The sound of the men outside working continues to give him some added distraction, albeit not very much. There’s only so much rock clearing you can watch at a time. Every once in awhile he can catch a snippet of what they’re saying, for the slaves are the former citizens of Saragon and thus, he can understand them.
From down below, he can hear one of the men sneeze. Such an occurrence has been common, what with all the dust being raised by the removal of the rubble.
“Gesundheit,” he hears another of the slaves reply.
He continues to reminisce about home when his mind turns to Meliana. Oh, Meliana. The way he felt when she had held his arm while he walked her home is still strong. How she swayed while they danced, her laugh when he said something whimsical. She’s been in his mind a lot lately, perhaps when he gets back to Cardri and all this Morcyth business is concluded, maybe he’ll find a way to return to Corillian and find her. See if there’s actually something between them.
Suddenly, his mind snaps back to the here and now. Gesundheit? Did he hear that correctly? A chill runs through him at the realization that that is not a word native to here. That’s a word from home! Since coming to this world he’s not once heard that particular expression.
Going to the window, he peers down and sees the same slave gang that he’s seen the last few days since they arrived. A dozen men of varying ages, from early teens to even one old grandfatherly looking individual, none of which immediately stand out as the one who spoke.
He continues to watch them and after a half hour, the scene repeats itself. Someone sneezes and the grandfatherly individual says “Gesundheit.” Excited, he keeps a close eye on the old guy. The other slaves near him help him out. He does less than everyone else due to his age, but the slaver must allow it for no recriminations are forthcoming from him.
Every once in awhile the old man sits down and takes a break while the others continue working. From what Miko had told him of his experiences with slavers, he was surprised the old guy is being allowed to rest. Guess different slavers work differently.
Waking up Jiron, he tells him what’s been happening and the significance of that old man saying the word he said.
“You think he’s from your world?” he asks incredulously.
“Yes,” he says with conviction. “I can’t think of any other reason he would say that.” When Jiron looks at him skeptically, he adds, “If I can be here, others can too.”
“True,” agrees Jiron. “But there’s still no reason why he has to be from your world. He could’ve picked that word up anywhere. Or it could even be a different word that just sounds similar.”
Shaking his head, James says, “No. He said it at just the right moment under just the right circumstances. Not once, but twice.”
Jiron gives him a silent look for a moment before saying, “Okay, then. What do you plan to do?”
“Help him,” he replies.
“How?” he asks. “If we take him with us, he’ll just slow us down and then we’ll all be either dead or on a slave gang.” Going to the window, he glances down to the old man below who’s still sitting on large piece of broken wall close to their building, wiping the sweat off his face with a rag. “Look! He can’t even keep up with clearing away small rocks and wood. There’s no way!”
“I know,” concedes James. “But I have to at least talk to him. I’ve got to know for sure.”
Jiron gives him another long look and then glances back down to the street. The old guy has once more joined his fellow slaves in removing the rubble. “Where he sat is near one of the windows on the bottom floor,” he says. “Maybe he’ll sit there again and you can whisper to him out the window.”
“Good idea!” agrees James excitedly.
“Just be very quiet,” he warns. “You don’t want to attract the notice of the slavers.”
“I know,” James assures him.
Moving back downstairs, they position themselves by the window near where the old man had rested. They occasionally glance outside to see if the old man will sit back down near them. A half hour later, he pulls out his rag and once more goes to sit on the large piece of wall not three feet from the window where James waits.
Once the old man has sat down, James whispers out to him, “Don’t make a sound. I’m in the building behind you.” He sees the old man’s shoulders stiffen a fraction as his words reach him. “Do you understand me?” he asks.
The old man nods his head as he wipes his face.
The slavers who’re overseeing this group are over by the main party of slaves and are pretty much ignoring the old guy. James asks, “Are you from around here?”
He rubs his face with his rag and then turns his head toward the window where James is and replies just loud enough to be heard, “Born here.”
That was definitely not the answer he was expecting. Glancing at Jiron, he sees him shrug. Turning back to the window, he whispers, “I heard you use the word ‘gesundheit’ when that other man sneezed.”
Nodding, the old man asks, “Do you know what it means?” There seemed to be a slight tremor in his voice when he asked the question.
“It means, health, or good health,” he replies, wondering why he would ask such a question.
The old man freezes for a second then again wipes his face with the rag. He sits there quietly for several minutes until James begins to think he might’ve forgotten about him.
“Why did you ask?” questions James.
The old man shakes his head as one of the slavers looks over in their direction. Getting up, the old man returns to help the other slaves in removing the rubble.
“What was that about?” asks Jiron when James moves away from the window.
“I don’t know,” he replies. “But when I told him what it meant, he reacted to it.” Sitting down against the wall under the window, he adds, “Something’s going on here.”
Jiron munches on some of his rations as he watches James mull over what happened. “I have to find out what.”
He waits by the window the rest of the morning and afternoon. Though the old man takes several rest breaks in that time, he doesn’t do it near their window. James catches him casting looks over toward the window from time to time as he works. Finally, when the sun is getting low in the sky, he comes and sits back down by the window and asks, “You here tomorrow?”
James whispers back, “Yes.”
The old man nods as the slavers holler for the slaves to gather together for the return to the slave compound. As the old man gets up off the piece of wall, he points to it and then points to a spot closer to the wall before going to join the others.
James watches as the old man shuffles along with the others back down the street. When they’ve moved out of sight, he turns to Jiron and says, “We need to move that section of wall closer to the window.”
“Why?” he asks.
“The old guy indicated we should,” he replies. “It may enable us to communicate better tomorrow. Less chance of being overheard.”
“No. I mean why bother talking to him?” Jiron corrects.
“When I told him what it meant, he seemed surprised that I knew,” he clarifies. “He also asked if I was to be here tomorrow. Why would he say that?”
“To tell the soldiers and have us arrested,” suggests Jiron.
Shaking his head, James says, “He could’ve done that any time today. No, he wants to tell me something.”
“You may be reading more into this than there is,” Jiron insists. “He could just be a lonely old man who wants to talk with someone who’s either not a slave or a slaver.”
“Maybe,” James skeptically admits. “Only one way to find out though. If he is just a lonely old guy, I’ll say no more about it.”
“Okay,” he agrees.
They wait until it gets dark and then make their way out onto the street to where the section of wall the old man had sat on lies. Struggling with all their strength, they’re able to move it over to where it almost touches the wall beneath the window. “That should be close enough,” Jiron says after the section of wall is in position. They use their feet to eradicate the marks on the ground they made when moving the slab of wall.