Lush Trilogy

by S. L. Baum

  “It’s nothing, Bluebell. I just want you to know how much I love you. That is why I never want to lose you,” she answers.

  “That’s silly,” I smile up at her. “You can’t lose a person. You only lose toys and things.”

  Her eyes begin to water a little and I think she might cry, but she doesn’t. “You’re right, dear heart. We must go faster though. Do you think you can walk a little faster?”

  “I could try,” I say.

  I push my little legs harder and try to keep up with her hurried pace.

  “What was that?” she asks and spins around. Her eyes dart across the field and she stares into the trees. “Hurry!”

  She grabs onto my hand, squeezing tightly, and we start to run. She moves so fast, I am not sure if I can keep up. I yank my arm free, but I keep running. I start to lag behind.

  I see a bridge up ahead. It’s made of planks of wood and ropes, all strung together. We have to cross it, but I’m not sure that I want to. I stumble and fall, but she doesn’t turn around because she hasn’t seen that I’ve fallen. She steps onto the bridge without me.

  I start to cry. That grabs her attention and she stops then turns to look at me. I am on the ground staring back at her. There is worry in her eyes.

  “Get up, Bluebell,” she calls out.

  But I can’t get up. My ankle hurts. The woman looks behind me. She focuses on something, and her eyes grow big with fear.

  “Get up, Bluebell!” she screams.

  I shake my head at her.

  “Get up, Bluebell!” she screams again.

  It is so loud. But I am frozen, I can’t move. Something grabs me from behind.

  I awoke drenched in sweat. It was dripping from my head and my pajamas were soaked through. My heart was racing. I looked around my room in a panic, trying to figure out what had grabbed me, before realizing that none of it was real. It had just been a terrible dream.

  It was the most detailed dream I had ever had. I could instantly remember every moment of it. But this time I had mingled the details of the story Lost on the Way to the Beach with the dream that had plagued me for so many years. But it had seemed so real. It didn’t seem like something that I had created. It seemed like me… like I had really and truly experienced it.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it.

  I picked at the edges of my damp shirt, pulling it away from my body, and decided that I needed to take a long, steamy shower. I hoped it would wash away the dream, wash away the mysterious tablet, and make me feel clean once again.

  An hour later, as soon as I’d finished drying my hair, Aspen appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.

  “You performed well last night,” she smiled.

  “Thank you, Aspen,” I replied.

  I was a bit shocked to see her there. She seldom spoke to me unless it was out of necessity or to give me one of her “life lessons.”

  “It was silly of me to ask you to start calling me that,” she said. She twirled a section of her hair with her fingers. “Aspen. It’s not right, is it?”

  “It is fine,” I shrugged, a bit shocked by the conversation. “It is what we are all used to now.”

  “I think I was trying to resist getting older. If I erased Mother and stayed Aspen I thought it would make me feel better. It doesn’t. I’ve maintained myself so well that it actually doesn’t bother me anymore… the thought of being called Mother.”

  “Oh?” I said. It was the only thing that I could think of to say.

  “Yes. Ever since Cimarron told me that you’d need to refer to me as Mother when we are in public, I’ve been thinking. It is actually quite nice… being the mother of the Lush Ambassador. You are conducting yourself with such poise and strength, and you show your support of Concord and The Council so well. I guess I just want to let you know that you can call me Mother all the time, not just when we are in public.”

  I was taken aback by her words. She had never said anything so kind to me, for as long as I could remember. My eyes misted over. Aspen wasn’t exactly showing affection to me, but it was the closest thing to affection I’d ever experienced with her. It pulled at something deep within me. My throat swelled up.

  I gave her a small smile. “Thank you, Aspen.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” she corrected.

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  “Well, that is settled. It is our day of rest today. I thought we could spend it together. Maybe we could find a few new outfits for you. What do you think?”

  “I’d like that, Asp… Mother.”

  She smiled in triumph. “Excellent. Why don’t you put some make-up on that face and wear something nice and be ready to go in, say, thirty minutes?”

  “I’ll be ready,” I assured her.

  She nodded her head at me and then turned to leave. I stood in the bathroom, a bit shocked by the whole conversation, for several minutes before I realized that I’d better hurry up and get myself ready.

  My mother was expecting me.

  Aspen and I spent several hours picking out numerous new outfits for me to wear when I toured the four Concords. The style consultant had sent an album of pictures and sketches of desirable looks to both of our tablets. So as we shopped we were able to compare and select the most fashionable pieces. Aspen, my mother, chose quite a few new looks for herself as well.

  She also insisted on selecting an assortment of bracelets and ornamented cuffs, several in a style that matched her own quite well. If we both wore them, she reasoned, it would draw less attention to me when we were together. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to wear them all the time, like she did, because my Citizen Brand was the entire reason for me being chosen as the Lush Ambassador. The people wanted to see the mark when I was being paraded around. But my mother said that afterward, when I had time to just be Bluebell, covering the mark would put us on a more level ground. It was my face, she insisted, that should be the focal point, not just my Citizen Brand.

  At first I found it hard to transition from Aspen to Mother, and she had to correct me quite a few times. But by the end of the day I found the word rolled off my tongue a little easier, and I was almost able to think of her in a motherly fashion. Slowly, genuine smiles replaced my tentative ones, and I was able to catch a glimpse of what Lily had always had with her mother. I didn’t feel quite so jealous of my friend by the end of the day.

  And I had completely forgotten about the mysterious tablet… until the next morning, when I awoke from yet another dream.

  “Get up, Bluebell!” she screamed. “They’re here.”

  “What?” I yelled out, not understanding.

  “Get up, please. I don’t want to lose you! GET UP, BLUEBELL!”

  My eyes flew open.

  I felt frozen, unable to move, but I knew it would be silly to panic. So I focused on my surroundings and breathed deeply, first in then out, in an attempt to calm myself. I was in bed, lying on my side, curled up into a ball; my muscles so tight they ached. I tried to stretch myself out, but found it was a difficult task to accomplish. Moving slowly, first one leg, then the other, I finally managed to uncurl myself and lie flat. I reached my arms behind my head, touching the headboard and tried to make myself as long as possible on the bed. The stretch felt good.

  Whatever had happened in the dream before that moment, before the woman had screamed at me, I couldn’t remember… The only thing I knew was… I felt frantic.

  I forced myself to swing my legs to the side of the bed and get up. I needed to get ready for the day. There was no time to analyze the dream. I didn’t want to be late getting to the CEC; Cimarron did not like to be kept waiting. After checking the time, I knew I’d have to move fast.

  My father stopped me as I was on my way out the door.

  “Bluebell, you look tired today. You can’t still be recovering from the Gala on Saturday.”

  “Not recovering,” I yawned. “I just don’t think I slept very well.”

  “You don’t think?”


  I twirled my new/old flower ring around my finger, trying to remember anything else from the dream. Other than the typical, Get up, Bluebell… I was still drawing a blank.

  “Weird dreams,” I shrugged.

  My father smiled at me. “Like a mouth full of loose teeth, or forgetting the words to a speech, or showing up for an important event in your undergarments?”

  “Gracious, no,” I laughed. “Do you dream those things?”

  My father gave a sheepish smile. “Sometimes. So if it’s not loose teeth, what is it?”

  “Nothing really. In the dream I am little. I fall. Some woman screams at me to get up but I can’t.”

  “Who is the woman?” my father asks.

  “Funny thing is, I have no idea. She’s kind of faceless, but I’m pretty sure she has dark hair.”

  “One of your trainers or a Guardian perhaps?”

  “No. I’m pretty sure I’m about four in the dream so it would be before Training Tech.”

  He patted my shoulder. “Dreams are just dreams.”

  “I know,” I said, still twirling the ring around my finger.

  My father pointed to it. “From the boy. Thorn?”

  “Yes. Thorn gave it to me. Does it look familiar or anything?”

  “No. The flower reminds me of your Citizen Brand though.”

  I put my right hand near my left wrist and compared the two. “I guess it does kind of look like it.”

  “I thought that the first time I saw it,” he said. His voice had taken a different air, like he wasn’t quite in the room with me anymore.

  “When was that?” I asked.

  Aspen walked over to where we stood. “When was what?”

  “The first time he saw this ring?”

  “In the car on Saturday evening, of course,” Aspen answered for him. “I’m not sure you should be wearing that. Potential suitors you know.”

  “I’m sure it is fine,” my father said.

  “I’m not so sure,” Aspen countered. “Bluebell, you don’t want to keep Cimarron waiting. Off you go. And Jackson, darling, I have a question about our daughter’s Gala. We are quickly running out of time, it will be here on Saturday,” she said with a grimace and grabbed my father’s arm. “I think I should dye my hair a single color again. All blonde. These multiple colors, though artfully done, are starting to be copied. I’ve gone from four to two and it’s time to move on again,” she sighed, pulling my father away from me and walking toward the den.

  I had been dismissed. It was just as well. Aspen was right. Punctuality was very important to Cimarron.

  “Bluebell,” Aspen called over her shoulder. “I had a lovely day yesterday. We really do need to spend time together more often. It will make our interactions much more natural when we are to make public appearances together. Don’t you agree?”

  It was a question phrased as a statement, because my mother was accustomed to being agreed with. In her mind, there wasn’t a second or third option available. She didn’t even wait for an answer; she just led my father into the other room.

  There was a car waiting for me outside. My grandfather had decided that it would be better if I had a car and driver at my disposal. After my Gala I would be expected to start my official duties, which meant a lot of travel, a lot of appearances, and a lot of public speaking. Having a car and driver would definitely make all that a lot easier.

  My tablet beeped as I got in the back of the car. A message appeared on the phone and I typed a reply. A quick conversation followed.

  From Thorn: In case you didn’t know – you were amazing on Saturday. I’d like to see you sometime today.

  From Me: Thank you. Sorry my mother pulled me away.

  From Thorn: Me too. I would’ve liked to spend more time with you. Later today?

  From Me: Maybe tonight at the park. My day will be full.

  From Thorn: Mine too actually. Tonight at the park is good. 7:00?

  From Me: 7 will work for me. See you tonight.

  From Thorn: Sounds good. One more thing. Are you still wearing the ring?

  From Me: Yes. Why?

  From Thorn: Think about it today and try to remember.

  “Try to remember,” I repeated the phrase out loud.

  Was that phrase in the mystery tablet? I asked myself. Did Thorn have something to do with it? He was always questioning things and trying to make me look at different side of an issue, and not just the Concord side. Thorn wanted me to push myself to remember things, even though it was almost impossible and it gave me headaches. Maybe Aspen was right. Maybe Thorn wasn’t someone I should be associating myself with. But I pushed those thoughts away. I liked Thorn. I didn’t want to believe anything bad about him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Countdown

  Cimarron was waiting for me when I finally arrived at the CEC. She and I had only one week left together to go over last minute things before we’d both be plunged into the active world of a Lush Ambassador for Concord. After my Gala, we were off to Concord Four, then on to Three, then Two, and then back to One.

  “I got word that we were officially given our security clearance today,” Cimarron stated. “All border stops will be informed of our right to pass through.”

  “Do we just flash something on our tablets when we cross or something? Or will they have pictures of us up at the borders?” I asked, unsure of the security protocol.

  “No, silly girl,” Cimarron smiled. “The guards will scan us and check our Identity Chips.”

  “Identity Chips?”

  “Oh yes. A little chip that we all have inside us.”

  “And how long have I had this chip inside me?” I asked.

  “They started being implemented about twelve years ago, probably during your first year of Training Tech. I remember when the mandate was announced. We were simply told that during the next scheduled physical check-up with our doctor, a chip would be implanted under our skin. It carries all our personal and medical information within it, so if we are ever in an accident or fall seriously ill we will be able to get the proper care we need. It also helps with the little ones if they wander off and get lost, someone in Tracking will be able to locate them almost immediately.”

  I frowned. “I thought that was what the tablets were for.”

  “The tablets are only good for contacting a person with a video chat or a message that needs an immediate response. They are a way to get hold of someone. They do have tracking devices in them, but people sometimes forget their tablet and leave it at home. Concord needs a reliable way to locate each Citizen and protect them from peril. That is why the Identity Chip was created.”

  “I wonder why they never told us.”

  “Mandates are not always passed on to children. As a Year One, you were too young to understand what the benefits were, so it was probably just inserted during some other minor procedure. It didn’t hurt. I remember it well; just a very small incision, and a little skin glue for closure. But I think I may have a high tolerance for pain. My husband has a slightly different opinion.”

  “So everybody has one?”

  Cimarron nodded her head. “Yes. Everybody. It is done minutes after a child is born now. That way they are fully protected from the very first day of their life. Concord Reigns.”

  “Concord Reigns,” I repeated. “Have you been given any more details about what it is we will be doing during this tour?” I asked.

  “We will be visiting the Training Tech of each Concord. While there, you will specifically speak to the classes of Year Six and Year Ten, as well as the Incorporating class. We will attend a hosted dinner party, sort of a mini Gala event, with several of the influential families of each Concord in attendance. The Council has informed the chosen families and extended a formal invitation. Only the most loyal and influential families were invited. Then we will make a few very public appearances, so that the rest of the Citizens of each Concord have a chance to catch a glimpse of you,” Cimarron explained.


  “So it’s officially all planned out now?”

  “A day by day guide will be sent to us soon,” she answered. “A full wardrobe has been packed and pre-shipped to each Concord for you, with a gown for each of the hosted dinners. I was able to get a bonus wardrobe as well. My husband thinks my new violet gown brings out the purple tones in my eyes.”

  “Will your husband be allowed to join you?” I asked. “It sounds like we may be gone for quite a while.”

  “It won’t be that long, just a week in each Concord, initially. And no, he was not granted the clearance to leave Concord One. He is needed at his place of work, and it would not do for him to take such an extended leave of absence. It usually takes months of planning to get the proper permissions to travel through the tunnels between Concords. You and I have been granted permissions because we are on a special tour. There are only so many travel passes granted each year.”

  “It is good that Citizens are kept track of,” I said, remembering a lesson from school. “When I was in Year Ten at Training Tech, we were told about a time before Concord, when people were forgotten. They were lost to their families and disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. Many people died and there were never any bodies found, for proof of death for the remaining family members. I would hate for that to happen. It would be awfully hard to deal with.”

  Cimarron smiled. “With so many Citizens to keep track of, it does require strict adherence to the rules, but it is for our own good.”

  “I understand.” I said.

  “I knew you would. Not every Citizen is aware of the Identity Chips or of the great amount of time Concord spends keeping track of our people, but that is for their own good. Some people do not process that kind of information well. That is another reason why you are quite perfect for this job. You understand that Concord works best when its Citizens are cooperative and accepting. I have always accepted that Concord knows best and I have been rewarded with a very nice life.”