Chapter 175: The Trial Isn’t Over Yet
False hope is sometimes mistaken for true love.
Zane found the Runner and he gave him the money he had promised to the people of the Cinder Row.
But he made Herring’s mother in charge of it.
However, she wasn’t in her best mood and right mind because of no contact with her son so Zane believed that would prove a hindrance to his mission.
Therefore, to give the poor weapon an ease of mind...
"Tell her that her son is absolutely fine. I met him. He ate her food. And he will visit her as soon as he gets time."
He lied through his teeth.
But the lie might give the woman some hope. Even if false.
Because the way Zane saw it, all hopes were lies when it came down to everything.
"Is that all?" The Runner asked.
Zane nodded.
The Runner returned the nod and picked a handful of coins from the black plastic bag and kept them in his pocket.
Then he stored the bag in the red mailbox.
After that, he ran away.
"What? Wait. That’s cheating!" Zane shouted.
But his words fell on deaf ears.
The kid ran off and Zane could only look at Hena.
"Calm down." She said.
Zane obliged.
He would feel really bad if he paid for the work and it didn’t happen.
But he decided to trust Hena and waited.
The afternoon bell for the church had already rang but Zane and the others didn’t go to any church to pray this time.
No one even mentioned it.
All of them had enough prayer for the whole week.
If any of the Wardens asked them what they were doing, they would simply say they already prayed.
Moreover, there weren’t that many Wardens in the Balam street anyway.
They were safe from them.
"What is going on?" Zane asked, his worry increasing with time.
"If you were this eager you should have used the official mail services." Hena retorted.
"I can’t. They require your name and address. They are used by the rich and it would be suspicious if someone used them to send money to the slums of all places. I will get caught."
"Then stay quiet and wait."
Zane sighed.
He went silent and waited as Hena said.
All of them were standing around the red mail box which carried the black bag with coins and Zane waited for anyone to come his way.
But the road was silent.
Only rats hopped around the street, from one sewer to another.
All the people went to pray, it seems.
That was the only reason to explain the quiet surroundings.
The carriage driver who brought all of them here had also driven off his carriage at high speed, probably to not miss the prayer as well.
I should have gone there too to pass time.
"Excuse me, sir."
"Huh? Wait. The hell?"
Zane jumped forward.
Someone came behind him and started picking things from the ground.
Zane turned around and saw it was another kid around seven years old.
Thin arms, dirty hair, and a big white sack on his shoulder filled with empty bottles, packets, vegetable peels.
"A sweeper?"
Zane shook his head.
He got all spooked because of a scrap picker.
The kid picked the garbage around the mansion and then he reached the red mailbox.
Zane raised one of his brows.
The sweeper then opened the mailbox.
Zane frowned.
The sweeper then held the black plastic bag.
Zane’s palms found sweat.
The sweeper then threw the bag inside his big white sack.
"That’s it. What are you doing?" Zane snapped.
He went to the sweeper but Jammy held his shoulder.
Zane looked at the janitor and it only took one nod from the old man for the gutterborn to stop.
"I am sorry." He bowed to the sweeper and for a second, the kid flinched.
"No one ever bowed to me." He said.
Zane smiled. "No one knows how to value hard work."
The sweeper returned the smile.
Zane understood the functions of Runners by now.
One kid would take the order and the other kid would start fulfilling it. They would both have their own charges.
But there was one thing remaining.
"What about my message? How do you know what to do? I said all that to the other one."
The sweeper placed his right hand on his chest.
"I remember everything. Don’t worry. Your message will be delivered. Your delivery will reach Herring Redd’s mother. I will take my leave now."
The sweeper went away but not once did he stop picking trash around the street.
In the age of playing, they are forced to use their brain to work.
Zane watched the kid with unknown expressions and Jammy placed his hand on the gutterborn’s shoulder.
"Focus on yourself first, kid. You can’t help anyone if you are dead."
Zane nodded.
"Besides," Xavier added. "If you are so kind, why didn’t you help that thief? He was asking for it."
"He was asking for many things that I can’t possibly give. And it’s better not to associate ourselves with thieves. At least not when I am accused of being one as well."
"Damn. I was only pulling your leg. I wasn’t expecting a serious answer."
Zane laughed.
Xavier did the same and the next second, people began swarming the street.
The prayer was over.
"Alright. Let’s go to your house now. They are waiting."
Zane walked forward and the others followed.
This time, Zane stopped a carriage and went inside.
Hena did the same but she had a scowl on her face.
"Why did you stop a public one? Just how cheap are you?"
Zane said nothing.
He didn’t have the heart to stop a private carriage.
Nevertheless, all of them sat inside and Xavier shared the address to the driver.
The carriage drove off.
Zane looked out the window, seeing the sun in its round shape.
Watching it, he remembered the memory of the sun growing hands.
He jerked his head to forget about it.
I wonder what that thing was.
———
In the alley where the thief was sleeping.
Just after the prayers ended, the thief also came to his senses.
He raised his head and then he stood on his feet.
No wobble.
No gibberish.
No blurred vision.
He stood straight and adjusted his clothing.
"I thought he was kind. I guess, not all the time."
The thief muttered and touched his lower back.
"All that for nothing."
He traced the scars with his fingers and in no time, the scars and the stitches vanished.
As if it was never there.
"Let’s try with a woman this time."
The thief closed his eyes and in the dark alley, a faint golden light glowed.
The short golden hair of the man turned long.
The male chest became the chest of a woman with big breasts.
The yellow shirt and the black pants of the thief turned to a one piece red dress.
"This should work."
The woman nodded and with elegant steps and innocent smile...
"Your trial isn’t over yet, Zane Atlas."
She left the alley.
