You Can’t Leave the Town

I think they’re under the impression that they pay me well. I came across their town a few years ago. A lot of people that were under qualified wanted the job. Their mayor, or whatever he calls himself, at least knew enough to see that. When I arrived, it seemed that based on the amount of goods they were able to produce and trade with other settlements that I would be paid more than I am. So, I started integrating into their population with the intention of joining their guard and finding my place in life that way.

Sometimes I feel a bit cheated, knowing that others were raised with a lot more training in how to go about obtaining a good job doing this. My parents didn’t think that this skill was appropriate for a young person to learn, even though they knew I needed to know it eventually. In the end, I have a job, but I’m not sure if it’s taking more energy than I’m getting compensated for or not at this point. Some of the other guards I’ve seen are doing worse, but that’s either because they’re stupid or the town they work for tricked them and is blatantly holding them hostage.

My case feels a bit different. I can’t find an acceptable explanation for my current situation. Perhaps I’m deluded in thinking so, but I believe my town genuinely believes that the arrangement we have is fair. I know the people there like me, and have good intentions. Perhaps no one has been truthful enough with them about how demanding this job is. I know the last guard they had bent over backwards and ultimately worked himself to death keeping them safe, but that isn’t the type of relationship a town should have with their guard, and it definitely isn’t one that can last.

I’m not sure if- wait… I think I see a pack of the beasts to the east… Yes… I’ll get closer and scare them off before they get too close to the town.

What was I saying? I don’t remember. 

I walk east for about an hour.

I’m caught between a rock and hard place. On the one hand, I know better jobs are out there. I passed one a few weeks ago while I was tracking a pack that nearly raided my town. I had to find them or else I knew they would return. Anyway, a town needed a guard, and I probably could have taken the job. All signs pointed toward them knowing how to compensate a guard, but what would have happened to my town?

This may be hubris, or it may be an accurate analysis of my skill, or somewhere in between, but I am one of the best guards for the types of towns that are near here. I have skills that usually only older, more experienced guards have, and I know how to root out the beasts better than anyone I know. I don’t mean skills that a town thinks they want, like fancy gun play and showmanship, that all is meaningless after a while. I mean skills like tracking, finding problems before a town knows they exist, and showing the people there how to fix them. Skills required to make sure a town actually thrives and not only survives.

Beasts aren’t the only problem, and half the time they aren’t even the worst. Problems that begin inside the town are often just as bad, and a guard needs to know how to make sure their town’s population knows how to fix them as well. Sometimes it’s poison that wipes out an entire town while everyone is looking for beasts in the storms outside. They look for those creatures so hard they trick themselves into seeing them. Sometimes they may actually see one, but the damage they do by facing outward all the time is worse than if the occasional beast got too close. I know guards that have ultimately died because the town was convinced the internal problems were handled, but it ate them from the inside out, and then there was nothing left to sustain the guard or the town. Other towns can only send so much aid.

I’m close to the pack now. I think a warning shot will convince them to leave. Yes, most of these beasts are young, there are only a few adults. If I kill one of the adults they should scatter. Compared to a pack I fought off several years ago, these all seem fairly easy. It’s easy to be tricked though, some packs are bigger than they first appear, and the storm can play tricks on your eyes.

CRACK.

The terrible beast fell into the sand. Blood soaked into it before it could pool. The thick, wet sand collapsed in on itself creating a small crater of deep red.

It’s the damn accountant. She is always screwing up the numbers for the towns production. It’s underreported and that’s why I’m under-paid. That’s my theory anyway. I haven’t found any evidence of this being purposeful or malicious. Still, I do imagine cutting my losses and just leaving. The town will suffer some before finding another guard, but it may finally realize the severity of the unequal relationship and form something better with the next guard. My heart would hurt for them though, and I would miss the friendships I’ve made dearly.

At the same time, would new friendships at a place where I am valued appropriately for what I do turn out to be better? It’s hard for me to say. I don’t have the context to make that judgement, since this has been my first and only job. It’s hard to make a decision you know will cause suffering for a reason they may not understand, or worse, a reason that they feel is wrong. When does my responsibility to the town end, and my responsibility to myself begin? At the same time, I’ve tried to explain. They insist, and I think they genuinely believe, they are being fair. Maybe they are, and my own perspective is skewed. It is possible but I have thought about this in as many ways as possible and I don’t think it is. Still, the possibility nags my mind. It wears me down sometimes. All the time.

I have made my fair share of bad decisions. I believe many of them were a result of my perceived mistreatment, but that is only a guard’s perspective. I have sought out consultants who are more educated in things of this nature, and who are unbiased, to give me guidance. While their code does not allow them to suggest actions or influence a guard or town to any decision, their recited wisdom does make me think that a decision must be made, and that my situation is untenable.

I’ve used up so much time, however. I’m not sure if it’s worth- That’s not true. Given that I could find another employer in a reasonable amount of time, it would be worth it if I found one more compatible with my interests. That’s another issue. The town I work for doesn’t seem to have aligned objectives with mine. But still, there is always the question of whether or not there will be another. As a guard, you can’t visit other towns if you’re employed. And rightfully so.

Fewer and fewer jobs are out there, and leaving one town for another is a risk. There’s also always risk of injury. The injury itself isn’t usually the problem, it’s nowhere to return to that is. I think… Yes, I have ammunition enough to last the journey between towns, I think. Food is another issue. I think I’ll be fine but there’s no way to be sure. I am also genuinely concerned for my town if I leave. If anything happens I know I would feel responsible. So many people wouldn’t understand, and I don’t know how to explain it to them. I care so much for them but at the same time, I can’t survive much longer with the arrangement I ignorantly made with the leadership there. I’ve tried to explain my position so many times but they either don’t believe me or think I’m exaggerating.

BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP. CLICK.

I hold my breath while I change the filter in my gas mask. I disassemble the old one to inspect the elements. Dirtier then I expected… I’ll have to change this one earlier…

I dream.

Circles… so many circles. Some touch on the edges. Some intersect, some are almost centered on each other perfectly. These over here don’t intersect the others at all. Some are as small as I am tall. Those are worn in deepest. The large ones are worn in less, but they encompass so much more. It’s hard to judge which are more important and which can be effectively ignored.

There aren’t many lines. That’s good. There are a few, and they are deep, but erosion is slowly erasing them. They will never be gone completely, I don’t think. They almost never disappear.

I wake.

A song comes to me, but I can’t remember everything. I think it goes like: black clouds are behind me, I can see ahead. I wonder why I try, I hope for an end. Sorrow weighs my shoulders down and trouble haunts my mind, but I know it will not last and tomorrow will be nicer. I forgot some of the words, but it makes me feel better, even if tomorrow in reality, may not be nicer. Today I’ve cried many tears, and pain is in my heart. Around me lies a somber scene. I don’t know where to start. I feel warmth on my skin. The stars have all aligned. The wind has blown but now I know that tomorrow will be kinder. It was kinder, not nicer. I’d settle for either.

The air is clearer here. There is a tree in the distance that appears to have a lot of shade underneath. I’ll stop there and rest.

I remove my pipe from my bag and remove my mask. The air smells clean. I decide to light my pipe and rest. Perhaps I will read a book. Even here there are small pleasures that restore my soul. I wish I didn’t rely on them so much.

Days go by.

The isolation is the worst. I can’t visit other towns and the people in mine don’t understand me. I know this is a time when it feels worse than other times. I don’t know how to judge what feelings are more accurate. Are the ones when I feel my worst reality, or is it the ones when I feel my best? Is it even appropriate to judge feelings on accuracy?

When I feel, it is a reaction to a situation. Accuracy is a judgement applied to facts relative to something else, to measurable quantities. Feelings are just a reaction in my head. Can a feeling be accurate? What would it be judged against? Are they all accurate? Are none of them? Is a judgement of accuracy meaningless? Is it like asking what color the number five would be based on no other qualifying information?

The more I think about this the more I realize there is more to think about. Is there an end to it? Or is the action of trying to find the end only making the tunnel longer? My observing the problem is the trigger to make it more complex. It is some relationship tied together by an unknown principle that people have not even tried to understand. Maybe some have, a long time ago.

I can’t bring myself to stop. Deep in my mind there is something that tells me that I will find the end. Is this just an elaborate gambler’s fallacy? If I stopped I know I would always wonder. Was I close to the end? I don’t think I will ever know, but I can’t stop. I can’t stop. I can’t stop. I can’t stop…

I know there is an end. There must be. There can’t not be. I can’t believe there isn’t. Maybe there is and I’m not on the right track. Did my thoughts miss something earlier? Was there something that would change my whole approach? Is the search for something I missed like this one? If I go back and look for it, will that search never end? This reminds me of the circles I saw earlier. It’s a good analogy.

Would a life with no employer be worth it? I know others have done it, but not many are happy. I would like to be happy, but I also know the search for it causes unhappiness itself.  Where is the line between contentment and drive? I think they can coexist. I just need to learn how. I think I know mostly. It must involve not connecting the results of drive to contentment. They need to exist separately.

Is it better to feel isolated because you are, or to be with people that make you feel isolated? Maybe there isn’t a difference. I think being with people that make you feel isolated is worse, because with people comes the thought that it could possibly be your fault that you feel that way. When you’re alone, the reason is obvious, and it is not your fault.

In the distance I see fighting. A guard is fighting off a pack of beasts. She looks like she is handling them well, but I can lend assistance.

I make my way to the outskirts of the fighting. Beasts lie slain everywhere. I pull out my rifle and take aim. BOOM. A beast falls. BOOM. Another. This goes on for several minutes. I run back and forth to avoid the attention of the beasts. When the remaining creatures flee, the guard looks toward me and smiles a thank you. I wave and return the gesture. She makes her way back to her town and into its gates where the citizens bring her food and drink and carry her in. I’m happy for her.

I make sure my rifle is loaded and sling it back over my shoulder. I should check in on my town. I haven’t been gone long, so I don’t expect anything to be wrong. Others leave their towns for longer in search of supplies and to do trading, but I’ve learned I can’t leave as long as others, so I head back.

They are angry. I don’t know why. They said I was gone too long, but I thought I wasn’t gone very long at all. I try to explain. They don’t understand, and they don’t listen to my reasoning. I think tonight I will camp outside the walls.

In the darkness there is stillness. A peace. A chill. What is a chill but the absence of motion? A stillness. I drift to sleep but am awakened shortly by the dissatisfied citizens of my town. They ask why I’m outside sulking. I don’t know how to explain my thoughts. I don’t think I can. It seems there is no recourse. I’m trapped by the inability of others to understand. It is the Hebrew Sheol. The between-world where everything is in limbo. Nothing rests. No thoughts can find their end. It feels like holding your breath, waiting for fresh air, and only being fed a small bit at a time.

I know, at the same time if I leave, many will be heartbroken. I can’t leave the town.