Story:Birdwatching

Morning

Janca Acrechi wakes up at a usual hour in the morning, sun high in the sky. Another day to work in that new district in the southwest. Meathawk duty. Hooray.

Janca, hearing the bells of 09:40 ring, curses the gods as he hurriedly puts on his tunic and chooses a dull sash which complements it poorly. He dashes down the stairs, nearly tripping on the fifth flight down, before reaching the street. He jumps on the nearest horse heading in the right direction, knocking its previous passenger off.

Terrified, the horse gallops at the pace of a rumour. Janca, having done this multiple times before, easily maintains his handle on the horse as it neighs, causing quite a commotion and turning the heads of a few passers-by.

As the market begins to assemble on the next street over, the rampant horse speeds through at alarming speed. Janca opportunistically grabs a handful of mushrooms and eats them. A travelling gourdmonger stacking gourds is subtly interrupted by the sounds of the screaming horse, and then overtly interrupted by that horse leaping through the stall and knocking over the stack of gourds. The old gourdmonger shakes their fist at the horse and its rider: "Damn you, servant of Ajia, I've been stacking these since last bell!"

Managing to get a modicum of control over the horse, Janca directs it southwards, towards the new district. Followed by a handful of rightfully indignant greengrocers, he tries to steer the horse into a nearby alley, but to no avail.

The grocers half-surround the horse, then manage to somewhat calm it. Janca takes a moment to get off the horse, pushes one of the grocers aside, then darts to the alley. Jumping over a bin and ducking under a pipe, Janca needles his way through the alley. The grocers briefly pursue him, but stop at the bin, realising they still have stalls to set up.

Janca exits the alley, and runs southwards towards the work site in the new district. Realising that it's well past 08:00, he tries to sneak around the work site, so as for his lateness to go un·noticed. This proves to be rather tricky, as the work site is an open area with a dozen or so builders carrying concrete bricks from one spot to another.

He waits strategically for a builder to carry a large enough pile of bricks so that he can walk behind, go around, and act like he's been here all morning.

He sees a crew begin lifting a bunch of bricks large enough to walk behind. In a few moment's time, they'll—

"Hey, Acrechi! You're a bell earlier than usual!"

He's been spotted by one of the foremen. Drat. And that foreman is Naiye Fret. Double drat.

"What happened this time? Did you tie yourself to a wall?"

A couple of foremen laugh with Fret. Janca scowls.

"Anyway, get to your station. Joric, make a note of Acrechi's entry."

Kicking the sand and dust in Fret's general direction, Janca paces towards his station.

The term "station" is what Fret calls it. It's a euphemistic term for the unsafe structure where Janca sits for hours on end. Without water. It's an odd structure, and worse than its counterparts in other work sites.

Carefully climbing a rusted ladder, Janca gets into the structure. It's equipped with a dusty pair of binoculars. Janca barely uses them. If a meathawk were to show up at this site, Fret would see it before anyone looking through these binoculars.

Next to the binoculars is a cord, leading to a bell. Janca doesn't pull the cord. Causing mass panic at a work site is generally frowned upon.

Noon

The bells of 12:00 ring from the northeast.

All around Janca, outside the horrible structure he's confined to, the builders do useful work. Unloading bricks from the horse, carrying the bricks to the lift, hoisting the lift, applying mortar, placing bricks, checking they're level, checking that everyone involved in building the new district doesn't hurt themselves in the process. These are all important and meaningful tasks. Janca's work, sitting in a precarious box and waiting for a bird that no·one in their right mind would expect to arrive, feels deeply meaningless by comparison.

Looking out at the horizon, there are no signs of any large birds, meathawk or otherwise. Janca never expected any such signs, anyhow.

The bells of 12:20 ring. The builders keep building. No meathawk has been seen.

The bells of 12:40 ring. Bricks are laid, lifts are hoisted, and meathawks aren't here.

The bells of 13:00 ring. The builders take a break. Janca is not invited, as Fret says something about the importance of protecting the site from any meathawks that may arrive.

The bells of 13:20. Fret hands Janca a single bean, dessicated beyond recognition.

"Have this food. Don't want you to go hungry."

Janca leaves the bean to the side of the binoculars to gather dust.

The bells of 13:40. A small gust of wind breathes through the site. The bean rolls onto the sand.

Bells of 14:00. Noticing that Fret is focused on the lift, Janca attempts to sneak out of the structure. Opening the door, he swings it carefully to the side, so as not to make a noise.

"What're you doing?"

There is a foreman right in front of Janca. Sensibly, he closes the door, waits a while, and tries again, only this time it is Fret who stares right at him.

"Enjoy your meal?"

A gust of wind picks up the bean. It brushes against Fret's sash. Fret notices.

"I guess you didn't."

Fret then looks Janca in the eye.

"You know, watching for meathawks is a very important task. You are the one who prevents our bricks from being eaten."

Janca visibly cannot care less about what Fret is saying.

"It's of utmost priority that you don't undertake this task on an empty stomach. Here."

Fret picks up the sand-coated bean and hands it to Janca. Janca just holds it.

"Eat up."

Janca timidly tries to brush off at least some of the sand.

"Don't waste your time. It's just sand. Eat up."

Janca lifts the bean to near his mouth. Fret smiles.

"Go on."

Now that the bean is close to his nostrils, Janca can detect its foul odour.

"Don't mind the smell. Eat up."

A crowd begins to form around them. Janca instinctively pushes the bean away from his mouth.

"What's taking you so long? Just eat it."

Janca cannot bring the bean any closer to his face. He tries using his other arm. Someone in the crowd says "eat". The crowd begins chanting: "Eat! Eat! Eat!"

"Stop playing with your food."

Subtly, Janca steps towards Fret, bean in hand. Someone in the crowd throws a pinch of dust at Janca. Luckily, he blinks in time.

Fret steps closer to Janca, towering over him by standing on a well-balanced pile of bricks.

"Eat. U—"

The crowd stops chanting. Fret looks down to see Janca's hand in his mouth. Janca lets go of the bean, and thus it rolls down Fret's throat.

Janca then takes his hand out of Fret's mouth, then steps backwards. Fret coughs and hacks, trying to get the bean, its odour, and its sand out of his throat while simultaneously cursing at Janca.

The crowd just disperses, going back to carrying bricks or applying mortar. Janca is already back in the structure.

Afternoon

Bells of 15:00. No meathawk has been seen in the past hour. No meathawk has been seen in any of the hours today, be they in Janca's shift or earlier.

No meathawk has been seen in the past month. Not at times Janca was meant to be watching, nor at times when he was actually present. Nor in anyone else's shifts.

No meathawk has been seen since the installation of the scaffolds, nor since the raising of the first bricks; not since the first delivery of mortar, nor the hiring of the crew, nor even the establishment of the work site. Not a single meathawk has been seen in the southwest of the city of Waranje all year, let alone the new district.

Meathawks are solitary birds. Very rarely is more than one meathawk ever seen at the same moment, unless looking from a very tall tower over a large stretch of land. When one is seen, for instance, by a group of three-to-seven travellers on a road between two cities, it is customary to shout "MEATHAWK", so as to warn every person nearby of the meathawk's presence. When a meathawk gets to within a stone's throw of a small group of people, there exist two possible outcomes, one vastly more likely than the other, with both having one party become the other's supper.

Bells of 15:20. Janca has been sitting in the structure, idly thinking about meathawks to take his mind off the bean incident. He remembers to look into the distance every once in a while, in case one shows up. None do.

Janca's idle thoughts are interrupted by the sound of gentle footsteps. He turns around, and sees Joric, holding a bottle.

"What's this?"

"A bottle. It contains water."

"Oh. Thanks."

Janca takes the bottle, its glass surface cool to the touch, and unwinds the cap so as to open it. He lifts the bottle up to his mouth, and tilts it so liquid flows. It is indeed a bottle of cold, refreshing, water.

"Again, thank you."

"After everything which Fret's put you through for more than one month now, I thought I would at least provide help."

Janca drinks more of the cold water. It feels excellent as it flows down his throat.

"Where did you get this?"

"I brought more than one or two of them; the bottles which contain the water, that is. From home I got them. I have a freezer which contains the bottles."

"Should I pay you back sometime? I have a few—"

"You have no need."

"Oh."

Finishing the water, Janca hands the bottle back to Joric.

"May the last four bells go well."

Bells of 15:40. No meathawk is seen nor expected to be seen.

Bells of 16:00. The wind comes in, shifting the dust. It's also a tad cooler as the sun descends.

Bells of 16:20. The hoisting of the bricks and the application of mortar slow down. Janca picks up the binoculars, tries to look through them, and just sees dust.

Bells of 16:40. The number of workers on site is beginning to diminish as a handful of them surreptitiously abscond.

Bells of 17:00. Janca's shift is finally over. He climbs and bends out of the structure. Joric watches to make sure he isn't injured as he does so.

The night crew walk into the site as Janca leaves.

Night

The sunset is brief, shining behind Janca as he makes his way back to the old district. Having seen no meathawks, today ends like many others, with Janca slowly walking past the emptied market streets and the closing shops to reach a small restaurant.

He walks down some stairs to approach the basement door. He casually opens it. Seeing him enter, a waiter ticks off a box in Janca's contract then walks to him, passing three full tables.

"Welcome back, Janca! What will it be today?"

"Same as usual."

Janca then walks to the same seat he normally does, sits down, and waits for a while.

Alone amidst the conversations, Janca reflects on the day. Another day of arriving at work late. Another day of Fret being a prick therein. Another day with no meathawk spotted. At least today was a little different than usual, with Joric providing some help to get through the long, hot, day.

Janca looks around whilst he waits for his meal to be prepared. On one table, he sees a group of children excitedly talking about rockball. On another, he sees a couple of old Akarians complaining about something, though he doesn't know enough Akarian to understand what. As he notices a Modhes priest walking in, he's interrupted for the people-watching.

"Janca? Your rice and fish."

"Oh. Uh, thank you."

Another day ends with a delicious and familiar bowl of rice and fish. He savours it, walks home, climbs up the stairs to his bed, and falls in.