The hall was filled with finders as Muir walked down the large staircase that led to the mess hall. Long rows of tables were set up along the length of the hall, groups of men sitting in their long tan coats, chatting loudly. Smiling to himself, Muir walked over to the ordering window on the far side of the room. Cooks rushed around behind the window, cooking a variety of food based on the wants of the hungry finders.
"Ah, Master Muir!" the Head Cook, Jamie Ash, called as he leaned out of the window.
"Morning Jamie," Muir yawned, stretching his shoulders.
"What is it that you want today?" Jamie asked.
Muir rattled off a list of foods, practically everything from steamed vegetables to oatmeal.
"No meat this time?" Jamie asked.
Muir shook his head. "I havn't eatten enough veggies lately," he explained, leaning against the stone wall.
"Well well well... you're still following the advice of your brother?"
"Of course! Aillen knew everything about how to stay healthy. That's why we never got sick when I was kid. He'd be disappointed is I got sick now."
Muir's older brother, Aillen, had been a student of medicine pratically his whole life. He'd actually been offered a job running a clinic in a small village in Southern India, but had died from an accident before reaching his destination.
"So you've never been ill?" Jamie laughed.
"Not once... well, I was once. I was too young to remember anything and besides, my parents were still around back then," Muir admitted.
He heard a clatter and saw a tray set out on the counter by one of the assistance cooks. There were several bowls of vegetables, fruits, and oatmeal with steamed milk sitting atop it. Picking up the tray, Muir murmured a thank-you to Jamie and went to go sit down.
Picking a spot at the end of a table, he sat down and taking his spoon in his hand, started to quickly down the oatmeal. A group of finders sat nearby, whispering among themselves. He could feel their eyes casting sideways glances at him every few seconds. However, he just ignored them and started to stab a piece of broccoli with his fork.
"I heard that he took part in that revolution in India several years ago," one of the finders whispered.
"Yah, and his brother was the conspirator," another added.
"Really? But just look at his skin color. He's deffinetly a half-breed," a third murmured.
His anger flared, but Muir just kept chewing. Closing his eyes, he continued to eat slowly, trying to force their comments out of his mind. Muir did not think of himself as a "half-breed". To him, there was no such thing. Yes his mother had been a child of the Cherrokke Tribe, but she had been well liked and a kind woman... or at least that had been what Aillen had told him.
It had been one of Muir's favorite stories when he was a child; the story of how his mother and father had met. He would always ask Aillen to tell it to him every night before he went to bed and his older brother would happily oblige. Aillen had never really felt the affects of having a Native American mother. He was as pale as any other Scottish man with wavy brown hair and deep set blue eyes, but he knew that his brother faced it everyday... so he would always explain how the Native Americans (or Indians as other people called them) were not a lesser being.
Muir had never understood that term "Indian". They were not from India, so why were they called that. When he asked Aillen once, all his brother said was, "It doesn't matter what we are called Muir. All that matters is that we should be proud of our Cherrokke blood."
Subject: Just Another Day 
Fri May 01, 2009 2:25 pm
