The Cost of a Question- A Short Story

“Everything has a cost. Never forget that.”

As a child, Arya had always thought these words were either mundane and transactional spoken in a store from a minimum wage clerk who was waiting for their lucky strike to go big or were spoken by Rumpelstiltskin when making a deal that would ruin a life or two.

Perhaps that is why hearing them fall from the lips of a fortune teller whom she and her friends had gone to out of curiosity struck such fear into her heart.

And yet, wasn’t this exactly what her mentor had told her a fortnight ago?

And her therapist last week?

Yes, the words might not have been the same but why was the sentiment following her? What cheque was destiny waiting to cash?

Stumbling away from the dimply lit tent, she could not leave the words behind. Everything did have a price, she knew that. The dress she was wearing was worth a few hundred. Her hairstyle had taken hours of her day which her uncle never failed to remind her were money-making hours, even if she believed in the power of rest.

But why did it feel like there was a deeper price?

A price just as important as well-being? As money? As time?

A price destiny would force her to acknowledge as innocence slipped away.

Or perhaps she was being too foreboding. Grace loved to say that while Arya didn’t live in a fantasy novel, she could turn any moment into something out of one if left with her thoughts long enough. So, Arya firmly put the thought away. She would think about it rationally. If everything had a price, it meant everything was a commodity…. except that wasn’t true. You could not put a price tag on a smile.

So…what was the common threat? The loss that any action or inaction incurred?

Was the price energy?

But how would that work, a thought questioned, sounding sternly like the chemistry teacher that her taught her that energy could only change, never be lost or gained.

Then what…what was the price she was missing? And why was it haunting her?

“Laura?”

“Well, look who is back with us now! Did the old lady scare you so much? It’s probably nothing! Are you sure there is not some chipotle order that you left unpaid? Maybe something expensive in your cart? Forget it, man!”

“No…I…I…um…had a question.”

“As long as we aren’t debating the aerodynamics of dragon flight again. You know I am in the right there.”

“No…no, it’s not that. It is just…what do you think is this price?”

“Just let it go, Ry. It’s probably nothing. You know how many such places are scams? Come on! We have the rest of the fair to enjoy.”

And yet, as she went about her day- laughing and playing- Arya couldn’t help but wonder, what price.

****

“Make sure it’s worth the cost honey!”

A week later, shopping seemed like a nightmare. Her aunt from India had come and every word she spoke reminded Arya of the teller’s words. Everything was evaluated for value, whether it was worth the tag. While Arya would sometimes argue that comfort or her love for the piece made it worth it- even if Radha Masi thought the product wasn’t- every conversation made her wonder.

Did her aunt know the price?

How could she know the worth of another place’s goods? Their rates?

But her aunt was not just looking at that, now, was she? No. She was looking at the make of items, at their durability- something Arya had never considered before and yet…why should she pay so much for a dress, when if she loved it a lot, she would have to buy it again and again and again. Not to mention when it went out of the stores!

“Which is why you buy good stuff and learn to repair what you love Arie,” her grandmother said over masala chai as Arya recounted her feelings.

“But is that worth it? When you can simply replace? Think of the time to learn the skill alone!”

“Arya beta, the joy of crafting or repairing something with your hands is unmatched…but if you are worried about the cost, why not get it done? Create jobs! Just ensure they don’t rip you off! Times are bad.”

Was that the price then?

Love? Joy? Dedication?

And yet, could that fit everything…or were there different prices?

Arya felt as if something big was waiting on the horizon…. or at least something that would answer her question, even if it didn’t lead to a galactic quest. Hence, she turned to her books. Didn’t they say fiction held answers to human nature? Perhaps, some character had paid this elusive price.

And then she recalled Frodo Baggins. Hadn’t he paid the ultimate price? Peace of mind?

So, was that it?

That every choice you made stacked up and the wrong one would rob you off sleep? But obsessing like that over every choice? She knew that was unhealthy. Her therapist would say to extend grace to herself and say she was doing her best with what she knew and she can grow from it. Arya still always hoped she didn’t cause harm, but that was neither here nor there.

What price was there?

“I wonder if this is what drove Faust mad,” she said out loud to her therapist when they met next.

“Are you simply thinking about this and nothing else?”

“Not really. I go about life…but I do want the answer.”

“Interesting.”

“Do you know what it is?” Arya asked, a moment of joy flickering in her. Perhaps her hunt would end.

“Not for you. But I do know this, everything has a cost and that’s why we often- because always would be impossible for many of us- make our choices weighing the benefits of something against what we are putting at stake for it. Not every choice is so rational, but yes, we have to be okay with paying the price for our choices. And its not always a bad thing.”

Thus, she was left hunting. Wondering what was the price of her walking- for that was everything too wasn’t it? And was the walk worth was she was unknowingly paying for it?

But what was she paying with?

Her time was relaxing, her health was improving, her relationships would benefit from her relaxation, and her work would be better.

What was the loss?

Perhaps, the cost was small for this action…. but what was it?

Arya died without ever finding the answer but se spent her life looking. A well-known philosopher she wrote papers upon papers on it…until her last one. The natural cost of our choices among a myriad of others, which she never saw the reception of. Her walk meant a road, a road meant concrete, concrete meant extraction, which meant workers, which meant resources.

Her personal costs were few but even for a necessitate such a walk- the social and environmental costs were one she never thought to consider. That balance sheet was forgotten. And while the benefits of walking spaces in individual and community places would always be more, to Arya at least, her work opened the doors to people seeing how the natural cost of things could be minimized if too high. Others began to consider the emotional toll of their choices. And many went with her idea of not every choice can be examined at such level, or it would be unhealthy.

For Arya, there were many other such sheets- personal, familial, health, money and so many more. That it was never possible to know exactly what we are paying for something and hence, we simply must balance its seen value against costs we can see in the moment. Beyond this, self-grace is the only option we have, alongside learning our lesson. These were the words the world would know Arya Sinha for.

Though…she died wondering, who would face the consequences. Knowing that all she could do was her best to be kind to herself and others, might have given her peace…but in her final moments she knew another price- the price of curiosity.

Author’s Note: Thanks to Anjali for beta reading this work, and sorry for not taking your suggestions for this draft! I am very grateful for you and your reviews, my dear reader, as well, and if you wish to read more short stories by me, there is an horror anthology with two works from me, Once Upon a Sublime, and a fantasy anthology with two more titled, Once and Thereafter.