Messenger

"The knot must be tied precisely."

Old fingers calloused on their tips emphasized the motion with a tug on a thin rope. They moved deftly and slowly so he could see. Pulling up and dropping down in smooth curves until they were done.

"Do you see? "

I didn't see. Not really, but It wasn't a task that required much attention so I nodded and said, "Got it."

"Yes?" The thick accent said.

"Ok , show me. "

A new package was placed on the desk. Small and square, its contents hidden within a small box wrapped with brown paper. A rope was dropped on top.

I carefully tried for the hand motions I recalled. My fingers weren't as deft and they were far slower, but the knot was tied.

I looked up at the old man, unable to gauge any emotion from his blank face expression and the shades covering his eyes.

He looked it over for a while, picking it up and turning it over a few times before giving a short nod.

"Passable. "

As I thought.

"Alright. " The old man began. " For now, you pass. For now." He said stretching out the last now.

Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

He reached within his dark leather apron and his aged hand came out with a small tube of rolled up paper. He unraveled it and two tiny stones were put on the corners to keep it in place.

"Come, boy. " He said beaconing me with a hand gesture and pointing at the intricately drawn lines. "We're here, " he pointed at a small dot, " This package, needs to go here." He said pointing at another dot on the far side of the city.

"This first trip, ya won't be taking my map. Don't trust ya enough for that. So best memorize this now ya understand. "

I did understand. I took in the lines of the map like a fish does water. The paper falling away and the lines lifting slightly off the desk. The turns, the hidden alley shortcuts, the potent smell of the city, the sounds.

It was all so real I could see it with my eyes open.

'SNAP'

I jumped a little.

"Bahhhh. You're doing it again. Ya better not be defective boy."

The city fell away and I blinked twice.

"I got it. " I said sharply.

I looked up at the grizzled old man.

"Should I leave now ? "

He measured me. I could tell because he had done so often since I arrived. Then he nodded.

"Last step. When you take this package, you get this stamped." He pulled out a small slip of paper. It was the length of a bookmark just about, one of those rare commodities reserved for the rich and powerful.

'if they don't stamp they don't get the package, ya understand. No matter what. " He said the last bit like he was growling, an edge upon his voice.

"Got it."

I was dressed then, in a small satchel, made of old brown leather that had obviously seen better days, but had a quality of stringy toughness about its strap I kind of liked.

In the large pouch a package went. In the small, the slip.

The bell of the shop rung as I opened the wide door to leave.

"Are you packing boy. " I heard, my foot between the door.

I patted my pocket and looked back at the old Man,

"Of Course sir. "

Then I was off.