Chapter 10: Mr. Shreve

Mr. Shreve was the last person Hana expected to be on the other side of her door when she opened it that morning. She let out a small gasp as she revealed her guest, to which he chuckled slightly to himself.

“Mr. Shreve? What are you doing here?”

He smiled and raised his eyebrows.

“You submitted a transfer request and asked me to pick it up?...” he responded in an amused tone.

“I did what? I thought it would be sent to you…”

“Well, it can be, but you assigned the pick-up directly to me, which means I got the request to pick it up. Didn’t mind though. I’ve got the next several days to myself.”

He was taking in the environment of the waiting space and garden as he spoke.

“Space looks good. Well done.”

Hana was still flustered and embarrassed.

“Thank you… I meant for the gift to go to you, not for you to pick it up.”

‘Damn you whiskey,’ Hana thought to herself.

“Gift?”

Hana sheepishly pointed at the ceramic jar on the nearby shelf.

“What’s this?” he asked as he picked it up.

“It’s tea. I made it for you. Or, I thought up a blend and mixed it with you in mind.”

His dark, narrow eyes met hers briefly. They were tired and hard to read, but Hana thought there was a hint of appreciation inside.

“That’s very kind Hana-sama. You didn’t have to.”

Hana felt herself blushing but wanted to stand her ground.

“Well, I wanted to make you tea, but you don’t come by, so I figured this was the best. So even if you don’t want to be around me, you can at least enjoy tea.”

Mr. Shreve paused and turned towards Hana.

“I don’t not want to be around you.”

“Then why don’t you come by? You send everyone over but yourself?”

“I wanted to support you, but I like keeping to myself.”

“Lunara said you were like that. I was afraid I’d done or said something…”

“Not at all. Some of us are just isolated creatures. I apologize if I gave off the wrong impression. I’m happy you’ve been able to serve everyone else in your - what are they called?”

“Ceremonies.”

It was awkward now. Hana bashfully looked around when she realized he wasn’t making eye contact anymore. Reflected sunlight from the outer bay windows shined through the roof line above them, illuminating his face in partial light. For the first time, Hana saw his features in decent clarity. He looked younger now than he had in the harsh neons, though he was certainly still quite weathered and at least a decade older than her. He had strong, harsh cheekbones, grey peppered in his beard and closely cropped hair, and full, defined lips that seemed to stay closed. She finally noticed he was tall enough so that her eyes only reached his neckline. He was, in fact, handsome in a tired, rugged way.

As though sensing Hana was focusing on him, Mr. Shreve knelt down and touched the grass with his bare hand.

“I kind of forget what grass feels like sometimes. I didn’t know you could get it to survive up here.”

“E’twobe is very good at her job. I was thinking of asking the outpost committee to create a greenspace in Sector One so that the residents and workers could at least get some form of nature.”

His fingertips gently ran through the greenery. Chips and dents lined his metallic knuckles just like the scars lined his face.

“You don’t want to make it so that people have to come here for the greenery? Isn’t that a draw of your shop?”

“‘This is a village, not a competition,’ as someone once said…” Hana responded with a smug grin.

Mr. Shreve laughed to himself.

“I guess you are right… That’s very kind of you.”

There was a crack and pop as he stood. Hana noticed he grimaced slightly and had to hoist himself up by placing his hand on his knee as he stood.

“You have had a hard life, haven’t you?”

He grinned.

“All of us did for a long time.”

They were close to one another. Closer than Hana realized. The dimensions of the garden waiting area suddenly felt very contained. Now, he wasn’t looking away from her, and Hana felt his intense gaze cause her heart rate to elevate.

“So, this is tea?” he asked as he opened the jar with casual curiosity.

“Hot water with stuff in it is tea. That’s the mix you add to the hot water.”

He put his nose close to the opened jar and inhaled.

“That’s very nice. Shall we have some? I don’t know if I’m ready for a ceremony but I’d be honored to share a cup of this with you, if I may.”

These curveballs made it so that Hana couldn’t seem to get her footing when talking with him. She was not at all ready for guests and was in fact still in sleep clothes. Serving tea in this state was a mortifying thought.

“I’m… I’m not ready.”

“I can wait. I’m not in a rush. Feel free to rinse or tidy or do whatever you need to. I can wait out here.”

Without thinking she responded.

“I won’t make you wait out here, you can wait inside.”

Now that meant he would be in the same space as her as she bathed and changed. Warmth drifted up her legs towards her hips as the thought of being undressed with him, or anyone for that matter nearby flashed in her mind.

Lunara’s words last night echoed in her mind.

‘It was nice in case you were wondering…’

She was now shaking her head without realizing it, which Mr. Shreve noticed.

“We don’t have to do it today if you’d prefer not to,” he said.

“No, we can do it today,” she blurted out.

Not the best wording. Now she was blushing and even more flustered. Accepting defeat for this conversation, Hana turned and motioned towards her front door.

“We can go in through here. You don’t have to use the nijiri-guchi since it’s not a ceremony.”

“Works for me,” he said, following her inside.

Being alone in her living space with Mr. Shreve felt different than being alone with the others who had come through, even the other men. Sol and Captain Bai had been alone with her in ceremony where she was fully in ceremony mode, almost in character. This was her as herself, with her hair still unruly and instead of a kimono she was in her sleep gown and loose pants. Without Hana seeing it, Mr. Shreve’s narrow eyes had stolen milliseconds and glances of her exposed back as they entered the space. Her shoulder blades were well defined and the subtle indention of the line down her spine caught the shadows of the room nicely as she walked. A few strands of hair hung loosely from the others and rested on her left shoulder. Mr. Shreve blinked then looked away towards the tea room’s decor.

“Your shop is very nice. I like the decor. It feels very comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Hana replied as she made her way to her stairs.

Silence sat between them for a brief flicker. Hana moved a chair from her dining space and into the common area near the tea room.

“Thank you,” he replied.

Water was dispersed into the kettle and heat was activated to begin the boiling process while she got ready. Hana couldn’t think of what to say, and she felt an awkward uncertainty rising from Mr. Shreve as well. Without a word, Hana made her way up the stairs. His metallic fingers fumbled along the ceramic jar as he sat alone.

Upstairs, Hana suddenly realized for the first time there was no privacy space leading into her shower enclosure. Night after night being alone she had undressed in her living space and stepped into the shower without a thought, but with Mr. Shreve down below, just out of eyesight, the idea of the entire process felt wildly enthralling and terrifying to her. Feeling her heartbeat accelerate and goosebumps rise across her body, she stood as close as possible to the shower and then began to remove her clothes.

As her nightgown slid off her arms and onto the floor, Hana felt the cold of the air greet her skin, hardening certain parts with a shield of goosebumps and causing a gentle tremor to shake through her small body. She activated the water system then inhaled and took off her sleep pants. Against her will, or so she thought, an image of Mr. Shreve’s lips parting as he spoke flashed in her mind as she felt the cloth slide down her ankles. Standing there undressed, Hana realized she was feeling something similar to desire for the first time in a very long time, and immediately jumped into the shower with a quiet shriek.

Downstairs, Mr. Shreve heard the water starting, and that coupled with the brief glances of Hana’s exposed upper back caused him to shift his hips slightly as he sat. He dared not stand at that moment, so he stayed in the chair and opened the jar once more to smell the tea blend. Its scent was soothing and potent, full of unfamiliar tones that he could not place. Colors of dried leaves mixed together to create a visual potpourri. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had gotten him a gift.

Moments later the water stopped and Hana’s brief shower was done. Both of them knew, without intentionally thinking about it, that the shower enclosure was too small to fully dry off or dress inside. So when the door opened, both of them were aware that Hana was naked and standing only a few meters away from Mr. Shreve. Metal panels and braces were all that were between them. The towel caressed her soft stomach and between her legs. He quietly cleared his throat. Fingertips drifted down the center of her chest. Seconds dripped by like morning dew on blades of grass on the mountainside. Down below, Mr. Shreve looked up towards the ceiling in Hana’s direction, and as though sensing it, Hana briefly imagined standing over him with his gaze looking up at her.

Lingering thoughts lasted seconds longer than Hana meant them to. Down below, Mr. Shreve shifted in his seat and there was a slight creak as the metal adjusted. It was enough to snap Hana out of her spiraling thoughts. Blinking was enough to reground Hana in the present moment but her skin was still tingling in excitement as she found some casual clothes to wear.

Mr. Shreve stood when she returned to the first floor. Seeing her in this light stirred something within him that he didn’t realize he was intently watching her approach. Water from the shower was still keeping her hair damp and naturally straight. Color was in her cheeks. A bead of water was running down her neck to her chest. Gone were the formal clothes and put-together hairstyles. Loose pants and a plain grey outpost sweater had replaced them, and in that moment, Mr. Shreve felt himself drawn to her more than before, but he banished those thoughts in an instant.

In an effort to reset the mood and her own thoughts, Hana made her way to the kitchen area where the water was now boiling and ready for use.

“Would you like to sit on the mats or at the table?” asked Hana.

“I would like to sit on the mats if that is okay. I don’t think I’ve actually ever sat on tatami mats,” he replied.

Hana was surprised by his answer and happy she asked, as she had originally planned to sit at her small table. Her hands moved in rhythm and grabbed the necessary setting pieces and utensils then placed everything on a small wooden tray. Making her way to the mats, she sat beside Mr. Shreve, who was earnestly trying to sit in seiza style.

“I’ve seen it before, but I’m not sure I’m sitting right,” he said humbly.

“You may sit however is most comfortable for you,” Hana replied as she cleaned the bowls and utensils.

Without intention, her voice had already started shifting into the tone of her ceremony persona, where she spoke in a slightly more husky, soft voice. She almost corrected herself but decided that some form of ceremony presentation was tolerable. Mr. Shreve eventually settled on sitting with his legs crossed in front of his body and leaned forward with curiosity as she worked.

“Do you clean everything before every serving?” he asked.

“Yes. Especially for ceremony. It is for cleanliness but also a symbol of purifying the guests for that moment. Washing away the world, even if only for an instant.”

Hana began scooping the tea blend from the jar into the two blue bowls she had selected.

“These bowls are very pretty. Their color is soothing to me,” he said in sincerity.

The remark was another unexpected moment for Hana, as she had projected that he would be more gruff and silent. Expressing his feelings and using words such as pretty was not something she expected of him, and she noted to herself that this was a lesson for her in making assumptions.

“I am glad they please you. I thought the vibrancy of the blue was a kind reflection of the temperament you present; strong, noticeable, mature, but with a hint of melancholy,” she said with slight hesitation.

Boiling water poured from the spout of the kettle into blue bowls and the floating bits of leaves swirled together, releasing color and scent. Hana gently stirred each bowl’s contents a few times before returning it to the wooden tray and presenting a bowl to Mr. Shreve. He bowed with gratitude and moved to pick up his bowl.

“Careful, it is hot,” Hana said.

“Will that hurt you, or affect your hands? Forgive me, I am not familiar with biotics.”

“It’s okay,” he said with a soft smile.

“They can handle about 1300 degrees celsius, and I’ve got the pain sensors active. Is it okay to blow on the tea or is that impolite?”

Once again, Hana was surprised by his earnest sincerity. He was not mocking her and was legitimately interested in the experience, which made his lack of attendance thus far all the more confusing.

“Blowing is not common. We stir to cool.”

Hana presented him with a small ceramic spoon.

“We use this.”

There was a subtle tinking noise as his metal fingers gently hoisted the ceramic spoon and began to slowly stir his tea on the wooden tray.

“Tea is meant to be taken slowly, even outside of ceremony. I’ve always felt it was meant to be something that forced us to pause, meditate, and reflect in the midst of the chaos of the world. All those centuries before us had it so much harder, but even now I think it is important to do so.”

“I can see that. Do you feel people would rather escape, through things like the alcohol next door, than reflect with the tea here?” he asked.

It was a brutal but fair question, and she sensed he meant no offense.

“In truth, it was something I have wrestled with since being here. On the Rocks is always crowded, where I might go a week without a single patron. I do not know if it is me, or Shinrin-Yoku as a concept.”

“I do not think it is you. You are very well-liked from what I have heard and seen.”

Hana blushed.

“Thank you.”

“I think a lot us- a lot of people- might still struggle with reflection, depending on how old they are. Times are very good now. Perhaps as good as humanity has ever seen. But it took decades of horror to get there. It is easier, maybe even better, to escape instead of reflecting.”

As he spoke, Hana noticed his demeanor shift, as though the ghosts of terrors not long past loomed just over his shoulders at all times.

“You were there for The Fall? Are you old enough to remember?”

“I was. It’s funny I am only a little older than your generation, but those few years made all the difference.”

“How old are you?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“Forty. Going on three-hundred it feels. You?”

“Twenty-eight.”

“So you were a Spring of Liberation baby. Born at The Change of all Things. By then the nations had been abolished and the wars were mostly over. When you were born I was still in the Texas annihilation.”

Hana had briefly heard stories of the war in the southern portion of the former United States, when Texas had seen a failed independence movement lead to an attack on neighboring states. The scars on his face and within his eyes suddenly made more sense.

“You were just a child though?”

“Younger than me did worse.”

“Forgive me, but is that where you lost your arms?”

“Oh, no. I was born with a birth defect due to my mother being malnourished. Bones developed wrong and stunted. The doctors cut them off as soon as I was born to save money. I didn’t get bionics till I was seven, so the first few years were hard.”

“We were starving poor at the time, so the attachment surgery was back-alley. I only got them so I could get put to work in a cobalt mine. Surgery went wrong, nerves were damaged, and the pain never went away. I needed the equivalent of horse tranquilizers to neutralize the pain, but it made me a shell of a human. So I just live with it.”

“You live in that level of pain every day? That’s what you meant when you told Sol you hurt every day?’

He laughed, which surprised her.

“Sorry, yeah I didn’t mean to blurt that out when I did. I’m not good at looking cool or scary, so it just sort of fell out of my mouth when he said that.”

Hana felt tears forming in her eyes. Brutality she could not fathom was only a few years removed from the time she was born, and she thanked the universe every morning she had never seen anything like what people like Mr. Shreve had experienced and was still experiencing.

“I am very sorry for bringing it up. Please forgive me,” Hana said with a deep bow.

“Oh no, please do not feel ashamed for asking. I am very grateful someone so close to my age has no memory of anything like this.”

Hana’s fingers drifted over one of the many small scars on her arm.

“I have memories of the impacts those horrors created.”

Mr. Shreve saw her fingers touching the scar. Hana watched as his eyes stayed on the scars he was just now noticing. She cleared a lump from her throat but spoke as a trade for the stories he had shared.

“The man my mother lived with when I was younger did not handle the terrors very well. Even in the years of peace afterwards, he found ways to project his nightmares onto me. Often through violence. Sometimes through other ways. Even in utopia, you can’t change the wickedness that resides in some people’s hearts.”

“No. No, you can’t. I am sorry.”

They were close now. For the briefest of moments, Hana felt connected to him, as though they were the only ones on the outpost, hurtling through an infinite void, alone together. Throughout it all, they had not stopped stirring. Mr. Shreve looked at his tea and lifted it to his lips for a slight sip. After a sip, he smiled and sat up.

“It’s very good! It’s hard to explain. It’s earthen but floral too,” he said in genuine excitement.

Hana had almost forgotten about her tea and took a sip herself.

“It is good. I’ve actually not had any yet until now. I’m glad it was not a disaster!”

They laughed together and continued to drink their tea. A feeling of sadness snuck over Hana.

“Do you think it will last? This utopia?” she asked.

“I hope so. For those who come after. We stood on the brink of extinction as a species and tore down every institution standing to get to this point. I watched the sky fall to the sea as buildings dropped like trees. Hundreds of millions gone in a couple of years. All because we wanted all to have some instead of some having all. If this utopia does not last, what is on the other side is likely our doom.”

Hana understood why he radiated melancholy now. There was a poetic resilience to him, but also a sensation of a husk in the place of what should be a person. They were leaning close now. Hana’s lips parted without intention. Mr. Shreve seemed to catch himself and sat upright. Hana regained her senses and took a sip of tea in embarrassment that she had let herself get to that point. She was not even aware how anything like a relationship, even just a physical one, would work on an outpost. What if she had misread him and he was only being polite? What if she’d gotten in trouble? Could she be banished from the colony? She cleared her mind and returned to the tea. Mr. Shreve spoke as a saving grace.

“This is very good. I feel it warming me inside and setting my body at ease. I can see how this has many benefits. I regret it took me so long to have some.”

Hana was touched.

“I am honored to serve you your first bowl,’ she said.

“The honor is mine, ma’am.”

The rest of the tea was drunk in silence. Millions of thoughts exploded through Hana’s mind, but the one that lingered the most was about how close she had been to his lips and how soft they seemed at that moment. And soon he was back at the doorway, putting on his shoes and bowing to her. Then he was gone. It was only noon and Hana was already exhausted for the day and full of thoughts. On the Rocks could not open soon enough, so Hana opened her communication terminal and messaged Lunara, E’twobe, and Katya.

“EMERGENCY! I NEED GIRL PERSPECTIVE!!!” was all Hana’s message said.

“Be there in ten” was the first response from Katya.

Minutes later, the four of them were sitting on Hana’s floor laughing and debriefing, trying in earnest to comprehend the mystery that was Mr. Shreve.