so?" She replied, rolling up her long sleeves and watching as Mace hung his head in abject shame. "The council will be hearing about this! Because let me assure you," her hands went instantly to her hips, "It's the last time I'm letting Master Windu fill in for a sick creche master!"