Chapter 2 - The Festival of Skills

Chapter 2 - The Festival of Skills

A Chapter by Jordan Williams
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The Gun Salesman Chapter 2

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Underneath the darkening sky that the celestials painted in blended shades of purples, blues, and blacks, the villagers of Ibe added their own colors to the moonless, star-filled setting. Clouds were descended from their usual place on high, shifting in and out of shapes around a young boy in graceful swirls. The gentle gusts and strong yet controlled billows seemed to emanate from him effortlessly. The clouds and the boy seemed to move as one.

The celebration was well under way. Lit torches were burning brightly, the dancing energy of the flames surpassed by the people present. The merry-making and sheer joy was infectious. Everyone radiated pure excitement.

Everyone except Qulie.

Even though she was having fun, she couldn't help but feel somewhat out of place. Her grandmother must have sensed her unease as she gave her small granddaughter a hug. Looking up to acknowledge the sign of affection, Qulie exchanged smiles with her Grandma Mella before shifting her focus back to the display in progress. Sitting in her grandmother's lap, Qulie nestled against her guardian's warmth, trying to force her thoughts to match the relaxation that her body felt.

Only hours before, the two had nearly gotten into a heated argument. As Qulie had predicted, her enthusiasm and interest in the day's visitor was not shared with the older woman. It is true that his invention, the “gun” as he had called it, made Qulie apprehensive, as it had made every person in Ibe. Still, there was something intriguing about the man.

While mostly independent, Ibe still traded with outsiders on occasion, but such occasions were rare and somewhat innocuous. Never before that Qulie could remember had a guest appeared with such grand style and in such peculiar clothing. Even now, in a casual environment of informal festivity, the gentleman was still dressed in a display of foreign affluence. As all others' gazes were transfixed by the exhibition in the center of the makeshift circle of fellow residents, Qulie's eyes wandered over to observe the man named Arthur.

About a quarter of the way around the circle to Qulie's right, Arthur stood captivated at the young boy's show of skills. Shedding his black hat and matching coat, the salesman still could not help but stand out from those around him, his air of intellect and confidence obvious even from a distance. Qulie could tell just from looking at him that this man had traveled the world. He had visited places, experienced cultures, and seen things. Things that Qulie had never seen. Things that Qulie might not ever see.

Not realizing that she had been staring, Qulie caught the attention of the object of her curiosity. Arthur made eye contact with Qulie. A smirk appeared on his face as he winked at her. Embarrassed, Qulie quickly looked down, not daring to glance up to see if the man was still looking at her.

Grandma Mella jostled Qulie's attention away from the ground. The demonstration of skill had apparently concluded, completely unnoticed by the girl lost in thought. Applauding with the rest of the crowd, Mella grabbed her distracted granddaughter's arms, playfully forcing her to clap as well, to which Qulie couldn't help but give a smile that was a bit more genuine this time.

Before the ovation could come to a halt, music resounded to keep the festivities going, morphing the random claps into a cheerful beat of unison. Mossua began to make his way over. Limping only slightly without his staff, the playfulness in his swaying steps matched the expression in his mischievous eyes. “Young Qulie, might I ask your permission to dance with your lovely grandmother?”

Taking a glimpse at the elder woman, whose face seemed to soften and grow younger with flattery, Qulie teased in response. “Of course, Mossua, as long as you behave yourself.” She scooted off her grandmother's lap and stared with mock suspicion at the old man.

“Naturally,” he promised as he took Mella's hand. “Anything to avoid the dreaded wrath of the mighty Qulie.”

Standing up with the vigor of a woman half her age, Grandma Mella tapped a finger on Qulie's nose. “Don't worry, cutie Q. I'll just make it one song.” The elder couple then skipped as best they could to join the others already dancing. Looking at them fondly, Qulie let out the slightest of sighs and sat back down.

“Your grandparents make quite the couple.”

Startled, Qulie quickly turned to the right, her wide eyes just now seeing that Arthur was already seated next to her. He smiled at her warmly. “Don't you think so?”

Trying to cover up her surprise, Qulie answered as composed as she could. “Uhh, actually, he's not my grandfather.”

“Oh,” Arthur paused only slightly. “Well he seems nice enough. And he seems to enjoy your grandmother's company.” The two looked over to see Mella and Mossua still dancing, beaming gleefully as they held hands and laughed.

“Yeah,” Qulie agreed. “He's great.”

Keeping the conversation going with polite curiosity, Arthur asked, “What do your parents think of him?”

Qulie's face was slowly and subtly drained of all signs of elation, her sight returning again to the dirt ground. “I, umm, never knew them.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

Arthur offered her a look of sincere warmth, but Qulie continued to stare downward. Looking forward again, Arthur sighed. “I never knew mine either.”

At this sign of friendly console, Qulie finally looked up as Arthur matched her gaze, and the two shared a quick smile before shifting their focus back to the lively party of dancers. Arthur absorbed the whole scene with an appreciation that bordered on admiration.

“It must be nice to live here. You're very lucky, miss-”

“Qulie,” the small girl finished for him.

“Qulie. Right. I'm Arthur.” He extended his hand in cordial fashion.

She shook it. “Yeah, it's not so bad.”

He gave her a nod.

“Are you enjoying the festival?” Qulie asked.

“Oh yes. I must admit, I have never seen anything quite like it.”

“Really? That's surprising.”

Arthur grinned. “What makes you say that?”

“I just mean a big, fancy salesman like you must have been to a lot of places.”

Arthur let out a small chuckle. “I suppose you're right. I have been to a lot of places. Nevertheless, I am thoroughly impressed with you people, with the skills you have. I've never seen anyone achieve such feats. It's truly remarkable.”

The man's enthusiasm caught Qulie off guard. She could tell that he was just as interested in the village of Ibe as she was in the world beyond her home. Had he given her a chance, she would have asked him all about the land outside of her tiny village. As it stood, however, he pressed on, his curiosity not letting up.

“It's just a shame I have to head back out tomorrow,” Arthur continued. “How often does this festival happen?”

“Only twice a year.”

“And it's for the children to display their skills, correct?”

My, this guy asks a lot of questions.

“Yes.”

“So, if you don't mind me asking, when do you display your skills?”

Qulie did in fact mind him asking, but tried to not let her annoyance show. Still, she was not fully prepared to admit the truth to a stranger she just met. “Well, I-”

“Oh, I can't possibly dance anymore!” Grandma Mella exclaimed, interrupting the conversation as she sat down next to Qulie. A bit of sweat topped her brow, but her face still held a look of delight. She acknowledged Arthur with a nod and put her arm around Qulie. “Everything all right, dear?” 

Slightly embarrassed at her grandmother's affection, Qulie tried to shrug the hand off of her shoulder. “I'm fine, Grandma.”

Ever the charmer, Arthur introduced himself to the elder woman, offering his hand as he had earlier to Qulie. “Nice to meet you. My name is Arthur.”

“Hi.” Mella's hand stayed on her granddaughter's shoulder, its grip tightening just a bit. She gave a halfhearted smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

Realizing that his company was no longer wanted, Arthur decided to graciously take his leave. “Well, my throat is parched. I'm going to get myself another drink. Please excuse me.” Standing up, he gave one last polite smile, and briskly walked away as the two ladies watched him go with two very different opinions within their minds.

Mella turned to look at Qulie. “What were you two talking about?”

“Nothing, Grandma.”

“I thought we talked about him.”

She had talked about him; they hadn't. Mella didn't even listen to what Qulie had to say about the visitor, and Qulie could tell they were about to repeat the same conversation they had earlier in the day.

Presently, Qulie sighed as she took her grandmother's hand off her shoulder. “He seems nice to me.”

“Yes, seems nice, but not everyone is as nice as those of us in Ibe.”

Seeing that arguing would get her nowhere, Qulie just crossed her arms and looked away.

Trying to explain her views and why she had them, Mella's voice thawed into a gentle concern. “I am just trying to take care of you.”

Though Qulie's body language remained the same, her voice softened as well. “I know.”

Applause filled the night air as the music came to an end. Reunited with his cane, Mossua walked into the middle of the circled dancers as they began to disperse, giving him the full attention of all those present. “I would like to thank you all once again for coming, especially to our special guest, Arthur.”

All eyes shifted to the visitor standing near the refreshments table, who accepted the recognition with courtesy. He waved in gratitude to the crowd who had resumed their applause. Making eye contact with Qulie, he winked at her again. This time, Qulie winked back, and the exchange was not entirely unnoticed by her protective grandmother.

“Now,” Mossua resumed, “to conclude tonight's celebration, we will now have the final display, and this honor goes to....” Having fun with the moment, the village leader let the anticipation build for a few heartbeats. “Catille!”

Of course it was Catille. She performed the final display at the last two festivals, so this was hardly a shocking revelation as far as Qulie was concerned. She joined everyone else who clapped, though not quite as excitedly as others.

Emerging from the crowd, Catille joined Mossua, giving him a hug as she approached. “Thank you so much, Mossua. I truly feel honored to perform the final display. I have been practicing extra hard. I think you will all like the surprise.”

“Oh, all right!” Mossua could barely contain his exuberance. “Whenever you're ready, young lady.” With that, he hurried off to the side to give her the floor.

The young lady smiled at everyone then closed her eyes to ready herself. She withdrew a red ribbon from her pants pocket and used it to tie her long, jet black hair up, so as to stay in place better. Taking a deep breath, Catille tried to exhale the nerves that would threaten to disrupt the control that she would need in the next few minutes.

Then she began. Extending her arms forward, she finally opened her eyes. Immediately, two tall torches that stood just right of Qulie grew brighter. Their flames inflated, then remained perfectly still for a second, before rapidly shooting out towards Catille. As the flames stretched towards her, they circled around each other in a spiral before collapsing into balls of flame again in her hands. The flames then began to juggle all around the performer, leaping into and out of shapes, winding around her just inches from her body as she herself began to move along with them.

Qulie looked at everyone around her. Everyone was captivated. All were silent, the only sounds heard were that of the swirling fire, swelling and burning with brilliant grace. Qulie glanced at Arthur, who stood in astonishment, his mouth just barely open, his eyes huge, trying to take in what his logical brain couldn't believe. Even Grandma Mella looked impressed, staring in awe at the amazing Catille.

At that moment, Qulie knew what she had to do. She realized in this village, this town full of people who adored its sheltering environment, this place that was the same in all the nine years that Qulie had lived in it, and would continue to be the same for years and years, in this village, she did not belong.

The crowd gasped.

The fire that Catille was now currently manipulating had changed colors. Its fearsome orange and yellow now transformed into a beautiful mixture of blue and white. This was the surprise that Catille had mentioned.

Now Catille started to move the flames quicker, letting them expand out even further, making more and more elaborate designs. So thrilling was the display that the villagers didn't even let it finish before applauding. As they nearly roared with approval, the fire was getting more and more frenzied, changing colors rapidly, yet never out of the gifted girl's control, culminating in a truly stunning finish. Breathless, Catille stood, absorbing all the praise that Ibe now gave her, filling the night sky with cheer. 

Qulie wiped away a jealous tear that found its way onto her cheek as discreetly as she could. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Qulie looked up at her Grandma Mella.

She only hoped that her grandmother would understand.



© 2015 Jordan Williams


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Author's Note

Jordan Williams
is this confusing at all?? or does the story make sense so far?

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Added on May 19, 2014
Last Updated on December 13, 2015
Tags: jordan, williams, cliches, i, say, gun, salesman, festival, skills, fantasy, children, magic, fiction, story


Author

Jordan Williams
Jordan Williams

Chattanooga, TN



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