He doesn’t get it, Rebecca thought. What an idiot. Suddenly Rebecca felt angry.
“You’re the one that’s weird!” she retorted, and feeling awkward, she departed for her home. On the way home, she wondered if he was gandy. The NOV had no place for such. As a minority, they were targeted and removed from society. Homosexuals were not given DeathBT, but were summarily executed. Female gandies hid more easily, and were somewhat tolerated, if not used, by the NOV brass. They could sometimes obtain waivers for use in the temples and the torture rooms. Applying for the waivers was obviously risky. This was, after all, the Nation of Vengeance.
Jan stood there, watching Rebecca walk away. Even though they were going the same direction, he let her get ahead of him. He was confused. I love Rebecca, but I don’t feel that way about her. Why don’t I feel the same with her as the other girls? Why? I don’t know why, but it would be a mistake. It would change everything. I would lose her — she would become someone else.
He heard the Guide chime in, calmingly blending in with his mind’s ear, “What you would lose would be the relationship you now have. It would become conformed to something more common in this world — though all relationships have their unique harmonics. It could become binding to the point of lifetime acceptance and devotion, or eventual rejection of the obligated relationship. The outcome cannot be but be one or the other, and either one can result in love or hate. This can be extremely hard, and actually not necessary, considering love is there already. The freedom to choose is there now, but changes dramatically if you have offspring. New sets of lovingly obligated relationships form.” Jan knew what he said was true.
After a while, Jan continued home. It was less than three blocks down the road from the school bus stop. He passed by some kids picking on a smaller kid across the street, but he just let it go. One confrontational involvement was enough for one day.
When Jan made it through his front door, and into the kitchen, it was like entering a different world. His mother was home early, and was baking some fresh yama bread. She occasionally did this, and Jan loved the smell of it. There was some music playing, and Martha greeted him with a smile and a hug. It was as if the harsh world outside the house was left behind, and something closer to heaven waited inside. He felt warm and good.
“I’m going to get my homework done fast today. I want to study your writings tonight,” Jan said to Martha, as he took a seat in the kitchen. “I think I know who some of the LERN members are in school. I know two for sure, because of our meetings. I want to ask for copies of what they may have.”
Martha had begun to introduce Jan into the LERN meetings she attended. She was not keen on him initiating such contacts on his own, considering the consequences. “I don’t want you talking to anyone yet, Jan. You know it’s too dangerous,” she warned.
Martha had not yet told Jan of the secret signal they would give each other. It was simply the scratching of the left thumb, followed by the scratching of the right thumb. The code would change every so often because the NOV would eventually discover it. The NOV in turn would use the signal to trap as many as they could before it was exposed that they had the code.
Jan opened the refrigerator and retrieved some gendra cheese. With that and a slice of bread, he pulled his books out onto the kitchen table, and proceeded to study for an impending math test. By the time dinner was ready, he had gone through his homework.
He and Martha had an enjoyable dinner, and Jan dominated the conversation by obsessing on retrieving more writings from Martha’s friends. She was happy that Jan had such a strong interest in LERN. She deeply felt that he would be able to contribute to the cause.
After dinner, Jan was ready to do what he really wanted to do — go over the writings again. Griswolt would be out late tonight, so Jan could study them uninterrupted in his parent’s bedroom. Martha refused to let him take them out of her room, so he had started copying them by hand. Jan had a hiding place of his own, behind his bed.
At school the next day, Jan’s last class was third level mathematics. The test was tough, but he got through it all right. He had begun to notice lately that the teacher, Ziba, had been studying him. It made him feel uncomfortable when he saw the intensity of her eyes. Jan was accustomed to people staring at his crest, but this was different. It seems as if she likes me, he thought to himself. So why does she stare? After class ended, he went to meet up with Buz before they headed to the buses.
Since Buz was coming out of chemistry class, they left by way of the smaller, back stairway. Buz said, “I’m meeting up with Huto tonight after dinner. You want to come over?”
Jan had other plans, and replied, “Let me see what’s up when I get home, I’ve got a ton of homework.” Huto was Buz’s old friend, anyway. As they rounded the fourth floor turn going up the steps, they heard the floor door open behind them, with a few students coming out.
“Well, look what the emui dragged in,” exclaimed Barab with sinister delight. “Grab them!” Sak and two others dashed after Jan and Buz, who had already begun running up the stairs. Sak got there first, grabbing Jan, and pulling him down by the ankles. Buz was still running up the stairs.
Barab didn’t care about Buz for the moment. He wanted Jan. The others were holding Jan down, while he struggled to get free. Barab walked up the stairs with his distinctive limp.
Buz stopped running about twelve steps up, and did not know what to do. They were not after him now.
Another group of students came through the door. Huto was among them. Huto saw Buz, took a look at the situation and stormed over to Barab — fists clenched, and barking, “Let him go, now!” Huto was with a couple of his friends from the hognot team, and Barab responded with, “Shit!”
They released Jan. It was then that Ziba and another teacher came into the stairway to see what the commotion was. Barab and his gang took off up the stairs past Buz.
Jan was brushing himself off. “Thanks a lot,” he said to Huto.
“Don’t expect me to bail you out next time,” Huto said, and then he looked up at Buz, and said, “You OK?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks buddy, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up,” Buz said, shaking his head.
“Don’t mention it — we’re still on for tonight, right?” Huto asked, and then he looked back at Jan with no little scorn. He thought Jan was a wuss, an emui. He did not like seeing his old friend Buz hanging with Jan. It made Buz look weaker than he usually looked.
“You bet,” said Buz.
Ziba recognized what just took place. She glanced at Jan, and then back at the teacher who was with her.
Jan looked at her, anticipating that she had something to say. She did.
“Jan, would you come to my office after school tomorrow?” Ziba asked. “I would like to go over some of your math with you.”
Jan was confused as to why a meeting was necessary, but said, “Sure, should I bring my books?”
“No, I have some other ones for you,” she replied, rather furtively.
It was Jan’s turn to study her now. Her smile looks real enough, he thought. He replied, “OK, we’ll see you tomorrow,” and smiled back at her. When he did, it almost seemed as though her eyes sparkled for a moment.
Buz said, “C’mon, Jan, we’re going to miss the bus.”
So they went on their way, and did indeed miss the bus. Their homes were only a thirty-minute walk away, so they started following the smallish but well-maintained brick road that ran along the school there. There were a number of housing subdivisions nearby and they passed many of the mounds of the homes while on their walk. In this area, they used plain uncolored gravel over the homes and yards, and most were fenced. Eventually it became sparser for a while, with a few businesses or construction sites along the way.
“You should come over tonight,” said Buz, as he gave a stone a sidearmed throw up ahead and watched it bounce.
“I dunno,” Jan replied, “I don’t think Huto likes m
e much.”
“He’s just jealous ‘cause you ace every test, and he’s struggling to get into Party Management College. He wants his dad’s life, enough income to qualify for two wives, and the lifestyle that comes with being a party boss. That’s why he wears that neckcloth all the time. He thinks it will help, somehow.” Buz knew Huto well because they grew up as neighbors before Buz moved into Jan’s neighborhood on the east side of town.
They had walked about halfway home. Jan and Buz were passing a parked buckboard loaded with scrap and did not see as Barab, Sak, and another guy popped out from behind it. Within seconds, they were on Jan and Buz. Barab noticed earlier that they had not made it to the bus, so he and his posse got off early in hopes of ambushing Jan and Buz as they walked home. He was right.
Because of the element of surprise, Barab managed to snag Buz because he was the closest, while Sak and the other guy caught and were holding Jan.
Barab had Buz down on his back, pinned by Barab’s much heavier frame. He looked at the other two holding Jan, and ordered, “Hold him — I’ll get to him next!” They were at a construction site, and there were piles of sand around them. Barab grabbed a handful, and started shoving it into Buz’s mouth, choking him.
Jan saw something out of the corner of his eye as he struggled to free himself from both of his attackers who each had a tight grip on both of his arms.
“You’re going to kill him!” Jan yelled at Barab. “Let him up! He can’t breathe!”
Barab paid Jan no mind and continued holding his hand over Buz’s sand-stuffed mouth.
Jan violently yanked the guy on his left towards him, and managed to head-butt him sharply in the nose and right eye. Startled, his grip loosened, and Jan immediately stomped on Sak’s shin and foot, causing Sak to release his hold momentarily so that Jan could break free, and Jan ran to what he saw in the sand.
It’s there! Jan rejoiced as he pulled a shovel out from the sand and came out swinging it wildly at the pair, who immediately backed off. Jan ran over to Barab who was just becoming aware of this, and cracked him hard with the shovel on the side of his turning pulpy face. Then he smashed Barab repeatedly on the head and back, until Barab — screaming, cut, and bleeding, jumped up and ran to the others. Jan was raging, screaming, coming right after them and still swinging the shovel. They were all running. After it looked like they were really gone for certain, he stopped, and remembering Buz, went back to him. Buz was sitting up now, spitting out the sand and choking.
They could still hear Barab, screaming, from further away now, “You wait, this isn’t over! I’m going to get you! I’ll get even —”
“I can’t believe it!” Buz said, still catching his breath in between coughing up and spitting sand, “I thought I was dead meat.” Then he looked at Jan and realized, “You saved my life.” He looked like he was trying to process it. “You saved me! You watch — I’ll tell Huto about this tonight, and he’ll change his mind about you — he’ll have to!”
“Right now I don’t care,” Jan replied. “I’m just glad it’s over. Let’s go home.”
He took the shovel with them, just in case.
Chapter Fifteen
Growing Pains
T
he next school day was rather uneventful. After math class, (which was in the middle of the school day this day,) Ziba asked Jan to come up to her desk at the end of class. “Are we still on for the end of the day?” she asked, expectantly.
“That’s my plan,” Jan replied. “Can I ask what this is about?” he asked.
“I would rather wait until then,” Ziba replied, smiling.
Jan spent the rest of the day wondering what she wanted. It can’t simply be about math, he thought. When Jan saw Buz later, he said, “I won’t be coming home on the bus today, I’m meeting with Ziba.”
Buz was puzzled, and mused on the reason asking, “What’s she want, anyway? You get good grades.”
Jan just shrugged his shoulders and said, “I don’t know, but it seems important to her.” They parted ways for their respective classes. Eventually the school day ended, and Jan went to Ziba’s classroom.
He knocked on the door, and Ziba called out for Jan to enter. He came in, and she was at her desk working on some class work. She looked up, motioned to the chairs in front of her desk and said, “Please, have a seat, Jan.” She put down her pen, and looked at him. For a short while she did not do anything but sit and smile at Jan.
Jan didn’t know what to do, so he just smiled back. He noticed she was scratching her hand.
“Do you know what this means, Jan?” Ziba asked as she saw Jan glancing at her hands.
“Do you mean your hand itches?” Jan asked.
Ziba laughed, and stopped scratching her hand. Then her demeanor became more serious. “I noticed that Rebecca and Tama are friends of yours. I know Tama very well.” She searched Jan’s eyes for any expression of recognition.
Jan fidgeted in his seat, “I thought we were going to talk about math,” he said.
Ziba looked disappointed with Jan’s response. “We’ll get to that in a bit,” she said. “I have been watching you, Jan. Do you ever feel like you are different from the others in this school? I mean, really different?”
Jan wondered where this was going, but he bit, “Yes, I feel very different. I feel like a fish out of water. I don’t like it, but I’m about to graduate anyway, so it’s no big deal.”
Ziba paused. She picked up her pen again, tapping it lightly, looking for the right words. “Why have you chosen Tama and Rebecca as friends?”
“Well,” Jan thought aloud, “Rebecca has been my neighbor since I was a baby, and Tama —” He realized that the only reason he knew Tama is because of LERN meetings. It was the only thing they had in common.
Seeing the perplexed look on Jan’s face when it came to Tama, Ziba moved in for the kill. “Well, what is it about Tama?”
“She’s pretty,” Jan lamely lied. “That’s all.”
“That’s all?” Ziba responded with a kind smile. She said, “Surely there’s more to it than that,” testing Jan’s response. This had to be done very carefully. “Where did you first get to know her? I can’t see anything you two have in common, or am I missing something?”
Jan had a flash of intuition. Is Ziba really headed there? Jan asked himself. Does she know about us? This doesn’t feel like an interrogation. He studied her. What is it about her? She seems so calm, comforting. Loving. Loving?
Ziba just sat there, quietly waiting on Jan to make the next move. His reaction to her deeper questioning about Tama told her that Jan was holding back, but she waited patiently.
Jan was beginning to entertain the thought that she may be in LERN. Either that, or she was searching out LERN members for arrest. No, he thought, she doesn’t look or act the type to be with the police. He answered her question. This time, he gave her a clue, and wanted to see her reaction. “I met Tama at some meetings.”
Ziba took a deep, happy breath, and slowly let it out. “What kind of meetings?” she asked.
“You tell me,” Jan replied, with a smile on his face, waiting expectantly for her response.
“Are they meetings where you can be yourself?” Ziba asked.
“Yes, unless myself is a keesh,” Jan replied, jokingly.
“Are the meetings secret?” Ziba asked further.
This time Jan got a bit frightened. She suspected, and she was feeling him out. As far as I know, this is a trap.
He started to rise to leave. “I don’t think I want to talk any more, I need to get going,” he said, hoping to get out fast before he regretted it.
Ziba had already determined that Jan was in LERN, and did not want this moment to escape her. This unique student was leaving, and he may not give her another chance. “I’m one of you,” she blurted out.
Jan stopped, shocked that she would take such a risk, but he had to make sure. “One of who?” he asked.
Ziba walked around her desk, came up
to him, putting out her hands, and asked, “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, she took hold of his hands to make the smallest of love circles.
Jan’s face dropped, and he followed her lead, looking into her eyes, as she was to him. This is interesting, he thought, I’m in a love circle with my math teacher. He was already familiar with this because of the meetings. He willingly joined her for a while, feeling, enjoying the love grow, and appreciating her more than he had expected.
Ziba spoke first. “You’ve done this many times, haven’t you?”
Jan looked into her eyes. He saw the love there that couldn’t be spoofed, and said, “Yes.” They smiled at each other for a while. It was the first time he had made contact with someone new outside of the meetings. It felt good, but neither of them had really come out and said it straight yet.
“How do you like the meetings?” Ziba asked.
“I really like them a lot,” Jan replied. “I’d like to find more writings to study, but they are hard to come by.”
Ziba laughed, and slapped his shoulder. “I knew it! I can sure spot you kids! You probably attend meetings on the south of Justilant, hmmm?”
“Why yes, I do,” Jan replied.
“That’s why I’ve never seen you at a meeting. I prefer the ones on the north side of town. You should visit sometime.” Then Ziba looked puzzled. “Why don’t you know the sign?”
“What sign?” Jan asked, curious.
“The LERN sign,” Ziba said. “I would assume that your mother or father is a member. Weren’t you taught?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Jan replied. “My mother taught me everything about this so far.”
“Well, you are old enough to know, and you need to know, in order to be safe, now that you are meeting others. Here, when I scratch my left thumb, and then scratch my right thumb, that’s the sign for now.” Ziba showed him, and then they sat and talked for about an hour. When Jan told her he loved the Platac writings in particular, she went to her desk, and pulled out three complete pages for him to read while he was there. “When you have more time, you can come back and copy these,” Ziba offered.
Dystopyum (The D-ot Hexalogy Book 1) Page 18