Stealing Liberty

by Jennifer Froelich

  At meal times the cafeteria is silent except for the scraping of spoons against plates. Curfew is tightened, forcing us to hurry back to our rooms after dinner.

  But for all we do to make ourselves invisible, we do not succeed. Haak is constantly dragging someone off to Kino’s office. Oliver’s been there twice already, emerging with bloody lips, swollen eyes, and his indestructible cheerfulness intact.

  “Just think what I’d look like if she knew the truth,” he said after his second beating.

  We’ve only shared a few words in passing. None of us dares to test Sam’s evasion program now or to visit the Hidden Library. We’re too afraid of being watched. Too afraid of being discovered and losing our treasures.

  Our curfew means no time for cleaning or laundry. Within a week, our clothes stink. In another week, an outbreak of lice has spread through the entire student body, even the Short Timers. Kino’s expression is triumphant when she lines us up in the courtyard and orders Vardelos to get his shears. One by one, we are shaved. In a barrel nearby, Haak burns our hair and every hat made by Xoey and her volunteers.

  I see no one for the rest of the day because I can’t bear to look up.

  Late that night, I lay on my bunk, gripping the metal frame to keep from touching my bald head. My tears are hot and thick, knotting in my throat until I feel Xoey’s hand on mine, reaching across the narrow gap between our beds.

  “It’s only hair,” I whisper.

  Her grasp tightens. I don’t hear her cry, but I feel it, shuddering down her arm and through her fingers. She doesn’t let go until we both fall asleep.

  I know I’ve been lucky. No one knows it was Reed and I who lit the fire and raised the flag. Kino hasn’t summoned me to her office for questioning or even looked my way as far as I can tell. I keep my head down like everyone else and think about nothing beyond what’s right in front of me. It’s the easiest way to get past the hole in my heart. A hole telling me Zak is dead, and there’s nothing I can do to change it.

  I feel it, but I don’t understand it. I don’t know why it matters so much. This world is messed up. People die all the time, some much nobler than the reckless kid who almost got me killed. I try to hold onto my anger, the dread of dying I’ve pretended I didn’t feel since the science lab exploded, but I fail. Reed doesn’t even make me mad anymore.

  I feel the hole and nothing else.

  Another week passes and Kino begins to lose her fight. Maybe it helps when a fresh layer of snow covers the courtyard, or when a new UDR flag flies once again from the flagpole. We reach the first day of February, and she leaves campus for her monthly meeting. I can see relief on Haak’s face as soon as she’s on the other side of the gate. He leans against the cafeteria wall and nods off. I say nothing, but raise my head for the first time in a week to meet Reed’s eyes, then Oliver’s.

  Tonight, they say.

  We all risk it. A brief meeting in the west laundry room while our filthy uniforms tumble together in the one working washing machine. It’s a legitimate excuse to be here. All evening, kids have been taking advantage of the lifted curfew to fill the other laundry room, hoping to get the stink out of their clothes. I lean against a broken machine, wrapped up in a stolen blanket. My hair is coming back in, a prickle that does little more than darken my bald scalp. When Oliver comes in, he puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he murmurs.

  I raise my eyes and smile. Xoey is smiling too, leaning against the machine across from me. She’s wearing a new hat (pink-and-green striped with a pink pom-pom on top). Paisley agreed to help her make more, but only if Xoey took the first one. Reed sits on the machine next to her, unusually meek without hair. My eyes sweep the room, finding Sam, Adam, and Paisley too.

  “Five more of us and we’d make a dozen eggs.” Oliver raps his knuckles against his bald head and everyone laughs. I hear steps on the stairs, and everyone quiets down while Adam steps outside to tell a new shell these washing machines are broken.

  “Except the one I’m using already,” he says. “But you’re welcome to wait.”

  The kid wanders off like they always do. When his footsteps recede, Reed turns to Sam.

  “What did you learn about the auction? Who bought the Liberty Bell?”

  “Shinzo Nakashima,” Sam says. “He’s on the board of directors at Mizuho Bank in Japan.”

  I think about the maps I’ve studied in the Hidden Library, trying to picture Japan. It’s an island nation on the other side of the Pacific, if I remember right. We’ve been taught plenty about ecosystems in our core classes, but never much geography.

  “What’s he want it for?”

  “He told the Japanese media the Bell will be a central piece in the lobby décor at the new Mizuho tower in Tokyo. It’s under construction. Supposed to be finished next summer.”

  “Lobby décor? Our Liberty Bell? Is he serious?”

  Sam shrugs.

  Oliver fidgets, as usual. “Did they already fly it overseas?”

  “No. They aren’t going to,” Sam says. “I tracked down the bill of sale and shipping instructions. It will be shipped by freight train to the Western Sand in late April or early May. From there, it will travel by sea to Japan.”

  “Weird,” Adam says. “I wonder why not by air?”

  “Nakashima has a reputation for not trusting air freight ever since an Islamic State surface-to-air missile took out a plane bound for Tokyo two years ago,” Sam says. “Plus, he’s in no hurry. It will still get there way before he needs it.”

  Oliver turns to Xoey. “Did you find the quote engraved on the Bell?”

  “Yes.” She scrolls on her tablet. “But what’s written on the Bell…well, it’s not the whole verse, or even the whole sentence. The whole thing says: ‘And you shall consecrate the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants.’”

  “The fiftieth year?” Reed says. “Five-oh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like the UDR’s fiftieth anniversary this spring?”

  “There’s more,” Xoey says. “It says, ‘It shall be a Jubilee for you, when each of you shall return to his property and each of you shall return to his clan.’” She puts down the tablet.

  I pull my blanket around my shoulders. “What’s a Jubilee?”

  Xoey shrugs. “A celebration? Also, a kind of homecoming or family reunion, I guess. When property was sold, maybe it was supposed to revert back to its original owner?” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure I understand it all.”

  Oliver runs his hand over his chin. “Well, that’s kind of an interesting coincidence, isn’t it? The UDR is celebrating fifty years too, but they’re not returning anything. Instead they’re selling off our history to the highest bidder.”

  Reed is frowning. Something brews behind his eyes. “You said the Bell will travel by freight train?”

  Sam nods.

  “From Old Philly to the Western Sand? Any chance it will pass on these tracks?” He points north. “Right by the House?”

  Sam shrugs and bends over his tablet, tapping and swiping with sure fingers. Finally he raises his eyes. “It’s possible. There are a couple routes from Philadelphia to San Francisco still passable since the Yellowstone landslide, and this one hasn’t been bombed by rebels. Not yet, anyway.”

  Reed jumps down from the washing machine and starts pacing. “Is there a way to hack the transportation system? To make sure it comes this way? And to figure out when it will pass the school?”

  “Probably,” Sam says.

  “Even if we do, the Bell will be crated and traveling by pretty fast,” Paisley says. “Not much to see.”

  Reed stops pacing and his eyes lock with mine. My heart turns over. I somehow know what he’s thinking and, for the first time, the hole left by Zak’s death feels like it might heal.

  “I don’t want to see it,” he says. “I want to steal it.”

  The Heist

  C
hapter 28

  Reed

  * * *

  I bend over the fountain and scrub off chunks of broken plaster with a wire brush. My arms ache and the afternoon sun beats down, blistering my scalp. My scant hair is as bristly as the brush, offering no protection. Sweat drops in my eyes, stinging them. I wipe my brow, thinking dark thoughts about the person who cut down the trees and darker ones about the person who cut our hair.

  I swear, it’s like I’m thinking out loud.

  “Hair grows back,” Kino says nearby.

  She isn’t looking at me, but at several girls who kneel by the admin building, digging weeds out of long-neglected flowerbeds. Their hair is like mine. Riley is among them, bent over and digging in the dirt.

  The president’s public relations secretary, Yvonne Middlebrooks, stands at Kino’s side, clucking with disappointment. “Yes, but not fast enough!” Her voice is loud and nasal, as if she is trying to push each syllable through her nostrils. “Wanda! What were you thinking?”

  Kino presses her lips together, but Middlebrooks isn’t waiting for a response. She’s reaching for her high-end Flexi Plexi tablet to record another memo. It’s something she’s done over and over since first visiting the House last month — talk to her tablet like it’s a person named Memo.

  “Memo, consult a dietician. Do these kids need more protein or what? Skinny is fine, but their skin and ugh! Their hair.” She sighs, patting her own hair even though it’s as dull as dishwater, much like her drab wardrobe. Kino looks like a peacock standing next to her.

  “Consult a hairdresser,” Middlebrooks adds. “Or, better yet, a wig maker.”

  I lower my head and focus on the fountain. Sam kneels across from me, his eyebrows shoved together as he tears apart the broken water pump, looking for pieces to salvage. I bet he’ll have it working again before I have the cracks repaired and sealed. Nearby, Oliver, Adam, and Brock are digging holes and planting new trees — young ones, which won’t block cameras for years to come. Another crew is on the library roof, hammering shingles in place. More still are painting trim on the cafeteria. Xoey and Paisley plant flowers around the flagpole. It’s a job I don’t think I could stomach, but Xoey seems peaceful as she drops each flower into a hole and presses dirt against its roots.

  She’s found a way to honor Zak, I guess, even while following orders from the woman who killed him.

  Kino starts walking toward her office then stops, tapping her foot while Middlebrooks pauses near the library steps, talking again about the bunting she’s ordered, where the cameras will be set up and what time of day will make the school look best on screen. The day she arrived, the entire student body was assembled in the courtyard, where she talked for forty-five minutes about President Amaron’s fiftieth anniversary tour and the special events planned during his stop at Windmill Bay. Then she turned to practical matters, including the need for us all to work hard cleaning up the school.

  “Our resources are limited.” She paused, raising her eyebrows as if we were to blame for her budget. “All our improvements will be restricted to what is on this list.” She waggled her Flexi Plexi in the air. “There’s no need to waste energy or resources repairing anything not visible through the camera’s lens.”

  “Like the heating system,” someone muttered.

  “Or our filthy mattresses,” whispered someone else.

  I said nothing, but didn’t hide my amusement. I hear more grumbling among the student body every day. It’s music to my ears.

  Today Middlebrooks returns to the subject, pointing out areas where CGI will be used to mask the decay we can’t afford to repair.

  “So long as the finished product looks good, no one needs to know what I was up against.” She laughs, a noise even more grating than her voice.

  For a moment, Kino’s eyes meet mine, but then they narrow and pass on, unrelenting. I guess Oliver’s right. It’s going to take more than time to regain her trust — something I need desperately if my plan to steal the Liberty Bell is going to work.

  Kino has only called me to her office a few times since Zak’s funeral. Even then, she is different — not questioning me about students. Instead, I watch live feed of my mom pacing in her cell while Kino sits behind her desk, watching me or asking me random questions about my past. She hasn’t reinstated any of her aides or appointed new ones, provoking Monica to shift her loyalties. Now she hovers near Middlebrooks as often as possible.

  But Kino can’t manage it all with only Haak’s help, so she’s deputized Brock and Xu to patrol campus and search for signs of insurgency. They take full advantage, targeting new students for violence while continuing to terrorize old ones. Sam’s fresh bruises are evidence. Oliver, Adam, and I try to keep an eye on him, but Brock and Xu always find a way around us.

  Everything’s been different since Riley and I raised the American flag over Zak’s body — since Kino found out the courtyard cameras were turned off during all of it, and the Cit-Track system mysteriously failed her too. Add to that the mood of the students — not fear, like she hoped, but resentment. Lots of students are angry — even hostile. Kino keeps shipping off the most vocal ones to the labor camps, but it doesn’t subdue the rest like it did before. Kids are talking back in class, challenging teachers. Short Timers are targeted for ridicule and their numbers are dwindling.

  Then there’s the graffiti I see everywhere — carved on walls, toilet stalls, and tables. I swear, it’s even drawn in the dirt. It’s always the same symbol — a square in the top left corner with lines drawn next to it and beneath it. A simple representation of the American flag. It makes me proud, even though I had nothing to do with it.

  “Yes you did,” Oliver said. “You and Riley started this.”

  “So maybe Kino does suspect me.” I had just spent another frustrating hour in her office, watching my mom while Kino watched me.

  Paisley shook her head. “I doubt it. She would say something, right? Or do something to you? Why would you still be here if she knew? But it’s clear she’s unsettled. She’s questioning everything. Everything she knows, everything she thinks she knows.”

  “Which is why we need to act now,” Oliver said. “The clock is ticking. The train will be here in a month.”

  I rubbed my prickly head. “And you think your plan will work?”

  “It’s a good place to start.”

  Still, I’m not sure I’m ready.

  I set down my wire brush and focus on Riley. Her eyes are closed, but she’s smiling as a breeze passes over her shorn head. Before I can stop myself, I’m imagining it lifting the soft waves that once fell around her shoulders. She wipes her dirty hands on her uniform and stands up. Her eyes dart toward me then settle on Oliver and Adam, who have put down their shovels.

  I stand up and watch her cross the courtyard. When she reaches Adam, her eyelashes brush her cheeks and she blushes. He flashes his perfect teeth, then lifts her off her feet, swinging her around. They laugh like lovebirds until, finally, he sets her down. His hand touches her cheek and my heart pounds.

  This isn’t going to be so hard after all, I think.

  I take off at a run and knock Adam to the ground.

  We stand side by side in Kino’s office. Adam’s eye is swollen and my lip is bleeding. Neither of us pulled our punches.

  “This is about a girl?” Kino’s lips twist.

  Adam crosses his arms over his chest. I glare at him. We’ve agreed to say nothing if we can avoid it, which suits me fine. Playing the part of Riley’s jilted boyfriend in this drama was not my idea. Besides, losing something I never had to begin with makes me feel hollow. After a full minute of silence, Kino rises from her desk.

  “Fine. I can see I’ll have to question you separately.” She turns to Adam. “You. Wait outside.”

  Adam curls his lip at me then stomps out of the room. Either he’s intent on selling it or he truly doesn’t like me much. Can’t say I’m surprised.

  “Listen—”

  Kino rai
ses her hand. “I don’t need the details of your love life. But I won’t have it causing problems at my school. Especially with the president’s visit on the horizon.”

  I cross my arms and stare at the floor.

  “If you can’t coexist, maybe I need to separate you.”

  “Fine with me! Send Adam to work in the train yard or something — somewhere I don’t have to see his ugly face all day long.”

  “Honestly, Reed?” She shakes her head. “So petty.”

  “Whatever.”

  She rolls her eyes, then coils a strand of auburn hair around her finger while she thinks. “You’ve offered a solution that just might work, though I think I’ll send you to the train yard instead.”

  “What?” I try to hide it, but this is just what I want.

  “Adam is too valuable in the service garage. Meanwhile, Riley Paca…” She pauses and leans against her desk, crossing her arms and tapping one red nail against her sleeve. “Well, what do you say? Maybe I should just ship her off to a service ranch so she won’t be a source of any more temptation.”

  “No!” I expel the word like breath, squeezing my hands into fists to keep my voice even. “No. I’m over it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I swallow hard and shrug. “If she thinks someone like Adam is…well, it’s her loss, isn’t it? She’s not worth any more of my time.”

  For a minute she just studies me. I keep eye contact, my heart pounding while Riley’s fate hangs in the balance.

  “I don’t believe you,” Kino finally says. “Not your indifference anyway. Honestly, I feel like King Solomon arbitrating between two mothers. Did your father ever preach that story?”

  I shake my head, unable to find my voice.

  “Xoey’s always quoting her Bible at me. It’s annoying most of the time, but, I’ll admit, I’ve grown curious, so I read a few stories.” She shakes her head. “That one’s the strangest of all, don’t you think? A baby almost cut in half to settle an argument?”