Fools and Tools

While Joe led them from one room to another, Lena took a moment to ponder the ethics of putting bones on display. It would feel very morbid to see a human skeleton, but she supposed it was okay for animals, especially if it was for educational purposes.

The next exhibit Joe showed them was that of a mummified human in a coffin of gold. Lena turned away, as to not look at the corpse. She couldn’t see all the bones, but that just made it worse.

There was a part of her that was curious about the exhibit, and what life a person would have to lead to end up here in death. But she knew if she asked any of these questions, she’d have to be around the dead guy longer.

“Are you alright?” Zan asked Lena’s back.

Lena hummed affirmatively. “I’m just gonna, uh, go over there.”

She wandered away from the others, and Joe followed shortly behind to make sure she didn’t get lost.

She stopped by a shallow, but large, glass display that covered the entire back wall of the room. Various rusty and worn items were affixed to the wall.

“This is a display of various ancient tools.” Joe said, lingering behind Lena with a watchful eye.

Lena’s eyes scanned over the case. They didn’t seem that ancient, considering she could recognise a large chunk of them.

Joe, sensing Lena’s interest, continued, “We’ve been able to identify the likely uses of most of these items, but a few remain unknown.”

He gestured to a section of the display, titled ‘Unknown Tools’, but they weren’t very unknown to Lena.

“That’s a washboard.” Lena said quietly and pointed to the first one that caught her eye.

“Pardon?”

“It’s a washboard.” She repeated louder.

He looked at her blankly and froze in place.

“It’s to clean clothes.” She elaborated. “You get the fabric wet and then rub it against the metal bits and it, uh, gets rid of the dirt.”

“I… I see.”

Lena fiddled with the ends of her hair. “Did you not have these in your, uh, section of the fringe?”

Joe took a moment to unfreeze himself, then shook his head.

“Oh.” Lena murmured softly, her sense of solidarity fading a tad.

“My clan would scavenge and use a lot of old technology, but it was still technology, not…” He gestured vaguely to all of the primitive tools.

Humming and nodding to show she had heard him, Lena said nothing else.

“Were you one of those, oh, what were they called…” Joe paused for a moment to find the word he was looking for. “A Natural, was it? The anti-technology folks.”

Lena blinked a few times, surprised he knew the word. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“I remember coming across a group of them years ago…” Joe recalled. “They chased us away with pitchforks.”

Lena’s mouth twisted into a small grin. “Sounds about right.”

But her smile very quickly dropped, as the feeling of déjà vu came back with a vengeance. She suddenly recalled a stormy night 7 odd years ago.

“When this happened, uh…” Lena took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Was it during a storm?”

“Yeah, how did you…?” Joe trailed off, looking to make eye contact with Lena, but she was looking at anything except him.

“It must’ve been my commune. Sorry about that.” She said shyly, then wandered along the display and feigned great interest in the rusting metal and decaying wood.

Joe followed closely behind her, not content to leave the conversation just yet.

“It’s a small world.” He mused.

Lena responded with a shrug, but Joe was unperturbed by her unenthusiasm.

“How did you realise it was my clan?” He asked.

“I’m not sure, I guess I just remember that night very vividly.” Lena gave into his attempts to talk, though still avoided eye contact. “The storm was really bad, and you had kids you wanted to shelter but no one would help you, just because of those noisy bikes you rode in on. My Father got so upset that he grabbed a stick and went out with the others to chase you all off… My Mother made sure I was watching the whole thing.”

Lena remembered the shame she felt as a child, watching all of this unravel and being unable to help those who clearly needed it. She remembered being unable to wrap head around why her commune refused to give them shelter; weren’t they supposed to be benevolent and forgiving? But, most of all, she remembered the scolding she received for even daring to think these things.

Unsurprisingly, it was this sequence of events that spurred Lena to question her faith, and her family.

“Shit.” Joe cursed, jolting Lena out of her sad stupor. “For what it’s worth, no one was hurt by staying out in the storm.”

The weight on Lena’s chest lightened a little. “Really?”

Joe nodded. “We were all a little soggy and miserable, but that’s it. It kinda ended up becoming a campfire story, something to chat and have a laugh about.”

The relief Lena felt was immeasurable, and it could be seen in her drooping shoulders and slight smile. It was a feeling Joe shared; glad he hadn’t ruined her day by bringing up bad memories.

There was still an awkward air in their small section of the room, and Joe decided to relieve this by digging around in his pockets and procuring a tiny notepad and a normal sized pen. He used his pen to point back over to the washboard.

“Would you mind telling me about the washboard again?” He asked Lena, who was finally looking at him again. “I want to write it down before I forget.”

She smiled and nodded, happy to be helpful.

For the next few minutes, she went through the various tools she recognised and explained their uses to Joe, who then scribbled the information down in his little notepad.

“Are you interested in joining the museum?” Joe asked between scribbles. “Your information could be invaluable.”

While Lena did like the idea of being invaluable, a little feeling nagged at the back of her mind and told her that this wasn’t her ‘Thing’.

“No, thank you.” She refused, shaking her head and nervously picking her nails. Hopefully, Joe wouldn’t take her rejection too badly.

“Ah, well. It was worth a try.” He said, completely unbothered.

Eventually, Zan and Exer had enough of looking at a corpse, and sidled over to Joe and Lena. The tour resumed and, much to Lena’s delight, consisted of a lot less bones.