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fire-and-gasoline-series · 10 months

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Fire & Gasoline

Chapter One: Part One: The Scholar

I can't sleep. My eyes are focused on the ceiling fan that is slowly oscillating, and my stomach is uneasy. The "tool" from SHED arrives in the morning. I didn't want to participate in the program, but it became mandatory after the death of my husband. The SHED Program, The Social Healing and Equality Development Program, was developed after the War of Creeds.

A couple weeks ago, a tool salesman came to the door with a large catalog and the word "SHED" written across the front. Below the word "SHED" was a happy family with their tools smiling at the cleanliness of their home.

"We have so many tools available, Mrs. Peters. Look, you can't live out here alone with two kids and do it all by yourself. I know you lost your husband six months ago, but for the good of the Matriarch of the Rose Fist, please choose a tool." I could see the desolation on his face and in his voice.

I nodded in politeness, and he handed me the catalog. This was his third visit to our home, and I often wondered what happened each time he didn't succeed in getting a tool for our family. I never once asked his name when he came over, but we always sat at the table and drank a pot of peppermint tea. I was lucky that my children and I were not sent to the tool program, or worse, the disposal program. We were told to be grateful to the Rose Fist for putting us on the freedom list.

After Luke, my husband, passed away, our neighbors kept pestering me to get a tool. "Aurellia, you know how dangerous it can get on the mountain. A good and decent tool can help you throughout the harsh winter months." Mrs. Grimes, who was always showing off the work her tools did on the house before winter and in the yard before summer, remarked.

I was told that most tools were used for manual labor, but I had my suspicions that they were also used for a number of unsavory tasks. I thumbed through each section: kitchen tools, garage tools, domestic cleaning tools, cooking tools, yard tools, handy tools, etc. I couldn't just choose one tool with the minimal amount of information given next to each photo. I was both scared and sad as I looked through the tools listed. What if the tool harms the children or myself? What if the tool doesn't work and gets disposed of by SHED? The worry started to show up on my face, and the tool salesman took a deep breath and looked up at me.

"Listen, if you want to give it a try, I recommend starting with an older tool. One that may have a good fifteen to twenty years left. They're easier to handle, plus we do monthly check-ins to see how the tool is working out. This program is guaranteed to be safe. As I went over with you before, all tools are processed, sterilized, and sent through a vigorous training program. I assure you, there is nothing to fear."

"Sorry," I say apologetically to the salesman. "I am just not sure I really need one. Can't I just sign the waiver?"

"We've been over this with you a number of times, Mrs. Peters. You're a widow, and you're lucky to be part of the freedom program. The best way to show your gratitude to the Matriarch of the Rose Fist is to participate in the SHED program. Look, your neighbors pay a heavy fee every month for good tools, and you are so lucky and blessed that you get the top-quality tools for no charge at all."

He looks sincere, like he really cares. I know he just wants to do his job and help us. After every visit, I receive a survey card from SHED, a mandatory evaluation of the tool salesman. I always rate him with high marks; I can't imagine what would happen to him if I didn't. In all honesty, he was always above and beyond in his customer service and genuinely wanted to match me with the right tool.

I continue flipping through the pages until I reach the end, Education Tools. A familiar tool pops out at me. Could this be? I thought this tool was disposed of by the Northern Crown, the country just north of the Rose Fist. I looked again at the photo, and there appeared to be an older man with white and gray wavy hair and a beard that matched. He reminded me of the illustrations of God found in old religious orthodoxy books. These books are, of course, currently banned from those not in the freedom program; even then, only a select few individuals had them as relics in their homes as a sign of status.

Under the photo of the old man it read...

Scholar Tool

Approximately 65 years of age

15-20 years left before disposal

I looked up at the salesman and pointed out the scholar tool to him. His eyes widened. Did he know who the scholar was?

"Are you sure? What would you do with a scholar tool?"

I looked into the salesman's eyes and gave him a slight smile. "He'll be a great help to my children's education. While he teaches them, I can tend to the work that is needed around the house. After all, you said that all tools went through rigorous training and processing. I have no doubt this scholar tool will be a great educator and will teach my children to be loyal citizens to the Matriarch of the Rose Fist."

The tool salesman smiled, took his scanner out, and scanned the code below the scholar tool's photo. Alright, Mrs. Peter, it looks like you are in luck. The scholar tool is available; now this particular tool is being imported from the Northern Crown, so it'll take a couple of weeks to arrive. We also like to ensure all tools are prepped and ready for their new homes."

He closes the catalog, stands up, and shakes my hand. "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Peters. Thank you for using SHED for all your domestic needs. I am really happy we were able to find you the right tool." I accompany him out the front door and wish him safe travels back down the mountain. After he drives away, I walk back inside, shut the door, and walk back upstairs to tell my children the good news.

Stay tuned for the remainder of Chapter One...

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