5. Mothers

Quinn left Harrison's shop disgruntled and unsatisfied. All he could think about was the mysterious object and what it meant in terms of change. What did it mean? Why was it there? Why did Don find it? It had to mean something. 

Every day he hoped one of the trash dumps would yield something valuable he could sell. Harrison, of course, would take his cut. With the world more dangerous than it had ever been, Quinn understood the importance of relationships. He needed Harrison and Harrison needed him. He tried for years but contrary to popular belief he was not omnipotent. Every time he went for a dig he would come back to a ransacked shop. A few times he even fought for his life against scavengers. Adults were like that, they would kill one another without hesitation, it was all so normal. On the other hand, children were held sacred. 

In Cinder City, the elders understood what it meant to be a child. Children were the future and should be respected as such. If anyone was caught hurting a child or worse, killing one, they would be exiled or face death. Envious of this law made Quinn became hard on Don. Turning fifteen just a few months ago, the burden of life became more and more real with each passing day for Quinn and it didn't help being the child of a single parent, either. 

"Quinn! Wait up!" Taylor shouted. 

Quinn stopped dead in his tracks and realized he had been speed walking again. He turned around and waited, giving them a moment to catch up. 

"Hey, man, what's your deal? You have been acting weird all day," said Taylor. 

"Tators right. Is it because I found the shiny glass and not you, Quinner?", asked Don. 

Quinn smiled and laughed at his reasoning. Kids were so simple, no matter the era. 

"Nah. I ain't mad. Just tired with a lot on my mind. No need to worry guys." 

Taylor squinted into Quinn's eyes as he said this. He caught her glaring and quickly looked away. 

"Anyways, let's get Don home before his parents start worrying. It's going to rain soon, you can taste the electricity in the air." 

Quinn was trying to change the subject. Don looked confused.

 "You can't taste electricity, it hurts! Remember when you told me to put my tongue on that battery, Quinner?" 

Quinn laughed again. 

"Yeah, I remember. Come on kid, let's get you home." 

Don put one hand in Quinn's and the other in Taylor's. Taylor let out a sigh and decided to put Quinn's peculiar behavior aside for the time being. 

"Fine." 

Together they walked down a dirt path past a row of abandoned houses into the center of town. The trio arrived at a worn down beige single family home. The doorbell had been disconnected and wires left exposed. All the windows were boarded up with plié wood and the vinyl siding needed to be replaced. The lawn was gone and replaced with reddish brown dirt like back in the Trash Pit. It looked like a home to ghouls and ghosts. Don let go of Quinn and Taylor's hands and ran to the door. He knocked three times in a specific rhythmic pattern and waited a few seconds. The door started to tremble from all the deadbolts being unlocked. Slowly, the door creaked open. Don put his hands behind his back, puffed his chest out and sported a huge grin. 

"Oh, it's just you Donald. Why are you home so late? Get inside. I'll give that crazy mechanic a piece of my mind when I see him. If it wasn't for the discount he offers me at the shop, you wouldn't set foot in that awful place." 

A stout little Asian woman about five feet, six inches stood in the doorway. Her hair was in a bun and she sported a brown men's shirt and pants accompanied by flower patterned apron. In one hand she held a rusted machete for cooking or security reasons, maybe both. Afterwards, she noticed Quinn and Taylor standing on the dirt path. 

"And you kids, don't your parents worry about you being out at dark?" 

She pointed the machete in their direction. 

"Quinn, who is watching your mother? And Taylor you know your father worries sick about you." 

She wagged it like an index finger. Quinn looked down as he was being scolded and noticed his pants were dusty again. 

"It's our fault, Mrs. Tien. We were running late today, lost track of time. Sorry, it won't happen again." 

Mrs. Tien was Don's mother. She had very little patience when it came to things but ten times the amount of love for kids. She always felt tough love was the answer to raising children. She knew her son didn't have much of a future in this city. She hoped someday he would grow up and experience the world, maybe even change it. She knew the chances were slim to none but as a parent she could only die happy knowing she gave him the chance. Don was only nine, curious, very naive and like Quinn and Taylor, a single child. Most of the children were sheltered by their parents. The reason being it was so difficult to have one. The lack of medical facilities made giving birth a near-death experience. The last thing any parent would want was their child leaving to work in pit filled with refuse. A heavyset Asian man about five foot eleven, sporting a white men's shirt and greens pants popped up from somewhere within the house. Don's father, Mr. Tien, was a war veteran but far from militant. His laid-back style caused him to be more of a friend to Don than a father. It was his idea that his son to go to work in the Pit at such a young age. He felt there wasn't much a boy could learn from being home all the time. 

"Hey! Donnie! How was work?! "Great, Dad! I found this really cool piece of glass today! They called it high tech!" 

"No way! Really?! That's so cool!" 

Suddenly he grabbed Don by the waist and hoisted him onto his broad shoulders. 

"Hey kids! How's it been?! Love the shorts and boots Tator!" 

The Tiens specialized in making clothes. During the war they owned a laundry mat and dry cleaning service back in the city. These days they purchased whatever fabrics and cloth they could find and made everything from hats to diapers and used them to barter for goods. 

"Quinn you're almost as tall as me. What are you? 5'9? 

"Close. Five eight, Mr. Tien." 

"Hey! What I tell you about calling me that? The names Henzo, you make me feel old when you call me by my last name." 

Mrs. Tien gave her a husband a nudge in the shoulder, Don teetered a bit. 

"Are you saying I'm old because I like when they address me politely Huh?!" 

She started waving the machete in the air, it was a habit when she spoke. 

"Ok. Calm down Sue, I didn't mean it like that honey. Watch the blade, please." 

"Hmf! That's what I thought! I think I look pretty young for fifty." "Sure you do, honey." 

Mr. Tien gave his a wife a peck on the cheek before retreating backwards into the house while pointing at his wife and making a swirling motion towards his head. Don had to duck a bit to prevent from hitting the doorframe. Quinn bit his lip as not to laugh. 

"Take care kids. See ya tomorrow." "See ya guys!", Don shouted. 

Mrs. Tien folded her arms and rested the machete on her forearm as she leaned against the doorframe.

"You guys hungry? I got some food." 

Quinn shook his head. 

"I m fine, I got some food at home I been meaning to eat it before it goes bad." 

"Yeah, my Dad gets mad when I don't eat his cooking, maybe next time Mrs. Tien." Taylor responded. 

Mrs. Tien shrugged her shoulders. 

"Ok, fine by me. Quinn make sure Taylor gets home safely, alright?" 

"Sure thing. I won't let anything happen to her." 

Quinn started to make his way back onto the center of the rode. Mrs. Tien smiled as she saw the couple off before going back inside and locking the door. It was rare for Quinn to say things like that. But whenever it happened this warm feeling would spread throughout Taylors chest. She smiled to herself and followed Quinn's lead.