Divided

by Kaesey Stobaugh

  I leave my room to go see what my family has been up to all day. Father’s in the study working on some last minute government projects. I walk past him quickly, not wanting to interfere. I stop at the window in the back of the house next to the French doors and watch Mother supervising the gardeners who are planting a new tree. She looks flustered and I’m not surprised, that garden is her life. Our family is well known for having the most impressive garden in town and I think Mother would lie down and die if she ever lost that title. Georgie’s sitting on the floor leaning over our coffee table with many sheets of paper and a box of crayons in front of her. I guess we had the same idea. She looks up when she hears me come in and gives me a ridiculous, squinty eyed grin.

  “What’cha working on?” I lean over her shoulder to see. It’s some kind of animal that walks on four legs; I’m not sure which one.

  “It’s a cat, see!” She’s immediately excited to have an audience.

  “Wow, do you like cats?” I ask. I’ve never seen her show any interest in them before.

  “Yes! I went to my friend Penelope’s house yesterday when you were sick and she has a kitten.” She speaks systematically, like she’s giving me the weather forecast.

  “Ah, I see. So, you’re in a kitten mood?” I can already predict where this is heading.

  “Yup! And I think I’m going to ask Mother and Father for one because my birthday’s in a few days.” I feel bad for her. She looks like she really believes she’ll get one.

  “Now, Georgie, you know how Mother feels about animals,” I start.

  “I know! But I figure if it’s just a little kitten, maybe she won’t mind so much. Cats are quiet and really easy to take care of.” I smile at her sympathetically. I’m not going to be the one to tell her. Mother has always had something against animals, I’m not really sure why and she’s never been anxious to share. She just doesn’t like them.

  “Come on, why don’t we play checkers?” I offer. She agrees and runs off to get the board and pieces. Again, in my head I see her in rags and hungry, being dragged off to work in some factory for the rest of her life. That’s not just my worst nightmare, that’s some people’s reality. The very idea makes me sick and I have to try to pull myself back together when she returns, full of joy as always.

  When night falls and I start to get tired, I begin the trek up the stairs, but stop when I hear voices coming from Father’s study. I listen in and realize it’s Georgie making her kitten petition to our parents. I continue on my way, wondering how they’ll manage to say no to that face.

  Tonight, sleep evades me, but I’m getting used to that. There’s so many problems that I wish I could fix, sleeping seems like a terrible waste of my time. Not that I’m doing much good on those problems when I’m not sleeping. What’s my plan? For now, we’ll continue these secret meetings and I’ll continue being my secret self. But what about later, when something happens, as it’s bound to eventually? We can’t keep living without a complaint in a world that’s this messed up. But how do we fight them? We don’t have a plan, or people to rally behind us. Will we die living in the same world we were born into without ever doing a thing to try to make it better? What if we’re not the only ones who have noticed? Maybe there are others out there, on both sides that are ready to change things, but just like me, they believe they are alone. There’s no way to find out, is there? It’s very late before my eyes close for the last time that night.

  Today went by in a blur of trying to act normal and not look at clocks. But I’ve discovered something that annoys me; there’s nothing worse than having to allow yourself to be put into a nightgown and get into bed when you’re fully aware that you’ll have to put it all back on and get up in a little while. But, of course, it’s necessary for secrecy. I wait a few miserable hours before stepping into a sturdy dress and pulling my boots on. I leave my hair alone; I don’t want to deal with it right now. But now, it’s time to leave.

  I’m out the door in record time; I’m getting good at this sneaking out thing. The journey through town is short and effortless as I expect, but it’s only when I’m standing in front of the entrance to the woods that I realize I might have other problems. The Wall’s just straight back, right? I don’t remember taking any crucial turns of direction when traveling with Nate. Of course, I was a little fear swallowed at that point in time, so if he’d taken some specific path, would I have even noticed? Well, I’m not going to find out if I keep standing here. I step into the opening of trees and instantly feel like I’ve been swallowed whole. I’m suddenly amazed at how short my meager picture falls in comparison. How can something that sounds so simple be so complicated? I’m going to have to get it out again later and try to tackle the mood. I start walking directly forward, because I seem to remember that’s what we did last time. The trees are still moist even though it hasn’t rained in days, but it’s not sopping wet like it was the first time. As the minutes go by, my anxiety goes up. What if this isn’t the way? What if I took a wrong turn somewhere and didn’t realize it? What if I’m just going in circles? I can feel my heartbeat through my chest and it’s speeding like a pod. I know I’ve made a wrong turn. I’m going to be stuck in these woods for the rest of my life! I wonder if they’ll ever find my body after I die from starvation or dehydration or an animal attack. Probably not.

  Just when I’m about to start crying, the trees suddenly clear and I’m looking at the Wall. I can see the top of Nate’s dark head from where he’s perched on the fallen tree.

  “Nathan! You came!” Relief floods over me and I know I’m going to be okay. I stumble out into the clearing, awkwardly, and I know it.

  “I came? For a while I thought you stood me up!” He grins at me and I can see that he’s relieved too.

  “Here! I’ll put the ladder up for you.” I start to scan the small hiding space till I find the ladder right where we left it. He climbs down it with skill. He’s obviously in very good shape and every move he makes is graceful and has a purpose. I feel weak in comparison.

  When he’s on the ground next to me, we stare at each other for a moment. For the last few days it’s all been about making it to this moment, but now that it’s here, we understand that we don’t really know each other yet.

  “Let’s go sit over here.” I suggest, motioning to a log just outside of the clearing. He agrees and now we’re sitting together, face to face, wondering what we’re doing here.

  “Thank you, for coming back to talk to me.” I start.

  He nods. “I could use the company.”

  “Last time we saw each other, you said you didn’t really have friends…” I drift off, not really sure how to continue.

  “You want to know if it’s because I don’t like people or because people don’t like me, right?” To my relief, he seems to understand how my mind works. I nod hesitantly, not wanting to offend him.

  He sighs, letting his breath out slowly. “I just don’t have a lot of time for people outside my family. Besides, I don’t like a lot of the people that I meet. Not that I have time to talk, anyway.”

  “Don’t feel too left out, there are some crazies out there.” I laugh, thinking of some of my mother’s friends. To my surprise, he laughs too.

  “So, what’s it like on your side? I mean, I know what it looks like, but what is it like to live there?” He looks genuinely curious and not like he just wants to judge me for living well.

  I think about it. What is it like? “It’s comfortable. But I’ve always found it very…material. And trivial. Nothing ever matters but silly things like people’s gardens and who wore what to which event. I never understood that. I always thought that surely if you looked hard enough you could find things that matter. It looks like I was right. What about on your side?”

  He ponders what his life is for a few seconds. “Work.” He says finally. “Hard, intense, physical labor all the time. Permanent exhaustion, never feeling well rested, always worrying about what I’ll do after I finish this job.
Having a family that you love and who makes it all worth it, but rarely getting to see them. It’s not…fun, for sure.” He looks up at me and meets my eyes. I feel like I’ve just jumped into a bottomless pool, I don’t know how I’m going to get out, and maybe I never will.

  “How do you keep going?” I know the answer to this question, but I feel like he needs to say it.

  He shrugs, but with no hesitation, he answers, “The girls. Every moment I get with them makes living better. But just knowing that what I’m doing is keeping them alive is enough. I could never stop taking care of them.”

  “Don’t most families have most of the kids working in the factories?” I’ve been wondering about this and now seemed a good a time as any to ask.

  “Usually, yes. Some families just get lucky and no one’s taken from them or, not for a while. It’s only a matter of time though. Someone’s always taken away at some point. It’s all about waiting your turn. I don’t know what I’d do if they took one of them away. Even Gabe.”

  “You know, they’re lucky to have you.”

  “Are they? Sure, I can work for them and hopefully keep them from starvation, but what can I do for them if they come to take them away? Nothing.”

  “They’re lucky because you love them so much. And they know that, even if they don’t see you as often as they want to. Love is extremely valuable.” He stares at me like he’s never realized that he’s doing so much good for them, just by caring. “You can’t change the world you live in magically, Nate. But you can make sure they know how loved they are. And I think you do that.” I smile at him and he smiles back.

  I’m glad we’re doing this, even if it is ridiculously dangerous. We’re making our world manageable.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nathan

  Is it possible to feel so close to someone you just met? I'm not close to my own mother, and I've known her my entire life. Yet I just met this strange girl and I feel connected to her. How is she doing that? It's just different with her. And right now, in my head, that can either be a good thing or it can be something very dangerous.

  I can't stand the picture I see of my sisters being dragged away. And though what Willa is saying about how they must be lucky to have me is true, I can't help thinking about how they'll be when I'm taken. I know the soldiers are coming and I know they'll get to me at some point. As time goes on, I learn more and more that I can only protect them for so much longer. Then I think about Gabe. If he's all they have then it's my job to make sure he's ready to take care of them. This is going to be a lot of work but I'm not thinking about that now. I've waited all week to talk to this girl again and I'm not wasting it by filing my head with worries.

  "It's funny...how different you see things." I state as I finally pull away from her stare.

  She repositions herself on the log we're sitting on and looks at the ground as if she's processing what I just said, and then her gaze comes back to me.

  "Different? Well, we live in very different places. Worlds, really. It's not easy trying to compare ourselves." She says as her eyebrows narrow, almost like she's questioning what she just said.

  I quickly realize that her answer was not the same as my question.

  "Well, that's not exactly what I meant." I say with a fake chuckle. She stares at me, waiting for me to explain.

  "I mean... I mean, I don't know much about your family yet but I can already tell you that yours is way different than mine."

  She seems confused. "Well yes, I'm sure that's true but-"

  I cut her off, "You see things from the way you've been raised. I could tell just by the little time I spent on your side that you’re loved very much by your family. For me, love doesn't really exist. Not on my side."

  I hate how I blurt that out. I can tell she's shocked and maybe she's feeling sorrow for me. But before I let her reply, I try to throw the whole subject away.

  "So, let's start with the basics. How old are you?" I ask her with a smile to let her know that I'm enjoying her company. I feel relief when she smiles again.

  "I'm sixteen.” She says shyly as she scoots a little closer to me, "And what about you?"

  "Seventeen’s a charm." I say, "It’d be nice to go backwards though. I wouldn't mind being a kid again. Those were the best years, you know?"

  "Yes! I have so many great childhood memories." She exclaims, I can tell she's getting excited.

  "Go on then, I'm ready to be entertained." I say with a half-smile. She looks like she might refuse but gives in.

  She talks about her family and her childhood house. She tells me about her younger sister, Georgianna –but they all call her Georgie– and how she's full of spunk. The more she talks about her, the more I like her. She reminds me of Cinda. Georgie and Cinda would be good play mates even though she and Gabby are actually the same age. She tells me stories of her family trips and gatherings. She tells me about the games she would make up with her sister and how they never got in trouble for anything. She tells me her favorite things and what she likes to do. To me, the most fascinating thing she does is drawing and how she just got into it again recently. I've always liked art work and it sounds like Willa’s got a hand for it.

  "There's this older women down a little ways from my house, and she has an incredible gift with art. I've seen her painting from her front deck. She's really good and I find her art very warming." I tell her and watch her eyes light up.

  “What does she do with her work?”

  I shrug, “Sell it, I guess. Though I can’t really imagine who on my side would buy it. As much as I like looking at art, no offence, but it’s kind of worthless.”

  She nods once, “Maybe she sells it on my side.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but I swallow back the words I was going to use. I change the subject instead.

  She tells me her talents and her weaknesses. She's not very good at sports, she says. I can't imagine her lasting long out where I live. She tells me about her school, her friends, and a very specific friend she has, Mia, and how she's known her since they were young. I can't imagine putting up with someone for that long. Someone who isn’t your family, that is.

  Every now and then she stops as if she's uncomfortable talking about herself so much, but I edge her on. Her life is much more interesting than mine and I don't have any stories to tell. No good ones anyway. She tells me her favorite books and authors, but I've never heard of any of them. I'm reluctant to tell her I've never read a book before. She seems so passionate about them.

  She tells me how her first trip into the forest was when I dragged her along behind me the other night. That almost knocks me over. I've been in the forest since I could walk. I can't get away from it.

  I'm so content just sitting here listening to Willa’s smooth, clean voice talking about her life, I don't even realize that we've been out here almost three hours. Suddenly, she jumps up and looks frantic.

  "What time is it?" She asks me, clueless.

  "Well, judging on the light of the darkness, it's probably past midnight." I reply, relaxed. I've got nowhere to be, this isn't an issue for me. But I can tell by her face that it's a big problem for her.

  "I should've been back a long time ago. I hope they didn't go check on me." She stands there, staring into the dark forest as if it's gonna eat her alive. I feel like it's not my place to say anything. I can't really relate with this feeling she's having, so I stay quiet until she turns around and takes a deep breath.

  "Well...this has been nice. And I look forward to next week, Mr. Ambers!" She says with a bit of a bow.

  I stand up to meet her eyes. "Yeah, it's been nice."

  She takes a step back and smiles at me. "I need to go. I don't want to get caught." She states obviously. We both laugh a little as I nod in agreement.

  "I guess I'll see you next week then?"

  "Definitely!" Her eyes light up which leads me to believe that she's not acting.

  I go to shake her hand because I don't know any other
way to part. She giggles and shakes mine back. I start for the ladder.

  "Do I need to stay and hide it for you?" She asks in a helpful voice. I can't help but smile at her offer.

  "No, I got it. Thanks though."

  She smiles and heads for the forest. I climb up the ladder, feeling successful. But suddenly it hits me. Leila! The medicine! I forgot to ask!

  I jump off the ladder, almost hitting a tree nearby. Willa has already disappeared into the darkness. The last thing I want is to walk into that stalking wood, but I have no choice. I run after her, trying not to think about the eyes watching me from a distance.

  "Willa!" I call out, "Willa, wait!" She's not too far ahead of me when she turns around, "I forgot. I have to ask you something!" I say, a little out of breath.

  She smiles. She seems delighted that I would run her down to ask her a question. I like this face and I hope it stays but I know it won't. I think for a moment about how to ask. Then it just comes out in the best way it can.