text: It had been six hours since Mary-Lou decided she wouldn’t sleep tonight. Soon, the sun would rise, and the roosters’ calls would bring forth a new day. A special day. For today was The Celebration of Wishes, a ceremony to bring in the new year for all the members of the village. Elder Orylyn would be calling upon the benevolent spirits of the dell to grant wishes for a select few of the villagers. An old woman, the townsfolk knew this could be her final Celebration, and envy would surely spread through those not chosen, much like a fire through grass in the midst of a dry spell. This fire would be promptly quenched with an assortment of alcohol and dances in the village center, an event which all able bodies would attend. Mary-Lou had kept the same wish locked away inside her heart for the past five years, since she’d become old enough for her parents to begin negotiations to find her a husband. She wanted a new life, a new adventure, and the man of her dreams to accompany her. She didn’t know what part of her this wish had grown from, but she had her guesses. The desire to leave the monotonous life of a farmer’s daughter surely originated from the day to day experience of being a farmer’s daughter, she thought. Mary-Lou got out of her bed and dressed for the day. Her dress was becoming worn through, but the holes near the center were easy enough to cover with an apron. She finished tying her shoes (which were also adorned with holes) and set off for the town center. Although the sun’s rays were barely visible over the grassy hills to the east, Mary-Lou was not the first to arrive. It seemed that a few villagers had a similar mindset to Mary-Lou: if there’s but the slightest possibility that Orylyn rewards punctuality and sacrifice, it would be worth the lost hours of sleep. A handful of others stood around in conversation, and Mary-Lou could immediately identify why they were so keen to be selected. One older man seemed to shred his lungs coughing when incited to laugh, the sound sickened Mary-Lou. Paxton Farnsworth stood proudly despite missing his left arm, the result of an unfortunate accident which the family had thus refused to disclose. The rest of the villagers gathered were either on death’s door or very young, all of them holding the same sorts of youthful wishes within them. Mary Lou approached Paxton, who had a stalk of wheat pressed between his lips on the right side of his mouth. “Hello Paxton. I see you couldn’t find any sleep either?” Paxton smiled. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can guess my wish. I’ll even give you three guesses,” he said. “Hmm. Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you’re asking for a bountiful harvest.” “Wrong. Two guesses left.” “A healthy new calf?” “Incorrect. Final guess.” Mary-Lou furrowed her brow in mock concentration. “Could it be... oh of course! How could I fail to see this earlier? It must be to fix your crooked nose.” Paxton attempted to keep his serious expression, but he shortly failed in this effort. They shared a friendly embrace. “So, how have you been, Pax?” “Oh, you know, milking one utter at a time, trying to find a creative way of shearing the sheep,” Paxton said. “And you?” Mary-Lou sighed. “I’ve been bored, Pax. I’ve been really bored.” She considered telling Paxton all about her wish, about the feelings she’d harbored for years, but decided against it. While she was certainly close enough with this young man she’d been schooled with, to talk about marriage would be a sore spot, as she was certain he’d become a far less desirable match upon losing the arm. They caught up for a while, speaking of different incidents on their families’ farms only to learn that the occurrences sparking their stories probably weren’t as special as they’d once thought. As they spoke, more townsfolk filtered into the center. Her family would soon arrive, she was sure of it. She didn’t feel like speaking with them today, she was too tired, and she didn’t want to hear their demands that she wish for her father’s back to heal. Her wish was non-negotiable. Paxton was called away by a voice in the crowd, and Mary Lou was left to wander the center, ultimately finding solace in the alleyway between the Elders’ living space and the general store. She leaned against a wall, then sank down to the grass. She examined the scene in the center. Over a hundred villagers had gathered now, some she hadn’t seen since last year’s Celebration due to age or infirmity. A light veil of dust had risen from all the feet on the dirt clearing. She watched it settle, only to be kicked up again. She was captivated by this cycle for some time. Mary-Lou’s concentration was broken by a gruff mail voice behind her. She turned her head, and was greeted by the sight of Mr. Matterson, the city manager. Mr. Matterson was a kind man within the few conversations the two had shared, but everyone in town knew his penchant for order and practicality, properties which landed him his position in the first place. His beard was neatly trimmed, something few men of the village could say. “Not wanting to enjoy the festivities, I see?” “I’m sorry Mr. Matterson, I’m just a little nervous, that’s all,” she said. “I understand, Mary-Lou. Believe it or not, I remember being nervous about my future when I was your age,” Matterson said. “But I’ll let you in on a secret: I think this whole thing is a sham. For some people, I think their wishes are granted by coincidence, and others grant their own wishes just by believing they’ll be granted in the first place.” Mary-Lou’s gaze shifted downward. Mr. Matterson took the hint. “Ah, that’s it, is it? Well, seeing as I’m responsible for your well being, young woman, why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?” Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe it was her desire to finally speak her mind to someone, but Mary-Lou readily responded. “Oh Mr. Matterson, I just can’t take this life anymore. I love to read all about adventures, and I’m sure I’ll never get to live my own if I stay on this path.” Mr. Matterson was about to cut in, but Mary-Lou continued. “My parents talk to me every day about finding me a husband. But I’m not so sure I want to marry a farmer. I don’t want to live the same life as my mother, and her mother before her. I’ve read all about the towns, no, the *cities* from far away, and I’m just so amazed. You wouldn’t believe the things they have over there. Did you know-” “Alright, Mary-Lou,” Mr. Matterson interrupted. “Maybe a farm isn’t in your future. I understand that. You know, the O’Brien’s son is only a few years younger than you, and he’s to inherit his parent’s general store. In fact, it’s this store right here,” Mr. Matterson said as he patted a log making up part of the wall to his right. “And what’s more, as part of the business he goes into a big town up north once a month. I’m sure he’d take you with him to see it.” Mary-Lou sighed. “I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Matterson. I really do. But I... I just don’t think my future is in this village, that’s all it is.” Mr. Matterson’s expression changed, a stern expression overtook his face. “I’m sorry to tell you that’s just not the case. This town functions properly for a reason, and that reason is because everyone is committed to expanding and improving it. We can’t do that if healthy young men and women like you want to up and leave. You’ve never left this place, have you?” Mary-Lou shook her head. “Well,” Mr. Matterson continued, “I have, many times as a matter of fact, and you wouldn’t believe what’s out there. Terrible people, people who will rob you blind and never look back. Creatures that’ll tear out your throat if you give them the chance. Bands of marauders armed to the teeth with whatever firepower they can purchase with their blood money. You don’t want any part of that.” But maybe she did, Mary-Lou thought. Maybe she did. After exchanging pleasantries, Mr. Matterson walked to the town center to start the proceedings. Mary-Lou remained seated for a moment, then walked toward the now large crowd. She kept her distance, she knew her chances of being chosen were slim at best. Mr. Matterson began the proceedings. Mary-Lou couldn’t hear his words, but keenly watched the crowd’s reaction. They were still and silent in anticipation. He held up a small wooden box, and removed a scrap of paper. He shouted a name, and the crowd went silent. A figure was being pushed to the front. It was Paxton. Mary-Lou’s heart dropped for a moment, but she knew that Paxton deserved it more than anyone. Paxton entered the Elders’ lodgings, and Mr. Matterson read the next name. The crowd seemed to murmur, disappointment spreading. No one came forward to receive their prize. Mary-Lou’s heart fluttered for a moment. Her mind entertained all her hopes, dreams, and fantasies at once. A boy ran away from the crowd toward the southern section of town, right at Mary-Lou. He passed her without saying a word. He turned to shout back to the crowd. “I’ll go tell him! I’ll see if he can come down here!” Mary-Lou’s heart dropped, but this time to her stomach. She knew she wouldn’t be picked. It happened this way every year. She felt like an idiot. The same every time, and yet she still allowed herself to get excited enough to be dismayed when the inevitable passed. Yet still, she started rehearsing her wish in her head. *I wish for a gallant adventurer to take me away from this place*, she thought repeatedly. Mr. Matterson was reaching for the third name. He read it. Groans filled the crowd, and an old woman hobbled up to the front. Everyone in the crowd shared Mary-Lou’s opinion that such wishes would be wasted on the elderly. Mary-Lou felt a sob bubbling up. She fought it as best as she could, but soon it won the battle, and tears were streaming down her face. She ran away from the town center, running between some of the homes and shops stationed nearby. She’d let no one see her cry. She was too old to be getting her hopes up, after all. She dropped to her knees and cried for some time. Maybe a few minutes, maybe a half hour. She was stopped by Paxton’s voice. “Mary-Lou? What’s wrong?” She attempted to speak through her erratic breathing. “Oh Paxton, I... I just thought this would be the time for me, you know?” She gave up her sense of shame and looked up at Paxton, half-expecting to see a newly formed second arm. But the space where his arm used to be was still empty. “W-what happened with the Elder? What did she tell you?” “Oh, she did her whole song and dance to the gods, but I’ll tell you, I’m certain it’s all fake now. You should have heard what she told me. She said that the gods were listening to someone else while she was trying to summon them. She told me they might not hear me, and apologized. She said it had never happened before, and she asked me not to tell anyone else. Well damn it to hell, that’s what I say to that.” Paxton finished his monologue by lightly stamping the ground. Some of the produced dust fell onto Mary-Lou’s face, but she was too focused on what Paxton had just said to notice. “Could they, could they have heard me?” Mary-Lou’s eyes were locked on Paxton’s. “I’m not quite sure what you mean,” Paxton said, confused. “But hey, your parents are looking for you, they said if I found you I should send you to the festival. They want to introduce you to someone. I’m headed there myself if you’d like to join me.” Mary-Lou’s mind was snapped back to reality. Of course, her parents. While the gods of the dell were probably fake, her parents and their wishes were perfectly real, and would soon be enacted upon her. She suddenly hated everyone and everything, including her parents for asking Paxton of all people to deliver the message. She ran away, running until the pain inside her dulled. She didn’t know how long she’d run, but now she was by the lumberer’s homes on the outskirts of town. She looked back to where she’d run from and saw a pillar of smoke. The bonfire was as big as ever this year, and she could hear music emanating even though she was so far away. Mary-Lou wanted nothing to do with that festival. She turned back to the homes and noticed an unfamiliar covered wagon being pulled by two horses. She knew it was foreign as the horses were too large and battle-worn for this town, sporting a collection of scars. The emptiness within her was filled with curiosity. She investigated the cabin across from the wagon. She snuck around the side of the home, and peeked through a window. She dropped away from the window, back to the wall. She’d seen a man inside. A man with flowing brown hair, a gun on his hip, and a shaped leather bag in his right hand. She tried to sneak away, fear engulfing her. She’d only seen a gun held by friends and townsfolk. It was significantly scarier on a stranger, she decided. She crept back to the front of the house, and saw the man leave the logger’s home. He lifted the canvas on the back of his wagon and disappeared into it. Mary-Lou guessed he was storing whatever he’d put in that bag. She stayed crouched and ducked back behind the corner of the cabin. She held her eyes closed as tightly as she could, and shortly became aware of the fact that her heart was trying to escape her body. What felt like an eternity passed. “Excuse me, miss, what might you be doing in a place like this?” Mary-Lou opened her eyes to the sight of the stranger. He seemed to loom before her, although there was nothing threatening about his stance. He reached a hand forward slowly. “Could I help you up?” Mary-Lou tried to nod her head slowly and calmly, but when she reached her hand out, she found that it was shaking fervently. The man stepped back after helping her up. “Now, miss,” he said, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I’d really like it if you answered me honestly, alright? I have a knack for knowing when someone’s lying to me. I don’t mean you any harm, I promise, but I need you to answer me.” Mary-Lou was about to cry once again. She wasn’t sure she had any tears left, but the sobs were coming back. This time from fear rather than heartbreak. “I’d like you to tell me if you saw me in that cabin. And I’d like you to tell me what you saw.” Mary-Lou audibly gulped. She told the truth, never considering any other option. She told the stranger that she’d seen him in the home, then had ducked away from the window. “And that’s all you saw?” “Yes sir.” The man seemed to ponder something, but Mary-Lou’s mind was racing as fast as it ever had. Unbeknownst to the stranger, emotions were bubbling within the woman in front of him. She was thinking about the wish she’d made. She was thinking about the fact that she’d never seen a stranger in town before, and she was thinking that this one seemed awfully dangerous. She asked a question. “Are you... are you planning to leave this place?” The question snapped him out of his train of thought. “Yes, I may have some more business to conduct but I’ll be leaving.” Now that she’d gathered the courage to look the man in his eyes, Mary-Lou was becoming entranced by them. They seemed to sparkle, and filled her with a strange melancholic sensation. “Could you take me with you?” Mary-Lou asked. She didn’t know where the question had come from, but didn’t dispute its authenticity. She’d meant it. “And why might you want to come with me?” For the second time that day, Mary-Lou revealed her soul to another. She told the man about her dream to leave this place, she told him about how terrible her future would be if she didn’t leave this place, she told him that she didn’t think she could do it alone. She hesitated, then told the stranger that if she didn’t leave this place today, she’d kill her dream. She’d suppress it and punish such thoughts until she could accept the life of a woman in the village. She didn’t know how the man would react to this, but she didn’t much care. The man raised a hand to the stubble on his face, rubbing his jawline from ear to chin. He thought for a time, then responded. “You haven’t even told me your name, but you’ve told me your deepest wish. I think you’re a strange girl, you know that?” Mary-Lou nodded. “You know,” he continued, “I know just how you feel. I felt that way myself for a while. That’s why I steal. That’s why I take from communities with too many resources. The communities who make people like you unhappy. Are you alright with that? The way I make my living? Could you truly come to accept it?” “I...” Mary-Lou trailed off. “I think I could. I think I’m accepting the idea more and more, even now. So what do you say? Can I come with you, wherever you’re going?” “I didn’t think I’d be the type to be swayed by someone like you, but dammit, I can’t tell you to stay in a place like this. You can come with me.” Mary-Lou’s lips stretched upwards in excitement. “So when do we leave? I’m ready to go now, you know,” Mary-Lou said. “I have to finish my business here, that business being a good old fashioned robbery. Why don’t you come help me, and when we’re done, I can promise you we’ll be racing out of here.” “Like Zeus’s chariot?” The man crumpled his nose. “I can’t say I know what you’re talking about.” “I’ll explain it on the way out,” she said. And thus, their unlikely partnership was formed. The stranger had Mary-Lou keep watch outside the homes while he went in to rob them, but no one ever came. He told Mary-Lou that he’d scouted this location for the last three years. He knew that everyone went in to town to celebrate this time every year. It was a thief’s dream. After the fourth house, Mary-Lou asked the man what he was stealing, and if it would harm the townsfolk. He told her that this town produced a specific resource very efficiently, and it wouldn’t hurt anyone to take from a community with too much. He said he’d heard that the way the town produced it was even causing some townsfolk some harm. Mary-Lou tried asking exactly what he was stealing, but the man said she’d have to wait and see. They continued robbing home after home, each time the man leaving with his shaped leather bag, depositing the contents into the wagon, then continuing on. After fifteen or twenty some homes, the man said they’d be leaving soon. They’d been lucky, most of the homes had what he was looking for. Mary-Lou asked him about the money involved, and he told her they’d have enough to travel the world wherever they pleased, enough to find plenty of new adventures. Mary-Lou really liked the sound of that. Eventually, the man exited the wagon with a smile on his face. “Mary-Lou, it’s time for us to get out of here. I hope your time as a robber’s been plenty exciting, because we’re putting this life behind us. Happiness coming over her, Mary Lou ran to the stranger and embraced him, planting her head in his shoulder. The man returned the gesture, and they stayed that way for some time before releasing each other. The stranger told her to hop onto the wagon, and they were off. After a few minutes of riding, the man asked her if she was hungry. Considering she hadn’t eaten since the night before, Mary-Lou told him she was. They pulled over with the town still in sight, and the man found some smoked jerky, a few apples, and some milk in his wagon. They ate their meal and subsequently passed out, the warmth of the sun over the veil of leaves above them was too pleasant to resist. Mary-Lou woke up to an unfamiliar voice. Groggily, she wiped her eyes, and once they finally focused she saw an older man pointing a revolver at the stranger. Her new friend was on his knees with his hands held high, the gun just inches away from his nose. The man was yelling about something, pointing to the wagon excitedly, his face red with rage. Mary-Lou vaguely recognized him from the town, but didn’t know his name. Mary-Lou yelled toward the older man, begging him to stop. It was just like a man from her town to threaten an outsider. He would never understand why they’d stolen, he’d never understand that the man on the other side of the barrel of the gun had hopes and dreams just like her. That town was where dreams died, and this was simply an expression of it. The older man looked towards Mary-Lou and shouted something, and that was all the time the stranger needed to act. He gracefully sprung to his feet, grabbed the gun, and kicked the other man hard in the knee. The older man fell to the ground, releasing the revolver in pain. The stranger looked toward the girl. “Mary-Lou, look away now.” In a state of shock, Mary-Lou did exactly what she was told. She heard the gunshot ring through the air, then felt the pull of the stranger’s hand on his shoulder. “Come on, we need to move, now. They’re trying to destroy what we’re building, it’s now or never,” he said. Mary-Lou obliged. She climbed up to the front of the wagon, and the man ran around to the driver’s seat. He handed Mary-Lou a pistol he produced from under his seat. “If anyone tries to hurt you, don’t hesitate. You just point and squeeze the trigger, alright darling?” Mary-Lou nodded. She vaguely heard some commotion behind her. She looked behind the wagon and saw a group of townsfolk chasing after them on foot, likely thirty seconds away. Their shouts were of anguish. Were they trying to rescue her, or did they just want to maintain order? This confused Mary-Lou. She heard a strange noise come from the back of the wagon, but it soon stopped. Before she could ask the stranger about it, they were off. The wagon was building speed. “They’ll never catch us,” the man said, “they don’t have a chance in hell.” They rode like this for a few minutes, and once they’d put some distance between them and the mob behind them, Mary-Lou felt like she was finally able to breathe. The stranger placed his hand to the sun. “Seems like we’re about six or seven hours to sundown,” he said. “We took a bit of a detour from where we’re trying to go, I didn’t want them to follow us. Damn, it might wear off soon.” Mary-Lou wasn’t sure if the man was talking to her or himself. He seemed distant to her, his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. Suddenly, he snapped out of it, and looked at Mary-Lou. “Hey, you remember why we’re doing this, right?” Mary-Lou nodded. “And you know if we do this, we go live the life we’ve both dreamed of,” he said. It wasn’t a question as much as a statement for which he sought affirmation. “Yes, I know that,” Mary-Lou said. “Well, alright then. We may be able to make it by nightfall. We trade this wagon for a sack of cash and fresh horses, and we leave this place,” the stranger said. He was about to continue when Mary-Lou heard another noise coming from the wagon. She wasn’t sure what it was, it sounded almost alien to her. She started to wonder exactly what her town was hiding. And yet, there was a familiar quality to it, she just couldn’t place it. The sound stopped once again. Mary-Lou turned to the stranger. She’d just realized she hadn’t even asked him his name yet. Just as she opened her mouth, he cursed under his breath. Mary-Lou looked back at the road. Riding toward them were two men, both sporting gleaming silver stars. Mary-Lou didn’t understand the stranger’s dismay. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Those men...” he started, “Just let me do the talking here, alright? Please, don’t speak unless you must. I’ll get us out of this, but it might not be easy.” He looked at Mary-Lou and cast a reassuring smile toward her, then shifted his gaze downward and noticed she was still holding the gun. Startled, he took it from her and hid it back under his seat. The men on the horses were upon them now. The stranger and the rider on the left exchanged smiles. Mary-Lou hadn’t noticed when he’d done it, but the stranger was gripping her hand with his own. As the men on the horses passed, the grip tightened, then released once they’d cleared the wagon. Another noise sounded from the wagon, and Mary-Lou heard the horses behind them stop moving. The riders turned around and rode back even with the stranger, one on each side of the wagon. The rider near the stranger cleared his throat. “Excuse me sir, would you mind pulling over for a moment?” The stranger’s grip on Mary-Lou’s hand was painful now. “Well,” he said, “I would, but my wagon is holding sensitive cargo. My boss told me to let no one see it under any circumstances.” The rider was unphased. “Sir, I’ll ask you again to pull over. I’m not too keen on asking a third time. I’m asking you with the power given to me as a deputy of this county. Do you understand that?” “I-I-” the stranger stammered. His palm started sweating. “I’m afraid I can’t do that sir, I work for a powerful man, you see?” He released Mary-Lou’s hand, and began to slowly reach under his seat. He glanced at the rider on the other side as he did so. “I have the paperwork, if you’re worried about that. I can show you the manifesto if it gets you gentleman on your way.” “Well, I suppose that’s a start. Let’s see it then,” the deputy said. The deputy reached out toward the wagon, and the stranger continued to rummage around under his seat. He turned to Mary-Lou, and spoke so softly she thought it could have been the wind speaking to her. “When I lift my hand from under the wagon, you need to duck.” The stranger searched for another couple seconds, then found what he was looking for. “Sirs, I think you’ll find this satisfactory,” the stranger said as he raised the pistol from under his seat with his right arm, and unholstered the revolver in his left. Before the deputies had a chance to react, he’d planted a bullet in the head of the rider on the left. Then, flipping his head, he shot the other man just as Mary-Lou ducked under the barrel of the gun. Mary-Lou didn’t see the bullet connect, but she heard a now familiar sound of metal embedding itself in flesh, then heard a body hit the dirt path. Mary-Lou was shell shocked. She couldn’t find the courage to lift her head, much less to speak. She expected a comforting gesture from the stranger, but he now had hold of the reigns, increasing the speed of the wagon. They raced down the road for a few minutes, then he relaxed his speed. The two didn’t speak again for the rest of their ride. As the sun was setting, the stranger veered off the main path, taking the wagon through some tall trees and into a grassy clearing. A man with a similar covered wagon was waiting there. He was older, his hair readily receding and his teeth all but rotted. A few saddled horses grazed in the field, Mary-Lou assumed they were what the stranger had mentioned earlier. The setting sun cast shadows which seemed to loom throughout the clearing, the sky seemed to burn a shade of orange above them. “Hey, Mary-Lou? Why don’t you let me do the talking again, got it? Don’t worry, this is the man who’s giving us the money and horses, just like I told you. We’ll be living our new life soon enough, I promise.” The stranger planted a kiss on Mary-Lou’s forehead, then stepped down from the wagon to approach the other man. They conversed for a moment, but Mary-Lou couldn’t quite make out what she was hearing. She thought she heard the phrases “more than I thought” and “don’t worry about her.” She became nervous, but she calmed down once she saw the two share a friendly handshake. The stranger waved Mary-Lou over from the wagon, and the older man went over to inspect its contents. “My darling, today marks the first day of our new lives. Our man here came through just like I thought he would,” the stranger said. He pointed to the horses. “See those fine horses over there? Their saddles are full of gold, gold that we can exchange for as much cash as we can carry once we get into town. Then, I don’t know, we get a boat anywhere we want!” Mary-Lou didn’t know what to say. She thought that even if she knew what she was feeling right now, she wouldn’t be able to express it through language. The only word that came to mind was unsettled. Was this really what I wanted? More questions swirled through her mind, and she was more than willing to let the stranger lead her by the hand while she sorted them out. They mounted their horses, and like the stranger had said, the saddle bags held bars of solid gold. The stranger reached his hand toward her, and she took it, their horses cantering aside one another. The sun fell below the mountains to the west, Mary-Lou noticed as they passed the wagon one last time. The noise came once again, but louder than ever. No, she thought, it must be more than one noise. She wouldn’t even try to figure out this mystery, she was content to leave this place and never look back. But as they rode through the trees, realization flooded through Mary-Lou, and she became pale in the waning sunlight. The sound she’d heard hadn’t been from wild animals. It hadn’t been alien. It hadn’t been the clink of disarrayed coins, nor had it been the sizzling of a strange reaction. Mary-Lou thought she might fall off her horse. The sounds which had emanated from that wagon were surely the muffled cries of babies. The sorts of cries which would only be resolved by the gentle touch of the mothers they’d never again see. Into the sunset they rode.