Eduardo's Arc

Chapter 24 of 60

Eduardo carried the ledger home with two names inside it. He set it on the kitchen table and walked out to the road. He turned and looked at his own house the way a stranger would. The roof still sagged on one side. Two windows wore crossed boards where the glass had broken. Paint curled off the siding in long strips. A step near the porch tilted where the stone beneath it had shifted. He had put honest names in a book. The house said something else to every rider who passed. He drove into town and walked to the guidance chair. It sat under an open roof at the edge of the square, carved with moons and suns and a purple star at the back. People sat in it when they needed to think and could not think at home. Eduardo took off his cap. He lowered himself into the seat and rested his hands on the carved arms. He asked himself one plain question. What does a man do when his word is clean and his walls still lie for him. A shadow fell across his boots. Eduardo looked up. A tall man stood at the edge of the path with a wooden staff. A heart-shaped stone burned at its top like a slow flame. Colored stones ran down the front of his chest. A dragon tail rested behind him, still. Eduardo had heard travelers speak of the chakra man who walked the roads. He had never seen him this close. "You're sitting heavy," the man said. "My house looks like a wreck," Eduardo said. "I've been fixing what I am. Nobody riding past can see that." Aurelius watched him. His tail did not move. "Then the outside is the next honest thing." "I was going to paint last." "Paint first." "That's backwards." "It's what people see." Aurelius set the staff against the chair. "A clean face on a house buys you the year it takes to finish the rest. Do the boards. Do the glass. Do the color. Let the road read it before you ask the road to trust you." Eduardo turned the words over. He had been saving the front for reward. He had been treating the street like it owed him patience. "Thank you," he said. Aurelius lifted the staff. "Sit until you know the first cut," he said, and walked on. Eduardo stayed in the chair until his hands were steady. Then he drove to the feed store, drew against his next week's pay, and bought fresh boards, two panes of glass, nails, and a can of pale blue paint the color of his shirt. He worked until dark. He pried the crossed boards off both windows. He cut new siding for the worst gap. He set the first pane in its frame before the light failed. When he stepped back to the road, the house had one clean eye. Tomorrow he would give it another.