Clover

by Lisa Jade

  I mimic his movement, shifting forward to hear him better.

  “What’s it like?”

  “It’s like… nothing else you’ve ever seen,” he breathes, “I still get breathless when I think about it. What kind of buildings do you have at the Mill? Anything with stairs?”

  I nod.

  “Not any of our buildings, no. But the Guard towers have a few floors to them.”

  “Well. Picture the towers, only five times the size and made of glass.”

  I stare blankly.

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine that.”

  I close my eyes for a second, but nothing comes to mind. I heave a sigh.

  “Sorry. I’m just not the imaginative type.”

  “In that case, maybe it’s best to just leave you to see for yourself. Believe me, you’ll be blown away. Now then, do you want to help with dinner?”

  “Dinner?”

  “Yeah,” he tells me, “with Dad steering the ship, I do the rest of the work. That includes cooking for us, as well as any guests on board.”

  The word doesn’t sit right with me. Guest makes it seem like I’m different from them, better somehow. But technically, we’re exactly the same.

  We dig into a dinner of roast fish and vegetables. I’ve never eaten fish before, but even though it looks far from edible, once I try it I realise it’s a hundred times better than gruel. I tell Darus and his Dad about the sludge we eat at the Farm and they gape, horrified that we don’t eat all fresh food like them. Supposedly, we’re the only ones that don’t. Darus tells me that the people in Thorne have high standards for everything. Everything has to be done by hand. Organic. Free range. They condemn the use of machinery for anything beyond their own walls. I suppose that’s why we have to do all the farming by hand when a machine could do it quicker. Turns out, thanks to their demands, even Darus and his Dad struggle. All fish has to be wild, caught seasonally and even then, only certain ones are deemed good enough. Apparently, it’s a nightmare just to keep up with demand. His Dad tells me in no uncertain terms that the people in the city are selfish. That they care only about themselves and nothing else. I wince as he says it. I’m not an idiot. I know that they’re raised differently from us. Maybe they don’t really know what they’re asking. Maybe they don’t realise how much work is involved.

  Maybe they just don’t care.

  As soon as the sun begins to fall, I’m ushered to bed. What they call ‘bed’, however, is nothing more than a tiny hammock, not unlike the ones back home – only this one tilts and wobbles with every wave. I lie back and try to force my eyes closed, but then comes a particularly sharp jolt and I find myself standing.

  Sleep is just not going to happen tonight.

  I climb back onto the deck and look out. At night, the sea is even more beautiful. The moon is high overhead, and I can see its silvery light bouncing off the waves around me. I look both ways; but I can’t see the land anymore. We’re too far out. Still, the sea air seems to calm me. My gut is still swirling, uneasy with all that’s happened and my refusal to think about it, but I can ignore it more easily now. For a brief moment, I wish I could stay here forever. It sounds perfect. Sailing, fishing. Maybe even learning how to swim in those crystal depths. No more crop fields or wood chopping. No more raising cattle.

  A sigh escapes my lips and I lean down on the railing, my eyes locked on the horizon. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the sky like this. So broad, so endless. At the Farm there are always buildings, towers, fences. They block my view and keep me from seeing the stars fully. But now, I see them clearly. Like paint splatters across the sky. Every so often one of them winks, and I feel the strange urge to wink back. My hand reaches up and I feel like I could almost grab the moon.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I jolt. Darus is standing behind me, his arms crossed, and for a moment I wonder if I’m in trouble for coming out here. But then he steps up beside me, leaning on the railing too.

  “Nothing.”

  My voice sounds weak, almost like a whisper. He shoots me a disbelieving look.

  “Noah, come on. I might be clueless, but nobody comes out here at night unless something’s weighing on their mind.”

  I shrug.

  “I guess I’m just nervous.”

  “About the city?”

  I drum my fingers on the railing and nod.

  “I guess so. It must be that.”

  “What do you mean, it must be? Surely you know if something’s bothering you.”

  I shake my head. Maybe for most people, that would be true. But not for me. I’m never entirely sure what I’m feeling, or why.

  “Not really,” I mutter, “I don’t really do worry.”

  He narrows his eyes a little.

  “Obviously there’s something. What were you thinking about, just before I came over?”

  “Not much. Just how nice it is here.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “You like it here?”

  “Of course I do. The fresh air, the good food, the feeling of being clean. It’s amazing. A part of me almost wishes I didn’t have to go home.”

  I bite back on the words, but it’s too late.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s nice here, but I do want to go home. I want this to be over with so that I can start to forget about it.”

  He stares into my eyes and I’m momentarily taken aback by his forwardness – they seem far more liberal with their attentions here.

  “Noah.”

  “Y-yeah?”

  “Why are you here?”

  I bite my lip so hard I taste blood.

  “I shouldn’t say.”

  “Look, tomorrow evening we’ll drop you and that cart off at the Dock on the other side. After that, we won’t ever see each other again. I don’t know anything about you except your name. It wouldn’t hurt to tell me.”

  I turn around so my back is against the railing. He’s right. It’s not like he’s going to do anything to me once he finds out.

  So I tell him everything. About Kane on that first day, how I had warned him. About how Nel had told me her worries. The story of my stint in the Mines. How Kane had asked me to join him, then kicked off. How I had taken a conscious step away from him, right when he was pleading with me the most.

  Throughout the story Darus listens in silence, his expression unusually calm. He’s an excellent audience, nodding when I need him to, furrowing his brows whenever the story calls for it. When I’m finished, he waits a couple of minutes before speaking.

  “So this Kane kid, he just flipped?”

  “Yes.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yes.”

  He frowns.

  “And you have absolutely no idea why he did it.”

  “No. Not a clue.”

  Darus leans back on the railing and stretches his arms over his head.

  “If you had known why he was doing it, would you have joined in? Assuming it was for a good reason, that is.”

  I pause. I hadn’t considered that. Honestly, the thought hadn’t occurred to me that he might actually have had a valid reason. What if it was important? What if he had no choice? What if he had a plan, but that plan depended on me following blindly?

  My gut clenches. What if I’m the reason he’s in the Mines?

  “I… I don’t know. I mean, I would never betray the Guard. But…”

  I stop mid-sentence. But what? But I would have if I’d had a reason to? If I knew he absolutely needed me? What situation would he have had to be in for me to abandon everything and help him?

  “What’s wrong?” Darus asks.

  I stare at the wooden deck, dread building in my throat.

  “I didn’t think.”

  This whole time, I’ve only been focussing on what’s happening to me. But Kane’s no fool. He didn’t have a death wish – if he had, he would have just tried to run. The fact that he hit Wirrow means he wanted to be punished, and in a certain wa
y. He must have had some kind of plan.

  “What if he needed me?”

  My voice seems to crack as I say it, but I don’t care.

  “What if he’s stuck in the mines, being punished all because I didn’t help him?”

  Darus shakes his head.

  “Sounds to me like he made his choice.”

  “I bet he hates me.”

  Suddenly my voice breaks, and something hot pricks the back of my eyes. He looks down, staring at my now-shaking hands.

  “Noah…”

  “I bet he feels like I betrayed him.”

  I don’t say any more. The damage is done. I know what the next sentence is. I did betray him. By not trusting him. By not helping him. By not even jumping in to talk Wirrow round once he had Kane pinned. By stepping back and pretending that I wasn’t involved, I abandoned him.

  A droplet of water hits the floor below me and something snaps – before I know it, I’m doing something I’ve never done before.

  I’m crying.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Darus’ reaction is instant; he jumps away from me, panic in his eyes.

  “Hey! Why are you crying?”

  I wipe my face with my arm and take deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself. Great. I bet I look like a total mess right now. How humiliating.

  “I’m sorry,” I whimper, “just ignore me. I’m being stupid.”

  He grimaces, then holds out both arms. It takes me a second to realise what he’s asking – and when I do, I pull back and shake my head hard.

  “No. No, I’m fine.”

  “Come on.”

  “It’s okay! Besides, we aren’t supposed to…”

  “Like I just said. You and I will part ways tomorrow and we’ll never meet again. It doesn’t matter if I give you one stupid hug.”

  His face has settled into an easy smile, and he stretches his arms a little, inviting me in. Tears drip from my chin but I force a smile onto my lips, and take a deep breath before stepping into the embrace.

  I’ve never been held before. It’s peculiar. Darus’ arms are warm and strong; I can feel years of steadily built muscle holding me tight. I rest my head on his shoulder, and after a few seconds I raise my hands and place them on his back. I can’t tell if the whole embrace is supposed to be comforting, or if it’s just so awkward it breaks through the grief.

  We stand silently for a few minutes, and then I clear my throat.

  “I… can hear your heartbeat.”

  Blood rushes to my face and suddenly the moment has passed. We pull apart and take a couple of steps away from one another. He smiles warmly.

  “There. That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

  I simply twitch. No. No, it’s wasn’t bad. Not exactly. Just strange, and in my books that’s enough of a reason to never do it again.

  “Anyway,” he coughs, “I, uh… I hope you feel better. You’d better get some sleep now.”

  I nod, striding past him without a word. As odd as it was, I do appreciate what he just did. People like us aren’t encouraged to touch, even within our own gender. It’s not banned exactly, but we’re warned against it. Contact leads to affection which leads to intimacy. But as I climb into my hammock, I don’t feel any of that. Just a nice guy who’s trying to help.

  I can still feel everything shifting around me, every tiny wave pushing up against the side of the boat and tipping me this way and that. But as I close my eyes, the tears drying on my cheeks, the movement doesn’t bother me. It’s almost comforting now, like a child being rocked in the arms of a parent. I allow myself to forget where I am, and soon enough I forget everything.

  It’s about midday before I finally spot land on the horizon. The sight both excites and terrifies me, and I can feel blood pumping hard in my veins as I stare at the dark line in the distance. I’d never stopped to consider what Thorne might be like – but here it is, so close I can almost smell it behind the salty sea air. A flicker of something akin to curiosity flits through me. Huh. That’s been happening a lot just lately.

  “There it is,” says Darus. I push myself up against the rails and gaze out across the sea. Excitement buzzes in my head and I bounce on my heels. The boat shifts and I lean with it; it’s only been a day, but already I’ve grown used to the way the sea moves. I’ve adapted to the salty air and the constant sound of waves, and the sound of birds overhead. So different from the bees and farm animals at the Mill, but somehow just as reminiscent of home.

  “You nervous?” he asks. I nod.

  “A little. I’ve never been completely alone before.”

  “Thorne is full of people. More than you could ever count, apparently.”

  My heart jumps a little, and I press my palm to my chest in a vague attempt to still it.

  “That’s pretty scary. Are you trying to frighten me?”

  “Just helping out.”

  “Like you haven’t done enough for me?”

  We share a smile. It’s true. He didn’t do anything more than listen and be present, but it feels like a weight is lifted. I’m not stupid. When I return to the Mill, all my problems will still be there. I’ll never be able to escape them entirely. But right now, there’s nothing I can do. I have a job to do. There’s no point moping.

  Suddenly, he lifts his hand and places it on mine. I jump, unused to the physical touch that seems to come so naturally to Dock workers.

  “S-sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  I stare down at his hand on mine. His knuckles are folded around my fingers, sending a rush of something unusual through me. Closeness? Camaraderie? Friendship? I don’t know. But then he moves away and the moment is gone.

  “Come on,” he says, “I’ll help you unhook your cart.”

  The Dock on the other side is practically identical to the first one. As the boat pulls in several men run forward, throwing out rope and steps to help us depart. As I strap myself into the cart and pull it across the deck, I notice Darus chatting with a couple of younger men. He smiles, his mouth wide, and they respond in kind. I feel a pang of jealousy. That must be nice.

  When it’s finally unloaded I pull the cart onto the loading dock and turn, looking back up at where Darus and his Dad stand, now on the boat. They lean over the railing and wave down at me.

  “Aren’t you coming down?” I call. Darus shakes his head.

  “Nope. We don’t come down unless we’re loading or unloading. And since you’re our only cargo...”

  He points across the sea.

  “...we’re heading back to the Dock to wait for the next load.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for bringing me here. And thank you, Sir.”

  His Dad seems surprised at bring called ‘Sir’, but he doesn’t seem unhappy with it. Even from down here, I can see his eyes sparkling.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Miss.”

  I stand and wait for a little while, watching in silence until the boat finally begins to move away. Darus stands at the rear of the boat, perching on the railing and looking back at the Docks. He waves. I respond in kind, and he cups his hands around his mouth.

  “See you around, Noah!”

  My smile falters; but I replace it instantly and keep waving. Once I start, I can’t stop. I wave until I can’t see his face anymore, until the boat has faded from my view. Then I lower my hand, a feeling of unease building in my gut.

  I guess I’m really on my own from here.

  The cart seems to get heavier with every step as I walk through the Dock. Here, the atmosphere seems different. Though everyone mills around in the same grey clothes, it seems much more still and solemn. There are more Guards here, too. One steps directly in front of me, Hoverbot accompanying him, and I shrink back instinctively. I haven’t done anything wrong, but somehow I already feel guilty.

  “Name?”

  It takes a second to register he’s asking a question. He taps his pen on the clipboard and growls.

  “Name.”

  I open my mouth, but
somehow the words don’t come.

  “Do you know what I’m asking, you little buzzard? Name. What do people shout at you when you fuck up?”

  “Noah.”

  He sighs.

  “They give you lot some stupid names over at the Farm.”

  I decide not to ask how he knows I’m from the Farm. Perhaps I look the part. He jots something down and indicates toward the cart.

  “What’s this?”

  “Supplies,” I croak, “I’m supposed to take them to the city.”

  He strides past me and lifts the tarp. He glances at the boxes, and I suddenly remember Rian’s warning.

  “Additional... they’re additional supplies!”

  I blurt it out, and the Guard pauses.

  “What?”

  I clear my throat and try again, this time trying to make it sound like I’m not terrified.

  “The, uh, the supplies in Thorne dwindled a little too quickly so this is a … supplementary delivery.”

  He stares for a minute, then signals to the Guards in front.

  “Alright. Go on.”

  I hesitate.

  “Um. How do I get there?”

  “God, you kids from the Farm really are stupid. Look here. See that road?”

  I look past the gate, and I can just about see a sliver of road outside.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s the only damn road for about two hundred miles. You follow it, you reach the city. Simple enough for even you to understand, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Then go.”

  The second the gate slides shut behind me, a chill shudders through me. All I can see is dirt. Not soft, brown soil, perfect for crops, or glowing white sand like the beach. Just sickly, rocky mud as far as the eye can see. The word ‘moor’ comes to mind, but I’m not sure if that’s quite right. But it’s cold, and empty, and very, very big. I’d been shocked by the size of the sea, but at least it moved. The light shimmered off its surface, making it feel alive. But this is so flat and plain that I feel tiny. I take a few steps out, but the further I get from the gate, the smaller and more lost I feel.

  I accidentally kick up some dust and start coughing. I wipe at my streaming eyes and sigh. Darus mentioned this. He said it would take days to get to the city. For a moment, I wonder what it would be like to have to sleep out here. No bed, no shelter. If it rains, I’ll be soaked. If it’s hot, I have no water to quench my thirst. Maybe I should have thought this through.