Under Ground (11 page)

“So what happens to homeless
girls?” I ask again.

“The officers take them away. They
either serve in the camps or in joy houses.”

“Joy houses? Do you mean they
become prostitutes?"

He nods and I shudder.

"But those girls are upper
class!”

“Yes, they are," he replies. "But
once they lose their status, they become disposable."

How could I not have noticed
that before?
I’ve been too self-absorbed to pay heed to those
without influence over my life. Grief fills me quickly, a surge of
shame flowing over me. I've been so self-centered for so many
years, it nauseates me.

“Do the families know about this?”
I ask.

“Most of them don’t, and those who
do know just don't care. A lot of families have been brainwashed.
They believe their daughters have dishonored them. They think they
shouldn’t have to pay the price for it. After a girl reaches a
certain age, the authorities cut down the amount of resources her
family is allowed to get. These people can keep their daughter and
have a lower standard of living—they need to share their supplies
with her and it’s often not enough—or they can push her away and
keep on living the way they’re used to, by not having to feed a
useless mouth. I thought you knew all this. Isn't that why you were
willing to marry William?"

I don't answer. Of course, I knew
that each family was allowed to buy a certain amount of food and
resources each week. It’s illegal to go past that quantity, but I
wasn’t aware that the amount got cut once the girls reached the age
of marriage. Now I understand why my mother has been so harsh and
intransigent. A sudden pang of guilt stabs at me for being here. My
wedding isn't just about Father's promotion, it's about our very
survival. A tremor of fear shudders through my heart.

Chapter 12

Chi has opened a
door to a different world,
a place even nastier than the one
I’ve been living in. The terror growing inside me is mixed with
anger that's slowly turning into rage. A part of me wants to know
more while the other part wishes to remain innocent and ignorant of
all those terrible things happening in New York State.

When Chi and I meet that week, our
conversations are serious. He's been taking a big risk in meeting
me and an even greater one in telling me the truth about our
society. I can’t believe he trusts me enough to expose himself in
such a way. I feel lighter every time I get to see him, but the
burden on my shoulders gets heavier as his secrets bring me down
under their weight.

“How do you know for sure your
parents were taken to a camp?” I ask one day.

Chi's good mood disappears within
seconds as sudden pain crosses his eyes. “I know because I was
there when it happened,” he replies. He lowers his gaze as if to
examine the ground. He moves the dirt around with the tip of his
foot, and his jaw clenches as well as his hands.

“Mom and Dad weren’t exactly what
you'd call ordinary people,” he says. “They never believed in the
system. You see, my father was very much in love with my mom, and
their feelings were mutual. He always treated her with love and
respect. To him, she wasn't an object or anything like that; she
was his equal."

Chi looks in the distance, his
memories bittersweet. “Then the rebels appeared and the authorities
started hunting for those who were different. I didn’t know it at
the time, but my parents were part of the rebellion. I never found
out what their role was in it. But I know we weren’t like other
families. I have a brother, you see. A twin.”

Looking at him, Chi seems so
ordinary. It's hard to believe he's an illegal born above the
amount allowed.

“
My mother explained it all to me
when I was five years old. I was a second child born in a family
only allowed to have one. My parents were upper-middle class, so
only one child was authorized. I was born a few minutes after my
brother. That small amount of time made me the Unwanted, you see.
Mom told me that if the authorities found out about me, they would
take me away, and she didn’t want to risk that.

"When she was pregnant with us,
she knew twins had already been born in her family before, so it
was a high probability. Abortion was never an option for her. She
simply refused it. She went to see a friend of hers, a doctor from
the Underground.”

The Underground? What's the
Underground?
I try to cut Chi off and ask, but he's too caught
up in his own story to stop.

“The doctor confirmed she would
have twins, so my mom gave birth to us at home and hid me from the
very beginning. Because of my condition, my brother and I were
never allowed outside at the same time. We couldn’t have normal
family outings or usual play-dates with friends. Only my brother
went to a regular school. I was homeschooled by my mom.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes
searching mine for a reaction. I'm stunned into silence, unable to
offer any comfort.

“Didn’t you have to share
resources?” I ask.

He stares at his hand for a while,
flexing his knuckles and opening his fingers a few times, before
lifting his sullen eyes again.

“Yes, we had to share food and
everything. It was hard, but my parents never complained about it.
They just seemed happy to have both of us home.”

“How did they manage to hide your
existence for so long?”

His hand reaches out for the grass
next to him and he starts pulling at it while talking, his eyes
pinned on that spot, avoiding mine the entire time. “They didn’t.
When I was nine years old, I’d had enough of being inside one day
and I sneaked into the backyard when my brother was already there.
Mom was upstairs doing the laundry. The phone rang inside the
house, and when my mom came downstairs, she couldn’t find me and
she freaked out.

"When she found us wrestling on
the grass outside, she pulled me back inside. A neighbor had seen
me." His voice fills with deep heartache, almost choking him. "It
was such a stupid thing to do. I didn’t even understand the
consequences yet.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You were
just a kid,” I try to comfort him.

His eyes meet mine, the sorrow in
him pouring through his gaze like a flood of despair. “
It
doesn’t matter
. What I did cost them too much.” He raises his
voice with woe. Then he looks away again, the anguish in him still
transparent. “My mom called my dad at work. All I heard was,
'they're coming for the kids.' She couldn’t talk about it on the
phone, and my dad couldn’t leave work 'cause it'd be too obvious.
My parents had already planned everything in case this ever
happened.

"My mom took my brother and me to
the car, and then we drove for over an hour. My brother and I had
to hide under a blanket for the entire ride. Mom said we'd be
staying with some woman for a while—that it was like a vacation or
something and that she'd be back for us soon. I didn’t understand.
I’d never been away from home before. I thought she was abandoning
us.”

I try and envision Chi as a
child—a little boy who never should have been born. Back then, he
already knew he wasn't supposed to be alive. I imagine him left
behind with some stranger, not knowing what was going on, worried
that his parents might never come back. My heart aches for that
frightened little boy.

“How come your mom had a car?” I
ask, the question gnawing at me.

“I actually never found out. We've
always owned a car. My parents probably got one through their
relationship with the Underground.”

He pauses, as if pondering this
puzzle. “I don’t know what happened in the meantime, but we stayed
with that woman for a few weeks," he says. "When Mom and Dad
finally came to pick us up, we had to hide during the entire trip
again. We drove for over an hour. My parents had moved us to a
different county. We couldn't cross the state line, but we all had
new identities. We didn’t own a house anymore; they just left our
home behind, without selling it. We had to rent a new place. My
parents had lost everything because of me.”

“You were just a kid,” I tell him
again.

“That’s what I keep telling
myself, but it doesn’t change what I did. I was old enough to know
better."

I want to reassure him, make him
feel better, but I don’t know how. And he just keeps on blurting
words out, in a failing attempt at freeing his chest from all the
guilt.

“My dad got a new job, but it
wasn’t nearly as good. I have no clue how my parents managed to get
resources. But I know they had relations in the Underground. They
knew rebels who worked for the authorities. You can change your
identity and get a new life if you’re skilled enough and know the
right people.”

That’s quite surprising to hear. I
always thought the authorities kept good track of everyone. After
all, that’s the only way to prevent overpopulation. If people can
pull strings to become someone else entirely, then our system is
flawed and there may be no sense or reason behind the way it
works.

“My brother went to a different
school, and I stayed home with my mom. Our new location was hidden
in the woods, so I had a lot more freedom. We lived like that for a
good eight years. I don’t really know how we made it, honestly,
'cause our resources were cut really short. But my dad started
hunting a lot and stuff.

"One day, I was upstairs reading
when some officers broke down our front door. The authorities had
found us. My mother came to my room. We had already discussed this
before, and I knew what to do. I hid in a concealed space in my
closet. Mom ordered me not to come out, no matter what I might
hear. She wanted me to wait till it was safe to get out. She told
me she’d meet me at her friends' house when she could. And like a
freaking idiot, I believed her.”

He shakes his head before looking
away again. A crease has appeared on his forehead and his hands
have balled into fists of anger.

“Then a gunshot resonated through
the house and someone screamed. It was her, my mother. But I’d made
a promise. I couldn't get out. People were coming up the stairs,
talking—officers, you know. They wanted me, the child born beyond
their supervision—the affront to their authority."

Chi gives a deep sigh, his
shoulders sagging. I’ve never seen a boy so strong and yet so
fragile before. The look on his face cuts like a knife. I want to
hold him, tell him that everything’s okay, but that would be a lie
and I don’t know him well enough to give him such comfort. Nothing
I could say would alleviate his pain. I press my head against his
shoulder instead and take his hand in mine, intertwining my fingers
with his. He looks at me, shocked, with questions in his eyes, but
he doesn’t say anything and we remain like that until he's ready to
talk again.

He pulls back eventually and
resumes his story. The emotions are still flowing through his
voice. “I waited for hours in that closet. When everything was
silent, I came out. I assumed the authorities would be watching out
for me, but for some reason, they had deserted the place. It must
have been pretty late 'cause it was dark already. It took me hours
to reach the Wilcoxes’ house. They were my parents' friends, you
know. When I got there, their lights were turned off. But when I
showed up on their doorsteps, Mrs. Wilcox just took me in without
any questions. I didn’t even need to explain; she already knew what
my presence meant. I never saw my parents again after
that.”

I squeeze his hand. “What do you
think happened to them?”

“They were taken to the camps.
There’s no doubt about it. I’ve been looking for two years and I've
finally found their location.”

“How?”

“I’m not alone. There’s a group of
us, in the Underground. There are others looking for their families
or simply seeking freedom.”

“Freedom? You mean that you hang
out with rebels?” The question sounds wrong the moment the words
come out, but it’s too late to take it back.

“My own birth was a rebellion,
Thia! There's nowhere else I can go. That’s where I
belong!”

I try to change the subject
swiftly. My question obviously stung him and I don't want him to be
upset with me. “How did you manage to get a legal status and go to
school?”

“The Wilcoxes used to have a son.
He committed suicide a few years ago. They never knew why, and it’s
been a sore subject we’ve always avoided. They never told anyone
about it. They saw it as parental failure and they were ashamed of
it. They didn't want to attract unwanted attention to themselves
because of their link to the Underground. They didn't want people
prying into their privacy, so they buried their son in secret. When
I stepped on their threshold, they gave me his name and I became
their son.”

"No one ever wondered about his
disappearance?" I ask, confused.

"The authorities worry more about
births than deaths. And their system is far from perfect. It has a
bunch of flaws they're not even aware of."

“So, Chi isn’t your real name?” I
ask, still shocked at how defective the system is.