The Road of Lights

It all started but five months ago, I think...

It was just another morning in Kettle City. My alarm clock, a small makeshift water fountain made of reflective, colorful, smooth, shiny paper and scrap metal I had found in Uncle Kye's old junk box chimed gently. Luckily I was a light sleeper. Uncle Kye said I could wake up to the sound of a dog whistle. I turned off the alarm, stretched, and stepped out of bed.

A full length mirror decorated with a frame of more of the reflective paper (I used it a lot in my decorating and projects) was directly in front of my bed, so that when I stepped out from bed, I was the first thing I saw.

I stared back at the girl in the mirror. She has bright, emerald-green eyes, a face full of color and youth, and a tall and skinny frame, hidden underneath a two-sizes-too-big gray mechanic shirt and baggy blue pajama pants dotted with shooting stars. She peered at herself as she ran her fingers through her short, sapphire-blue bedhead.

As she did, a squeaky and beeping robot came rolling into the room. He came up to my waste, and sparks crackled from him and his eyes glowed brightly. He was dented in some places and the only way he could move around was a rotating wheel planted at the bottom of him. He was holding a plate of kiwis and pancakes covered in raspberry syrup, and offered it to me.

"Good-mo-orning-young-mistress-Fa-a-a-aange." The little machine said in his mechanical voice that occasionally pitched to different highs and lows. "Ma-aster-Kye-has-cooked- y-you-breakfast-and-has-asked-for-you-to-meet-him-down-in-the-work-shop-whe-when-you- are-done."

I took the plate from him."Thank you, RAM."

The little machine stuttered a "you're welcome" and wheeled back out of my room. RAM was the first robot Uncle Kye had ever built, a Robotic Assistance Mechanism. Ram had been created when I was ten, so he was pretty old and rundown, and we often had to replace faulty wiring inside him or fix him when he malfunctioned. Uncle Kye had long since wanted to toss RAM in a scrap metal heap and create a better robot, but every time I convinced him not to. RAM was part of the family to me, and to see the little guy get thrown into a scrap metal heap-well, I wouldn't stand for it. Plus, the robotic LifePacks nowadays were more expensive than we could afford. Ram's was simply a free one that Uncle Kye had gotten one day poking through an old junkyard for spare parts.

I sat on my bed and began delving into my favorite breakfast. I looked around as the early-morning light beamed through my window and illuminated my bedroom. It reflected off the little metal work charms that were dangling from my walls, bouncing off of the metal-and-ruby roses shining with small blue-gemstone dew hanging on my door on green metal vines that snaked all around my door, making the blown-glass orbs in hues of blues, greens, yellows, purples, or other colors combined in swirls within hanging from my ceiling shine. This was probably my most favorite time of the day, for when the sunlight hit all of my creations, the room was thrown into a world of beautiful and soft colors that danced on every object in the room. It was certainly a blessing, compared to the steamy, smoky, robotic Kettle City districts. I had managed to get most of the materials to make everything from Uncle Kye's junk box. Uncle Kye always said that my room looked a wild mess, like the room of a savage alien, and that I should take it all down, but I never will. A girl's room is supposed to be her sanctuary, an escape from the rest of the house, and I would sooner be caught getting rid of RAM then to reduce my room to something like Uncle Kye's boring old room.

I made a special place for the rays of the sun's beam to hit exactly, with full intensity, so that it shone more brilliant than anything in the room- the golden-framed photo of my parents, Byron and Stephany Elmira.

I treasured that picture more than anything, even suffered through severe punishment for it. Uncle Kye had gotten a hold of a bar of gold that costed two year's worth of his mechanic money, and, after giving me a loud warning not to go near it, he caught me sneaking into his room and shaving off a chunk with his Intenso-Nyfe. But three months of staying in the house all day to do nothing but stare at my bedroom ceiling was worth it, to make as beautiful a frame as possible. Only such was worthy to capture the joy and liveliness to honor my parents' memories. I adored it more than anything. It was my most prized possession.

When I finished my breakfast, I got dressed quickly, dressing in a snug dark-green shirt and loose-fitting overalls, running a brush through my hair and jumping into my sneakers before dashing out the flat and to the staircase that let to the door of the garage.

Expertly I jumped up and sat-landed on the stair rail, whizzing all the way down and laughing all the way.

But, suddenly, the door opened, throwing me off. I gained so much momentum I flew straight through it. Luckily, I landed on a pile of leather that had been set out.

"FANGE ELMIRA!" A familiar angry voice yelled. "WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT SLIDING DOWN THOSE DAMN STAIR RAILS?!"

The angry figure of Uncle Kye towered over me, a tall man standing at five foot ten, and a bald head with an angry red face. Kye Elmira was my father's brother, and also the less successful. He worked as a mechanic, and owned his own mechanics shop (aka the garage) called "Elmira's E-Z Fix," which had miraculously been running for over fifteen years. He got just enough money to keep the shop up and running, keep the garage and the flat above it that we lived in, and keep us fed everyday, but many of our clients were middle-classers who needed a quick five-bronze piece tire replacement or friends who he occasionally gave discounts to. Once in a while a big job would come, but at most we got about 15,000 gold pieces a month, which put us in "lower-middle-class status." I worked along with him, earning a weekly allowance of two bronze pieces. Wasn't much, but it was enough.

I got up carefully from my sprawled position on the bundles of leather, and brushed myself off. "Not to slide on them?" I answered.

"YES! Wood isn't cheap, Fange, and d'you think I want to spend extra hours fixing the damn stair rail because you broke them?"

"No, Uncle." But you'd spend all after hours of the day making pointless gadgets to get you more money.

"Exactly!" Uncle Kye said. "You can't goof off all your life, Fange, it just doesn't work! Look where your parents ended up! Goofed off all their lives and now they don't have lives to goof off with!"

That hit a nerve. Uncle Kye walked off to his latest machine and began talking about its elements and repair. As usual I pulled on a pair of gloves and brought his toolbox over, brushing off one of his many insults about my parents. He had ever liked his brother or his wife, and decided to take it out on me and throw insults now that they were gone and I was the only reminder of them left.

"Now, we'll be working on this old hovercraft," Uncle Kye said, patting on the hood of the parked aero vehicle. "For about five gold pieces. One of your friends came by and said to completely redo it and make it look "cool" so I'll especially need your help with the paint job and such. Looks like his first vehicle that his dad got him as a hand-me-down. Sounds like something you'd be able handle since you're into that stuff, eh Fange? Those difficult teenage years..." he chuckled. "By the way, when are you going to change your hair back to its original color, it still looks ridiculous."

I ignored his comment. "Yeah, I could probably fix it up nice... depends on which friend you're talking about, though."

"Ahhh, now, what was his name?" Uncle Kye snapped his fingers as he racked his brain trying to think. "Uhh, Benton, Baxter-"

"Bastion?"

"Yes, that's it. The one you always hang about with. The blind one."

I rolled my eyes. "He's not blind, Uncle Kye. He can still see. Why do you think his parents trust him with a hovercraft?"

"Because they're as crazy as a rabbit that hops in a wolves' cave. Giving their son a hovercraft and he can't even see the damn road in front of him! Bad parenting I say. But, if there's five gold pieces involved, let's get to it..."

Why would a rabbit hop into a wolf's cave in the first place...? I sighed, and decided not to answer. Bastion wasn't blind. He was born with eyes sensitive to light, so he had to wear dark glasses. Any intense light would cause him a great deal of pain. Uncle Kye didn't seem to understand that, nor much anything else.

We got to work on Bastion's hovercraft. Uncle Kye had me work on the undercarriage while he worked on the rusted fender. As I unscrewed a covering to the craft's main wire carriages and leaked the old oil out so that it could be replaced with new fuel, I got very filthy and soon my clothes and face were oil-stained . But I didn't mind it. I never did. One of my most favorite activities was to get my hands dirty working with Uncle Kye in the garage. I had learned to make so many things from my parents and learned how to fix so much that my hands were always busy. It was the talent I was most proud of. One day I hoped that I could open my own shop where I could make and sell things I made, and repair damaged items. It always enlightened me to see the smile on people's faces when they got their vehicle, looking or running brand-new, thanks to my handiwork. I didn't bother to ask Uncle Kye about it though; he didn't approve of my idea. He thought it would be a waste of money and I would get nowhere making useless knickknacks. Like usual, I didn't listen to him. I was a skilled craftswoman, and not even my uncle was going to stomp that down.

I finished my work within an hour, and emerged looking like I had bathed in an oil slick. I went to go shower and clean up, and when I came back down, to my pleasant surprise, Uncle Kye was talking to Bastion. He turned when he saw me and smiled. He had his signature round, dark glasses on, messy and long sandy haired tied in a ponytail and freckles peppered along his cheeks and nose. He was tall and lanky, much like me, but was much stronger.

"Hey, Fange." He greeted me with his signature little wave. "You and Mr. Elmira are doing a great job on the craft so far."

"Thanks, Bas," I said, returning his smile. His voice was husky and had a feeling of ease to it that I had known for three years. Uncle Kye was off tinkering with one of his self-made machines, hardly paying attention to us.

"You're uncle seems busy..." Bastion said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He lent in towards me and whispered, "let's go freerunning."

I grinned, and turned to Uncle Kye. "Uncle Kye, I'm gonna go for a walk with Bastion, that alright?"

Uncle Kye grunted and gave a wave of his hand. "Just be back by dinnertime," he mumbled, screwing a bolt on some oddly disfigured robotic object. I went over to the garage door, took the handle, and opened it.

And like that, I got my first, and same, glimpse of Kettle City. The city constantly buzzed with energy, smoke coming from factories and steam from outdoor pipes, all drifting up to the usually yellow sky. It was yellow like that, no doubt from all the pollution the city gave off. Along the streets, people walked along in the in-style of Kettle City, beiges, whites, and browns almost everywhere you saw. Occasionally you saw the teenaged girls and boys of the Wrench District, walking around in a different range of colors. Almost everyone in the Wrench District was a mechanic, so mostly what one saw was a lot of beige overalls over white shirts. Cars and hovercrafts alike sped on the road, the hovercrafts whirring above the cars with puffs of white smoke coming out their exhaust pipes. The Wrench District, like its name suggested, was famous for having quick fix-it repair jobs. Many garages were open, tinkering around under the hoods of cars, underneath hovercrafts, or busy with robots and other contraptions, repairing the damaged mechanics of the upperclass. Beggers and metal-merchants also lined the streets, rattling cans to passers-by for a few spare pieces or shouting that their wares were the finest in the district to make a quick piece. The Wrench District, though probably the biggest pollutant district in Kettle City, was the most active and helpful, and the city would be nothing without it.

It was also perfect for freerunning.

I closed the garage door behind me, and Bastion and I started to walk casually down the sidewalk, away from my flat. If there was no other activity I loved, freerunning would be the most favorable. Often when Bastion and I got together, we would envision the whole of Kettle City as one big obstacle, and using great agility and speed built over years of practice, bruised knees and elbows, and a couple of broken bones here and there, we would leap, run, jump, and slide over and under everything that came in our way. It was like a race. It was great fun, but usually Bastion always ended up winning.

But this time, I was determined to beat him.

We stopped on the sidewalk and waited. The wait made our pulses quicken and our hearts quiver. We were excited, and our bodies were getting ready for another test of balance, agility, and grace. I could practically feel his excitement radiating from his body. We waited and waited, until he finally a low-flying hovercraft came whirring into view.

"Here's one." Bastion murmured as it got closer. I braced myself. The hovercraft was going at a rapid speed. We'd have one chance and had to time it perfectly.

"One..." I counted. "Two..."

"Three!"

We jumped as high as we could. It seemed to go all in slow motion. Bastion and I appeared to be suspended in the air as the hovercraft came whizzing by, and under us.

Our feet just landed on the back of it. I whooped joyfully.

The driver of the craft looked back, and his eyes widened when he saw us. "Hey-!" He exclaimed. We smiled and waved at him as we hopped off onto another craft.

We bounded from craft to craft, swung on horizontal sign poles, ran along the roofs of buildings and businesses, jumped from those roofs onto others, Pedestrians from below gave us disapproving looks as we ran and laughed like fools. We dodged traffic, we jumped over railings and fire hydrants, ran to the very outskirts of town. Of course, Bastion was in the lead, and when we ran all the way to our usual stopping point, a short-grass meadow on a far way away from the district, I had to catch my breath, and he ran all the way up. He whooped in joy, and looked back at me, freckles standing about because of his red face and bent over in exhaustion.

"Won again this time... Fange." He said in between breaths, grinning at me. I stuck my tongue out at him, and fell down on the cool grass. It felt so good to my overheating body. He crouched down and messed up my hair before sitting beside me.

"Nice to get away from the town, huh?" He asked. I agreed, turning around to lay on my back and look up at the sky, arms behind my head.

'Y'know something, Bas?" I asked.

"What?"

"I'm gonna get out of this place. I've lived in the Wrench for so long, I've forgotten what the rest of the world is like. I'm gonna travel. I'm gonna go to all the other districts and do something great. Be someone, y'know? I don't wanna be confined to just spend eternity in Wrench."

"You are someone, Fange." He replied.

"Not the someone you know, Bas." I sighed. "I want to be known for what I do. I want to open that shop I've been talking about!" I raised up to a sitting position, my eyes twinkling whenever I came upon this subject. "I mean, can't you just picture it? Fange's Fix n' Knicks! That'll be the name! Or, Fange's Gadgets and Gears! And people will swarm in, bringing in their vehicles one by one. I'll repair those rusty bumpers and shine them up brand-new, get their hovercrafts running smoother than icing on a cake! Formulate some sort of liquid carriage cleaner that can make a 1000-year-old hover scooter sound newer than a baby! And then, while I'm at it, I'll retreat to the back shop at night, where I make all the gadgets, have a little telephone by my side, see? And the telephone will go off all day, people demanding request for those beautiful little trinkets made by me! And I'll whip 'em up quick, knocking other trinket makers out of the business, have 'em shining like the sun! The whole city will know my name! I'll be raking in the gold pieces by the second! I'll be someone Bas! I'll make my way higher and higher until I'll be up in the Jewel District, and I'll never be bumped down to Wrench again!! Won't that be something, Bas?" By now I was jumping, and bringing up little pieces of grass that I constructed feverishly into little grass doves. "Won't that really be something?"

I looked over to Bastion, who I hadn't paid attention to my entire myriad of dream sequence. To my surprise, he was looking at the ground, something he did when he was thinking, angry, or sad.

"Of course, I'll need my best man by me, so you'll be coming along too!" I said, to see if this would trigger a response from him. It did, but not the one I was hoping for.

"What's so bad about Wrench, Fange?" He said, looking up at me with a deep frown.

"What do you mean what's so bad about it?" I said, bewildered. "Bas, we're just above the ones down at the Exhaust District. We're nearly poor! We're barely getting by as it is! And it's so boring here! It's the same thing every day! Same disgusting yellow skies, same beige uniforms, same people! Uncle Kye can barely stand me as it is! I remember back in Titanium things were a little more colorful! My parents had customers rolling in asking for their knick-knacks, and they would teach me a new skill every day! I was treated with respect! I mattered to people!"

"So you're saying that I'm a nobody, is that it?" Bastion stood up to look be square in the eye. "You think you're better than everyone here at Wrench just because you were born in raised in uppity Titanium?" His nostrils flared a little. I raised my defense up higher.

"I didn't say that, Bastion, I-"

"Then what are you trying to say, Fange?!" He said, his voice rising with emotion. "Do I not matter to you? Am I a nobody to you, because I live in Wrench? Because the last time I checked, you did matter to me. But I guess that isn't a two-way road, huh? I've lived in Wrench all my life, and even though no-one knows us, at least we're somebody to the people that actually care! I'm sorry if we middle-classers can't be the world for your apparent too-good higher class, but this is how it is! We didn't choose to be born here!"

"But I want out!" I half-yelled. "This isn't the life for me! I wasn't born here! I'm bored of this all! I hate it here!"

Bastion looked slightly hurt at this, but still kept his anger up so as not to show it. I knew him. He wouldn't show sadness if his life depended on it. "Sorry if I bored you then." He said coldly. "If you hate your life here so much, then I'll just leave since I'm just another boring middle-classer."

He turned around and began to walk away. Realizing my mistake, I reached out to grab his shoulder. "Bas, wait, I didn't mean-"

He turned around quickly. "No, it's okay. I know exactly what you mean. I know what all the other high-class people mean. You're just too good for us."

He turned again and walked away. He stared after him, watching the only friend I had walk out of my life.

I wanted to kick myself. Way to go Fange. You managed to screw up yet again.

I turned around and sat back down on the grass, feeling stupid and alone. Why did I always mess things up? I really needed to learn to think before I spoke. It felt as if I had reversed myself back to when I was first sent off to live with Uncle Kye, three years ago.

He told me right off the bat I wouldn't be going to school, because that would get in the way of my repairing duties. A young girl won't get anything out of going to school, he said. A brain filled up with all that knowledge is fine, but knowing how to use her hands will get her far in life. Strike "having friends" off the list. I didn't realize how much of a social handicap Uncle Kye had forced on me back then until now. When I met Bastion, it was like that handicap had been lifted. He didn't go to school either, but because he chose to. He wanted to help his parents, who were already struggling, with their little garage. I saw him freerunning one day and after that, I spoke to him, and he taught me. We were friends ever since.

But now, after a foolish slip of the tongue, I had ended that all. Huh. Crazy how something that was keeping me going could end in five seconds. I already missed him.

I laid down on the grass and closed my eyes. Napping is what always helped me in these kind of situations. It helped me escape, even though I knew that once I woke up, things would still be the same. Things were great while they lasted.

It seemed like I barely closed my eyes for three minutes when I woke up to a starry night. Heavily, I got up and retreated back to the flat, the same old flat with the same old angry Kye.

"Where the hell were you?!" He boomed as soon as I got through the door. "Dinner was done an hour ago!"

"Sorry." I said dully as I walked into the small kitchen. "Lost track of the time..."

"Lost track of time? Lost track of time? And how often to you lose track of the damn sky going dark?" He yelled. "Since you seem to lose track of time, I'll lose track of your allowance this week!"

"Fine!" I said, feeling irritated. Now was not the time to point out how screwed up I was. We both gave each other hard glares for a bit, building up tension in the kitchen that couldn't have been cut with an industrial Intenso-Nyfe. I went to go sit down at the tiny table, where Uncle Kye slammed down a plate of cold beef soup topped with stale rice and a third of a loaf of stale bread.

"You think you can just get away with whatever, don't you?" He continued. "Just like your damn parents, one day you'll end up just like them, dead because they thought they could do whatever the hell they damn well pleased, you'll see one day. With that ridiculous blue hair, pointless little inventions and authority defying attitude of yours, we need to get you out of that right quick! Bah! Disgraceful little brat..."

His voice trailed off as he left, and he slammed the door to his room behind him. At this point I was so angry I could have flipped the entire kitchen over, which wouldn't be that hard considering that it only consisted of a sink, a little table, a microwave, a fridge, and three cabinets. But as always, I held my peace, and instead got up to put my cold dinner in the microwave to make it somewhat edible.

I leant on the counter and sighed, hugging myself. I tried to come to grips with the fact that my life would stay like this for as long as I lived here. I wondered if I could make it past adolescence with Uncle Kye as the only other living person I talked to. While going through my depressing thoughts, bleeping and cracking sounds made their way into the kitchen, and RAM bumped gently into my leg.

"M-mistress-F-F-Fange-do-you-r-require-assistance-a-at-this-time?" He asked, putting his little flickering gaze on me. I chuckled and patted his head.

"Not at the moment, RAM, but thank you." I said. "You're good for the night."

"A-affirmative." the little robot said. "R-A-M-sh-shutting-doowwn..." The lights in RAM's eyes dimmed and went out as he went into sleep mode. I picked him up gently and put him in the little storage closet, with the door slightly ajar so he could get out the next morning.

After my dinner, I showered for the second time that day and crawled into bed. The only light in there was from my lamp, decorated as such so that when it was lit, it casted a multicolored cascade of light and threw star-shadows on the wall. I looked around my room, which was the only feast for the eyes I could have each day, and then turned to pick up the gold framed photograph of my parents.

They beamed happily in the photograph, my mom hugging my dad tightly as he held up a wrench in a victorious manner and smiled in that way of his at the camera, with all his teeth showing. Just seeing out happy the were made me smile despite my situation. And the familiar ache of longing pierced my stomach.

"I miss you so much..." I said quietly. "I hope wherever you are you save a place for me when I get there."

I kissed the photograph swiftly before putting it back on my bedside table and turning my lamp off. I watched my room as I did. I watched as the light left all the glimmering, colorful objects to the darkness, where they couldn't be seen, and the most that was seen came from the streetlight that managed to find its way into my window to strike a tiny, unnoticeable bit of the glass orbs hanging from the ceiling, so that random twinkles dotted the room here and there. I laid on my back and closed my eyes.

I won't be like those little stars... I'll grow to be the sun one of these days...