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A Chorus Rises

Page 27

by Bethany C. Morrow


  “Did anybody watch,” Courtney repeats. “My cousin has fifty thousand subscribers, my dude.”

  “Had,” I correct him from inside the shadow, but it’s his voice, it’s the mention of a cousin that makes what the Ancestors are saying make sense.

  You’re not alone.

  And when I’m listening, when I’m one of them, and near enough to see the shadow place, I’ve put the world in the background and I know the words they say mean a half dozen things.

  They’re closer now.

  I’m not going to lose them just because I’m back in Portland.

  The network helped us find Plaid Shirt today. Ms. Donna said they’d look out for the doxed, whether they were sirens or not. Maybe that means that just like LOVE, they know we need to expand our definition of what the network means, and who we protect.

  And it’s “we” again, because without ceremony, they let me back in.

  We’re all in this together.

  Look. I’m still Naema, and yes, I’m a strategist, but the Ancestors tell me I’m not alone. Which means I don’t have to execute every plan on my own. I’m not supposed to. There are limits when I do.

  Like facing down a Knight, and hoping he’ll scurry off the grid, never to be heard from again without double-checking that he did.

  The shadow’s gone. I’m standing in a very brightly lit Popeye’s surrounded by friends who are excited about my comeback and the internet’s reception. And Leona Fowl is almost in her car.

  I run.

  “Leona!” And when I yell, I throw the trill in my voice but not to charm passersby. As a reminder. So that Leona Fowl knows why she’s supposed to hear me out.

  She pulls her shoulder back like being trapped between me and her open car door makes her nervous. Because she can convince herself she’s in harm’s way after I have a strict word with her, but she doesn’t get what’s so wrong with venting about wanting to Take Action against Black women and girls.

  “I need to see the direct messages,” I tell her.

  She gives me a skeptical side-eye.

  “Leona. I know you’re in them. We’re talking about a little girl, and a grown man who wants to prove he’s a Knight. You need to tell me how they make rank.”

  “All the ridiculous ways?… Or the big one?”

  Chapter XXVIII

  Magic Verified Collaboration—Tavia and Naema

  NAEMA: Welcome back to my magical space, friends!

  TAVIA: Hi!

  NAEMA: This is the long-awaited, much-requested—

  TAVIA: So much requested.

  NAEMA:—magical collab! I’m joined by siren superstar Tavia Philips, who of course you all know very, very well. Tavia, thank you.

  TAVIA: It’s finally happening. Very glad to be here, and glad to tell our own story ourselves, right?

  NAEMA: Girl. So listen. We know it’s been in the news, but if this last year has taught me anything—

  TAVIA: Right?

  NAEMA: It’s the importance of having our own space to tell you guys the real, without intermediaries and third parties putting their spin on it.

  TAVIA: Or interjecting with product placement.

  NAEMA: That, too.

  TAVIA: Okay, should I start?

  NAEMA: Girl, this is not your channel.

  TAVIA: My bad.

  NAEMA: Please look around. This is not Siren Speaks. This is Naema B.

  TAVIA: All right. I got it.

  NAEMA: Let me begin. So once upon a time there was an Eloko princess named Naema B—

  TAVIA: Oh lord.

  NAEMA: And some super corny internet bros decided I needed a pack of self-proclaimed Knights—

  TAVIA: Oop. Air quotes and everything.

  NAEMA: To defend my honor or something. Because of a whole Awakening thing that’s old news. Anyway, it quickly became evident that they were really just very pressed about our girl Tavia’s popularity, and everything she stands for as a siren.

  Tavia: True facts.

  NAEMA: And stanning a Black girl Eloko was supposed to keep anyone from figuring out that they were anti-Black af.

  TAVIA: All the tea.

  NAEMA: So then came the hashtags—

  TAVIA: Justice for Naema, ElokoFirst.

  NAEMA: Thank you. And one more that no one but fellow Knights were supposed to know about.

  TAVIA: Secret Sirens.

  NAEMA: And friends, it’s exactly what it sounds like because the mediocrity knows no bounds.

  TAVIA: They started making a list of Black girls and women they supposedly suspected of being sirens. And in order to earn reputation points and improve his ranking, one of them decided to be a hero and collar one.

  NAEMA: You probably heard all of that on the news. What you probably didn’t hear is that it was me and Tavia—

  TAVIA: And a crew of Eloko—

  NAEMA: And a lot of people who look out for us. We took him down.

  TAVIA: Shout-out to Officer Blake of the Portland PD for showing up, and believing us when we said we knew where dude was headed, and why.

  NAEMA: Which reminds me—the other part you probably didn’t hear about on the news is that another Knight earned his rank by hacking the schematics for a siren-silencing collar like law enforcement uses. So the collar the guy took to a little girl’s house? It was real. Just like the rope that was found in the back of his car.

  TAVIA: Don’t worry, gang, the little girl is safe. Her family had been alerted ahead of time, and she was taken elsewhere while we waited for the cavalry. We’re eternally grateful to the dedicated community members who worked with us not just to warn the family, but to track the so-called Knight’s movements and unmask his secret life as a domestic terrorist.

  NAEMA: One down, so many to go.

  TAVIA: But we’re not letting that discourage us. In the next few video collabs, we’re gonna be explaining how Naema and I are planning to continue this fight, from supporting local legislature aimed at suspending the use of siren-silencing collars, to working to free activists like Camilla Fox—

  NAEMA: To creating a watchdog network to make sure the forum where these guys assembled doesn’t go unnoticed when and where it inevitably pops up again.

  TAVIA: Definitely that, too.

  NAEMA: We’re going to be making our digital home here on Magic Verified, and we’re so excited for you all to get involved in keeping Portland magical for everyone.

  Chapter XXIX

  NAEMA

  We’re back at the airport several days later, but it’s not just Courtney and me this time. Dad’s tipping the skycap, and chatting away, while they take care of my parents’ totally unnecessarily huge luggage, and beside me, Mommy is rubbing her tummy apprehensively.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell her, snaking my arm through hers.

  “I’m not worrying,” she lies, and then glances up at me and Courtney with a timid smile.

  “I know you want the baby to be Eloko, and I know Portland’s supposed to be the magic place,” I begin.

  “But you didn’t know what being Eloko was really like until you left,” she finishes, recapping what I told my parents after the hoopla of Ms. Donna, and Officer Blake, and Leona Fowl.

  “No,” I say, gently. “I was gonna say that being with your family matters a lot more. Mommy, I know you miss them, or you wouldn’t chip in to reunions you never attend, or fill out visitation paperwork when you had no intention of being in town. You’re giving up too much.”

  “I’m just trying to make another you,” she tells me, and puts her head on my shoulder. Which is good because she can’t see the way the setting sun glints off my eye and almost makes it water.

  “I mean. That’s totally fair.”

  I don’t tell her what I already know. That part of hearing the Ancestors is a kind of Eloko network, joining us together. So I know already that my little sibling is Eloko just like me. I don’t tell her because I want her to be willing to leave Portland regardless. I want her to be ready
to let go of all the fawning and pedestaling that it took the stone to dislodge me from.

  “You are the actual worst,” Courtney says, wearing my travel pillow on the back of his neck.

  “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you,” I reply, digging a finger between his ribs.

  “What are you even talking about?” he asks while he grimaces. Like he doesn’t know.

  I know they exchanged phone numbers at Popeye’s, and I saw them this morning, when she came by and he snuck outside to meet her. The way they talked for a few moments, twirling hair around fingertips, and rubbing a clean-shaven chin with the right hand so she’d see the thick silver watch glint. Then he’d extended his arms in a clear invitation. The worst part was the way Tavia giggled, covering the bottom of her face with one hand, while she looked over her shoulder like she didn’t want anyone to see—and clearly didn’t look in the right direction to see me. When she finally slid into Courtney’s arms, they were all sunlit melanin, and hair and headwrap silhouette, and my cousin’s handsome grin over her shoulder.

  Idiots.

  “Everybody ready?” My dad asks as he comes back, shoving his wallet into his back pocket. “First vacation in—man, I don’t even wanna count.”

  “We already missed the family reunion,” Mommy pouts up at him.

  “It’s a family reunion because we’re going,” he says, and kisses her forehead before popping down and kissing her tummy.

  “They are the actual worst,” I tell Courtney, and head into the airport.

  Also by Bethany C. Morrow

  A Song Below Water

  About the Author

  Bethany C. Morrow is a recovering expat recently returned from six years in Montreal, Quebec, to live and write in North Country, New York. A California native, Morrow graduated from the University of California, Santa Cruz, with a B.A. in sociology. Following undergrad, she studied clinical psychological research at the University of Wales, Bangor, in Great Britain, before returning to North America to focus on her literary work. She is the author of the adult novel Mem and the editor of the young adult anthology Take the Mic.

  Visit her online at bethanycmorrow.com, or sign up for email updates here.

  Twitter: @BCMorrow

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Chapter I. Naema

  Chapter II. Woke Portland: a Year After the Awakening

  Chapter III. Naema

  Chapter IV. When Eloko Behave Badly, or: a Time to Reframe

  Chapter V. Naema

  Chapter VI. UP Professor Wants Portland to Reconsider Eloko Love

  Chapter VII. Naema

  Chapter VIII. Awaken: an Underwhelming Piece of Propaganda

  Chapter IX. Naema

  Chapter X. Love Account: Thegavinshinn

  Chapter XI. Naema

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII. Knights of Naema Post

  Chapter XIV. Naema

  Chapter XV. Naema

  Chapter XVI. Knights of Naema—Members Only

  Chapter XVII. Naema

  Chapter XVIII. Knights of Naema Post

  Chapter XIX. Naema

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI. Knights of Naema Post

  Chapter XXII. Naema

  Chapter XXIII

  Chapter XXIV. Katu News Segment

  Chapter XXV. Naema

  XXVI. Love Press Release—Immediate Publication

  Chapter XXVII. Naema

  Chapter XXVIII. Magic Verified Collaboration—Tavia and Naema

  Chapter XXIX. Naema

  Also by Bethany C. Morrow

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CHORUS RISES

  Copyright © 2021 by Bethany C. Morrow

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Diana M. Pho

  Cover art by Alex Cabal

  Cover design by Lesley Worrell

  A Tor Teen Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates

  120 Broadway

  New York, NY 10271

  www.tor-forge.com

  Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.

  The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:

  Morrow, Bethany C., author.

  A chorus rises: a Song below water novel / Bethany C. Morrow.—First edition. p. cm.

  “A Tom Doherty Associates book.”

  ISBN 978-1-250-31603-5 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-250-31602-8 (ebook)

  1. Fame—Fiction. 2. Social media—Fiction. 3. Belonging (Social psychology)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PZ7.1.M6757 Ch 2021

  [Fic]—dc23

  2021008742

  eISBN 9781250316028

  Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.

  First Edition: 2021

 

 

 


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