Don't let go of my hand! Aunt Beru's words play inside Luke's head over and over. He should have listened. But holding your Aunt's hand when you're eight years old? In public? No way! Luke wouldn't have any of it. Instead, he hung onto her jacket sleeve and trailed behind her. That was until some lady with a great big cart passed them by and knocked Luke onto his back. Now, Luke wanders around the busy market place, searching desperately for some sign of Aunt Beru or Uncle Owen. Do they know he's gone? Luke takes a deep breath, starting to worry. Maybe he should have held Aunt Beru's hand. She said that the market gets very busy when things go on sale, and it is easy to get lost. He should have listened to her.
He can feel the hot sand on the soles of his feet, even through his boots. He stops and lifts up one foot. A few tears in worn out places remind him that he should probably ask his Aunt if she would make him some new ones. If he ever finds her. He passes by a spice vendor, and plugs his nose tightly, hoping the smiling old woman sitting beneath the awning of her cart won't notice. He isn't trying to be rude, but the smell of all the different spices mixed together causes the inside of his nose to burn, and sometimes, it makes him feel like throwing up. What's worse is that he's passed by her at least three or four times now, and he still hasn't found Aunt Beru or Uncle Owen. He searches around quickly, having to keep walking forward so that he doesn't get in anybody's way. He glances over at a stand with cooked and fried birds hanging from its awning. The smell tempts him to come over there, but he thinks that would be weird, especially because Fixer and his dad aren't working the stand this week. Instead, a tanned young woman is busy hanging up the birds, and then selling them. She looks like Aunt Beru, but Luke knows that it's not really her. Aunt Beru has darker hair. This woman's hair looks like it's white, even though she's not old. She's pretty, Luke decides.
He hopes they're looking for him. He tries to listen carefully for Aunt Beru or Uncle Owen's voice, but all he can hear is the loud hum of everybody's idle chatter, and soon, he wants to give up hoping. He tries to cut his way through the crowd, so he can find a place to sit down. All this walking has been tiring out his legs, and a pain is starting to creep through his side. He weaves his way through carts, children, parents, and even a womp rat. He looks down at the ground, looking for a break in the crowd where he can escape. Then, he finds himself being struck in the side by a boot, and he lands on the ground hard. A strong hand wraps around his wrist, and Luke finds himself being jerked up, back to his feet. He looks up, and he's not sure if the person he's looking at is a man, or an old teenager. Their eyes meet, and Luke rubs his side, trying not to cry.
"Watch where you're going, whelp!" He lets go of Luke's wrist. Luke rubs the red finger marks on his skin.
"I'm sorry," he says. "I-I was just looking for my Aunt. I can't find her." The other boy rolls his eyes.
"You're lost? You should have been holding her hand!" He grins to himself. Luke frowns.
"That's not funny. And you hurt my side!"
"Wasn't my fault! You were in the way when I was walking!" The other boy's face softens a little. "So you're lost. And you're looking for who?"
"My Aunt. Her name is Beru." The older boy shakes his head slowly. He tugs on the hem of his vest.
"Probably don't know her." He pauses. "What's your name, kid?"
"I'm Luke Skywalker," Luke tries to puff up his chest so that it will look like the older boy's. He's tough, Luke notes to himself. Maybe I should be, too. "So who are you? Some old teenager?" The other boy laughs.
"I'm Han," he says. "I'm sixteen, so yeah, I guess I am some old teenager." Han chuckles. "You seem like an interesting kid, Luke." He softly drums his fingers against the blaster tucked securely away in his belt.
"Why do you have a blaster?" Han raises his eyebrows incredulously. Luke knows this expression well; adults give him this look all the time when he tells them that he wants to be a pilot.
"'Cause I'm a smuggler," Han says cooly. "And I kinda need it, just in case I get into trouble."
"A smuggler?" Luke's blue eyes widen. "Really?"
"Well, sort of. I go on a few missions with some friends of mine." He nods slowly, and stares off into the busy market square for a moment. "So, what does your Aunt look like?"
"Well, she's pretty. And she's got dark blonde hair, and it's in a whole bunch of braids. And she's wearing a blue dress. I'll tell you if we find her."
"If? You mean when. When we find her."
Luke starts to wonder if it would be weird to hold on to Han's sleeve, as they weave in and out through the crowd. The crowd had thinned out a little bit in the fifteen or so minutes they spent looking for Aunt Beru. Luke wonders just how long he's been outside for, anyway. He also wonders if Aunt Beru even knows he's gone. A strong gust of wind comes up from behind the boys, and Han shouts a word Luke has never heard before, as the young man tries feverently to shake the sand out of his blue shirt. Han looks down at Luke quickly.
"Don't repeat that word, okay kid?" He laughs. "Even though you're gonna end up hearing a lot worse anyway!" Luke wrinkles his eyebrow. "Never mind," Han dismisses.
"Okay..." Luke reaches up to take Han's sleeve between his fingertips, but Han lifts his arm and points at a woman in front of them.
"Is that her?" Luke looks up and studies the back of the woman's dress. Aunt Beru's dress is long, and covers her ankles. This woman's dress is very short, and her legs are mostly covered by really high boots with flat soles. Aunt Beru is wearing sandals. Luke shakes his head sadly. Han sighs. Another huge gust of wind comes up, and soon, Luke finds that the back of his head has been pelted hard with sand.
"This wind is starting to bother me!" Han complains.
"I'm used to it," Luke replies. "But I think this means we're going to have a sandstorm pretty soon."
"Really?" Han pouts his lips for a moment, then sucks his bottom lip back in. "Well this is just great. Look, Luke, we're going to have to hurry if you're going to find your Aunt before the storm comes. If there's even one coming."
"I know."
Han and Luke walk around the market place once again, scanning the ever-shrinking group of people. The wind has gotten stronger, and now, instead of random gusts from behind, sand is being whipped and flown around in one hard gale. The young woman at the poultry stand is busy untying the birds and putting them in baskets. The old woman selling spices has closed her stand completely, and she and a younger woman make their way out of the market place. The world around them seems to go dim for a moment, and Luke looks up at the sky with squinted eyes to see that a huge cloud of dust had blocked out the suns. Instantly, everybody in the crowd began to pick up their pace, and Luke couldn't help but overhear sandstorm from everyone. His heart begins to beat quickly. He has to find Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. He hopes they're not too worried about him. Then, he realizes something. Uncle Owen is going to be very, very angry.
Luke swallows hard, trying not to think about what his uncle is going to say to him later. He takes a deep breath in, and then lets it out in a sneeze. He sneezes again, and again. Han looks down at him.
"You okay?" Luke nods, and sneezes a fourth time.
"I breathed in a bunch of sand!" Han snorts.
"That's why you shouldn't be all huffy like that on this planet. Don't worry, we'll find your Aunt Beru." At that moment, a breath of wind much stronger than anything Luke has felt in a long time blows up in front of them, shooting sand into their faces.
"Ahh!" Han cries out. "Bantha shi- I mean- fodder!" Luke's eyes are burning. Big teardrops roll down his face, and he lets out a frustrated groan. Han grabs Luke's wrist again, and he takes off in a run, Luke trailing behind as fast as his legs can carry him. "We're gonna go between those two buildings over there! We can get out of the wind that way!"
"What about-"
"Your Aunt? She's probably in some sort of shelter. It'll be okay. We'll look for her after the wind dies down." He and Luke crash into a couple of old crates in between two old buildings near the market. Han stacks the crates on top of each other, and blocks the wind out from their hiding place. He runs his fingers through his hair, and sand rains down onto the toe of his boot. He sighs.
After a few moments, the hustling and noise of the people outside fades out, and eventually disappears. Luke rubs his eyes, which still hurt. They begin to water all over again. He and Han sit down on the ground, and Han looks at Luke's red face.
"Crying?" Luke nods.
"Only because I got a bunch of sand in my face, and it really burns! I'm not a baby!"
"I wasn't going to call you a baby," Han says. "It does hurt getting sand in the face. Are you worried about your Aunt?" Luke nods again.
"And my uncle," he says. He looks down at his boot, and idly starts tracing patterns in the sand. "Aunt Beru will be happy once we find her, but Uncle Owen is gonna be so mad at me!" Luke resists the urge to cry for real. "He's going to yell at me!" He expects Han to laugh at him, or make fun of him, but instead, he doesn't.
"That's okay, kid," he says. "Before I ran away from home, my father was mean. REALLY mean. Actually, he wasn't even my real father. I'd get in trouble for everything. He'd hurt me too, sometimes."
"Really? My uncle gets mad at me lots, too! Aunt Beru says he's just trying to protect me, but I don't see how yelling and grounding me counts as protecting."
"Hmm. I kind of know what that's like, buddy. My father-" Han is cut off by a woman's voice outside their hiding place.
"Luke? Luke!" she calls. Luke lifts his head quickly. "Aunt Beru!" He calls back.
"Luke?" Luke stands up and pushes the crates over, letting the wind blow into their shelter. He jumps over the crates and into her arms. Han stands up slowly, shielding his face with his arm.
"Is that your kid?" he asks. Beru smiles.
"Yes! Thank you for watching him!"
"No problem." Beru looks at Han, and Luke senses that she feels concerned. She asks Han if he has anywhere to stay to get out of the storm.
"Yeah!" he says. He points at the building behind him. "There!" At that, he gives her a quick, friendly nod, and waves at Luke. "See ya, Luke!"
Aunt Beru grabs Luke's hand tightly, and the two of them run towards their speeder, Uncle Owen following behind. Luke hopes that they get home before the storm gets really bad, and that Uncle Owen doesn't decide to cast a storm of his own when they get home.