searching but not finding [[Jack]]

Blisters were forming on my hands when I nailed down the last long log of the fence of the new paddock. I look at my hands and grimace at the large red bubbles on both of my palms. When I look up and take in my hard days work a smile spreads on my face. The fence looks great and will give the horses a new area to munch on what's left of the grass in this heat.
I grab my dirty, sweat soaked shirt from the ground and pull it back on when I notice how merciless the sun has burnt the skin on my shoulders. 'Wonderful' I mutter to myself as I collect the tools and head back to the barn to let the horses out onto their new pasture. As soon as they are outside the start galloping and exploring their new area. Their sight gives me satisfaction. Hopefully there will be some rain soon so they grass will grow again and provide food for these creatures.

Back at the house I inform my boss that I'm finished and receive my meager reward. They top it up with a loaf of bread and some homemade cheese, which I thank them for. I've learned that they'll give me more if I exagerate my thanks.

On my way home the birds whistle above my head. I can't help but stop at what used to be a river and is now reduced to a small stream and sit down right in it. I don't care if my shorts are soaked, on the contrary..that will keep me cool longer. The refreshing liquid soothes my sunburn and revives my senses. Laying on my back I see the birds flying high in the trees, spot a couple of squirrels chasing each other and watch the sun slowly set behind the big maple trees.

When I finally get my strength up again I make my way home along the long lonely road when I suddenly spot a young man coming towards me. It seems strange...another person I've never met before wandering these hills.

Even from a distance I could see how mezmerized the guy was looking at the field of cotton and playing with some cotton balls. It seemed rather odd for a guy of his age, almost like he'd never seen cotton before. But how would that be possible. Everybody had seen cotton before right?

Instead of wondering longer I stop when I reached him. He waves at me, which looks a little awkward. For a moment I look at the cotton between his fingers.
"You like the cotton, man?" I give him one of my smart remarks and then notice that he is not greeting me.

A little worried I scan him for weapons and wonder whether he's one of those guys that hide at dusk and mug people somewhere on lonely roads. He doesn't really seem the type plus he wasn't hiding.

"Are you lost?...I'm Jack."
I offer but get no reply so I add in a sharp tone. "Are you too good to talk to me or something?"

The guy seriously refuses to talk to me. What a prick but then I see the letters the jumpy guy scribbles into the dirt of the road with his finger. Devroux Avox. "Avox?" I asked totally baffled. I've only ever heard about them or seen them on TV. Ther poor bastards that got caught for some ridiculous crime and were turned into slaves without tongues.
With disbeleive in my eyes I look up from the letters and into his face. I'm tempted to ask him to open his mouth so I can see whether he's really got no tongue or is just trying to fool me. But why would he? "YOU are an avox?" I catch myself asking. I'm staring at him like he's a circus clown. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to insult you. I've just never met an avox before."

For a moment I'm silent not knowing what to do. "So Devroux...you're not from district 10, are you?" It's obvious. The guy stands out. I would have noticed him before.
"Where do you want to go...if you're lost. I know every damn spot in this district."

it was really odd for me to see somebody who couldn't speak but communicated through gestures and writing. I immediately felt sorry for the guy and if the opportunity presented itself I would ask him what his crime was. It had to be bad to deserve such a harsh punishment. Then again the capitol punishes people for hunting beyond the fence even if they are starving by death.

I read the letters that are scratched into the dirt beneath my feet. The guy was born in district 11. Immediately he's got my interest.
"Really? You were born in d11 and now you're here, walking around? How did you cross the fence unnoticed. Do you know the healer, who makes really potent medications out of herbs in your district? Can you tell me how to find her?"
I needed to go over there even though I knew it was forbidden. But my father desperately needed medicine.

The next question I have to think about for a moment. I look up in the cloudless sky as if the answer was written there. "The name rings a bell. I'm not really sure right now but I think I've heard her name out on the ranch. If you want me to I can take you there and see what my employers know but right now I have to head home. First thing tomorrow morning I'll be goiung back to work and you can come, if you wish."

I study his boney figure for a moment. "Hungry? Come!"
And off I am on my way home.

"A bit of knowledge about medicine is not going to do I'm afraid." I lead the way but briefly look over at the guy who actually takes the cotton with him. How strange. What is he going to do with it? Put it in a picture frame?
For a while we walk along the road without speaking. Occassionally I look over and study him.
"I've just finished work on the ranch. I work with horses but today I had to build a fence." As proof I show him my palms and the blisters on them.
"I'll take you to my house. It's pretty small, nothing fancy."
Then we walk again in silence.
I watch the fields travel by. With every step we get closer to home I grow more anxious to ask what's really on my mind.
So when the first house comes in sight I ask. "How did you cross the fence without being noticed?"

As soon as we enter my house, a wooden construction with more holes than swiss cheese and a simply woodstove in the living area, I quickly tell my parents that I brought home a friend from school and then hurry off to the attic of our house where I usually sleep. Up there I've also got my school books and pencils. Quickly I brows through my bag and find a note pad and a pencil that I hand over to Devroux.
I'm so eager to find out about the fence and the other district that my hands a shaking slightly.

While I watch the Avox scribble something on the paper I look at his face. He's young but he seems....'weathered'. Like he's been through a lot. "I'm not sure if I can ask you this...but I really don't know anything about Avoxes. You were punished for something, right? Would you tell me what?" My mind is working hard to figure out what kind of a crime would deserve that kind of punishment.

Downstairs I can hear my dads familiar coughing and the rattling of pots and pens. The smell is very promising....some cornstew.

With disbelief in my eyes I look up at him and once I see his expression I know he's telling me the truth. Why not? The story was beleivable from my point of view. They killed my brother for less. "You're actually lucky you survived. Here's my piece of history with the peace keepers."
I'm about to tell him when I suddenly pause. Why do I tell this to a stranger? Maybe to make him feel better about his fate. "During one of those cold winters a few years back one of my older brothers stole some food for us because we were practically starving and no rations were getting through to the normal people of our district. So he took some from the doctors stash. They caught him, dragged him in the market square and shot him."
It still hurts to tell the story even though it was a long time ago.

"We all do what we need to do, right?"
I clap him on the shoulder before I climb down the ladder to the main floor. Before I dissapear I pause once more. "We're outcasts here, don't worry."

Then I wave him down to tell my family about our guest.
I kiss my mother on the cheek and greet dad before I wash my hands and sit down on the big wooden table that once seated 5 of us.
"I brought a friend. His name is Devroux. He can't speak , please don't ask why. I think you'll guess it anyway. I offered him a meal and a bed for tonight if that's alright with you father."
I know it's not. They are afraid, afraid of the capitol, the peacekeepers, trouble of any sort now that our life is back to normal. But this boy needs our help, which is as plain as daylight.

My mother takes dads hand and gives a quick nod.
"Do you like bean stew, Devroux?" She smiles.