Freakling

by Lana Krumwiede

  “Amma. Yes. That’ll be her name.”

  Taemon blinked in the sun. “How did you know about the hooks?”

  “Delightful design.” Challis chuckled. “Dogs. So appropriate. You’re making friends, aren’t you, dear? Skies know you needed them. Knife and Water. Yes, that will make a strong bond. The Water isn’t afraid of a Knife, you know. Water and Stone sharpen the Knife.”

  Even though he knew it was pointless, he couldn’t help but try to make sense of what Challis was saying. Knife and Water were birth signs, but why did she think Taemon was a Knife? “That’s nice, but I’m a Quake. Always have been.”

  Challis looked startled for a moment, and Taemon wished he hadn’t bothered to argue. He really should have kept walking.

  “Oh, dear. They wouldn’t have told you, would they? They were afraid for you, dear. The midwife was a friend of your mother’s, and . . . well . . . the birth certificate will not be quite correct. You’re a Knife, Thayer. A Knife if I ever saw one.”

  How would she know that? She couldn’t know. It wasn’t true. Challis was just a mixed-up klonky scarf lady. Arguing with her was useless. It was time to go.

  “Okay. Bye, Challis.” He smiled a smile that he didn’t feel and walked away.

  “Good-bye,” she called after him. “And remember to go around the back of the Water girl’s house. That’s the door you’ve been looking for.”

  He waved at her without looking back. He was not a Knife. Ridiculous! Yens was a Knife. If Taemon had been born a Knife, both of Mam and Da’s two children would have had the most unlucky of all twenty birth signs. And he would have been Thirteen Knife. Unthinkable! Mam would have had a nervous breakdown. And Da would have done something drastic. He would have . . .

  Would have done something clearly illegal like altering the birth certificate?

  Surely not.

  Still, how had Challis known about the hooks?

  Amma’s large stucco house was built up against the side of a craggy hill. In fact, the back part of the house seemed to melt into the hill. A covered porch had been built across the front and wrapped around the side of the house. The porch was filled with shelves and shelves, all crammed with pottery. That’s what her parents did — they made pottery from clay. Vases, mugs, plates, bowls, pitchers, even decorative artwork. They used their hands to make it, he’d been told. He couldn’t help shuddering a bit every time he thought about touching cold, wet clay.

  There was a dog on the porch, too. Snoring in a patch of sunlight in front of the door. Taemon hesitated. He wasn’t used to dogs and wondered how a person could tell if a dog was friendly or not. Hadn’t Challis said something about a door around the back? It couldn’t hurt to take a quick look, could it?

  He did find a door on the side, near the back. At this point, it was hard to tell where the house ended and the rocky hill began. The door almost looked like it went into the rock itself. But there was something else about this door. Something that wasn’t quite right. He peered at it more closely. Other than being old, it looked the same as all the other doors at the colony. A fat, clunky doorknob on one side, three hinges visible on the other side. Something was out of place even though he couldn’t name it.

  “Taemon? What are you doing?”

  Amma’s voice pulled him away from his thoughts. He smiled and waved, trying not to look as guilty as he felt. “Just . . . looking for the door.”

  “Well, the front door’s over here. In the front.”

  He nodded. “Cha, sorry. Remember me? Stupid city kid? I get confused.”

  “What, the front doors on city houses are around the back?” Amma cocked her head and gave him a sideways glance.

  “Well, no, but . . . anyway, I came over to show you this.” Taemon showed her the hooks. “I’m on my way to Marka and Enrick’s house to give it to them.”

  Amma’s face lit up. “They’re adorable!” She gushed over the hooks a bit longer, then her mood became serious. “I have to tell you something.”

  “What’s wrong?” Taemon asked.

  She hesitated. “Vangie heard some news . . . from the city. People are . . . are disappearing.”

  Taemon gripped the hooks tightly. “Disappearing? Who?”

  “I’m not sure. Vangie’s cousin didn’t say.” She shrugged. “What do you think it means?”

  “I have no idea,” Taemon said.

  On Taemon’s way back from Marka and Enrick’s, his head was teeming with uncomfortable thoughts. First Challis had told him he was a Knife, not a Quake, and that his parents had lied about that. He couldn’t bring himself to believe it and yet why would she make up something like that? On the other hand, how could she possibly know?

  And what Amma had said about people disappearing. That was definitely not good. What was happening in the city? What was the high priest up to? And what was Yens doing? He thought of how Mam and Da hadn’t been at Yens’s ceremony. Was it an act of protest, or had they been unable to attend?

  When he returned to Drigg’s workshop, the parts for the byrider were back from the blacksmith. He helped Drigg lay them out, though his mind was still unsettled.

  “Have you heard much about what’s happening in the city?” Taemon didn’t intend to ask the question, but his thoughts spilled out in words.

  Drigg glanced up with a puzzled look. “Just rumors. Mostly about the True Son. He’s sixty years old even though he looks sixteen. He can kill people by just looking at them. He has connections in the Republik. Who knows what to believe?”

  “Does it worry you?” asked Taemon.

  “Nah,” Drigg said. “None of that has anything to do with the colony. They’ve left us alone these two hundred years. Can’t think why it would change.”

  Taemon arranged the gears in order of size, lining them up on the sheet Drigg had laid down. “What about the Republik? Has anyone from the colony been there?” Taemon, like everyone in the city, knew nothing of what lay beyond the mountains. He wondered if the same was true of people in the colony. Not only was crossing the mountains treacherous, but the people of Deliverance were strictly forbidden from traveling to the Republik or having contact with Republikites.

  “Well, now, there’s a story in that. Years ago, a few brave souls — powerless people, mind you — ventured into the Republik. But the people there never have trusted psi folk, and even when powerless people try to explain that they don’t have psi, those Republikites, see, they don’t believe it. They figure that powerless is pretty easy to fake and impossible to prove. So they don’t allow nobody from this side of the mountains into their lands. Those poor wretches who tried it lost their lives. Save the one they sent back as a message. Nasty tale, that.”

  “Not one person has crossed the mountains in all those years?” Taemon asked.

  “So far’s I know. And no one has a mind to cross the ocean. We don’t have the resources to build such a ship, and I don’t know that the psi folk have the desire. Remember that Nathan was on the receiving end of a whole arsenal of persecution, and nobody wants to relive that.”

  Geography wasn’t something that was taught in the city; it wasn’t safe to travel much beyond the city walls, and everything they could ever need was close at hand, so Taemon had never really given much thought to what lay beyond the Republik. But suddenly he found himself curious. “Are there other countries, other republiks, out there?”

  Drigg shrugged. “No way to know.”

  Taemon fiddled with a gear. “So anything could be out there. Doesn’t that bother you, not knowing?” Taemon asked.

  “Not a lick. If it runs, don’t fix it — that’s the tinker’s creed. Now hand me that chain right there. And be careful!”

  Taemon hurried toward Amma’s house, dodging the first few drops of a rain shower. He’d promised to help Amma and Vangie with a puppet show for the schoolchildren, and Drigg had agreed to give him the day off. They’d been working on the byrider for a week now and making slow progress.

  Outside Amma�
��s place, Taemon saw her and Vangie struggling with a large box. He ran to help, taking the porch steps two at a time.

  “Let me,” he said, reaching for the box.

  “No, I’ve got this,” Amma said. “You go inside and get the other one. It’s bigger.”

  Taemon stepped through the open door. Inside, the room was homey and warm. A fireplace on one side, handmade braided rugs on the wooden floors, and furniture that looked well worn. But there was stuff everywhere. Potted plants in homemade ceramics. Children’s toys. An abandoned art project, complete with colored pencils scattered around it. Two, no three, musical instruments. And books. Several of them lying here and there, some stacked, some still open. Even one book on the floor, for Skies’ sake. Taemon had only laid eyes on a half dozen books in his lifetime. In the city, books were kept locked up in the guilds. Only a person studying for a specific profession could look at them. Even then, tradesmen were only allowed to see the books the guild leaders deemed necessary.

  Taemon couldn’t help picking up the book on the floor. Right on the cover was a picture of the inside of a human body with each part labeled. Heart! So that’s what it looked like. Lungs! Those were the breathing sacs he’d figured out in the sea cave. Esophagus! Did every home in the colony have books like this?

  A feeling of guilt filled his chest. Only healers should see these things. He placed the book facedown on the table. Quickly he found the box Amma needed, grabbed it, and rejoined the girls.

  “Great. Thanks,” Amma said. The three of them headed toward the school to set up the puppet show.

  “Want to hear some juicy city gossip?” Vangie said. “You won’t believe it. I didn’t believe it. But my cousin swears it’s true.”

  “What?” Taemon said.

  “The high priest is going to start trading with the Republikites. They’re going to send the True Son to meet with them,” she said in a rush. “Imagine! Trading with the Republik. I wonder what they wear. What exotic foods they eat. It’s so exciting!”

  “Hold on,” Taemon said. “When is this supposed to happen?”

  “Soon,” said Vangie. “They’re preparing things now.”

  Could it be true? Was Elder Naseph sending Yens into the Repbulik?

  Amma stopped. “Wait! Vangie, did we get the jungle backdrop?”

  Vangie frowned. “Didn’t you roll it up? I thought it was in the box.”

  “No, it wouldn’t fit.” Amma sighed and set down her box. “We’ll have to go back and get it.”

  Taemon glanced back at the house. “I’ll go get it. Can I use the back door? That’d be a lot closer.”

  “There is no back door,” Amma said.

  “Yes there is. I saw it.”

  “Oh, that.” Amma waved her hand like she was shooing a fly. “It hasn’t opened since before I was born.”

  “Is it locked?” Taemon asked.

  “No, just broken.” She frowned at him. “This isn’t the city. We don’t lock things up around here.” She looked at Vangie. “Can you carry this the rest of the way? It’s probably easiest if I go grab the backdrop.”

  “Sure,” Vangie said, taking sole hold of the box she’d been carrying with Amma. Just then, the rain started picking up. Taemon and Vangie quickened their pace.

  By the time they found the stage and started pulling puppets out of the boxes, Amma arrived. “Vangie, can you get this jungle backdrop up right away? Taemon, help me move this table to the center,” Amma said. “We’re on first.”

  Taemon picked up his end of the table. Together they shuffled toward the center of the stage, just behind the main curtain. “Maybe I could take a look at that door sometime,” Taemon said, watching Vangie hook the backdrop in place. “I bet I could fix it.”

  “That’s okay,” Amma said. “We never use it, so it doesn’t matter that it’s broken.”

  “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

  Amma dropped her end of the table with a loud thump. “Would you forget about the door already?” She blew her hair out of her face. “Come on, we’ve got to finish setting up.”

  Taemon and Vangie exchanged a look. “Sorry,” he muttered. Taemon tried not to think about the door. He had other things to worry about, like why the high priest would send Yens to trade with the Republik.

  They arranged the puppets under the table and then checked the backdrop one last time. On the other side of the curtain, the announcer called for quiet. The program was about to begin. More quickly than Taemon expected, the room quieted down.

  The curtain parted.

  “We’re on,” whispered Amma.

  The puppet show was an animal version of a story told in the scriptures. A jaguar gets caught in a trap, and none of the other animals want to help him. Amma was the narrator while Taemon and Vangie did the animals’ voices. He’d had great fun with the animal voices during their practices, but now he couldn’t concentrate. Why would Elder Naseph all of a sudden decide that trading with the outside world was a good idea? What did he expect Yens to bring back? Amma nudged him. “The jaguar,” she whispered.

  “Brother Turtle, surely you can help me,” Taemon said in a gruff voice.

  “Did I hear something?” Vangie made the turtle’s voice deep and lilting. “Must have been the wind.”

  Why would the high priest suddenly decide to trade with the Republik? What did he want that he didn’t already have?

  “Sister Serpent, please help me,” Taemon made the jaguar say.

  Vangie hissed. “What can I do? I don’t even have armsss.”

  Da wouldn’t take kindly to making contact with the Republik. He’d have something to say about that. Had he spoken out? Was that why he and Mam hadn’t been at Yens’s ceremony?

  Another nudge from Amma. “Brother Mouse, please help me,” Taemon said for the jaguar.

  Suppose his da and mam had disappeared. What did that even mean? Where had they gone? Were they all right? If only there were some way he could know what was happening. “Flame it all!”

  Skies! Had he said that out loud? Loud enough for people to hear? It was a mild curse, but definitely not within the range of appropriate. Not for a kids’ puppet show. And a religious one at that.

  The audience roared with laughter.

  Taemon felt his face redden. He was supposed to do the mouse voice, too. What was the mouse supposed to say? He couldn’t think what came next.

  Amma glared at Taemon.

  For all the Great Green Earth, he couldn’t remember anything they’d practiced. He’d have to make something up. He turned the mouse puppet to face the audience.

  “What do you think I should do, boys and girls?” Taemon asked in his squeaky mouse voice. “Should I help Brother Jaguar?”

  The kids clapped and yelled in the affirmative.

  “I don’t know,” Taemon made the mouse say. “He has awfully sharp teeth. You really think I should help him?”

  “Yes!” the kids yelled.

  “Are you sure? Have you seen the size of his claws?”

  “Yes!” Each response increased in volume.

  Amma wasn’t glaring anymore — she even laughed. Going along with Taemon’s improvisation, she made up silly lines for the narrator. By the time they finished, even the teachers were chuckling. The show ended to thunderous applause.

  When the curtain closed, Vangie took down the backdrop while Taemon helped Amma move the table to the back of the stage, behind the last row of black curtains. He could still hear the clapping. He looked at her face, shadowed and gray, and she had that familiar look about her again. As if he had known her from a long time ago.

  That was impossible. She had never lived in the city. He shook the thought from his head.

  They set the table down. Taemon started gathering puppets.

  “You were wonderful!” Amma said, beaming. “We do that puppet show every year, but it’s never been that much fun. Come on, it’s time for our bow.”

  She reached out and took his hand. He dropped th
e puppets. She was holding his hand. With her hand. No one had ever done that to him before. It was the strangest, most fascinating feeling, warm and comforting and tingly all at once. Then she led him toward the front of the stage, where Vangie was. The three of them stood in front of the curtain now while everyone clapped.

  Before Taemon even knew what was happening, Vangie took his other hand. Skies, he was standing in front of an audience holding hands with two girls. They bowed. That is, Vangie and Amma bowed as Taemon stood there, paralyzed. The audience was smiling and clapping, the two girls were beaming and bowing, and Taemon had to remind himself to take another breath.

  The rain had stopped. On the way back to Amma’s house with the boxes, the mood was light and sunny.

  “You know what I think?” Vangie said when they got to the porch. They set the boxes down and sat on the steps. “I think we need to plan our next frivolics.”

  “Yes!” Amma said. “What should we do this time?”

  “I picked the last one,” Vangie said. “It’s your turn.”

  “Okay, I can come up with something.” Amma smiled. “Are you in, Taemon?”

  “I’m in,” he answered. “Just don’t make me memorize any lines. And no more trips to the city.”

  They chatted on the steps until it was time for Taemon to go home. Vangie was spending the night at Amma’s house, so the two girls went inside. When he left, Taemon paused on the side of the house and stared at the door that didn’t open. He bet he could borrow the tools from Drigg to fix it. Colony doors were pretty simple things. How broken could it really be?

  He studied the door, wondering if it was the doorknob that was broken. There were all sorts of doorknobs in the colony, from smooth round things to simple hooks and latches to more complicated contraptions, but they were all rather simple from a mechanical point of view. In the city, on the other hand, all psi doors had the same latch. If you wanted anybody to be able to open a door, you had to have the standard door latch. Everyone knew what this latch looked like and could envision it well enough to lift the lever and open the door. In school, one of the first things they taught you was how to open doors. The teacher had a model door latch — without the door around it — and the kids had to study until they could open it with psi. Very simple. As long as you had psi.