by Sonya Writes
“It spoke of another planet, and other living creatures, called animals, and it had a lot of pictures, even pictures of flowers.”
Her mother looked concerned. “Ayita, what is the meaning of this? Is what she says true?”
“I…burned the book,” she said. “I burned it. Aira saw me!”
“But you believed it!” Aira said. “You believed the lies. You hesitated before you threw it in the fire. You hesitated!” Aira stood from her seat now and was almost yelling these words.
Her father turned to look at her and to take charge of the conversation. “Ayita, why did you paint flowers on your wall?” he asked, but somehow, he didn’t sound very concerned.
“I thought it would look nice,” she said.
“Did you get the idea from the book?”
Ayita reluctantly nodded. Her parents glanced at each other for a moment before leaving the room together to talk. When they were gone Ayita turned to her friend and asked, “Why did you tell them? You said it was behind us, that you wouldn’t say anything.”
“I said it was behind us because I thought it was, Ayita. But, apparently it wasn’t, or you wouldn’t have painted on your walls. Surely you don’t still believe it all, do you?”
“No!” she said. She felt a tightness in her chest. Lying, again. She wanted to cry. What is happening to me? I’m not a liar. I know I’m not a liar!
“Then why did you do it?” Aira sat back down. Her heart was still racing but her voice was calmer.
Ayita thought for a moment before answering. “I wanted some beauty in my room,” she said. “It’s like having a garden on my wall.”
The look in Aira’s eyes softened, and she didn’t know what to say.
Ayita’s parents returned to the table and sat down. “Your father is going to paint over what you did, and we don’t want to hear about any of this again, okay?” Her father nodded as her mother finished speaking. There was a moment of silence, before she asked, “Were there any other books?”
“Of course not!” This time a tear came to her eyes. I just lied to my parents. Are the books really more important to me than they are?
“Where did you find it?”
Ayita sat, thinking, thinking. She didn’t have an answer to give them. She couldn’t tell them the truth or they’d destroy the rest of her secret library. Her mother asked, again, “Where did you get the book, Ayita?” Ayita panicked, jumped up from her chair, and ran out the front door, away from her house. Her father stood but didn’t follow her. As she ran, her mother asked Aira if she knew anything else. Ayita continued running until she could turn around and her house wouldn’t be there. It was dark out, and cold. Ayita sat down in the grass and looked up at the stars. Earth was out there, somewhere, and it was amazing.
3
Maybe they were right, she thought. Maybe the books were bad. Ayita had lied three times now since finding them. She never lied before that. Maybe all these stories about Earth were nothing more than the written fantasies of a crazy person.
But if that were the case, where did the photographs come from? They were too real, too full of life to have been mere drawings.
Ayita was torn. She wanted to believe in Earth. She wanted to believe in new ideas and positive changes, but it seemed these books were only changing her for the worse. She had to make things right.
When she got home, her mother was in bed and Aira had left. Her father was sitting in the living room by the fireplace.
“Ayita, come sit with me.”
She had tears in her eyes. “Daddy,” she said.
That was the first time she'd called him daddy in over ten years. His heart softened as he watched this tender-hearted daughter of his come to sit beside him. Before tonight she always seemed more innocent and naive than she really was. She wasn’t a child anymore, and sometimes he still needed to remind himself of that.
“I lied,” she told him.
He stopped breathing for a moment. “No,” he said.
She started to apologize, but he interrupted her.
“Not another word. I don't want to hear it.” His expression was as stiff as a stone, but his voice was shaking. “Whatever you are about to tell me: don't.” No amount of self-control could hide the pain on his face.
Ayita was both relieved and heartbroken. The books were her secret to keep, but at the price of her father's respect.
“I'm glad you're home safe,” he told her. Then he got off the couch and went upstairs to bed. Ayita put out the fire for him and continued on to her room. She studied her painting, knowing it wouldn’t be there much longer. There was so much potential, there. If only they would be open-minded, the entire town could have beautiful artwork to ponder as they ambled through life.
Ayita sighed. “They'll never catch me dancing,” she whispered, and she turned off the light.
Ayita felt restless and uneasy at class the next day. It was difficult to digest this material with so many questions on her heart. She turned to the first page in the book. “Silence is the key to learning,” it said. She stared at that sentence for a long time. Was she sitting here memorizing lies all day? Or were the lies hidden in the secret room in her basement? Worse yet, perhaps the lies were in her heart.
Whose authority was it to decide what was truth?
Ayita looked around the room. Her peers were all different from each other. They wore their hair differently, held their books differently, and held their heads differently. Some were slouching; some were leaning on the palm of one hand with their weight on their elbow; some were sitting up straight and holding their book out front. Differences made sense, she thought. The sameness they were taught to believe did not. Ayita needed to know the truth about Earth, and for the moment, she no longer cared about class. It was all a lie, anyway. She was convinced.
Ayita stood, leaving the book on her table, and walked with confidence to the door. All of the eyes in the room looked up, and the instructor stood to address her.
“Excuse me, miss; class isn’t over yet.” Ayita opened the door and walked out. “Miss! You can’t leave yet! Miss!”
Ayita turned around and looked at her. “As an instructor, you could recite any one of those books from start to finish,” she said. “Don’t you know my name?” She stared, waiting, but received no response. The instructor didn’t pay any personal attention to her students. To her they were all test scores and not really people. They would all drop out eventually, so why bother? It took too much energy to care about them. She learned their names from the computer systems and test scores, but never attached those names to faces.
Ayita shook her head, and turned back, away. You’ll learn my name now, she thought. She left the building and hurried toward her home. When she got there, she went straight downstairs to the basement. There had to be something in these books about what happened to the planet called Earth, about how life had become what it was. There had to be a solution to the mess she was in. Ayita took down every book that she’d already read or started reading, and looked up at what was left. There weren’t many. One of them had to have the answer, she thought, but where should she start? Then she saw it. Hidden behind the other books, parallel to the wall, there was a thin book that she never noticed before. She took it down, and opened it in her lap. The pages of the book were blank, but in-between the pages were a series of letters, hand-written on separate pieces of paper.
Dear Aaron,
My son, I am writing these letters to you because I wish to leave you with the truth of our legacy. You are not yet a year old and I will soon be leaving you, but I trust that you will find these letters and read them when you are old enough to understand. I believe in destiny, and I believe that my letters to you will make a difference in your future and the future of this planet. I am hiding them here in my secret room in our basement, but I know that somehow, you will find them and read them one day.
I was born and raised on a planet called Earth. Never forget that. The rulers of this land w
ill try to make you forget. They will tell you that Earth is a lie. Don’t believe them. When you wonder why I am no longer there to be your mother, you can know it is not because I didn’t love you—I love you very much. The reason I cannot stay with you is because I refuse to teach you their lies. I love you too much to lie to you.
All the nations of Earth were at war when I left. We thought the world was ending. Then a man called Dr. Azias proposed a solution: leave earth behind. He’d discovered a distant planet where human life was possible. The planet was called Azias—he named it after himself when he discovered it.
Because of his wealth and influence, Dr. Azias had the decision-making power of who could go and who must stay. He devised a survey that was sent to any who asked, and of the responses, he decided who would have a place to live on Azias and who must remain on Earth. Your father and I were accepted for the journey, but we were not told what the journey would truly entail. He tricked us, all of us, and that is why we are here.
Because we were traveling at a relativistic speed, more than 30 years passed on Earth during our three month flight here. We have not received news as to whether the war did destroy the Earth or not, but I feel a duty to find out. The people here want to deny that Earth exists, but I say we must keep the truth alive.
I love you, Aaron, my son, and I will write again before I leave you.
With all my heart,
Etana
Etana. The girl from the picture. The dancer.
Ayita closed the book and set it down. She didn't read the next letter. Her heart felt heavy. Earth was likely destroyed, and not the ideal place she thought it was. Was there hope anywhere? Had she risked her reputation and her future for this? For nothing? What happened on Earth that caused the people to perish? How could such a beautiful place become destroyed by war? Perhaps the other letters had the answer, but for now Ayita did not have the energy to read any further.
Ayita sighed, but a moment later she realized how much time had passed and she jumped up, leaving the books on the floor in a mess. She climbed out of her crawlspace, replaced the boxes in front of the door, and went back to class. She knew that if she hurried she could still take the second section, if they’d let her. Surely they would, she thought. She’d never known anyone to leave class before it was over, except in giving up, but with her spotless reputation, she felt sure they would let her return.
All eyes were on her when she arrived, just as the second section was starting, and she took her seat. The instructor also looked at her, but didn’t say anything. Ayita opened the book to continue reading once the instructor said loud and clear, “Section two begin.”
On her way home a boy approached her. She saw him every day and knew who he was, but they never spoke to each other. It was that way with most of her classmates. Aira was the only peer she ever talked with, and it wasn't uncommon for most to have only one or two friends. Everyone pretty much kept to themselves.
Acton was quick to find her before she left. He ran up to her and in front of her, skipping any kind of casual introduction or conversation starter. He was direct and to the point.
“I noticed you left class early today,” he said.
“Everyone noticed,” she replied. She rolled her eyes and continued walking. He remained in front of her, facing her, walking backwards as they talked. He was very tall; Ayita felt so small, like a little kid beside him. She felt trapped and uncomfortable. He's too close.
“I’ve never seen anyone do that before.”
There came a tightness in her chest. I'm through dealing with confrontations this week. “Here’s another run-through for you, then,” she said. “This is me leaving.” She sped up to brush past him and continued her walk home. Please don't follow me. Please don't ask me questions. I don't want to lie to you.
“No! I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” Acton followed her and put one hand on her shoulder to slow her pace. “I thought it was awesome,” he said.
“You did?” Ayita stopped walking and looked up at his eyes.
“Yeah, I mean, if I were you, I probably would’ve left, too.”
She put one hand on her hip. “Why’s that?” she asked.
“You always finish after one section,” he said. “You have to be the smartest one in our class, maybe even the smartest one on the planet, so why wouldn’t you deserve a morning off now and then?”
“I came back during the next section,” she said. “It wasn’t like I completely skipped out.”
“Yeah, but it must be nice to know you have that option. If I skipped the first section, most days I’d be there through the third.”
“I suppose.” Ayita sighed. After years of never saying so much as a friendly hello, suddenly he wanted to be her friend. Her stunt seemed to him an act of minor rebellion, but how would he react if he knew the truth? He would resist it, and then he would avoid her rather than simply ignore her. But, not knowing the truth, he thought her act of leaving was “awesome.” Ayita rolled her eyes again and started to walk away, but not as briskly as before.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
Yes, she thought, but she said nothing.
“It’s okay to be different, you know.”
Ayita stopped once more and turned to look at him. “Is it?” she asked.
Acton nodded, stepping close to her again.
“And what do you know about being different?” Ayita crossed her arms.
“I know that I am, and I think you are, too,” he said.
“And what makes you different?”
“I want something that I’m not supposed to have.”
“Like what?” she asked, uncrossing her arms and relaxing her shoulders. She almost smiled. Perhaps he, too, desired to go swimming, to dance, to paint.
Acton closed his eyes and quickly leaned down toward her, pressing his lips to hers while loosely holding her arms.
Ayita pulled away and looked into his eyes. “Please don't do that again.” Her heart was racing. She knew that kind of affection was supposed to wait until after a husband was chosen for her and they were wed. Suddenly her first kiss was gone, and she knew she would never get it back. It was important to her. She valued her purity and intended to keep it.
“It’s okay to be different, right?”
“It's okay to be different,” she said. “But don't kiss me.” His hands were still on her arms, close to her shoulders. She wanted to shake him loose and run home. She wanted to cry. Their faces were close still, too close. Ayita brought her hands up to remove his, and stepped backward.
He moved as if he might step forward, but stopped. “You didn't like it,” he said.
“You should have asked, first,” she told him. “That wasn’t yours to take.”
“And if I’d asked?”
“I would have said no.”
Acton sighed. “I thought you were different from all the other girls.”
“I am,” she said, “but it doesn't mean that I have to like kissing you.”
“In what ways are you different, then?”
“If I told you, you would reject me more than I rejected the kiss,” Ayita said, and she started to walk away.
“No I wouldn’t,” he said, following her.
“Believe me, you would.”
“Please tell me.”
“Someday,” she promised, “we’ll both know for sure how you’d react. It isn’t today.” She continued walking, and he stopped following her.
Aira was waiting on the porch when she got home. She stood and stepped closer. “Where were you?” she asked. Her voice was soft, concerned.
“I went back to class.”
“Oh, good!” Her face lit up for a second, and she walked with Ayita into the house. “But…why did you leave?” She frowned, turning to look her friend in the eye. “Does this have anything to do with that book you found?”
Ayita sighed. Lying about it would only prove the influence of her library to be a bad one. She made the decision in this
moment that no matter the risks, she refused to ever tell another lie to anyone. “Yes,” she said. “I left because I wanted some time to think.”
“To think about what?”
“You wouldn't understand, Aira.”
“You still believe the book, don't you? I knew it.”
“Be honest with me, Aira. Do you really not believe any of it? Do you really think all those images and words were fabrications, lies?”
Aira thought about it, and didn't answer her.
“It's okay,” Ayita said. “You don't have to answer that. I know it's an unfair question. To admit you believe in Earth would be to put yourself at risk.”
“Why do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Put yourself at risk.”
Ayita thought for a moment before answering. “Aira, there are things in this world, and outside this world, that neither of us can explain. I want to know what they are. I want the explanations. If you can't handle that, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.”
“You know what they're going to do to you, right? They're going to send you to that place. You know they will. Sooner or later.”
“So be it,” Ayita said. “It won't change anything.”
“You need to get ahold of yourself Ayita. You need to stop all this craziness and think about what you’re doing, what you’re saying. You need to stop—“
“—being different?” Ayita interrupted.
“Yeah. Being different. It's scary.”
“It shouldn't be.”
“Well it is.” Aira looked away, and sighed. “The truth is, Ayita, I don't care about Earth. I don't care whether it did exist or didn't exist. What I care about is you. I'm concerned about you Ayita.”
“Why should you be concerned?”
“You know why.”
Ayita nodded. “Don't worry about it,” she said. “I'll be fine.”