Ultimate Justice (25 page)

“Tough,” said Lucy, “love at first sight and she turns out to be an extra-terrestrial! One day you should write a book about it – trouble is no-one would believe you! Perhaps Area 51's full of good-looking alien girls?”

“Don't joke!” said Beth. “He's hurting.”

“She's left still wearing your pants!” remarked Zoe to Beth.

“I know,” said Beth. “I swapped her. I've got her tights and skirt. I possess clothes from the other side of the universe!”

“Shut-UP!” yawped Lucy. “That's really something!”

“Do you think… one day,” said John, “we would be able to go too? I mean, travel the universe through invisible white gates?”

“John,” said Amy, “I don't think you should live in hope of that. You have to let it go.”

“Don't tell him that now,” said Beth, taking his side. “Tell him next week when the pain has eased.”

“Parting is hard, ain't it?” said Da'yelni after a short pause. They were standing on the bridge in her home country again.

“It's the hardest thing of all,” agreed Kakko.

“I expect you will want to be getting on home, back to your planet too.”

“Yep. Better get back. We must go and see if we can get into the theatre where you performed.”

“I can't believe that was only yesterday!” said Dah. “So much has happened in such a short time! It's nearly five o'clock here though. I'd better contact someone,” and as she said it, her phone rang.

“It's my mate from the hostel. Hi Zay… yeah, I've been on a trip, I was out of range… you haven't reported me missing or anything have you…!? That's a relief! Thanks for caring Zay… look, I'm with friends at the moment. We're on our way to Main Street Theatre… no, just seeing them off… Oh. I'd forgotten about that… yeah. I can help out some – I'm a bit tired though… wouldn't you just like to know! I'll tell you all about it later. I did this gig… fantastic. See you then. Bye.

“That was my room-mate, Zaynayi,” explained Dah. “She was going to get in touch with my parents if I didn't show for evening meal. But it's OK. I told her we were going to the theatre and she says they're sorting the food and toys for the families on low incomes. That means the theatre will be open. I had forgotten. We could go in as volunteers. Zay says she thought she might go. She and I will go and eat together somewhere after.”

“That's great,” said Tam. “You can see us off and spend the evening with your friend.”

“I'll miss you guys. Less then twenty-four hours ago I was sitting on this bridge thinking I had run out of chances to do anything with my singing and stuff – and now I am back I know I don't have to mind if they don't like me here. I have fans from another planet that none of them have.”

“And you still have Beth's trousers!”

“Yep. Swapped her. Cool, ain't they? No-one here has got anything quite like these.”

“You'll stand out?”

“A bit. Not much. It's not as if no-one wears things something like these. But the point is,
I
know that they are from another planet. That's cool.”

“And I expect Beth is just as happy. She likes skirts like yours. She was wearing a skirt when we arrived at the hostel.”

The trio walked off the bridge and made their way to the theatre. The doors were open and they walked in to find most of the seats folded and several rows of tables stacked with toys and tins. People were carrying in still more in cardboard boxes and bags of every description.

“Hi,” said a woman who met them inside the door. “You come to help?”

“Yeah. What do you want us to do?” asked Dah.

“Put your things over there so they don't get mixed up with the stuff.”

“I've only got my guitar and my skateboard.”

“Fine. They'll be safe in that corner.”

“Can you see your gate?” asked Dah as they walked over to the corner to deposit her things.

“I'm not quite sure where to look,” said Tam. “The place has been so re-organised. I can't see anything at the moment.”

“Ah, more volunteers!” a middle aged woman approached them. “Come with me. I'll set you on to toys.”

The three young people followed her down towards the front of the hall beneath the stage.

“Here. See the various tables? They range in age and sex. We begin with babies over this side and go up to teens over there. All you have to do is decide where each of the toys belong. In my experience young people are better at it than us oldies. Grandparents are the worst! No idea when children stop liking things. Probably never grew up themselves, or have entered their second childhood…”

There were cardboard boxes and bags of unsorted toys – some used, some new, and a couple of other young people were already wading into them.

“Oh, good! Help has arrived,” said one.

“I don't know how good I'll be at this,” wondered Kakko.

“Oh, don't worry. Just guess. If it's not obvious it probably won't matter.”

Tam took a small box from the pile. He opened it up and saw a variety of pastel shades and a selection of brushes.

“What's this?” he asked Dah.

“Make up set for someone about eleven I would guess,” she replied.

Tam passed the box to her and headed for some stuffed toys. They would be easier, he reckoned. As they got stuck into the work they kept looking around for a white gate.

“If it's in here,” said Kakko, “it would be pretty obvious. We can see all the back of the theatre, and both sides too…”

“Clearly not time to go, then,” agreed Tam. “More work still to be done.”

“What about my assignments? I have a submission in three days!”

“When,” smiled Tam, “have you ever worked on an assignment more than twenty-four hours before the deadline?”

“Not often. I'm usually doing it the night before.”

“Usually? You mean
always
.”

“I did
one
early. I took a week over it – and got my worse marks for it. It's always better if it's fresh.”

“Well, then. You wouldn't be doing your assignments anyway would you? And besides, there is nothing you can do about it. GWTF.”

“Go with the flow… I wasn't exactly getting impatient…
honestly
. I wonder what our Creator has got for us now then?”

“If it's anything like the last twenty-four hours it'll be pretty cool.”

A boy with a tray hovered behind them. “Tea?”

“Lovely,” said Dah. “Thanks. I recommend our Atiota tea. I really couldn't take to that sweet chilled variety they gave us at the hostel in New London.”

“Neither could I,” agreed Kakko, “tea has to be hot. Nan says what we call tea on Joh isn't the same as on Earth, but she never suggested she ever drank it cold with ice in it! Thanks,” she said to the boy. “Now this is
really
good,” she acknowledged after taking a sip. “Mum says they drink something they call ‘bru' on her world. She and Grandma really missed it. Nan said she liked a decent ‘brew', but she meant her kind of Earthly tea, not the Raikan sort.”

Dah spotted her friend. “Zay!” She waved to a tall girl who had just been set on to sorting a stack of tins. The girl waved back but they were too far away from each other to talk. “Don't tell her about our adventures,” Dah warned her extra-planetary friends. “Too complicated. She'll never give up on it. She likes to talk.”

“Got you,” said Tam.

At that moment the organiser called for attention: “Hello everybody. We'll take a meal break in an hour. We'll send out for cold food for everybody. If there is anything you can't eat, let me know.”

“We haven't got any money,” hissed Tam.

“Don't worry,” whispered Dah, “it'll be free to the volunteers.”

“Better earn it, then,” said Kakko putting down her cup and rummaging in another cardboard box. “There are loads of toys here. Some people are very generous.”

Dah texted Zay across the hall. “
Tlk meal time. Hv 2 new frnds – Kakko & Tam
.” Dah watched as Zay checked her phone. Then, as she looked up, pointed out Kakko and Tam. Zay gave her a thumbs up sign and got back to her tins.

***

At the meal break Dah introduced her new friends to Zaynayi.

“So you did another gig last night?”

“Yeah. It was great.”

“Made many new fans,” put in Tam.

“Is it far from here?” asked Zay.

“You
could
say so. Near in some ways, but the other end of the universe in another.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean I can't go back there.”

“But they liked you?”

“Yeah. But it wouldn't work.”

“Why?”

“It just wouldn't. You know me.”

“Dah, at one moment you want to get recognised and the next you want to hide. You can't have it both ways.”

“I know. An introvert musician is not an easy thing. I think I will keep to writing songs and leave it to others to perform them.”

“But your lovely voice,” said Kakko, “it's so unique. No-one could sing your songs like you do!”

“I guess not. But you have to be tough to stand up on a stage. The one
here
proved a disaster,” said Dah nodding towards the stage behind them.

“I told you,” said Kakko, “it was the audience, not you.”

“Yeah. Well, it hurt all the same… but I ain't giving up. Just not going to try to do gigs where no-one wants to hear me.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” said Tam.

Just then, a woman came across to them.

“Aren't you the girl who sang here last night? Da'yelni Lugos?”

“Yes,” said Dah.

“I spotted you and thought, where have I seen that girl before? Then it registered. I thought you were very good.”

“Thanks. But I didn't make much of a hit.”

“Oh, don't think about
that
. You were never going to with that turnout. Most of them were here for that boy-band. They were already fans of them. I think they are too shallow though – all sex appeal and no real musical talent. I give them less than a year – if they don't fall out with each other before that. You were far too deep for their fans.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“I mean it. If I might say so, you shouldn't have come expecting much here last night. Don't give up.”

“I ain't. I am going to carry on writing.”

“Good,” said the woman, “and performing too, I hope…”

“Da'yelni Lugos!” gushed a woman striding over towards the group. It was the organiser. She had just been told they had a musician in their midst. “I have heard all about you, and how you performed so bravely last night.” She took Dah's hand and shook it vigorously. “You are most welcome. If I might… if… would you condescend to sing for us, here, this evening? I mean at the end of the break. Remind us of why we are here and what we need to do to help those least able to help themselves…” she tailed off nervously.

“Go on Dah,” enthused her roommate. “It'll be cool.”

Dah looked taken aback, then glanced around the room.

“But they ain't expecting anyone to
sing
.”

“Oh. Don't worry, they'd just love it.”

“You've got to get your message across,” said Kakko, “you don't just write songs to entertain. You have something to say and people need to hear it. You see, it's
here
as well as… the last place.”

“It is so encouraging to us more mature people when we have young people around with vision,” explained the organiser.

“Go for it!” said Zay impatiently. Dah looked at the cautious Tam who smiled and nodded.

“OK. But I want Kakko and Tam up with me.”

“By all means,” smiled the organiser looking very pleased with life. “That would be even better!” She went off with a happy expression on her face to find a microphone, which she began to tap vigorously.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced. “If I might break into your meal for a moment. Everyone happy?” There were muffled sounds of assent from full mouths. “Da'yelni Lugos here,” she gestured towards Dah, “has just agreed to sing for us.” There was light applause. “For those of us who have not come across her yet she is a talented young woman from the university who writes her own songs about the injustices in this world. I am sure you will be pleased to hear her. Finish your meal and we will have a couple of songs before we get back to work… you are all doing very well. I doubt we will have any more deliveries this evening so it's just finishing up what you already have… and, while I am on my feet, I want to thank you all and everyone who has given so much stuff so generously. It is a tribute to our society that, though we still have far too many people on incomes below the poverty line, we also have a lot of people who care. Finally, our thanks to Mr and Mrs Zol and their helpers for organising our refreshments.” There were many hear-hears and hand clapping.

At the end of the meal the organiser came bustling over to Dah again. “Can you be ready in about five minutes?” she asked.

“OK. Where do you want us to do it from?”

“Why, up on the stage. I have organised a microphone for you.”

Dah glanced up to the very same stage she had fled from less than twenty-four hours before. Tam took her hand.

“Forget about anyone listening. Just do your song. Don't think about them,” he said. “Me and Kakko, do it for us.”

Dah gave him a smile and went to find her guitar.

On the stage, sitting in a chair just like the one she had sung from the previous time and before the same microphone, Dah spoke:

“Hi. These are my friends Kakko and Tam.” She didn't wait for any response but continued to introduce her song. Needless to say this audience were hugely moved. The song and Dah's special voice filled the hall with a quality that was not so discernible on the previous evening. The lesson: that no-one can expect to be appreciated or understood by everyone, everywhere, every time, had not just been learnt by Dah but also by Tam and Kakko. The contrasts of the last twenty-four hours had brought that home to them so clearly.
And
, Kakko contemplated,
I suppose that applies to God Herself too. There are times when I get a rush of appreciation for Her greatness, Her love and Her generosity, but so much of the time I just take Her for granted. I don't give Her a second thought. She must get fed up with me. But God doesn't give up on me. She just waits so patiently. And it's not just me but the whole universe! What a patient God we have. She makes such a difference. Yet the irony of it all is that the people of the universe spend most of their time totally ignoring God and trying to do everything without Her. That is the ultimate injustice.