Name Day: ...
Vila: Hmm?
The sudden silence puzzles Vila. A question as simple as this should not render a talkative young man mute.
She tilts her head, trying to restart the topic.
Vila: Mr. Name Day?
Name Day: Oh, my apologies.
Name Day: I was only thinking, how I might best put it into words ...
Vila: Please, like I said before, don't worry over words.
Vila: I appreciate your concern, but I am not made of glass. I've put my trust in you, and this ... hesitance to speak, it makes me worry.
Name Day: Oh, Ms. Vila, I didn't mean at all to ...
Vila: Then tell me, Mr. Name Day. I will be needing an answer.
This young man stands slightly taller than her, so Vila slightly raises her head, hoping to catch his eyes.
Name Day flinches. Eyes running from her glance. The two things he has little way of managing—kids and the stare of an honest person.
Name Day: As you wish ...
Name Day: It seems you're picked up on our high turnover rate, but let me be clear. It is an attrition rate; we simply don't have enough manpower to escort you back to Rayashki safely.
Name Day: In fact, I might well be in the field too, if I hadn't been selected to host you and the children.
Vila: Attrition? What do you mean? Has something happened?
Name Day: Sorry, there's little I'm at liberty to say, but it isn't anything to worry about. Still, as you are concerned, I'll see if there are any field missions in the area.
Name Day: If we're lucky, my colleagues may be able to bring back some news.
Vila: That is a good start.
Vila: But then, what is going on in Rayashki, exactly?
Name Day: I admit, I don't know any more than you do. But if the radio is anything to go by, tourism in Rayashki is still in full swing. I heard administration was even considering adding it to our list for annual retreat destinations.
Name Day: So, it must not be so bad.
Vila: What about the mines? The port, is it still under construction? Has Zeno left us alone?
Name Day: Aha, well they ... didn't mention any of that on the radio.
Vila's blue eyes sparkle, reflecting a sea of thoughts and questions.
Vila: Hmm, so if we can't go back for now, is it still possible to write home?
Vila: Oh, how silly of me to not think of it! I will write home and ask their opinion about further cooperation between Rayashki and the Foundation.
Vila: Oh, I should get on this right away!
Vila has always been known for direct and bold action, and for very good reason.
Name Day: Madam ...
Vila: What?
Name Day: Aside from any questions of whether we can deliver anything, there's no need to rush. The kids are here, and I'd rather you not leave with just me to watch them.
Name Day: Not that I'm saying you can't go, but, I worry I won't be able to manage them alone.
Vila: Oh, of course. I forgot that you're short-handed now.
Vila: But is there really no one at all you can spare? Not even just to deliver some mail?
Name Day: Of course we have mail delivery. I'm just trying to say, you don't have to be in such a hurry. We can send your letters any time.
Name Day: So, why not enjoy the sun for now?
Vila: If you insist. It is a lovely day.
Vila: Fine then, if we have some more time, I should be able to think of some more questions.
After sending the children back to their temporary dormitory, Vila says goodbye to Name Day and returns to her room with a stack of blank paper.
She spreads out the papers on the desk, recalling all the questions in her mind from the afternoon.
Every word she writes is marked by a spark of warmth and a pang of her ever-growing homesickness.
Vila: "To Lazarev ..."
Vila: "Dear comrades,"
"No matter who is reading this, before you start, please find yourself a comfortable chair. Take my words seriously, not just a quick skim. Yes, even you, Knut."
"Because what I'm about to tell you is of utmost importance to all of us."
Vila: Mr. Name Day, please give these letters to ...
"Now, before I get to the topic, I must first apologize for losing contact. I hope most sincerely that by the time you get this letter, we will already be on our way home."
Vila: These are today's letters! Please make sure they arrive ...
"There are too many questions, and I'm not so good at prioritizing, but I've heard others say here that one must 'go with the flow' ..."
"Our cooperation with the Foundation has encountered some manner of force majeure and has been paused temporarily. This letter aims at gaining more details from you, our frontline workers."
"Forgive me if I ask too many questions, but they involve every aspect of our livelihoods and Rayashki's survival, including many I should have asked much earlier."
Vila: Here you are! These are a few more letters, thank you.
"What's the progress on the repairs for the pier and dockyard? Have we established any diplomatic relations with neighboring cities? Has the rebuilding and maintenance of the houses been finished according to schedule?"
"As autumn is near, have we prepared enough waterproof materials to keep the roofs in good order, and do we have enough fuel to keep things heated in the winter?"
"I would suspect, and hope, that as we ramp up our coal production, none of these will be a problem."
"..."
"Looking forward to your reply. Warm regards, your most loyal friend, Vila."
Vila: Phew. Alright. With that today's letters are done.
Vila folds each one and slips them into their envelopes. As she reaches for the last one, she realizes, she has used every last page from the stack.
She stares, half-shocked, at the mound of thick envelopes before her.
Vila: I didn't realize I had so much to say.
Name Day: I'm afraid I'll have to cut down the pine tree in the garden for more paper if you keep writing this way.
Name Day: Are those letters to Ms. Windsong finished? I see you've already signed them, so I would suspect they are, yes?
Vila: Actually, not yet. I'm not sure if she'd like to return to Rayashki.
Vila: And I worry it might be too forward to ask her directly. I'm still choosing my words.
Name Day: Windsong is that Ley Lines researcher, right? I heard her presentation in HQ was a success.
Name Day: If so, maybe you might start by giving your congratulations, then you might ask her how she's doing these days, or something like that.
His suggestions provoke no reaction from Vila, as Name Day gradually softens his voice.
Name Day: Sorry, I don't write so very often. Maybe my suggestion isn't helpful, maybe this is useless advice, or maybe I'm like a blind squirrel.
Name Day: Anyway, feel free to forget I said anything.
Vila: No, no, actually, that was a good suggestion.
Vila: The blind squirrel found the nut, Mr. Name Day. That was very helpful indeed.
Vila: If you don't mind, please, I'll finish these, and you can send them all together.
Name Day: Take your time. I'll be sitting here waiting, killing time. Maybe I'll do some carvings with my knife.
Name Day: Killing time ...
Name Day: sigh
Name Day: I don't know why I'm doing this.
The mountain of letters in front of him has grown to a daunting size.
Name Day: At least there's one letter I can send.
Name Day: Haha ...
The rest are not so lucky. There is no one to receive them, not even to mark "return to sender." All those words without anyone to read them.
Questions that will never be answered.
Name Day: ...
A powerless, futile anxiety burns inside him.
Finally, he takes the letter from the top of the mountain and leaves with a tender sigh.
A letter to an old friend.
"To: Windsong"