Chapter 10
The sandstorm raged through the streets of Mos Espa in a blinding, choking whirlwind that tore at clothes and exposed skin with relentless force. Anakin held Padme's hand so as not to lose her, the farmer, the amphibious creature, and the R2 unit trailing behind, fighting to reach his home in the city's slave quarters while there was still time. Other residents and visitors struggled past, engaged in a similar pursuit, heads lowered, faces covered, bodies bent over as if weighted by age. Somewhere in the distance, an eopie bawled in fright. The light turned an odd yellowish gray, obscured by sand and grit, and the buildings of the city disappeared in a deep, impenetrable haze.
Even as he fought his way through the storm, Anakin's thoughts were directed elsewhere. He was thinking of Padme, of having the chance to take her home to meet his mother, of being able to show her his projects, of holding her hand some more. It sent a flush through him that was both warm and kind of scary. It made him feel good about himself. He was thinking of the farmer, too- if that's what he was, which Anakin was pretty sure he wasn't. He carried a lightsaber, and only Jedi carried lightsabers. It was almost too much to hope for, that a real Jedi might be going to his home, to visit him. But Anakin's instincts told him he was not mistaken, and that something mysterious and exciting had brought this little group to him.
He was thinking, finally, of his dreams and his hopes for himself and his mother, thinking that maybe something wonderful would come out of this unexpected encounter, something that would change his life forever.
They reached the slave quarters, a jumbled collection ofhovels stacked one on top of the other so that they, resembled anthills, each complex linked by common walls and switchback' stairways, the plaza fronting them almost empty as the sandstorm chased everyone under cover. Anakin led his charges through the gritty gloom to his front door and pushed his way inside.
'Mom! Mom! I'm home!' he called excitedly. Adobe walls, whitewashed and scrubbed, glimmered softly in a mix of storm-clouded sunlight admitted through small, arched windows and a diffuse electric glow from ceiling fixtures. They stood in the main room, a smallish space dominated by a table and chairs. A kitchen occupied one wall and a work space another. Openings led to smaller nooks and sleeping rooms. Outside, the wind howled past the doors and windows, shaving a fresh layer of skin from the exterior of the walls.
Jar Jar Binks looked around with a mix of curiosity and relief. 'Tis cozy,' he murmured.
Anakin's mother entered from a work area off to one side, brushing her hands on her dress. She was a woman offorty, her long brown hair tied back from her worn face, her clothing rough and simple. She had been pretty once, and Anakin would say she was pretty still, but time and the demands of her life were catching up with her. Her smile was warm and youthful as she greeted her son, but it faded quickly as she caught sight of the people behind him.
'Oh, my!' she exclaimed softly, glancing uncertainly from face to face. 'Annie, what's this?'
Anakin beamed. 'These are my friends, Mom.' He smiled at Padme. 'This is Padme Naberrie. And this is-' He stopped. 'Gee, I guess I don't know any of your names,' he admitted.
Qui-Gon stepped forward. 'I'm Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is Jar Jar Binks.' He indicated the Gungan, who made a sort of fluttering gesture with his hands.
The R2 unit made a small beep.
'And our droid, Artoo - Detoo,' Padme finished.
'I'm building a droid,' Anakin announced quickly, anxious to show Padme his project. 'You wanna see?'
'Anakin!' His mother's voice stopped him in his tracks. Resolve tightened her features. 'Anakin, why are they here?'
He looked at her, confused. 'There's a sandstorm, Mom. Listen.'
She glanced at the door, then out the windows. The wind howled past, a river of sand and grit.
'Your son was kind enough to offer us shelter,' Qui-Gon explained. 'We met at the shc; gt; p where he works.'
'Come on!' Anakin insisted, grabbing Padme's hand once more. 'Let me show you my droid.'
He led Padme toward his bedroom, already beginning a detailed explanation of what he was doing. The girl followed without arguing, listening attentively. R2-D2 went with them, beeping in response to the boy's words.
Jar Jar stayed where he was, still looking around, appearing to want someone to tell him what to do. Qui- Gon stood facing the boy's mother in awkward silence. Grains of sand beat against the thick glass of the windows with a rapid pocking sound.
'I'm Shmi Skywalker,' she said, holding out her hand. 'Anakin and I are pleased to have you as our guests.'
Qui-Gon had already appraised the situation and determined what was needed. He reached under his poncho and pulled five small capsules from a pouch in his belt. 'I know this is unexpected. Take these. There's enough food for a meal.'
She accepted the capsules. 'Thank you.' Her eyes lifted and lowered again. 'Thank you very much. I'm sorry if I was abrupt. I'll never get used to Anakin's surprises, I guess.' 'He's a very special boy,' Qui-Gon offered.
Shmi's eyes lifted again, and the look she gave him suggested they shared an important secret.
'Yes,' she said softly, 'I know.'
In his bedroom, Anakin was showing Padme C-3PO. The droid lay on his workbench, deactivated at the moment because the boy was in the process of fabricating its metal skin. He had completed the internal wiring, but its torso, arms, and legs were still bare of any covering. One eye was out of its head as well, Jying nearby where he had left it after tightening down the visual refractor the night before.
Padme bent over his shoulder, studying the droid carefully.
'Isn't he great?' Anakin asked eagerly, anxious for her reaction. 'He's not finished yet, but he will be soon.'
