by Martha Adele
“Hey,” I say as I sit across from them.
“Hey! Hi, Logan!” Mandy swipes the notebook out of Janice’s grasp and plops it into her own lap. “Hey, man! How’s it going?”
Janice raises one eyebrow and looks to Mandy. “That wasn’t suspicious at all.” Mandy darts her eyes back at Janice.
“So …” I fold my hands and lean forward to peek over the table. “What’s that?”
Mandy’s fake smile fades as she eases up and places the book back onto the table. “Logan.” She looks to Janice, then back to me with an unsure look on her face. “Do you know anything about Mavis’s background?”
“Background?”
“Yes,” Mandy confirms, “like her homelife.”
“Um … yeah. She lives with her dad. Her mom and brother died a while back. Why?”
Janice folds her hands on the table and leans forward. “How did they die?”
“I don’t know exactly.” I look past Janice and Mandy to the large groups of people shuffling across the room. I can’t see Mavis or the others. “She just told us that there was an accident.”
Mandy and Janice look at each other with a look that I am unfamiliar with.
“Did Mavis ever show any signs of anxiety when she talked about her dad?” Janice asks. “Did she ever scratch herself or try to avoid eye contact when the topic of family came up?”
I think back to every time I mentioned Gramps or Sam mentioned his mom. I think back to the times we talked about our family, and she would change the subject or ignore it completely and remain silent. I think back to when Sam and I talked about how we want to help save our family from Bestellen, and Mavis just stayed quiet. Every time the topic of family came up, she scratched her arm, averted eye contact, and ignored the subject.
“She doesn’t like to talk about her family.” I look from Janice to Mandy and ask once again, “Why?”
The two look to each other for a moment before Mandy opens up the notebook and slides it over to me. On the open page is a sketch of a small wooden shack. In the background, there are other out-of-focus houses that are about the same size as this shack but aren’t nearly as well drawn. There are trees growing around, over, and through the houses and one large one right beside the main shack that takes up most of the page. The front of the house has a small overhanging roof over an even smaller patio, all wooden. Beside the open doorway lies a broken and dirty window, which I barely notice because I am too focused on the black figure standing in the doorway.
“What’s this?” I look from the sketch to Mandy, who is picking at her nails. “What does this have to do with—”
Mandy swipes the book from out in front of me and shoves it back into her bag. “Mavis is coming.”
I look over to the line of people as they walk back to us and see John smiling and talking with Mavis. He walks her over to the table and nods to me just before he walks off and sits with a few of his associates.
Mavis comes around the corner of the table and sits beside me with a kind smile as large as can be. “Good morning, Logan.”
I smile back to her, trying not to seem too obviously distracted by Mandy and Janice’s sketch. “Good morning, Mavis.” John sits a few tables over from us, but I can still see him eating his food and glancing over to our table every now and then. “So why isn’t Commander Young sitting with us? He was here earlier.”
“Oh … um …” Janice clears her throat and straightens her posture. “He can’t sit with us when you’re here due to him being your commander. He is required to keep a professional distance.”
Professional? What’s professional about flirting with and making eyes at an eighteen-year-old girl when you are almost twice her age? Nothing at all.
Sam careens out of the large crowd, looking slightly irritated. He holds his tray close to his body as he makes his way over and plants himself beside Mavis. “Thanks for waiting for me, Mave.”
She holds one finger up to cover her mouth as she chews. Then she swallows the food and chuckles, “I’m sorry! John told me to ‘come on,’ so I did.”
“Yeah, yeah”—Sam rolls up his sleeves—“no big deal.” He looks from his food to Mavis with a joking expression. “This time.”
Mavis nods. “Got it. Last time.”
The two chuckle as they dig into their food, leading the rest of us to become hungry just by looking at it. I see my chance to get Janice and Mandy alone and take it. “Do you guys want to go get food?”
Mandy and Janice nod as the three of us rise. We make it about twenty feet from our table when that group of girls a few years younger than me ambush Janice. It’s the same group of girls that were staring at Sam and me the first day.
“I’ll catch back up in a bit.” Janice waves us off while she immerses herself into the group of girls. “Go ahead.”
Mandy takes no time and marches forward.
“Hey!” I scurry after Mandy, who is refusing to look at me. “Mandy, Hey!” I grab her arm and turn her to face me. “What was that a drawing of?”
She looks away from me and down to my free hand. “Do you always pop your fingers when you’re anxious?”
“What?” I loosen my hand, which has been popping its own knuckles. “Why?”
“I’ve noticed that everyone has a sort of … tick.” She pulls free of my loose grip on her arm. “Yours is to fiddle with your fingers.” She turns around and heads to the end of the line. “And to sometimes blink funny.”
“Mandy, what did that drawing have to do with Mavis?”
Taking a deep breath, Mandy turns back to me. “That picture was drawn by Mavis last night.” She crosses her arms. “I told her that drawing could help soothe her and help her recoup from nightmares.”
“Okay. And?”
“Well, that black figure you saw?” Mandy pulls the journal out of her bag and flips through the pages to Mavis’s sketch. “Here, look.”
I glance over it, then back to Mandy.
“What do you see?” she asks me.
I look back to the picture. The black figure is a perfect silhouette of a man standing in the doorway. His head is tilted down, looking at something he holds in one of his hands. From the shape of it, it looks to be a bottle.
“A man with a bottle,” I answer.
She closes the notebook and slides it back into her backpack. “Logan, what do you think that it means? The man with a bottle?”
I shrug, getting slightly annoyed with Mandy for not spitting it out already. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I have a pretty good guess.”
“How?” I step aside and pull Mandy with me. “How do you know any more than me?”
“The class I am majoring in is psychology. Long story short, my best guess by looking at this picture is that Mavis’s dad is a drinker.”
A few people pass us by and make the breakfast line even longer. I set aside my stomach’s growling and focus on her words. “How do you know? How do you know it isn’t just a drawing?”
“Janice agrees. She had to study psychology in order to be a teacher, and she agrees.” Mandy looks around and jumps in the back of the line. “One of the things we learn is how to analyze handwriting, art, and words. This fits right into what I have learned.”
“What …” I take a moment. Everything Mandy says sinks in. All of the signs that Mavis has been having trouble at home have been obvious, but I never asked. I never cared enough to ask. “What else did you get from that picture?”
Mandy shakes her head. Never before have I seen her this serious. “Mavis may … um … have been abused.” She turns back to me. “Don’t hold me to that! I said ‘may have.’ I don’t know for sure. But from what I have learned, it is very likely, according to her picture.”
“Logan.” Mandy meets my eyes. She glares at me and holds up the line of people behind us. “You have to
promise me that you won’t say anything. The only reason I told you is because you, Sam, and Mavis are all best friends.”
I look back behind us to our table, where Mavis and Sam talk with each other. Mavis looks about as happy as I have ever seen her. Is it because this is the longest she has ever been away from her dad? Is it because she is finally free from an unsafe home?
“Can I at least tell Sam?” I ask her.
“No. Not yet.” Mandy pulls me forward in the line. “I just want you to be aware and look for signs if you can. Don’t bug her about it, though.”
I nod.
“Promise? You won’t say anything unless she says something about it?”
I nod again. “Yes, I promise.”
Janice comes over to Mandy and me, laughing her head off. When she finally catches her breath, her face is red as a tomato. “Sorry about that.” She straightens her posture, and we all move forward in the line. “Those girls crack me up. I miss having them in my class.”
Mandy loosens her face and allows it to go back to its normal overly joyed expression. “What’d they want?”
“They—” Janice bursts into laughter once again. “They wanted to know …” She composes herself and looks over to me. “They wanted to know how old you and Sam are.”
“What?” I ask.
“Yeah, they were wondering why they had never seen you or him before. When I told them that you guys had come from Bestellen, they got so excited.” She chuckles again, adding, “One girl actually said, ‘Oh my goodness! They must be so strong to have made it through those woods!’ The others all agreed and began ogling over you guys.”
I look over my shoulder to three of the girls who are standing by their table. Two of them see me looking at them and give me little waves.
Mandy laughs. “Logan, you’re blushing.”
“No I’m not!”
“Yeah you are!” We all step forward in the line and grab trays. Mandy continues, “You are totally blushing! Do you fancy one of those young ladies?”
“No, I don’t.” Not one of the ones from that table.
Mandy scoots over to me and playfully pokes me in the arm. “Then why are you blushing?”
“Maybe because you are embarrassing me?” I look Mandy in the face. “Ever think of that?”
Janice’s mouth gapes as she laughs at the two of us.
Mandy turns from me, blushing. She hands hers tray to the lady who was to serve our breakfast and smirks. “Touché, Logan …”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sam
The kids sitting behind me have just stopped talking about Henry …
And started talking about me.
I can feel the whispers and stares without even looking at them. I try to ignore them and focus on Janice, who has just changed the screen to our next assignment.
“Everyone, get into groups of four. I want each group to make two columns and list true Amiable beliefs versus Diligent beliefs. I don’t mean what Bestellen does. I mean the true beliefs that Bestellen claims to follow. The group with the most factual beliefs listed by the time the timer goes off wins. Go ahead and start.”
Everyone in the room scrambles together to get into their groups. Henry hops up from his seat and runs over to us, slamming down a piece of paper on Mavis’s desk. “Do you guys want to be in my group?”
We all look to one another and send a mixture of shrugs and nods. Henry gives us a large smile and gets to work. He draws a line down the middle of the page and writes in large letters “Amiable” on one side and “Diligent” on the other. He starts scribbling down lists of beliefs on each side as the three of us watch.
Mavis looks over to me with an amused smile, then back to Henry. “Do you want us to help?”
Without looking up from the paper, Henry continues to scribble. “Well, with all due respect, I think I know more on this subject than any of you.” He looks up and slides it over to Mavis. “But if you want to help, feel free.”
Mavis’s eyes grow as she takes the pencil from Henry. “No pressure there,” she chuckles as she looks down to the list and jots something under the “Amiable” section. “They supposedly belief in free health care.”
“Right.” Logan leans over the back of his chair and points at that same column. “And they believe everyone should make the same amount of money.”
“And that everyone should be treated equally,” I add.
Mavis continues to scribble things under the “Amiable” column as I look around to see the rest of the students huddled over one desk per group. They loudly shout things that need to go on the lists, not even considering the fact that we could steal their answers.
“Wow!” Henry watches Mavis quickly fill up the “Amiable” side with different facts. “You guys are doing great. Much better than I thought you would.” Logan and I shoot Henry a look. He throws up his hands and waves them at us. “No no no! I didn’t mean it like that. I think you guys are very smart. I just meant that you haven’t been in schooling as long as I have.”
“We know,” Logan chuckles. “It’s fine, Henry.”
Mavis slides the list back to Henry, who skims over everything she had just written. “This is great.” He takes the pencil back from Mavis and continues scribbling down facts much faster than expected. Henry fills up the whole front page with facts and starts writing more on the back page in the “Diligent” column.
“You know, it’s impressive enough that you are in this class as young as you are, but combine that with your writing speed?” Shaking my head, I lean back into my chair. “Henry, you are very impressive.”
“Thank you.” Henry, without looking up from the paper or ceasing to write, clears his throat. “I have been told that a lot.”
We sit there in silence for a moment, listening to the other kids in the class shout answers at one another. The really obnoxious kids all grouped together, forming the alpha bully. I can see a few of them looking over their shoulders back at our group as if they have something they want to say.
“So how are you guys adjusting to life in Bergland?” Henry asks us, never shifting his focus from the paper.
I look to Logan and Mavis. Logan looks down to his hands and continues to rub his fingernails. “It’s nice.” He looks up from his fingers and over to the screaming kids on the other side of the room. “I miss my family, though.”
I nod in agreement. “Me too. I miss my mom.”
Logan and I look to Mavis for an answer. She takes a moment and keeps her focus on Henry’s spasming hand as it scribbles. “I like it,” she says. “Sure, I miss the fresh air, the sun, and going outside. But this is the first time in a long time that I get to have three meals a day and more than two sets of clothes.”
We sit there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the shouting kids. Mavis breaks our silence with a question that has been on all of our minds. “When do you think is the next time we will get to go outside?”
Henry, still scribbling, answers, “When Bergland launches ground attacks.” He sits up straight and looks his list over. “Which, at this point, I doubt will ever come.”
My heart drops. Just thinking about being trapped in this mountain for the rest of my life while Mom is stuck in Bestellen makes my stomach turn.
Henry adds one more thing to the Diligent side of the list and shrugs. “The war has been going on for such a long time now that the bombings don’t even faze me anymore. The only real reason I try to hold on to hope is because of the view.”
“The view?” Logan asks.
“Yes. The outside of the mountains. I hear they are beautiful from the outside.”
As the timer goes off, Janice rises to her feet. “Pencils down! Pass them up!” Henry immediately slaps his pencil down onto the desk. He hands his paper up to Janice and sits back into his seat right next to Logan.
Ja
nice takes the paper from him and gives him a smile and a nod. “Thank you, Henry.”
Henry’s face blushes slightly as he sings back to her, “You’re welcome, Mrs. Ludley!” She walks past him to the other groups. The three of us all look to one another, smiling. It is about as obvious as could be that Henry has a crush on Mrs. Ludley.
Janice takes up all of the papers as the rest of her students scurry to their seats. “Okay, talk among yourselves while I check these.”
The kids erupt in chatter. Henry turns back and flashes us with a large and goofy smile. “Usually, those who win Mrs. Ludley’s little competitions like this get homemade tarts!”
“A tart?” Logan chuckles.
“Absolutely positively the all-time best food I have ever eaten in my life.” Henry flails his arms in excitement. “And you know what? Mrs. Ludley has mastered the art of tart baking!”
At her desk, Janice pulls out a red pen and writes something on the papers she has just collected. Still confused by the lack of explanation Henry gave us, I shift my focus back to him. “What exactly is a tart?”
“A combination of a multitude of things. Ranging from some of our genetically modified plants to things as simple as cane sugar. Nonetheless, it is amazing.” Henry pushes his glasses back up onto his face. “And pretty rare too. You have to have access to a kitchen to make them or have a lot of credits to buy them.”
I think back to Bouw, where almost everyone had a kitchen of some sort. Almost everyone was able to cook and make their own food, but here in Bergland, only a select few can. With the credits you earn after you join their workforce, you can buy your own room and whatever you want to have in it. You can even buy multiple rooms and make your own little house, but people here have no need to buy their own kitchen supplies. They are provided free food until they finish schooling and are forced to join the workforce. By then, they are used to being fed, so they will probably keep going to the kitchens and buy food.