Ugh...heat...I hate you...brain...won't...work...

"Man is that he might have joy."

-2 Nephi

Chapter 10

The place Rusl inevitably loaded me off to was not like the green hamlet I had left. For one, the only trees in sight were dead, and the sun blazed down unfiltered and caged by towering canyon walls. Even though night already had her shoulders over the horizon, the earth wavered with heat waves.

The little town that braced itself against the crag and stone looked dead. I mean, the houses were just as sunbleached and dusty as the land they had been built on, and I couldn't imagine any of them being habitable. When a tall, dark, olive skinned man with a wide mouth stepped out of one, I mentally stuffed my hands into my mouth. All I needed to do now was upset my new host...ugh, that had a bad taste to it.

"Rusl," said the new man in greeting the moment our little wagon came to a stop. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"It's not so much for me as it is for Link." Rusl pulled the letter I had watched Link so carefully pen and tied that morning and handed it to him. That immediately made me perk up, even though the fatigue of travel had worn me down to a nigh pancake in my seat. This was the man Link threw away three drafts in order to get his letter right. Renado.

As Renado read the letter, Rusl jumped off and offered a hand to me. I accepted it not because I wanted to. My knees and hips popped like I'd aged eighty years in a day. I hadn't any shoes to begin with, besides the oversized golashes, which I had left at Ilia's, so I got a hard, unyielding greeting to my blistered feet. I didn't stumble, though. The last bit of me I had declared stumbling an absolute no in the face of strangers, so neither of them caught hint or twitch of pain from me. I stood tall, shoulders back, face forward, hands folded before me.

Do not show weakness...

"I can't say I quite understand this," said the large man, a hand appearing from his tasseled sleeve to finger his chin. "A girl who has lost her memory, but he wants me to keep it that way?"

Rusl gave a weary grin that I instantly felt guilty for, but I didn't let that show either. "Say it like that and it sounds bad. It has to do with that...special friend of his. From the other side."

"Yes, he wrote that." Renado shook his head and folded the letter into his sleeve. "But I'll see what I can do." He didn't smile at me with his mouth, but there was something in the way the crow's feet appeared at the corner of his dark eyes as he turned to me. "Welcome. I am Renado, Shaman and Chief of Kakariko village. It says in the letter that your name is Midna, but that it doesn't have to be, so what is it you would like to be called?"

"Midna is fine," I said stiffly. Names could always be changed if necessary.

"Interesting character, ain't she?" said Rusl, as though I weren't standing right there. What was it with these small town folk blurting out their unasked for opinions? Wasn't anyone around me raised with an ounce of decorum?

Renado must have, for he just made a noise in his throat that was neither agreeing or disagreeing.

"Well, then. Midna, what can I do for you?"

That caught me. I mentally stumbled and my shoulders dropped without me.

What did I...in all this time, no one had bothered to ask me. They had just taken care of me like the helpless, useless thing I was with no thought that I'd actually have a valid opinion in the matter.

A roar of affection for this man rose in me.

"I'd like a job, sir."

He didn't look surprised, though his eyebrows did rise a little. Rusl did chuckle, though.

"She could probably use shoes too-"

I cut him off. "A job first. Before you try to attend to any of my needs, allow me my dignity in earning them first." I hesitated. "Please."

"The first step to healing one's mind is first healing one's pride as a being of worth," said Renado, and this time his straight, wide mouth moved to a real smile. "I completely understand. Would some dinner as we talk about employment be acceptable to you?"

I was liking this guy more and more. The way he spoke put me at ease, as though it were the familiar sounds of home. Perhaps this was where I was from.

Though I wanted to jump up and down and cry, 'that would be marvelous!' I found myself answering with a simple yes.

Rusl gave a low whistle, wagging his head in humor. "I guess I'll be off, then. The wife expects me back by tomorrow."

Renado didn't try to fight him to stay. He just bowed, as though he understood even better than Rusl how important it was that he head home that minute, and kept his place by the doorway of the large, two story...shack until Rusl's ride disappeared around the canyon bend. I stood vigil with him, for once perfectly content to not move a muscle.

When he moved, it wasn't to lead me back into the building he had just left, but rather off the sad plank deck and down the dirt road to a round structure I had noticed from the start was different from the others. For one, it stood apart from them, rather than sharing its sides with other buildings. For the second, it was like unto a dome, but with a flattened top. Patterns zigzagged about its sides with sunbleached cadence. One of those dead trees stood in a worn down yard besides it.

Little rocks dug through the bandages to my feet. My good mood at finding one of kindred spirit was quickly depleting as the ugly, bone dry town started its formal introduction by reminding me of every crack, sore, burn, and bruise I wore.

As we entered the door, I all but ran for the first servable seat I could find. So much for getting my pride back. Gods, I hurt!

Renado proved to be of the quiet sort, as he didn't linger to badger me with stupid questions, like whether or not I was okay or if he could baby me or do some other simpering crap to soothe his sympathy. His daughter, who only looked like him in eyes and hair, led me to the kitchen, where I once more demonstrated my nigh-uselessness. You'd think even a goat would be able to wipe a floor clean. It was as though I had never held a rag in my life and didn't know how to make it pick up dirt.

Unlike Ilia, though, who made a joke out of all my mistakes as though hoping to ignore the elephant in the room by laughing at how little it was, Renado's daughter said very little. She didn't rush me or take over, but waited patiently, almost as if she had had to deal with someone like me before. Several someones.

He came in some time later and finished the meal we had never gotten back to, so quietly that, at first, I thought the food had been prepared by magic. But by the time it was finished, I was more than surprised to find I had cleaned the entire floor and it didn't look like packed mud. I could see the worn stones as clearly as my bright orange hair in the firelight.

I must have been more exhausted than I thought, for the moment a spoonful of food touched my tongue, whatever buzzing numbness had taken over my insides shattered. I thought I saw mirrors dancing in the firelight, suns in the back of mind, paws pounding over desert sand as a distant wind sang like a woman who had lost her lover.

Stars. So many stars. His face beneath my little hand.

And yet the pain was different this time. It didn't bleach me out of consciousness or fill my blood with glass and fire. Rather, it curled in my chest, aching, heavy, and raw.

I lifted a hand to cover the fact that my chin had wrinkled up and I couldn't get it to smooth back out. Willing the gate close, I took another scoop of food.

Because the lack of pain could only mean that Link was right, and I didn't like that.