I sat down today and finished writing the first chapter of my Choose your Own Adventure-style book, Paths of Zarahemla.
PART I
Chapter 1
The swell of
voices sounds around you as you walk down one of the paths of Zarahemla. You
let the syncopated noises wash over you as you take another bite of your mango
you’re eating for lunch. Man, you enjoy Zarahemla in the spring. The shouts of
street vendors, calls of craftsmen, and prophesying of priests all hold sweet
memories for you, and listening to the chatter of the passersby brings a smile
to your face. Zarahemla, your home.
You finish up
your mango as you pass over a small bridge going over one of the waterways in
the city. You toss the mango pit into the water, careful to avoid hitting of
the assorted fowl that are floating and swimming in the water. You wave to a
fisherman on its banks, and continue across, making way for a young couple holding
hands and traveling in the other direction. An invisible cloud of fancy flower
perfume and fragrance floats around them, and you inhale deeply the rich,
colorful scents.
As you continue
down the path, you place your hand on the wall of an adjacent building, and
feel the texture of the stone rush under your fingers. It was hard to imagine
that this city wasn’t even originally Nephite. It was a Mulekite city, founded
and built by one of Zedekiah's sons long long ago. It wasn't until much later
that King Mosiah and some of his followers journeyed northward and discovered
them. Since that time, the two large groups of people had nearly become one.
You pass under a
low hanging ledge and enter the city proper. You notice lines of workers
waiting in lines for their employers to pay them for the last three days work.
"One senum," a boss says, dropping four shiblom coins into the
outstretched hand of a worker. The worker happily takes it and moves off.
"Next!" the boss says, and another worker steps up.
As you pass on by, you can't help but overhear
some of the workers in line mumble. "Only two senums a week," one
says. "I hear that there are some judges and lawyers that get one
senum a day!" You can't help but silently agree with him. One
of your uncles is a lower judge for southern Zarahemla, and you're pretty sure
he makes around that much.
You pass under some trees and wonder what time
it was exactly. You are on your way to meet one of your closest friends,
Joseph. He told you yesterday that he has something very important to tell you,
something that he just discovered from one of his friends, something that could
change everything. But, of course, it was top secret, and not safe to talk
about there, so he invited you to meet today at the start of the fourth hour.
You don’t want to be late.
A few streets down, you turn right and the main
fish market comes into view. The scents of freshly caught raw fish wafts into
your nose. Also, apparently, the smell of cooked fish. That was new.
"That's right, my fellow Nephites and
Mulekites!" a voice booms from one of the packed stalls. "I present
to you already cooked fish! Now you no longer have to cook them yourself! My
sons and I do all the fishing and cooking for you!" Next to him two of what
you assume to be his sons were in the process of cooking and wrapping up fish
with large leaves.
Curious, you approach the booth, and hear
several others chatting around it. "Pre-cooked fish? What a strange
idea." "Has to cost a lot more, I would think." "Do they
use spices while cooking it?"
"How much do they cost?" a larger man
yelled. You look over at him. He stood about five and a half feet, has a big
brown beard, and is wearing an odd purple headband. While most headbands men
wore around Zarahemla were more for practicality, this one seems more
decorative, with several knots in it with cloth of different colors.
The man in the booth smiles at the larger man
over the large crowd. "Very inexpensive. In fact, you can buy a whole
dozen fish for only one leah!"
The crowd burst into outrage. "A leah? For
twelve fish! Forget it!" "That's half my day's wages!" "I
can cook my own at home!"
While the clatter became louder, you notice a
tall thin man run up to the crowd. He too was wearing a purple headband, but
couldn't seem to be able to find his way through the crowd. He kept trying to
but was always pushed back. Eventually he raised his voice to say something.
"Excuse me, oh master of the fish," he shouted over the crowd, which quieted
down a bit for him, "But when are you going for your next kill of fish? In
a few minutes, perhaps?" The man scratched the right side of his face as
he spoke.
"Er, no, we go fishing in the
mornings," the merchant said.
The larger man from earlier looked back at the
tall thin one. "And where will you be catching these fish?" he asked,
scratching his beard. "Far from here or near?"
"I usually go fishing near Hermounts and Bethlehem
myself," the tall one said, then turned and started walking away.
The merchant stood scratching his head. "We
go fishing on the Riplah river, same as most of these merchants here," he
continued. "But how many other merchants here also prepare your food
before you even buy it? Think of how much time you could save! No more
de-boning or gutting! They're all ready to eat!"
As the crowd continued to listen and some began
to be more interested, you continue on your way past the outdoor vendors. That
little detour cost some time, and you don't want to be late with meeting with
Joseph.
Past the fish district was a large open area,
where city law stated that no building could be built within two hundred cubits
of the center. Instead, the space was dedicated to nature. You walk past large
beds of soil where different beautiful flowers grow, and you inhale their
delicious scents. A few men and women also walk through the area, either
stopping and enjoying the sight or else hurriedly walking to whatever their
next destination was. You pick up your pace slightly. Whatever Joseph wanted to
talk about, it seemed important.
When he talked to you at school yesterday, he
had mentioned that he and some other of his friends had stumbled across a great
secret. Some sort of conspiracy. You aren't one to readily jump on board with wild
theories, but he seemed genuine. If what he said was true, then there was
something sinister going on behind the scenes of normal life. He couldn't tell
you more, but invited you to meet with him and some others to discuss it more
fully. The location you were meeting at was underneath a large tree near one of
the city gates. You judge that by the pace you were walking it should only take
you another five minutes or so.
A few minutes later, however, you hear a large
shout. You nearly jump out of your sandals. What on earth--? you
think, as you turn around. The few scattered people who were also
milling and walking around on the streets also looked over toward the cry, and
several start in that direction.
The yelling becomes louder, and you notice a
small little crowd begin to grow just past one of the far buildings. Some
members of the crowd were yelling and waving their hands. This was new. You
can't remember when something like this had happened before.
You pause. You greatly desire to check out the
commotion, but at the same time you need to continue to Joseph or else the
chance to be in on whatever he has going on would be lost. You stand there,
caught between two choices. What should you do?
If you decide to check out the commotion, turn to page 5.
If you decide to continue on to your friend to see what he has to
say, continue to page 9.
