MapleSAP Special:
Justice Arrow part 4: Work Day

The next morning, our lew life in Henesys begins. Before dawn we are roused from our sleep and
taken out to the fields and put to work extracting pumpkins in the eastern fields. Two large fields are used to grow massive pumpkins, watermelons, beets, zuchinnis, amongst a wide variety of food crops.
Nearly 40 fields are used to grow crops and raise livestock in Henesys. Much of which wil be either stored
for the winter or exported to Justice Arrow-friendly clients around the country.
We work long hours each day extracting giant massive pumpkins and loading them onto wagons and trucks. for this task, we were spit up and assigned each to groups called crop squads. It is their responsibility to maintain the crops from planting to harvesting; and to maintain the fields year round.
We work from 6 in the morning until 9 at night hauling crops. The labor is a strain on our bodies and the day’s work leaves us completely drained.
As for the crops, they are taken to processing facilities to be cleaned, inspected and divided up to be used,
stored, or for export. Fruits that fail inspection are destroyed and made into fertilizer for next year.

We spent the first two weeks sleeping in the prison barracks and treated as slaves by the J.A. and our supervisors. Under this status, it is forbidden to speak unless reporting on work. Those who have talked met harsh and painful discipline: a rough beating on the spot.
We had little to no oppertunity to conduct our own work the first two weeks here.
On Friday of the second week, we worked for 15 days straight, with hardly any rest. Hank and Rannbo are weary to the bone, Maria pretty much worn out to the point of tears, and I, myself can hardly exert myself to do anything but sleep after work.
On Friday of the second week, we are almost finished clearing Field C18, the last of the pumpkin fields. The weather is chilly out, with thin clouds coating the sky, making it look white. We are working with a much better-off group of farmers hauling pumpins when our field supervisor accompanied by a J.A. ranger paid us a visit. They inform me that the Justice Arrow officers who dealt with us and our bosses are satisfied with our work ethic, and that we will be taken to assigned homes at the end of the day. Rannbo and I thank our boss, Chester, and Ranger Adams for the reward.
The rest of the boys in our crew are shouted at by the ranger and they frantically resume work.

At the end of the day, this time 4 in the afternoon, we hike to the edge of the field along with other crews of farmers and board the truck into town. Maria, today covered in dirt and mud (She had to crawl into a cluster of pumpkins and sever the stalks from the stems), smiles because today we dont have to work until 9 and be dragged backed to the detainment barracks with the rest of the ‘punished fellows’ as the locals call them.
Other workers, who we have joined status with– as local Henesys workers and now residents, are in more of a chipper and positive mood, happy that the week’s work is ended. The majority of them are young men and women between the ages of 12 and 30 serving their mandatory community hours, others are standard farmers working for a living.
The drivers write our names on a list before we are allowed to climb aboard the huge mana powered truck. It gets cramped in here and we have to hold onto overhead railings to keep our balance. There is no canopy overhead, so air is not a problem. They are used to this and standing for the 20-30 minute ride back home is not a problem. The people around us chat with eachother, but Hank, Rannbo, and I end up ignored, still regarded as punished foreigners serving out a sentence. On the other hand, a group of young women drag Maria into their conversation:
Maria was standing, leaning against the side of the cabin, her hands clenching tightly on the wooden fence as the truck speeds down the gravel road.
“My god, you’re filthy! The field dirt is dry this week, how do you still manage to cover yourself up in mud?” the blonde haired lass asked Maria in surprise. Maria at first was about to retort, but restrained herself and proceeded to explain herself, “I had to climb into a cluster of pumpkins and cut the stalks so we could get them out. It’s all mud around the big pumpkins. The land is pretty much soaked up from all the rain,”
The lass and her friends laugh in a non-hostile manner. Even I cracked up- Maria was completely coated in dirt from head to toe, including her face.
“As I was climbing out, I slipped and fell face first,”
“Oh, you poor thing! Make sure you wash up well before you go home!” That means the river, and in late October, the river waters are just above freezing.
“Never mind that, Jenna! I’ll take her home and get her cleaned up!”
Maria knows better than to challenge these girls. They were taller than her and apparently stronger. The tall red-haired girl was with our crew, and I saw her hauling pumpkins bigger than her.

The sun is about to set behind the Henesys Mountains when we enter the town. Fire lamps are lit up, and crystals are turned on to light the streets. The buildings of Henesys almost all look identical. They are of Tudor fashion- white with brown stripes, but all buildings on every block are joined as one, with stairs, balconies and catwalks on every level, making access down to the street quick and easy. Again we see people and families lining the streets and catwalks waiting for people to return home from work. Groups of men from secondary professions as smithing, tailoring,
herbalism, schooling, etc are scattered about, talking to one another.
Everyone we see are dressed as if it is really the late 19th century. Busniness suits are of current style.
The truck moves slowly, stopping every ten blocks so that people can climb out.
“Ross, Hank, Rannbo, and Maria, stay onboard!” the driver shouts through the back window of the wooden cabin. The men and women climb out. “Maria! You’re coming with me! come down here!” The red-haired woman calls to us.
“I can’t—the driver said!” Maria calls back in a panic. The woman talks with the man in the passenger seat, and he confers with the driver. “Do what the lass says, child!” he snaps. Obediently, Maria slowly climbs over the rails and jumps to the ground, falling into the woman’s arms. she takes her by the hand and leads her away quickly.

The golden sunlight reflecting off of West Nath Mountain to the south east casts a beautiful twilight on the town. Soon, we are the last ones onboard. The truck arrives in front of the J.A’s community policing office where a group of people wait. After we are off, and the truck is gone, Ranger Adams introduces us to our assigned families- strict right-wing highly moral people.
“Ross, this is Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood. They have decided to take you on as a servant, now show your thanks!”
I do so, by bowing as inferiors are supposed to to. “Thank you, sir and ma’am.” The same goes for Hank and Rannbo.
“These boys are visitors from Kerning City and will be in Henesys for the time being,” Adams says. “They wanted to write an article on this town, and they must pay to live here long enough to gather the view of this fine society.”
The men and women nod, and lead us off.

The Greenwood home is an apartment unit on the third floor of the building on Farmers’ Road, the major road crossing the town from north to south, and one the trucks use as access to the fields and back. It is basic and simple like the Windfeathers’ residence, and like the Windfeathers, a small group of young servants do all the chores here, and assist with the cooking.
The minute we come in, we are ordered to wash up in the bath house a few blocks away. Unlike the ordinary Azn style bath house, everyone bathes in a separate room of their own for 100 mesos. Hot water goes to highest person in priority- J.A. members, then citizens, then slaves and punished fellows. The lower ranks have to use cool to cold water, but they are used to it. On my way in, I saw Maria being escorted out by the woman wearing the same clothes as the Henesians instead of her jeans and sweatshirt, which she throws into a waste basket.
“…I can clean those!” Maria objected. “Oh, piddle off, child!” the woman said in her Scottish accent. “Despicable fashion encourages many of the ills plaging you! It’s not proper here! No doubt you will be slapped stupid by everyone! In fact, all the things you brought home must be burned!”
“Why?” Maria protested. “Can’t I just stash my bag somewhere till its time for me to leave?”
The woman looked at her for a moment, and pulls her close. “Leave? Where the skaiving jits do you think you will go? Back to that filthy city!?”
“I-“
“Cut the poppycock! You’d be a sinner to go back! How long have you been here, Maria?”
“Two weeks…” Maria muttered.
“And you were working as a punished fellow?”
“Yeah…”
“Well listen to me, you. No doubt you deserved what you got, and now it is over! This is your home now, and you have yet to see and learn the great things here, you’ll see. We do not tolerate when people think they can just get up and walk away because of the hard work! In your city, you no doubt came up an insolent spoiled brat, too lazy to work, and now, the Migrator has issued the discipline you need to clean out your mind and soul of the corruption within!”
Maria couldn’t reply back. She was almost to tears.
“And don’t you dare mention something like that again!” the woman said, squeezing a pressure point on Maria’s neck. “Owww!”
“Come off it! I didn’t even press that hard!”
“Yes you did-“
“Hush up! We’ve got to get home and help Alice with the dinner, and you better maintain your best conduct in front of her, understand?”
“Yes, ma’am” Maria said silently and they walked out.

After dinner was done, and the dishes, pots and pans were cleaned and drying on the rack, I talked with the Greenwoods in their sitting room. The servants, kids from other families carrying out their annual 1000 hours of community work, sat silent as ordered. They hammered questions at me mostly of our journalism work in Henesys, and I had to explain myself three different ways to convince them that our team would beat KLON in producing an article promoting Henesys.

After that it was swiftly to bed; The Greenwoods slept in their separate rooms, but the kids and I slept in the attic.
Aftet two weeks of strenious labor, things actually begin. It comes to my mind if Maria or Rannbo, the youngest
members of my team will actually be able to mentally withstand the cultural changes and way of life here.
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In the next issue of this series; Ross Kent’s team are put to work as the towns people begin preparations for
the upcoming Thanksgiving festival and homecoming to welcome the arrival of the J.A’s top troops.
How will they be able to work under the pressures of life in Henny under the scrutiny of the J.A.?
Will they be able to scoop up any dirt before the Bow Masters arrive? Find out next week!