Elsie and Dana clung to the dump truck as it moved throughout the city, making frequent stops for them to grab the canisters of garbage. They pulled up into a posh, luxurious multistory building.
“You girls will have to go in there and collect the bins. Pour their contents in the chute and then leave. There is a bin on each floor. And hurry up!” The driver settled back in his truck.
“And don’t dawdle. These people don’t like our kind in their building.”
Elsie and Dana went inside. They walked up to the front desk of the lobby. The guy at the desk gave them a disgusted expression. He scanned their chips and allowed them to pass.
“You are to empty the bins on each floor,” said the man at the front desk. “The faster you get it done, the better. Folk around here don’t like seeing you people.”
You people, thought Dana. In school, she was taught that the collective group was a family; each member had their proper role and all were to be respected, though she and others knew that the equality in their society was more words than reality.
“And don’t touch anything,” mocked Elsie as they climbed the stairs to the upper floors. “Folk around here don’t like seeing you people around. Yeah, but they love having us empty their trash and clean up after them.”
“Keep it down,” said Dana.
“Why?”
“If anyone hears you, then we will both get in trouble.”
Elsie paused on the stairwell. A pensive look crossed her face as she thought for several moments, making Dana nervous. “There’s something wrong about that?”
“What?”
“Well, think about it,” said Elsie, “We got sent to Waste Management because we asked too many questions, or refused to follow the rules. We cannot speak our minds without the fear of someone overhearing us and reporting us to an officer.”
Elsie’s words rang true and Dana knew it. She had spent her whole life afraid of speaking her mind for fear of punishment. When she did voice her opinion, she always got lectured. But school was a thing of the past, and now she was considered an adult. Punishment here was more than a lecture.
Dana thought back to Career Assignment Day and the man next door who was arrested as his wife cried in the street. His crime? He wrote a petition demanding the right to choose his own line of work and to be allowed to keep all of what he earned.
“You’re right, Elsie,” said Dana.
“Of course I’m right.”
“But keep it down, for now. We have a job to do, and if we take too long, you know what will happen.”
“All right,” relented Elsie. “Here’s the first floor.”
“Actually,” said Dana, stopping her, “why don’t we go all the way to the top and work our way down? That way, we’ll be on the bottom floor by the time we’re worn out.”
“Now that is first-rate thinking,” said Elsie.
They hiked up the stairs in the coldly lit stairwell. Only non-essential personnel used the stairs. Those who actually worked at the building in the offices were allowed to use the elevator. Their feet slapped the linoleum of the floor as they ran to the top floor.
Exhausted, they stopped on the top step as they caught their breath. They panted heavily, taking long, slow, and deep breaths to slow their pulse.
“I hate stairs,” gasped Elsie.
Dana agreed.
They opened the door to the top floor and met a sight completely different from anything they had ever seen. The entire area had whimsical decorations. Paintings lined the wall. Desks split into groups of four, and each had a comfortable chair. Computers and the latest gadgets covered every surface.
Dana couldn’t believe it. In Waste Management, she was lucky to have a clean set of clothes and a hot meal. But here, these people wore very expensive clothes and wasted their time on electronic toys that she could never dream of owning.
Those working on the floor paused to glance at them. Their looks said it all. Elsie and Dana were not welcome.
“The bins are over there,” said one woman, pointing to the other side of the room. “And don’t forget the one in the banquet hall this time.”
Both Elsie and Dana walked across the fancy rugs that covered the floor, their muddied boots leaving prints. They stood out with their grimy coveralls amidst the aristocratic and clean environment.
It took the efforts of both Dana and Elsie to empty the garbage bin down the chute. It thudded on the floor as they dropped it and rolled it back into place. A few faces turned toward them, giving them unpleasant looks.
“Here,” said a man, handing Dana a half empty bottle of juice. “Take care of this for me.”
Dana just stood there holding the bottle. Is he incapable of throwing it away himself?
“Pocket it,” whispered Elsie.
Dana did so. The bottle fit easily in the deep pockets of her overalls.
Together, she and Elsie went into the banquet hall. It was used for meetings, parties, or just any excuse to chat and not work. Dana walked through the door and stopped aghast at what she saw.
On the one long table in the room were platters full of sweets. A tiered centerpiece held candies, pastries, and bits of fruit and cheese cut up in decorative bite-size pieces. She found another plate full of brownies and a third with a triple layer chocolate cake. On another table in the room was a sandwich station. Meats of every variety, cheeses, bread, condiments, and lettuce sat in pristine containers. Another section of the room had three gold-plated containers filled with soup.
Dana’s stomach grumbled. She had lost weight since being sent to Waste Management. Her hand reached out for a brownie just as a rotund man walked in. She jerked her arm back.
The man went over to the soup bar and filled a crystal bowl with the stuff. He had gotten some of the soup on his fingers and licked them as he grabbed a spoon and napkin. The man paused by the brownie dish. Quickly, he snatched one and walked out without saying a word.
“I don’t get it,” said Elsie. “These foods are forbidden under the law of health equality. If I got caught with one of these, I’d be arrested. Yet, these people have it here, and they can eat anytime they want.”
Jealousy rose within Dana. All her life, what she ate and did had been controlled in the name of public safety and equality. But these people were allowed to ignore all that without the consequences.
“We should take some,” said Elsie, reaching out for a pastry.
Dana caught her arm. “What if we get caught?”
Just then, a young man of about Dana’s age walked in with a rag. He stopped short and studied them a moment before going over to the soup bar and cleaning the mess that the man had made.
Dana instantly realized who he was. The building had caretakers, janitors, and cooks, all of whom were to remain unseen, but keep the area clean and maintained. She studied the man. He looked just as underfed as her. By his body language, Dana could tell that he wanted to reach out for the treats, but refused to since they were there.
“We won’t tell anyone,” said Dana.
He looked at her.
“Look, we’re just as hungry as you and are only here for the trash bin. We’ll just empty it and leave and then you can do what you want.”
She and Elsie reached for the big garbage can and emptied it down the chute. Once they had put it back in its corner, they started for the door. A hand grabbed Dana’s arm. The man held out a napkin with two brownies and pastries wrapped in it. His eyes flickered to the door, making certain no one walked in on them.
Dana took the small bundle. “Thank you.”
The man snitched a pastry and darted away through another door that was barely noticeable among the wallpaper.
Dana tugged on Elsie, indicating that they should go. The two of them hid their treats in their pockets and hurried to the stairwell. She stopped short when she ran into Kenny.
“Kenny!”
People looked in their direction. Kenny quickly snatched her hand and pulled her to a secluded area.
> “Kenny,” said Dana. “What are you doing here?”
“My job,” he said.
Dana noted that he seemed to have put on a little weight since they last saw each other.
“My father is doing one of his inspections and I accompanied him. It’s part of my job. What are you doing here?”
“My job,” said Dana. “This is my day for collecting garbage in the city.”
Kenny noticed the slight bulge in Dana’s pocket. He reached for it and she stopped him.
“Did you take food?”
Dana eyed Kenny with a piercing look.
“You could get arrested for that,” said Kenny.
“Which would be far better than my current situation,” replied Dana. “Do you know what life is like in Waste Management? We barely get enough to eat, and we spend the entire day by the fires disposing of items that you all decided were worth little more that the dirt you stand on.”
Kenny let his arm drop. “Is it that bad?”
Dana said nothing.
Elsie coughed in the distance, indicating that they had wasted enough time.
“I’ve got to go,” said Dana. “If I take too long, I’ll be punished.”
“Here.” Kenny held out his watch to her. Dana studied it. It was a very expensive watch, which would fetch a good price in the underground market.
“What’s this?”
“Take it,” said Kenny. “I know there is an underground and they only deal with useable goods. My father talks about them all the time. Take it. Use it to get yourself something to eat.”
Dana took the watch, holding it as confusion filled her. “Why are you doing this?”
“You’re different, Dana,” replied Kenny. “Different from the others around here.”
Another bout of coughing from Elsie pulled Dana from her desire to ask questions. “Thanks,” she said as she darted off.
Once in the stairwell, Elsie and Dana stopped and pulled out their snacks. Without wasting any time, they ate them so quickly that they barely registered the taste.
Their hunger satisfied, they trooped down to the next level and emptied the bins there. For the next hour, they repeated the process until they finally entered the lobby again.
An irate truck driver awaited them as they exited the building. “What took so long?” he demanded.
“Sorry,” said Elsie. “Some of the containers were fuller than usual and very heavy to lift.”
“Well, I suggest you hurry up next time,” said the driver. “Get on.”
Dana and Elsie hopped on the back of the dump truck, clinging to the bar that was there as it bounced down the road to the next collection.
The buildings of the city whizzed by as the wind ripped through Dana’s hair. They soon pulled into the hospital. There was always a lot of garbage at hospitals.
“In and out,” said the driver.
Dana and Elsie ran inside. Once again, they were greeted by someone at the front desk who scanned their chips and waved them through. Dana and Elsie did the bottom floor first. They walked through the waiting room of sick patients all waiting for their chance to see a doctor. Most would be sent home that day empty-handed.
Coughing and groaning filled the area. Dana scanned the pale faces in the room. One man wheezed so hard that she didn’t think he’d live long enough to see a doctor.
“Walk-ins,” said Elsie, “or the ones not lucky enough to be approved for an appointment. So they come here and wait for a doctor who might have a free moment.”
Dana listened to Elsie explain the situation as though she had no clue what went on. She remembered all too well the suffering of those forced to be walk-ins. When her sister became constantly ill, the Board of Medicine refused to grant them more appointments. Eventually, they received the summons to Wing 16.
They darted past Wing 16 to get to the garbage bins. Dana watched as a mother dropped her toddler son at the doors. The crying woman did her best to shield her tears, but was unable to.
“What’s wrong, mommy?” asked the boy.
“Nothing, my dear,” said the woman. “Nothing. You must go with these people.”
Two orderlies grabbed the boy and shoved him through the metal doors, not giving the mother a chance to say good-bye. Only those summoned actually saw what went on in there. The woman leaned on the doors, weeping uncontrollably.
“Come on,” said Elsie, snatching Dana’s arm. “There’s nothing you can do.”
They continued, passing a giant room filled with hospital beds and sick patients. Doctors and nurses rushed around trying to tend to them, but there were more patients than doctors. Crammed in like sardines, Dana pitied them. An ailing old woman stared at her as she walked by.
“Mrs. Goodwin, you are being released from the hospital,” said a physician.
“But I’m not well,” pleaded the woman.
“I’m sorry,” said the physician, “but your treatment has been denied. Discharge her, nurse.”
Dana noted the frustration in the doctor’s voice at being forced to send a patient home without the chance of being able to help her. She continued on. Soon, she and Elsie found the garbage cans. One by one, they emptied them down the chute, ignoring the stench and green slime with white fuzz.
“Let’s hurry,” said Elsie. “That driver was pretty mad when we took so long the last time.”
They burst into the stairwell and raced up the stairs, taking two at a time. They stopped when they reached the upper level of the hospital. Neither of them had ever been in there. This was the level for those deemed useful to society. Basically, if a patient was an official, or could bribe enough officials, they were sent here.
Together, she and Dana walked through the hall. Each patient had a private room with an open window, allowing them to look outside. The doctors seemed relaxed, not overworked liked the ones on the level below.
Dana paused, looking into one room. A man with cancer received his treatment and a three-course meal. His family sat around him talking and laughing. Jealously filled Dana as she watched the man’s children laugh and play as though they had no worries.
She read the tag on the door. “John Henderson, Board of Health.” No wonder, thought Dana, because he was a member of the Board of Health, he received the cure while others were allowed to die.
The room next door contained a heart patient. Dana remembered seeing his face on the news being interviewed by Halloway. He was the head of the Monetary Management Board.
“Come on,” hissed Elsie, grabbing Dana’s arm once again. “Do you want us to get in trouble?”
“My sister should have been allowed here,” said Dana.
“You know why she wasn’t,” replied Elsie.
Dana knew, but she hated it.
They found the bins on that level, fuller than the ones below. Together, the two girls heaved the bins into the chute, emptying them. Relieved that the load had been lightened, they plopped it back in its spot.
“Okay, let’s get out of here,” said Elsie. “This place depresses me.”
“Agreed,” said Dana.
They ran back to the stairs and charged down them. Quickly, the two ran outside past all of the ailing patients and frustrated doctors. No one noticed their presence, or that they had left. Invisible to all, that was what Dana and Elsie were.
They jumped back on the back of the dump truck, their fingers wrapping around the freezing metal bar. Once again, the driver started up the engine. Bouncing and jerking down the road, Dana observed the people as they drove by them. The well-dressed ones held their heads high, knowing that they had nothing to worry about, so long as they didn’t question too much.
Others wore dirtier clothes: the janitors, waiters, and servants of the world. Servants like her. She knew what they felt, what they thought. Dana thought the same. Where was my choice?
Chapter Seven
Dystopia Page 6