Distraction: Chapter Twenty-One

When Master Yoda informed me Ben had left the planet, at first I didn't believe him. I ran through the muck and the mud, sinking up to my knees in some spots, coming to a stop where we had landed just two short days ago.

I was in shock. So it was true. There was no ship. There was no Ben either.

I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or split the skies with an angry shout. In the end, I decided on all three. Yoda, being the wizened Jedi he is, left me alone; either to deal with this emotional upheaval myself or else he didn't wish to be in the company of a woman obviously gone mad.

I gazed at my surroundings. Everywhere I looked was moss or mud, and the dense population of trees made it near impossible to view the stars. Why would anyone choose to live here? Oh wait, that's right. No one had! Yoda was only here because he was hiding. He had his reasons. Well, I had no intention of doing the same. Anakin had kept me hidden long enough and the way I looked at it, Ben was doing the exact same thing. The only difference was, I was very well aware of my situation.

"Ben! How dare you leave me here!" I screamed to the heavens while twirling around, just to make sure my message traveled in every direction.

And then I saw it. The cutest little log cabin I'd ever seen. I walked over to it and stared at the pattern he had inscribed upon the door. A charming wreath of flowers was burned there in a ring. I lifted the latch, opened the door, and stepped inside. There were two windows he'd covered with shutters to keep out the rain. It wasn't raining at the moment and I opened them to let him some light.

In one corner was a bed - the same one I'd used on board. Next to it was a small table and on it was my hairbrush and a mirror – also taken from the ship.

On the floor at the foot of the bed was a crate and inside it were all my personal belongings; my blue gown, shoes, underclothes, and several pairs of unisuits. Across from the bed was a slightly larger table with two chairs, a bucket, and a cabinet I recognized from the ship. Inside the cabinet were the majority of supplies taken from the galley. There was a metallic bucket hanging inside a rock-lined alcove obviously meant for cooking. Leaning against the wall were a variety of tools he'd apparently made himself; a shovel, long-handled dipper, an axe, and some sort of simple gardening tool. I held it for a second but quickly released it because it reminded me of my father who loved to garden.

My father – he probably thought I was dead. Not wishing to add melancholy to my madness, I cleared my mind and looked around once more, a slow realization coming upon me.

Ben made sure I'd have everything I needed, but I returned to the door. If he hadn't cared, he wouldn't have taken the time to mark these flowers there. At least that's what I was going to keep telling myself over the next days. He cared; just not enough to stay.

By the end of the first week, I still had not given up hope that he'd return, and I spent the majority of each evening listening for his ship. Yoda made his appearance once in a while, but I'm afraid I wasn't very good company these days.

On the tenth day, I was the one knocking on his door.

"Senator Amidala, something you need?" he asked politely.

"To get off this planet," I said, pleased with how calm I appeared when I was everything but. "And you can quit calling me Senator. You and I both know, the Senate has been dissolved. It's a worthless title."

"Very well," he quickly agreed. "Padme, it is then."

I almost told him to forget about it. For some reason, my first name sounded strange coming from him.

"Wish to leave, you do? Accomplish this, how will you? Your ship, gone it is. No trade route is this planet on. No visitors."

I realized all of this. What did he think I was? A simpleton? And he really needed to stop reading my mind. Was that a Jedi trick of his?

Stop. Breathe.

I closed my eyes and quickly worked out a mathematical problem in my head. There. Much better.

When I began speaking, my voice was trembling. "As far as I know, Jedi don't have wings. Don't you have a ship around here someplace? Something I could borrow?" It was a reasonable request. At least I thought so.

All I received in reply was a harrumph and a command to follow; which I did. On the other side of the cesspool that comprised his front yard, hidden beneath a variety of leaves and shrubbery was a ship. Sort of. It was a sphere and quite accommodating to him. And only him.

Stark reality slapped me in the face.

"For your own safety, this is!"

I let his words bounce off my back as I stomped my way back to the cabin.

"Help you meditate, I can! Help you find peace, it will!"

After I arrived home, I sat down on the log I'd drug over to the front step a few days ago and allowed myself to cry; a good, long cleansing weep. When it was finished, the light was fading and I hurried indoors. Like everything else on this planet, the bugs were not to be taken for granted.

I threw myself down on the bed and tried to think of anything except Ben, Dagobah, or Yoda. Suddenly, in my head was the voice of my older sister, Sola, who, as usual, was giving me advice.

"Feeling sorry for yourself is a waste of energy and it doesn't change a thing."

She was right. Although I hated to admit it, she was right. She usually was, although I'd never let her know that.

I mulled over her words and slept more soundly than I had since my arrival. The next morning, I was at Master Yoda's door again. This time, I was truly calm and quite humbled. "You mentioned something about finding peace?"

Yoda smiled at me, then asked me inside, and for the first time since I'd been left here, the cloud darkening my mood began to lift.