by Edge, T. C.
We decide to change the subject and talk about less important things. Right now all I want is to laugh and smile, to walk through the woods and listen to the chirping birds and clicking insects. To make the most of these last fleeting moments where I'm actually still considered a child, and before the burden of adulthood stamps its foot down on me.
All across town, across the region and beyond, I know the kids will be doing the same. Doing what they love the most while they can. Enjoying a last day of freedom before their fates are sealed.
The hours will tick by mercilessly until everyone is summoned together in the hall at school. Children at the front, their parents at the back. All waiting to hear their fate. All with hearts pumping and hands shaking at the prospect of being dragged from their homes.
Before I know it, it's time for us to go. Time to leave the tranquillity and privacy of the woods and step back into the world of watchful eyes and glum expressions. A world of routine and hard labour. And today, in particular, a world of great sorrow and misery.
On the edge of the woods, I stop Jackson and pull him towards me. We only hug each other here, on the boundary of the trees, before we part again until our next meeting. Every time it's like a dagger in my heart, knowing it will be a week or more until we're here again. This time, I hug him tighter than ever.
This time, it might just be our last walk in the woods..
4 - The Duty Call
The school is already growing busy when I arrive. There's a much greater sense of nervousness in the air today than there was yesterday. A dull murmur floating above the crowd as parents try to keep their children calm. For some, I can tell, the pressure is already growing too acute. I can see tears glinting in the sunlight as they fall down cheeks, eyes reddening and heads shaking as parents speak comforting words to their offspring.
Some children stand alone, or in small groups, their parents yet to arrive. I see Amy with her father, still smiling, if only faintly now. It grows brighter when she catches sight of me across the crowd, before giving me a thumbs up. Her infectious nature makes it impossible for me not to return the compliment.
About five minutes after my arrival, Jackson turns up. We made sure to leave each other on the boundary of the woods and come separately for fear of being seen by a Roamer or, perhaps worse, Jackson's parents. I've told my mother about Jackson many times before and, although I don't think she approves, she certainly understands. Jackson's parents aren't the same. The best way to describe them would be that they fit the system, and are happy to see it adhered to. If they knew about their son's secret friendship, they'd have made sure to shut it down immediately. As Leaders, that's their role.
Right now, though, Jackson's parents aren't here, and he stands alone. Immediately, a few other single boys gravitate towards him, encircling him like planets around a star. They look up at him with puppy dog expressions, as if he's their stand-in father until their real parents arrive. I see them nod in unison as he speaks and turns to look at each boy individually, perhaps offering some words of reassurance that today will go well for them all. Looking at him, I know he'll make a fantastic Leader.
Gradually the crowd grows, bolstered by parents arriving from their duties to stand with their children. I wait, eagerly, for my mother, my eyes searching constantly for her withered frame. I've told her time and again that she doesn't need to come. That it will only make things harder with her being there if I've been assigned somewhere else. I'm sure a lot of the kids feel the same, but all parents are required to share the burden. It's a rite of passage that all school leavers take, and one that all parents are meant to witness.
And yet, when the doors to the school finally open, and the crowd begin to filter in, I'm still standing alone. I follow inside, and take my place on the left side of the hall with all the girls. To our right are the boys, and behind us all, the parents. The grating sound of chairs scraping on the floor fills the room as people sit, followed by a chorus of fidgeting as Principal Lewis steps forward from his seat on the stage.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls,” he starts, his voice booming through a small microphone attached to his ear. “Today is the day of the Duty Call. It is the day that all children's lives lead towards. The day that all of you,” he says, referencing the students with his hands, “become adults.”
A light applause flows through the audience, started from the front by the two testers from the previous day.
“This day is a momentous day in all of our lives. For all of you before me, it marks the end of one thing, and the start of something else.”
I notice how carefully he chooses his words. How he doesn't openly state the fact that this day is, for many, the worst day of their lives.
“Good luck to all of you and remember, if it's meant to be, it will be.”
Another flutter of applause fills the room as Principal Lewis returns to his seat and the two testers step forward. Both smile widely and move to either side of the stage, as before, their chins high and eyes wide with hope and promise. They hold just about the opposite expression as everyone else in the room.
Once again they speak, taking turns to contribute a little more of their rehearsed address to the audience. They talk of the history of the Duty Call. About how this nation of ours, Arcadia, that has seen so much trouble and strife, has now been rebuilt on its principles. How the symbiotic nature of our society makes for a better world. How each of us having our own little role creates harmony and a better future for our children, and our children's children.
I keep an eye on the door at the back the entire time, furtively glancing behind me whenever another applause begins. My mother's face, however, remains elusive amid the throng of parents.
The address continues as the testers speak of the honour of holding any position, from the lowliest to the most esteemed. How every duty is as important as the next. How each and every one of us should be proud today wherever we end up. How Arcadia is mother to us all, and we should all do everything we can to serve her in the best way possible. That, we are told, is what the Duty Call is all about.
Eventually the address is brought to a close with the words: “and now, without further delay, let us begin the Duty Call.”
I can feel the nerves building around me now. There's a stiffness and a silence as the two testers step back to their seats, pick up their electronic tablets, and return to the front of the stage.
“We will start with the girls,” says the shorter tester. “I shall read your names out alphabetically, along with your duty and where you will be assigned. Remember, you will go where your skills take you, and where the nation most needs you. Please stand when I announce your name.”
The entire audience takes an intake of breath and a sudden hush quiets the hall. I search with my eyes to find Amy, who will be first up, but can only catch the back of her head through the crowd.
“Amy Appleby.”
Amy stands straight, and all eyes fall on her.
“You are to be a Teacher in Oakmont. Congratulations.”
An applause starts again, and I see Amy turn to find her father. Oakmont, I know, is close by, and being a Teacher is considered of high honour in the region. It's a good result, and her smile says so.
The abbreviated applause dies down as Amy sits, before the tester announces the next girl.
“Bethany Astor.”
I look down the line of girls next to me to see Bethany stand. Her face is wrought with nerves and I can see her hands shaking as she tries to hold them tight to her side.
“You are to be a Packer here in Arbor. Congratulations.”
Bethany lets out a small gasp of air as she sits. I can't tell whether it's one of disappointment or relief, but given that her mother's a Packer, and she gets to stay here, it's probably the latter.
Again, an applause rings out as the tester states her congratulations, and Bethany looks around to see her parents.
The next few girls receive assignments that ar
e just as predictable. They follow in their mother's footsteps, just as they can have expected, and generally are assigned nearby. When the girl before me is announced, my pulse has accelerated to an unprecedented rate.
“Selina Dawson.”
Selina stands.
“You are to be a Breeder in Equo. Congratulations.”
Selina looks to her parents before collapsing into her chair in tears. Equo, I know, is a town on the other end of the region, hundreds of miles away. She may never see her parents again.
As the applause fades, leaving only the light sound of Selina's sobs, I hear my name being called.
I look up and see the tester looking at me curiously, just as she did yesterday.
“Cyra Drayton,” she says, her eyes locked onto mine. The room once again hushes.
I stand, and can immediately feel every eye in the room burrowing into me. My knees feel suddenly weak beneath me as I attempt to lift my chin and steady my breath. My head swells, my eyesight blurring. I feel as if I'm about to collapse.
I'm so disoriented by the whole experience that the words of the tester fail to register. For a moment I think I'm dreaming, or that I'm under that scanner again, weird images being sent into my mind. The raging sea. Huge pylons rising from the tumult. A monstrous city in the ocean.
My mind begins to return to the hall, my eyes clearing once more, and I hear the tester repeat her words once again, as if disbelieving it herself.
“You're to be sent to....Eden. Your duty will be assigned to you there. Con....congratulations.”
The room falls silent. For a moment you could hear a pin drop as I stand in front of everyone, trying to make sense of things.
But this time there's no applause. No obligatory clapping to usher in the next announcement. Only a murmur, a state of shock that gradually grows louder as each person turns to the next and asks the same question.
Why is she being sent to Eden?
I dare to scan my eyes over the room and see a range of expressions. Shock. Disbelief. Anger. Jealousy. Even Jackson's face is written with a look of total bewilderment.
I see shaking heads and all I want to do is bury my own into my lap and block everything out. Then I remember my mother and arch my neck around to check the back of the room. Dozens of sets of eyes stare at me from the parents behind, but I don't see the cloudy grey of my mother's. Only those of sparkling blue. No grey. No withered frame and weak smile. My mother isn't there.
The murmuring continues for so long that the tester has to call for everyone to quiet before continuing to announce the rest of the girls. Even as the next girl stands, I can feel everyone staring at me, still wondering why I've been given such a great privilege. Still wondering what my duty will be. Still wondering why it wasn't them.
I can't take it. My stomach begins to churn, to turn over and over, my breathing growing heavy as my mind stumbles in a thousand directions.
When the next applause begins, I stand, suddenly, and start pushing past the girls next to me towards the exit. I see Jackson, in a split second, his eyes filled with worry and confusion, make a move to stand and come towards me. But he checks himself and stops, before retreating back down into his chair.
I hear the voice of the tester, calling me to sit back down. But I don't listen. I need to get out. I need fresh air.
All eyes are back on me again. I rush faster, stumbling along past the girls as they shuffle to move out of my way. Soon I've made it to the walkway down the middle of the hall and I'm running, straight to the back door. I pray that my mother's outside, waiting for me, to give me a hug, tell me it's going to be OK.
But she's not. I burst into the sunshine and immediately throw up, dropping to my knees and retching into the warm dirt. My head swims, spinning and beginning to turn inward. I can feel myself losing consciousness, a blackness engulfing me, closing in on my eyes as I kneel in the dust.
I hear more applause inside, but it sounds so eerie and distant now. My hands give way beneath me, and I collapse into the dirt, my eyes still wide open but seeing nothing. Then images reach me, clear as day. Things like before. Things I've never seen. The coast and the ocean and the great city in the sea. The great city of Eden.
When my eyes open again, I have no idea how long I've been lying there. I sit up, the fog clearing, and turn back to the hall. Once more I hear the sound of applause and the faint voice of the taller tester calling out a name, followed by more obligatory applause.
I manage to get to my feet and gingerly stumble back towards the door. I listen carefully for the next announcement and hear the name of Jason Cusiter. They must already be onto the boys.
My mind remains cloudy when the next name is called. Cyra. I listen more closely and hear it again, but it makes no sense.
Then I realise it's not coming from inside the hall. It's coming from behind me. I turn and see a figure rushing towards me, hair golden and skin browned from the sun. Her voice grows clearer as she continues to call my name. Then I hear that familiar croak. The cracked and broken voice of our Leader, Bette.
I move towards her as her face comes into focus ahead of me. I see an expression on it that I've never seen. A look of pain and anguish.
Beads of sweat drip down her face as she pants my name again. My own voice croaks when I speak, a confusion setting inside me.
“Bette?” I say. “What's going on?”
She reaches me and stops short in the dirt, and it's only now that I see those drips of sweat down her cheeks aren't sweat at all. They're tears.
“It's your mother Cyra. You need to come with me, right now.”
5 - Changes
My mother lies on her bed, Madge dabbing her forehead with a cloth. Her breathing is weak, the grey of her eyes more cloudy than ever as she slowly arches her neck to look at me. I stand in the doorway, quickly drying my own tears to remain strong, and step forward.
I take her hand and force a smile onto my face. She returns the look, the pallid skin lifting at the corners of her withered mouth.
“I'm so sorry I wasn't there today, Cyra,” she says, her voice only a croaky whisper.
“It's OK, it's OK. You should be resting anyway.”
I hear a couple of sniffs behind me and turn to see both Madge and Bette standing at the edge of the room. They look at me with sullen eyes before stepping out and shutting the door to leave us alone.
“Bette tells me you collapsed in the fields.”
My mother nods, tears now building in her eyes. “It's....the heat. It got to me.”
I grip her hand tighter. We both know it wasn't the heat.
“It's OK, mum, you can rest for now. Don't worry. I'm here to take care of you.”
She shakes her head slowly and stares at me with those silver eyes. “No, Cyra, you won't. I know you're better than this place. I've always known.”
“No....I'm not going anywhere,” I say, trying to convince myself.
“What was your assignment, Cyra?” she asks me.
“It's...here. Just the same as you,” I lie.
Her mouth arches in a smile once more. “I could always tell when you were lying. Ever since you were little. Tell me, Cyra. Tell me where you're going.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. I know this is it. Whatever I say, I know I can't stay here. I can't just swap my place with another Picker and stay with my mother. I'm bound for Eden, and there's nothing I can do about it.
“Eden,” I say, my head dropping. “I don't know why mum. I'm scared to leave....to leave you.”
Her hand reaches to my cheek and brushes away a tear. Her palm is cold, her fingers shaking lightly. “I always knew you were special, sweetheart. You've always had a special glow about you. I'm so happy for you.”
“No, I don't want to go! I want to take care of you.”
“And you have done, sweetheart, for far too long. It's time you lived your own life now. You can change your stars.”
My face is warm with tears now as I stand. “No, I don't w
ant to leave you. I can't lose you. I can save for medicines when I'm Paired. Together we'll have enough to get you the cure.”
“No medicines can save me now. I'm too far gone.”
“But....but no. The medicine you've been taking has kept you stable. I...I'll get you the cure in Eden. I'll send it home for you.”
Her voice is so weak now, her eyes fading. “Look in the bottom drawer, at the back.”
My eyebrows arch in confusion. “What? Why?”
“Just do it.”
I walk to the series of compartments at the side of the room and open the bottom drawer. In it are a pile of cloths and rags and other old garments. I move them to one side and reach to the back. My hand clutches small boxes, their corners pricking at my skin.
I pull them out and stare at the contents of my hand. Boxes of medicine, of pills, for my mother's illness. I open them up to see that they're full, that the pills are still locked tight in their packets.
“What's this? But...your medicine.”
My mother's voice creaks across the room. “I haven't been taking it, Cyra.”
“But...but why?” I say, my breathing growing heavy, as I stand and pace back towards her. I look into her eyes and see the tears trickling down her cheeks, creating sparkling lines down her ashen skin.
“Because of you, Cyra. I want you to live your life. I want you to be happy and not have to think about me. I'm just a burden on you, holding you back. I know you've been doing badly at school on purpose. I can't have you here, sharing your rations, doing my work, when there's so much potential in you.”
She coughs, and blood shows on her hand when she brushes her mouth.
“Mum,” I say, reaching for her.
“No,” she says, pulling her hand away. “This is how it was always going to end, sweetheart. Whether by this illness or starvation, this day was always going to signal the end for me. Without you, without Carson and Cassie, without your father - I see no point in living anyway.”
I take her hand now and can barely see her through my tears. “No...please don't do this. Please take your medicine. I'll get the cure in Eden, I'll send it back. I promise. Please...you can't do this to me.”