CHAPTER 29: TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
Tifa hunched over Claudia's kitchen table, peeling the skin off of an apple with a paring knife. The muscles in her arms and upper back ached fiercely after an hour's worth of chopping firewood with Claudia's dull axe. She made a mental note to ask the blacksmith to sharpen it in the morning.
Over the years, her training with Master Zangan had shown her that her body could go far beyond limits she thought she had. It felt good to be able to help her neighbor heat her home, lending strength that the little blonde woman lacked. Tifa was grateful that her muscle had come in long and lean and didn't sit in bulky masses on her slight frame; she'd certainly never get married if it did! In fact, she'd been doing a great deal of wood splitting in the week since Cloud had gone. The old farmer's almanac had predicted a fierce winter and all the signs were there. It was only the beginning of October and the waterfowl had already flown south and escaped to warmer climes. The corn husks had grown in thicker than usual and the coats on Mr. Hansen's dairy cows had become dense and bushy. It was a lot of work to collect a winter's worth of firewood for one house, let alone two, and Tifa was beginning to feel the strain on her young body.
It wasn't just her body that felt tired, but her heart, too. Cloud didn't understand what he had done when he left their little village. He had taken a piece of her and his mother with him. Everything felt strange and Tifa mused over how the absence of one person could make life seem so empty. When she wasn't with Master Zangan or utilizing the axe, the better part of the week had been spent lying about and trying to find a comforting thought or two to nurse her bruised spirit. Although she tried to focus on positive things like the excitement surrounding this year's harvest festival, her mind constantly turned back to thoughts of the blue eyed boy who buried her heart away in that leather pack of his with the rest of his belongings. Crimson eyes focused on the apple slice between her fingers before slowly shifting to stare at the back of the woman who stood at the counter stirring a mixing bowl. A strange feeling crept over her skin and she stilled the swinging of her feet. Tifa couldn't decide whether it was nostalgia or dejavu, but it wormed into her heart and made her uncomfortable.
"How many apples do you need to make one batch?" Tifa asked, eager to distract herself from the chill that had settled in her bones. Helping Claudia make her apple strudels was a welcome respite from the lonesome atmosphere of her house and the girl had been grateful for the invitation. As was Ms. Strife's yearly tradition, she was making the pastries to sell alongside her linen wares at the festival tonight.
"Three!" the woman answered with a smile, turning around and wiping flour dusted hands on her apron before taking the seat opposite Tifa. "I know you wanted to bake an apple pie. Don't worry, I promise we'll have enough left over."
She placed a few apple slices on the cutting board in front of her and began to dice them. Tifa drew her knees up to her chest and studied her neighbor carefully. She and Claudia had become close since her mother's death. Always upbeat and positive, the girl couldn't help but wonder the source from which she drew her endless positivity. Right now, Cloud was somewhere far away. He was chasing his dreams and making steps towards finding his place in the world. He was running marathons of self-discovery while she was anchored in place, trying to find meaning in the day to day mundanity. It was hard to accept that she had no control over the things other people did that hurt her heart. Would he ever come back? Tifa decided that she had to trust him, even when it was hard. She promised him that she would, and Master Zangan had said a trustworthy person keeps all promises.
For so long, she and Cloud had faced hardships hand in hand. The single road they had travelled together had forked at last, and she could not follow the path he blazed. It left a lonesome ache deep inside her. Didn't Claudia feel the same way?
Finished with peeling apples, her restless hands needed something to do. The little wooden box holding her mother's recipe cards sat where she had left it in the middle of the table and Tifa took it between her fingers, running the pad of her thumb over the smooth surface of the cover. Mama's apple pie could bring cheer to most situations, even if just from the warm memoires of sharing the harvest-time treat with her family. Papa had always been scolded by Lia for eating an entire half a pie in one evening and the recollection made her eyes soften as she studied the lines and imperfections of the little pine box. Hopefully, something as simple as bringing home the dessert would satisfy her father's sweet tooth and quell a little bit of the ache in his heart. Playing the piano for her father when the ghosts came to haunt him seemed to quiet her heart as well as his. Tifa was trying desperately not to lose hope that she could be a source of light on the dark paths that he walked, guiding him home to help her rebuild their broken relationship. The years had been laced with fear and regret, but she couldn't turn away from the thought that there might be hope for them yet.
Tifa's eye flicked upwards to watch Claudia's steady hand as she chopped the apple slices into fine cubes. Though her face seemed serene, the girl could easily see the fatigue and haunted look in her blue eyes, the line of her mouth pressed flat with hidden emotion. She wondered how much the single mother had mourned the departure of her son who had moved to a strange city to start a new life all on his own. Tifa wondered if she possessed the strength and bravery to do something like that.
"You came to Nibelheim all by yourself, right?"
Claudia paused at the seemingly random question and turned her pale eyes upward. "Well, Cloud was a little over two at the time. But aside from him, it had just been me."
"Was it hard to start someplace new?"
"It's still hard." Ms. Strife said, rising to combine the apple bits with the mixture of butter, sugars, spices and other ingredients in the mixing bowl. "But it was out of necessity; I had nowhere else to go and a little boy to take care of."
Tifa remembered the scant details Cloud had told her about Claudia's parents turning her out and his father dying when he was still so small. She kept her eyes on the sway of thick blonde locks.
"Nibelheim is a beauty of a mountain town, but I'm sure you've noticed that most villagers aren't very kind to outsiders. So it's been hard to get help, and most times Cloud and I had to figure things out for ourselves."
Tifa played with the lid of the recipe card box. The thought of people turning their back on a woman and child for any reason made her angry. "You must have been so frightened."
"Of course. I was young. I had Cloud in my belly at sixteen, gave birth by seventeen and found myself in Nibelheim at eighteen. Life was as unsteady as an earthquake and Cloud needed a stable, safe place to grow up."
The girl folded further in upon herself in empathy at her neighbor's sad story. Claudia noticed as she circled the whisk around again and again, blending the sweet concoction together.
"But you know what, Tifa? A little adversity builds character and that's what I told Cloud before he left. As much as I want him to stay, there was always something pulling him away from here. He'll come up against problems I'm sure, but he'll adapt and grow and learn. Just like I did…and just like you're doing."
It had taken many years, but Tifa was just beginning to understand Claudia Strife. Nibelheim had rejected her since her arrival over twelve years ago and it was hard to imagine that her forlorn neighbor had once been loved and cherished. Cloud's papa, the man she loved, was dead. And now her son had left her behind. But here she was, moving forward. Claudia's steps were vibrant as she moved about the kitchen and warmth radiated from her features. Master Zangan had taught her a lot about strength. While the little blonde woman lacked muscle and brawn, she had the strongest heart of anyone Tifa had ever known. Life had taken so much from her, but she never gave up. If Ms. Strife still found the miraculous will to keep going, maybe she could, too.
"Are you going to the festival with your father tonight?"
Tifa closed the lid to the recipe box with a loud clack and gripped the wood in her fingers. "No. He said he's going with his friends."
Claudia set the mixing bowl to rest and wiped her hands on her apron before crouching next to Tifa's chair. Mustering the most genuine smile she could, she searched for the girl's eyes.
"No matter, we can go together! We can sell our clothes and strudels for a while, then enjoy the sights and a game or two. What do you say?"
A ghost of a smile appeared on Tifa's lips as she nodded.
… … …
The water was cool against his skin as he rubbed his face and wrung droplets out of his hair. Cloud knew that this area of Midgar was upscale and felt embarrassed to be washing his head and arms in a public fountain, but it was still early enough in the morning for the streets to be empty and free of judgmental eyes. The ShinRA building sat a few blocks behind him, blocking out the first light of morning and casting a long shadow over the little park.
The monster of a building was much bigger than he had imagined from the pictures on the pamphlets and what he had seen on television. All seventy stories loomed overhead and Cloud wondered how it was possible to build something so tall! But he was grateful for its size since it made it impossible miss; the sight of the towering mass of steel and concrete brought feelings of relief that his journey had finally come to an end. After leaving Gareth and managing to board a train to the upper plate, he had made a beeline straight to the monstrous sky scraper as the sun began to set. The lady at the front desk had peered down at him over her thick glasses. After regarding him with a bored expression, she had barely let him open his mouth before telling him that the help desk was now closed for the weekend. Annoyed, but not discouraged, Cloud had tucked himself into an alley to get his bearings and make a plan. The upper plate was much cleaner and felt a great deal safer than the slums had. He spent the weekend walking the streets and getting familiar with the area, only having enough gil to spend one night at a hotel and purchase a few lackluster meals.
He had spent the night before sleeping in the small park near the ShinRA building, wrapping his jacket around his shoulders and pillowing his head on his pack. Finally, it was time to turn in his application. He didn't know what hour the building opened to the public, but he wanted to make sure he was there when it did. He covered the two blocks quickly and smiled when he reached the small plaza in front of ShinRA headquarters. Cloud slowed his steps when he saw two men emerge from the glass doors; one seemed older with black stubble on his chin and layered dark hair that ended at the nape of his neck. The smaller man didn't seem to be much older than Cloud was and had thick, wild black hair. The younger man was chattering on about one thing or another, but all Cloud could focus on was the SOLDIER uniforms they were both wearing and the broad swords that were strapped to their backs.
The blonde wasn't aware that he had stopped to stare until the raven haired young man made eye contact with him. There was an otherworldly glow to the SOLDIER's blue eyes and it made Cloud hold his breath. Turning his head away shyly, the mountain child suddenly felt so lame in his button down shirt and plain slacks. He hurried to enter the building with his eyes focused on the worn leather of his shoes. There were plenty of soldiers milling about, laughing and talking loudly amongst themselves. An electronic bulletin board flashed announcements across a large screen, confirming the news he had seen on the headlines all over magazine stands throughout the area. The war with Wutai was over. The fighting and conflict that had spanned almost a decade had finally come to a stop after Wutai surrendered. It never crossed his mind to think about what elite members of SOLDIER would be doing in times of peace.
Just like she had said, the secretary was at her place behind the help desk. Application forms in hand, Cloud smoothed the fabric of the cleanest shirt he had left in his bag and put on a brave face.
"Good morning. I'm here to hand in my application for the SOLDIER program and take the physical fitness test," Cloud said as politely as he could, hoping she understood the thickness of his western dialect.
"Another one of you kids, huh? ShinRA makes a fortune off of hundreds of little dreamers." The woman barely acknowledged him with a momentary upward flick of her eyes.
Cloud's heart sunk to his feet at her words.
She yanked the application forms out of his hands after prompting the boy to hand them over, then asked for the gil for the application fee. Cloud swallowed hard as he handed over the only money left to his name. What did she mean? Were there really hundreds of young men like himself who applied for an elite position like a SOLDIER? Maybe there were more people in the SOLDIER program than he thought.
"Have a seat over there. I'll call you when a physician has time to look at you."
Half an hour later, he was led to a small examination room on the third floor by a tall man in a white coat whom he assumed was would be carrying out his physical. He was asked a few questions about his medical history and had his eyes checked. By the time the physician had him strip down to his underwear, Cloud's confidence had waned significantly. He was measured, poked and prodded, had blood taken and was embarrassed when asked to provide a urine sample. The boy tried not to notice the doctor's eyes lingering on the slight visibility of his ribs or the narrowness of his thighs. He had always been small for his age, but Cloud knew that he had been growing. Before he left home, he had noticed the modest swelling of his biceps, small ridges of muscle forming on his abdomen, and that he was now a full three inches taller than Tifa. Would it be enough to satisfy the qualifications? Why hadn't the paperwork told him what the physical requirements were?
Cloud flinched when the man held the cold stethoscope to his chest to listen to him breathe before moving it to his back to listen again. The cold weather and humid air rarely gave him problems breathing anymore, but Cloud wondered if the doctor could somehow tell that his lungs were weak. If he heard anything poor, he didn't show it. The man flowed through the exam in practiced movements, pausing every so often to write something down on his clipboard. Cloud got the impression that he did this very exam on dozens of potential employees daily. The thought that he was just one in a million idealistic young men hoping to make SOLDIER made the blonde feel very small.
"Go ahead, hop on the scale," said the doctor, gesturing toward a little square machine lying on the cold tile.
Blue eyes fixated on the digital numbers, more fascinated by the technology of the little gadget than concerned with the number that flashed on the little screen.
"Ninety one pounds, six ounces," the man sighed, recording the number on the data sheet. His brown eyes met blue ones with skepticism. "You're fourteen?"
"Yessir." Cloud studied his bare toes.
"Hm." The physician thumbed through Cloud's file and lingered on his birth certificate. "You'll need several shots. The records you provided show insufficient vaccination. You may put your clothes on now."
… … …
It was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon when Cloud was ushered into a small office to discuss the company's evaluation of his application and the results of his physical exam. He had been anxiously waiting for almost eight hours to be spoken with and he was exhausted and famished. Cloud tried not to slouch in the thick leather chair when he was told to sit. A bony looking woman sat behind her desk with a manila folder in her hands, 'STRIFE, C.' written in bold letters on the tab. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun that was just as no nonsense as her expressionless eyes. It continued to surprise him how almost every person in Midgar he had conversed with treated him with disconnection and boredom.
"Cloud, is it?" she squinted at the paperwork. "We're sorry, we regret to inform you that you don't meet the requirements to audition for a position in the SOLDIER program."
Shock chased the fatigue out of his eyes and he drew in an anxious breath. He didn't even get to audition for SOLDIER? The woman continued in a monotone voice as if she was reading from a script.
"The program requires that candidates weigh a minimum of 150 pounds and measure taller than 5'5" in order to qualify for the strength, conditioning, and mental analyses of a SOLDIER audition."
Cloud hung his head in disbelief and hopelessness. They couldn't turn him away so quickly, could they? Maybe it had been foolish and naïve to think that he could make the elite ranks of SOLDIER, but they didn't even give him a chance to show what he was made of. Couldn't he train under the SOLDIERs' eye until he grew enough to audition? Now he had no money to feed himself, let alone find a place to stay. Going home to Nibelheim would be impossible, even if he had the guts to do so after failing so miserably. Distraught, he took a deep breath. How would he ever get back to Tifa, now? Would he ever see his mother again? If he could grow and gain some weight, maybe he could reapply for SOLDIER in time. He refused to give up hope that he could accomplish his dream because of something so insignificant.
"If you're interested, you can interview for a position in other factions of the ShinRA Company's military."