Becoming Calder (A Sign of Love Novel)(44)

"What's this?" Hector asked.
"It's an irrigation system, Father," I said. And then I explained the simplicity of how it worked. "With your approval, I'd like to build several more of these. I think we can cut down on the time it takes us to water the crops even further . . . maybe even plant a few more once we have the means to water them all."
Hector stood there looking at the system for a minute and then looked at me, his eyes moving to my arms.
"You hollowed out those branches yourself?"
I frowned down at the branches. "Yes, Father. I did it on my own time, after my work was done."
Hector stood silently for a minute. "What was your ultimate goal here?"
"My ultimate goal?" I cleared my throat. "Well, Father, I was hoping to be of use to the community at large of course, but also that you'd possibly consider me for a position on the council. There's been an empty spot since Father Nagle passed away, and I'd work hard for you. I'd be diligent and—"
"Oh, Water Bearer," Hector interrupted, and then pursed his lips. "Son, are you sure this doesn't have to do more with wanting to live up at the main lodge?" He raised his brows at me. "You should always be honest about your motivations if you're hoping to please the gods."
I regarded him for a minute, feeling as if I was about to walk into some kind of trap no matter what move I made.
"In all honesty, Father, my motivation is to offer my services to our family in a bigger way. I feel called to serve as more than a water bearer, not just for myself, but also for our community as a whole. I know it's not my place to determine who does what job here, all I can tell you is—"
"In the grand scheme of things, each and every job here is important. You play a role in keeping our family nourished. Do you think the God of War feels loftier than the God of Grain? He may be a mighty soldier, but without the God of Grain, he would starve, as would all his men. No job here is unimportant. I am the prophet, and you are a worker. The gods have made it that way and you must learn to accept and thrive in your role. If you're having trouble with that, I can give you some readings, and I ask that you start going to Temple every day."
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my rising anger and frustration. I felt my hopes crumbling all around me.
"And if I'm not able to accept what the gods have ordained, Father?"
Hector narrowed his eyes and looked at me for a long time. "Try harder. There are paths much rockier than the one I'm offering you. I'd hate to see you choose the wrong one." He looked back at my irrigation system and then back at me, regarding me with such derision I wanted to look away, but I held my ground, holding his eye contact. Something about it felt disrespectful, but it was almost as if I responded by instinct alone, one man to another. Finally, Hector was the one to look away, back to my system.
"It took a lot of strength to build this," he said, almost as if to himself. "But brute strength alone doesn't get you anywhere in the long run. In any great endeavor, mind power is your greatest tool. Planning, strategizing. For example, you can obviously lift stone and hollow out trees, but the problem is something like this isn't completely structurally sound, because no thought went into its construction."
I furrowed my brow, a current of anger buzzing steadily in my system. "With all due respect, Father, it's extremely structurally sound. I figured out the whole thing in my mind long before I started construction. We've been using it for months, even through several storms. It's been a big help to the laborers, not only for crops, but for other water needs as well." I was talking, but I felt as if my jaw wasn't moving and my words came out clipped.
He shook his head as if what I said was nothing more than a bald-faced lie and then he took one foot and kicked the section in front of him violently.
I startled, unable to comprehend for a few brief seconds exactly what he was doing.
"No," he said, shaking his head again. "Not structurally sound at all. Practically anything could bring it down." He kicked at it again and again, and several sections beyond the one that had taken the blow, came crashing to the ground. I was frozen, disbelieving. He was destroying everything I'd worked so hard for. On purpose.
"Father—" I started, stepping forward.
"See, son? When you build something from the ground up, you have to build it in such a way that no man can ruin it. It can't be flimsy and easy to destroy. Why, if that were the case, anyone could knock it over, take what was yours as if they had that right. When in fact, they should know that would be a disastrous thought and action on their part. Am I right?" His eyes bored into mine, making his point very clear.