“Thanks,” I squeak out and he nods. We stand there, the two of us, quiet for whole minutes. There are so many things I want to ask, like, why can’t we become partners in his revolution? But the words don’t come. Instead, our attention snaps to the gravel road and the sound of footsteps approaching. I raise my poker, and he looks at me for one moment before stepping in front of me, holding the gun. Finally, we see Gretchen on the path. She looks at us, quizzically.
“You’re missing lunch,” she pants, winded from her walk down. Gretchen never makes this trek down the hill, because she’ll have to go back up. She takes a deep breath. “And Lulu’s sick.”
I suddenly forget everything else.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Don’t know. She won’t talk to anyone but you.”
I turn to Phoenix. I’m certain there is something to say, but instead I leave him and sprint up the hill. I feel his eyes on me as I go.
Within minutes, I am in cabin O.
“Lulu?” I ask, quietly. I am huffing and puffing from my run. I fight to calm my breath as I step in, closer to Lulu. Raven blocks my way.
“Raven, honey. Let me by, please.” She does, but even in the midday sun, the cabin is dark, and it’s difficult for me to see. “Why aren’t you at lunch?” I ask Raven, realizing the time.
She just shrugs.
“Go to the mess hall,” I tell her, and she walks out, closing the door quietly behind her. When I am sure I see Raven walk through the lunchroom door, I turn to Lulu.
“What’s wrong? Lulu? Honey? Is it your stomach again? Are you scared?”
In the shadows, I see Lulu shake her head. Somewhere, deep inside, I have that horrific sinking feeling. “What is it then?” I ask. I walk closer to her cot where she is curled up in a tiny ball. I reach down and stroke her back. “Lulu? Please tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
“You can’t help me anyway,” she whimpers, and I can tell she’s been crying.
“Why not? There’s nothing that we—”
“I’m no good anymore.” Her voice is shaky and barely perceptible.
“What are you talking about, Lulu?”
“I’ll never see you again.” She reaches out and grabs hold of my arm. It sends a chill down my spine.
“But Lulu, what are you talking about?”
“Oh Ronnie.” Quiet tears wash over her delicate cheeks. “I just blossomed.”
Chapter Six
I sink down onto the floor next to Lulu’s bed. It can’t be, I decide. She has to be wrong. It is not feasible that a nine-year-old girl…The exhaustion I’m feeling from lack of sleep sends a tremor through my body, but my adrenaline keeps me focused. I turn myself to face Lulu and stroke her hair, softly.
“Lulu, honey, how do you know?” I ask as carefully as I can.
She doesn’t speak, she just points to a small pile of soiled clothes on the edge of her cot.
I nod. “Does anyone else know?”
“No,” Lulu whispers.
“That’s good.” No matter what, this needs to stay between us.
I rack my brain for an answer…for anything. But the answer doesn’t come. Instead, the tears do. I chide myself for crying so much. I am usually the girl who never cries. I wipe the tears quickly. The last thing I need to do is instill more fear in Lulu.
“I don’t want to leave you,” Lulu cries, and I force a smile.
Many of my campers have given me this same teary goodbye, but it’s never before been this difficult.
“I don’t want you to either,” I agree, softly. Usually, I follow those words with, “But you’re going to a wonderful place where you’ll see your mother.” The thought of those poisonous words brings a bitter taste to my mouth. Today I say nothing more.
“And I don’t want to go,” Lulu whispers.
“Where?” I ask, just as quietly, understanding now there really is nowhere for her to go.
“To the New World.”
“Why not?” I am unable to say more. Unable to concoct a lie about trees dripping with candy. Unable to shake from my brain the image of streets littered with limp, lifeless children.
“Because it just doesn’t feel right.” The words she speaks are poignant and important, yet they come out of a tiny body, huddled up into an even tinier ball.
How I wish I had followed my instincts any of those times I had wondered. If I had…if I had, would it have made a difference? Could I have kept any one of those hundreds of little girls from being sent to the New World? Did I get caught up in the praise and accolades, and did I refuse to listen…to really listen to my heart? Guilt radiates through me like a searing pain. It is so much worse than the wounds I received from my beating. But there’s no time for guilt. Now there is only time for action.
“Well you’re not going,” I state definitively, standing up next to her. I realize I must look like a giant to this tiny person. And if I’m a giant, I had better come up with a giant plan. Quickly, I snatch Lulu’s soiled garments and stash them into her backpack. Then I grab two pairs of undergarments, shorts, and t-shirts and stuff them into the same bag. I cram the backpack under her cot. Then I take my personal stash of toiletries and secretly, I lead her to the latrine to explain everything she needs to know. Soon we are back in the cabin, and I grab her bag. I know there is only one place for her, but I’m not sure how to get her there. And first, I’ll need to clear camp and the watchful eyes of Margaret.
****
Luckily, when we leave the cabin I hear sounds coming from the mess hall, and know I have a bit more time until the campers leave their lunch and head back to rest period in their cabins. This is what I need to be most careful about. There is a head count at rest time that is usually done by Margaret. Today, I’ll need an excuse to do it myself, which means I need Gretchen.
It’s strange hearing the sounds of more voices than the four tiny ones I’ve grown accustomed to. I have been so busy with being kidnapped, beaten and insulted, all the while preparing myself and my girls for the Letting…well, I very nearly forgot there are other campers here. And I will have to earn each one’s trust and respect as well. I will be expected to lead each one to the Letting and then to the New World. Well, I would be if circumstances were normal. But now, who knows? Just the thought of our situation sends panic reeling through my body.
I cannot let panic take over. I must keep control.
Quietly, I sneak Lulu from the door of the cabin to the outside wall farthest from both the mess hall and the camp office where Margaret eats her lunch. I’ve never known why she eats there, but I’ve always assumed she likes the peace and quiet. Hovering at the side of the cabin, my palms flat against the wooden planks, I hear Lulu panting beside me. There is no time even to try to pretend this is a game. She knows as well as I do, this—whatever this is—and its outcome, are deadly serious. My immediate dilemma is how to move us from the cabin to the hill without being spotted.
We both take deep breaths and start quietly, past the cabins and toward the path, but I have to be extremely careful of our pacing. If it’s too fast, it will be obvious, but too slow and we’ll be spotted. Steadily, we walk across the grass fields when all I want to do is break out into a sprint, carrying Lulu along with me.
As we walk, I see Lulu grimace from the newly acquired pain she is feeling. I see the path clearly in front of us, the place where the grass meets the gravel, and it’s so close I can nearly touch it. We’ll have about ten yards to walk to get to the gravel and then we must move very quickly and carefully, because there is no reason to be on the gravel path except to go to the waterfront. And what could possibly be my reason to take her to the waterfront now? At this time? At this hour? Alone? And even if we were to get there successfully, will he even be there? And will he take her?
Step, step, step, her tiny legs and my long legs find a rhythm, until finally, we touch gravel. Then we hear the bugle play, signifying the end of lunch period. Lulu’s weary eyes dart up at
me, terrified. Damn. I was hoping to be clear of camp before the bugle. Everyone will be leaving the mess hall and here we are, in plain view, trying to break away.
We must press on. We walk a few steps more and I hear footsteps fall in time behind us. They are heavy steps and they grow faster and faster until I feel a hand on my shoulder. I know who it is without even looking. I wheel around and look down at Margaret’s round, shiny face, staring up at me. Her lips are pursed, and she stands like she is wearing a suit of armor three sizes too small. I need to think fast.
“Margaret?” I sound as disgusted as I can. “Do you have a good reason for stopping us?” She looks at me first with surprise, then with hatred in her eyes.
“I don’t need a reason.” She speaks through clenched teeth.
“No?” I stand tall, staying as strong as I can. “Well I hope you remember to tell them that tomorrow when I sign her in at Services and they see what I see...”
I allow my voice to trail off. Lulu eyes me with a panicked look. It is a huge gamble I’m taking, but it’s the only chance we have.
“Come on, Lulu,” I sigh, trying to mask my terror with ambivalence. “Let’s go.” I turn Lulu around toward the cabins and can tell she’s genuinely confused. But then, so am I. I have no idea what I’m doing.
“I’m sure you’re right to send her to rest time, Margaret.” I speak with every undertone of sarcasm I can muster. “You would know better than me what the Lettors want. Me, I’m just responsible for prepping more successful draws than any other person in history.”
As soon as I say it, I feel nauseated and dizzy. I feel the ground want to come up but I force myself to stand strong. Is it true? More than any other person in history?
I grab Lulu by the hand and begin to pull her back toward the cabin. I see the tears flowing from her eyes and feel them building in mine. No. This is not the time to falter. I must stay strong.
Margaret lets us walk quite a distance back toward the cabins, and despite my fear that she won’t stop us, the space gives me a tiny reprieve. I need this time to concoct my bogus story.
“Wait,” Margaret blurts finally, and I feel the rigid muscles in my neck relax a tiny bit. I turn slowly.
“Are you talking to me?” I ask, and she nods. “What?” I stand perfectly still, trying to remember to breathe.
“What is it you see?” she asks, nodding toward Lulu as if she didn’t even exist—as if she were only a number—which may be exactly what she is to them. What all of us are.
“Margaret.” I walk straight up to her. “If you can’t see it…” I turn my head to look at her sideways. I read the expression of disappointment in her face. I have to be careful not to lead Margaret to Lulu’s real “condition,” but I’m banking on the fact Lulu looks way too young for anyone to think anything of the sort. But still, to be safe, I can only toy with Margaret for so long.
“What is it?” Margaret asks. “I-I’m not with them like you are. I’m busy running a camp. Just tell me, Veronica.”
I can tell she’s genuinely frustrated, and deep down I’m glad to have pushed her this far.
“Well she’s dehydrated, of course.” I say it like I’m reading medical stats about Lulu’s tiny body, and like any of it is true.
Margaret stares at Lulu, trying to see something…anything that will give her a clue.
“Oh for goodness sake,” I exclaim, grabbing Lulu’s arm and holding it up. I turn her hand upward to reveal her fingers. “Shriveled up skin.” I drop her arm.
Next, I cup her chin with my hand and turn her face upward toward Margaret.
“Sunken eyes. Stick out your tongue please.” I instruct Lulu in a voice as cold as I can make it.
She obeys.
“And just look at her tongue…” I turn away, as if disgusted.
Margaret nods along as if any of it were true. Of course, I would never let any of my girls get dehydrated. It’s something I would watch, especially in this heat and especially the day before a Letting. But I, on the other hand, am starting to feel very thirsty.
“Why is she wearing a backpack?” Margaret asks, eyeing the bag. “And why do you have her out in the heat, walking?”
“Really?” I ask. “The backpack is carrying water and she’s out walking because I have to keep her moving to make sure her veins haven’t collapsed.”
Lulu shrinks back slightly and gasps.
Margaret looks surprised as well.
“Well,” Margaret barks, obviously out of her element. “She’s your charge. You had better know what you’re doing. And remember, tomorrow’s your first Letting, too.” She speaks with such syrupy sweetness I want to slap her.
“Are we done?” I ask and she nods.
“Okay, Lulu.” I turn back to her. “Now we need to walk with knees touching elbows. Can you try it?” I do the ridiculous action that will get her blood pumping and she copies me. Then we jog in circles a bit as Margaret walks away. “Okay, now up and down the hill, pumping your arms.”
“No.” I’m hoping Lulu’s refusal is for good measure.
“I’m sorry.” I sound as cold and professional as I can. “A lot is riding on you tomorrow. Your country and its leaders are relying on you. Your job is to show up prepared, and my job is to prepare you.”
Lulu nods and I walk her down the top part of the hill and back up again. We repeat the action until I am certain Margaret has gone back to her office. I am fairly sure Margaret will never venture to the waterfront, so we’re safe for the moment. I just pray all of this is not in vain.
We begin our trek to the waterfront and Lulu gives out at the halfway mark. “I can’t,” she whimpers. “I just can’t.” I recognize the terror and exhaustion in her. I sit down on the ground next to her.
“We have to go.” As much as I want to keep moving, I know if I push too hard she will resist. I speak as gently as I can. “There is someone down there, at the waterfront. He’s a friend of Gretchen’s. He is a good person, and he will help you.”
“He’s not your friend?” she asks, her bright blue eyes wide with fear. I shake my head.
“No. Sometimes I wish he was. But no…he’s not. I do trust him though. And I want you to trust him, too. Okay?”
As soon as I say the words, I realize they’re true. And they’d better be. And I’d better be right for trusting him, otherwise I am handing Lulu over to a dangerous, rebel lunatic. And who knows what he might do? Despite the heat, a chill runs through me. I shake it off and stand, stretching myself up as close to the beating sun as I possibly can. Maybe it will give me the power I so desperately need.
“Okay.” Lulu looks up at me, nodding. I reach my hand out to help her to her feet. Then in one big swoop, I pull her onto my back and we move swiftly and much less carefully down to the waterfront. The only thing that matters now is speed. When we make it to the bottom Phoenix is there, as if he was waiting for us, and he does not seem the slightest bit surprised to see us.
I ease Lulu off my back. She stands close to me, her body tight up against me. The sweat pours from my forehead as I struggle to catch my breath.
“How did you know?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just had a feeling I should be here.”
As much as I want to believe him, something in the way he says it makes me doubt his answer. Instinctively, I scan the woods for any sign of Gunnar and Buzzcut. Phoenix watches me. Regardless of my doubt, I still have to do something with Lulu, before they do.
“Phoenix…” I speak as carefully as I can, trying not to upset Lulu. “Lulu cannot have her blood drawn tomorrow. She’s…no longer ripe.”
His eyes give away surprise, but he only nods.
I turn to Lulu whose cheeks have flushed a bright pink, obviously mortified I am sharing her biggest secret with a strange man. “You don’t have to be afraid. Remember, he’s friends with Gretchen. You stick with him and do everything he tells you to do. After the Letting tomorrow, I will find you.”
&n
bsp; “Pinkie promise?” she asks, holding up her tiny little finger. I stare at it and then look at Phoenix, hoping for some type of guidance, but he looks away.
“Pinkie promise,” I say, locking my finger with hers, caught in the absurdity of a child so young she still asks for a “pinkie promise,” having to be protected from the New World. It’s disgusting.
I begin to walk off, but Phoenix catches up to me. I know he’s going to tell me to forget the favor I’m asking, that it’s too much. But instead, he grabs my arm to stop me. I look at his hand on my elbow and my eyes search his face, and I have never felt so…lost. I expect him to ask me if I’m certain. To tell me that she’s so young. But he doesn’t.
“I don’t know what you’re planning.” He points at Lulu but keeps his eyes focused on me. His voice is low and even. “But this is my show. And my plan. You are only free right now because I need you to go to the Letting. You’re not some kind of savior, Veronica.” His face turns red with frustration, and he leans in close to me. “You’re the enemy.”
He drops his hand from my elbow, and despite his words, I’m sorry when he does. I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t know when I became the bad guy, and more importantly, I don’t know how to save these girls. And selfishly, I-I don’t understand why the feeling of his hand on me was so comforting. I was raised to believe he is the enemy. But I just can’t see him as such. Sadly, the truth is this boy hates me and no matter what I try to do to fix it, I cannot. I can never undo what I’ve done. I am a monster, and he needs to stop me. But at least Lulu will be safe, if only for a little while.
I turn away from the two of them with such an ache in my heart it hurts all the way to my toes. I force down a sob that wants to explode from my chest, and draw in as much oxygen as I can.
“Ronnie?” I turn back to see little Lulu, trying to smile at me. “Good luck tomorrow.” I turn away from her and run up the hill.
The Letting Page 7