Wheelchair Wars (i)

Oh my Emperor, please let me suffer and die in your name – A nun’s prayer from The Order of Deliverance

The Emperor is our God; may we suffer greatly for our salvation – A nun from the Order of Retribution

Our Emperor, who doth rule from Earth,

Hallow be thy name,

Thy Empire conquer all,

What is done on Earth pervades the Universe

Give us your spirit and courage,

Forgive us any trespass

And deliver us to your Service

The chanting reverberated through Audrey’s body. Her two surviving roommates were on their knees on each side of her, and her wheelchair. In front of them, holding a wooden triangle, in her habit was Sister Nora. A tall woman with an aquine face, she towered over them. Her face is stern. The chanting has been going on for nearly half an hour in the small prayer room.

“That’s enough now, girls. You can go back to your room.” Sister Nora spoke in an authoritative tone, devoid of any love or intimacy.

The two girls on either side of Audrey rose, their faces twisted in pain from their stiff knees.

Audrey struggled to reverse and turn her manual wheelchair in the small space between two aisles of pews. One of the girls begins to push her and whispers into her ear. “I’ll let you take it easy, since it’s your last night with us. Ya lucky bitch.” Audrey looked back at her friend, Grainne, with a small smile. The other girl was Mary.

The few minutes it took to reach the dormitory down narrow, dark corridors were spent in silence.

Their dormitory was large with enough space for thirty girls. But there were only the three of them, and they clustered near the door. A pang shot through Audrey when she thought of all those that were missing. Disease had taken many, batterings from the sisters took some more. The others were sold to slave in the brothels.

Audrey’s movements were slower than those of others. It took longer for her to remove her purple uniform. That, and she couldn’t walk.

After lifting up her footplates and parking beside the bed, she used her hands to propel herself onto it.

This was a time to sleep, and the lights would switch off in a few minutes. But that rarely happened. The darkness was the only time they had when they could be sure they were not being watched.

Grainne was the first to speak. “Going to miss you Audrey.”

“Yeah, me too,” Mary whispered.

Tears rolled down Audrey’s face. “Yeah, me too. And I hate the thought of leaving you here.”

“I doubt we’ll be here much longer,” Grainne replied. “One of the sisters told we’re being sold to Richies in a few days. I hate the thought of having to please all those old, smelly men. I’d rather have an opportunity like you, even if it risked death.”

“I don’t know if I could be as brave as Audrey,” Mary murmured, “You have already had so many great victories. And now tomorrow, you get to leave this place. The Na Fianna compound has to be better. At least one of us has a chance.”

Then there was silence.

When Audrey woke in the morning, they were gone. Instead, Sister Ita stood at the side of the bed. A round woman with piercing brown eyes. “Come on, get dressed. I’m to bring you to the Na Fianna compound. Give me a shout when you are ready.” With that, she turned and went to wait outside.

Audrey grimaced. Sister Ita was the last person she wanted to spend her day with. She was renowned for her vicious nature and taste for some of the younger girls. She tried to put such thoughts in the back of her mind.

As they left the convent, they paused in front of the large metallic triangle hanging from the ceiling. “To the eternal power of the Emperor,” they said in unison.

Outside the central door, they were immediately hit with the smell. A foul mixture of sweat and excrement. The thoroughfare was crowded with children in rags. “Why doesn’t the Emperor just annihilate this scum?” Audrey knew that the Sister wasn’t expecting a response.

The thoroughfare was a large area with a high ceiling. But the rest of the journey was down narrow passageways with poor lighting. Some of the living spaces they passed didn’t even have front doors. Audrey could see into the little hut rooms that passed as their abodes.

It took two hours to reach the Na Fianna compound. Audrey smiled with glee every time the Sister moaned about having to push her creaky wheelchair and her meagre belongings.

Serves the bitch right after all she has done.

Oreus was waiting for them as they entered the bright and clean compound. The Sister gasped at the limbless man in the powerful, armed wheelchair. Audey had met him previously and said a warm hello.

Oreus ignored the Sister as if she were not there. He ordered one of his men to lift Audrey into an electric wheelchair.

“Now, you can come and go as you please, Audrey. Never again will you have to rely on a walker for movement,” Oreus voice boomed, “now follow me.”

Audrey looked around to see that the hated Sister was gone before pushing the joystick to follow Oreus. There were others there with all different manners of shapes, sizes, and malformations. She hoped to get to know many of them better in time.

“This is your quarters. Battle practice in an hour or so. See you again then.You should take every moment here very seriously. Your life depends on it.”

The room was more spacious than she had anticipated. There was a single bed with white sheets and a pillow. There were no stains like back at the convent. There was even a drawer for her clothes. There were some blotches on the green wall, but that wouldn’t bother her.

An hour later, she had unpacked and gone to the great hall for training.

The Magic of Match Sticks: An Intergenerational Poker Tale

The mood has turned serious and silence pervades apart from the shuffling of cards. It had been a boisterous atmosphere hours before. All that banter, love, and warm embraces are temporarily set aside. The light is on but the room feels darkened. The adults and myself sitting around the dining room table full of cards and cups of tea. A small television has long been switched off. The smell of my Grandfather’s cigarette pervades the room.

I have so many questions but I know to keep my mouth closed. This is adult time and I really should be tucked away in bed. My Mum has let me stay open a while longer but under strict instructions and letting me know I’m going to be tired tomorrow. And I’ll have nobody to blame but myself. Tomorrow doesn’t seem like something I should be worried about. Not at my age anyway.

My Granddad is looking serious. His many years are etched onto his face. The lines on his forehead become more pronounced as he stares at his cards. My uncles are struggling to quite take it so seriously breaking out into smiles every so often and joking about the poor cards they have been dealt. My Dad and Mam say nothing. I want to ask what they have but say nothing. My Gran shows me her cards and gives me a wide grin. We now have a secret bond. My Gran points at two of her cards. They look the same. That has to be good.

My Grandad put all of his match sticks into the middle of his table. Gasps ring out around the table. I gather they are playing something called “Poker” and these match sticks are somewhat important apart from lighting Grandad’s smokes. It’s all very strange.

The game ends abruptly. I asked Gran if we won. She smiles and says no.

Then they play again and then again.

I’m getting tired now. This is all too much. My Mam tells me I need to go to bed, that I’m really tired. I nod in agreement. I’ll have so many questions in the morning about these matchsticks and why they are so important. One after another, they wish me goodnight and my mind is full of wonder about what I’ll do tomorrow.

If only I could back now and watch them play one more time.