Shymers (2 page)

Although Taylor was a whole year older than me, we were each delighted to spend time with someone that we could call a friend. It wasn’t long before she grew to become the big sister I always wanted. We spent each and every day together, from the first light of dawn to the last shimmer of dusk, becoming virtually inseparable.

First we explored the forest—swimming under waterfalls, finding new trails to travel down, catching rabbits and turtles, and picking the most colorful flowers we could find to weave into our hair. After a time, however, we grew desperate for a new activity. There was only so much for two girls to do in our small area of the forest. Taylor was the one who suggested that we visit the wall to spy on the soldiers that protected the border. Our parents weren’t aware that we were traveling so far from home, and would have been very upset if they were to find out.

Once we discovered the silver monstrosity that separated us from the rest of the world, we were intrigued and returned there daily. We would stretch out in the middle of the tall grasses beside each other and share the stories our parents had passed along of the old world.
 

I already knew that in the old days, no one was told the actual date of their impending death the way people in Society are now. They lived their lives quietly, never knowing when something was going to happen—when they would be in some kind of accident or when a disease would invade their bodies. Since they didn’t know exactly when their time was going to come, they lived with the belief that there would be another tomorrow. It is the kind of life our parents want us to have by hiding us away in the forest.

Taylor shared detailed accounts of her great-grandparents’ exciting lives—visits to the ocean, travels to different parts of the country in airplanes, and going to big festivals in open fields where people gathered to listen to musicians singing. She tried to teach me how to dance as I had sometimes seen my parents doing. According to Taylor, dancing is really about swaying your body to a melody and feeling the rhythm of the beat. Between the two of us, we only know the melodies to a few dozen songs we have been taught. I have always been a terrible singer, but Taylor’s voice is sweet and airy, like the notes she sings.

I used to dream at night of the stories Taylor told, in which music festivals were an everyday part of people’s lives. Although I thought I understood why my parents didn’t want me in Society where I would be forced to know my date of death, checking off the minutes until my life would be over, I still secretly wished we lived the same way our great-grandparents had—carefree and simple.

One cooler morning just shy of a year from when we first met, Taylor patiently braided my wild hair as she does every morning to keep my neck cool from the heat that sets in later on in the day. Braiding is something Taylor learned from her mother. I have always been jealous of the intricate designs they are able to make with their golden blond locks in mere minutes, with just a twist of their hands. Taylor had spent hours trying to teach me, but eventually gave in when it seemed my fingers would never cooperate.

My thoughts were swarming with unanswered questions that had come to me in the past weeks. They were questions I never dared to ask my parents as I knew they would cause my mother to frown or her lips to form into a straight line with dismay. Nonetheless, they were questions I couldn’t push to the back of my mind, no matter how hard I tried.

“Did your mother ever tell you how she met your father?” I asked Taylor.

“Do you mean how the
y
me
t
, or how the
y
fell i
n
lov
e
?”

By her higher than usual tone, I knew she was trying not to laugh. Too often, she treated me like a little girl, which infuriated me. She wasn’
t
tha
t
much older than me, although she always did seem to know a lot more. I only know some things of love stories from books my grandmother had passed down. Still, I was constantly irritated that Taylor always knew more and that she found it necessary to mock me because of it.

“Either one,” I answered with a huff.

Taylor grinned. “They met in Society, when they were in the same school.”

I picked at a patch of grass by my feet. “My mother is always saying how Society is such a bad place and that being forced to know your exact date of death is so terrible. But I can’t figure out how it ca
n
al
l
be bad when she met my father there. I mean I wa
s
bor
n
there and my parent
s
lived ther
e
fo
r
year
s
.”

“Society is nothing more than a place filled with rules and conformists,” Taylor said. “And our parents don’t want us to know our DOD. They don’t want us to have to answer to the government like people there do. That’s not how life is supposed to be. They have sacrificed everything to give us this life.”

I drew away from her, letting my hair fall from her hands. “I know. But how are we ever going to meet anyone the way our parents did if we aren’t allowed to ever go into Society? I haven’t been around a boy long enough to even call him a friend. Aren’t you curious what it’s like to kiss one? Don’t you want to know what it would be like to fall in love, like our parents did?”

I never told her of my grandmother’s books as I knew she would only tease me for it. But the girl in my favorite love story wasn’t much older than I was, and she fell in love with a boy. Someday I hope to fall in love, just as she did.

Taylor frowned down at the ruined braid and shrugged. “I think they hope we’ll live with them forever out here in the Free Lands. When we’re older, maybe we’ll meet boys that will come along someday and decide to stay. Things could be a lot worse, Olive. At least we have each other now.”

I stood and crossed my arms. “Don’t you wonder what Society is really like? Wouldn’t you at least like to see what things go on there? Don’t you wonder if there is something more over there that they’re protecting us from? At what point will they decide we’re old enough to decide for ourselves where we want to live?”

“Your fathe
r
die
d
there, Olive,” Taylor said in a gentle voice. “What more do you need to know? Whatever is going on in Society, our parents are doing everything they can to protect us from it. Why are you suddenly questioning that?”

Frustrated, I sighed deeply. I could usually count on her to take my side on things, but when it came to this subject, she seemed stubbornly set in her ways—the very same ways that had been drilled into us by our parents.

“I don’t fully understand what exactly they’re protecting u
s
fro
m
, Taylor. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad knowing exactly when you were going to die. Maybe there are other things that make it worth knowing.”

Taylor only looked up at me with her lips held in a tight line.

After that afternoon, she refused to talk to me about Society ever again. I didn’t know if it was because she was tired of arguing with me, or if she was afraid that maybe…just maybe…I was right.

2 – You Have to Run

It is the morning of my sixteenth birthday. My mother wakes me before the sun is fully up to give me a present as she does every year. I untie the string and tear the paper off excitedly to find a blouse in a light shade of pink. It is made of unbelievably soft fabric that flutters with the movement of the air. “It’s beautiful,” I say. She leans in to wrap her arms around me and kiss my forehead. “Happy birthday, baby girl.”

Smiling, I kiss her cheek. “Thank you.”

“I have something else for you,” she whispers, leaning down beside the bed. I hear the striking of a match and see the flicker of a flame in the low light. She hands me a cup of fresh berries with a lit candle sticking out of the top. “Make a wish.”

Two things immediately come to mind—I want to see what it is like in Society, and I want to meet a boy. Not just any boy, but one like those in my grandmother’s books—charming, handsome, full of compassion.

I grin when I puff on the flame. My mother watches on with a brilliant smile, which only makes me feel guilty for wanting these things I know she would not approve of.

Victor clears his throat from where he patiently waits at the doorway. “Happy birthday, Olive. I’m sorry your mother can’t stay with you today.”

My mother nods, running her hands through my hair. “We have to get going. But remember how much I love you, my sweet girl. I’ll be thinking of you all day long.”

I lean into her for another embrace. “I love you, too. Be safe.”

As I watch the two of them leave our home, I am filled with an unsettling guilt for wanting such selfish things when my mother puts herself in danger nearly every day to keep me safe.

After Taylor wakes, she presents me with a bracelet she made from grasses and twine. Sahara prepares a large breakfast and they both sing the birthday song to me.

With the unbearably warm heat the early afternoon brings, Taylor and I run down to the creek where we splash each other, trying to stay cool. Although the water is also fairly warm, it soothes the burning heat of our skin. Taylor flashes her stunning smile and laughs in her usual sing-song voice while we drench each other down to the bone.

“Enough!” I cry out, holding my hands in front of my face, laughing. “You’re going to drown me on my birthday!”

Taylor’s lips spread into a grin. “Speaking of, what did you wish for this morning?”

“You just want me to tell you so it won’t come true,” I whine, shaking my head.

She steps forward to nudge me. “It had something to do with
a
bo
y
, didn’t it?”

Heat instantly creeps into my face. I turn away, hoping Taylor hasn’t seen. “Why would you think that?”

Taylor laughs. “Olive, I’m your best friend. You
r
onl
y
friend. You really think I don’t know everything that goes on in that head of yours?”

I am ready to say something in my defense when, all at once, Sahara appears from amidst thick bushes. Her eyes are wild and she is out of breath, as if she has been running for her life. Her usually well-kept blond hair sticks out in wild bursts around her head, forming a type of halo around her gentle face that is slick with perspiration.

“Taylor, we have to go!” she cries, dashing forward and reaching for her daughter’s hand. “We have to leave before they find us!” Her words are rushed, with an edge of terror to them. Taylor and I exchange terse glances with each other. Her mother is usually calm and relaxed. Something must be terribly wrong for her to seem so upset.

Taylor refuses to budge, despite her mother’s best efforts to pull her away. Her light eyebrows turn down into a dark crease when she looks back at her mother. “What do you mean? Who’s going to find us?”

“Soldiers! They came to your father’s work site today! They took him away, Taylor, and now they’ll be coming for us! We have to hurry!” Sahara’s words come out in near screams.

Taylor and I face each other with more confounded looks. We know full well that it’s dangerous not to be registered—to be living in the Free Lands as we are—and the consequences of being discovered are severe. Our parents stress the importance of this, saying we could be forever locked away if we were to be found. It’s one of the reasons we were told not to venture out by the border.

Taylor may have lost her father forever, just as I lost mine.

With wide eyes, I turn to Sahara. “How do you know? Where is my mother?”

“One of the men from Victor’s work place sent someone to give me the message. I’m sure your mother is fine, sweetheart.” But there is no confidence behind what she’s saying anywhere on her face.

“What about Olive?” Taylor asks, motioning to where I stand.

Sahara’s eyes dance between her daughter and me, as if maybe for a fleeting moment she actually considers taking me along. My heart thrums excitedly in my chest with the possibility of going somewhere beyond the forest until I remember my mother will not return for many hours. Will it be safe for her to cross back into the Free Lands without Victor?

Sahara’s shoulders fall and she turns to place her soft hands on my arms. “Sweetheart, you have to hide until your mother returns. If you hear any strange noises, don’t come out. Even if you hear…” Her eyes flip back to Taylor and she swallows hard. “Just stick to the shadows until nighttime falls. Your mother will know to meet you near the highest waterfall, just as we had planned for an emergency like this.”

Taylor’s lower lip pushes out. She looks back at her mother, her eyes filled with pools of tears. “Will I ever see Olive again?”

“One day,” Sahara answers quietly. We all know it’s an empty promise. Still, she knows it’s the only answer we want to hear. “But only if we run, Taylor. We have to leave.”

Taylor and I shake with sobs as we hold on to each other and say our goodbyes.

“W
e
wil
l
see each other again!” Taylor whispers into my ear. I only nod, hoping she is right, hoping this is not the end. When Taylor’s mother finally succeeds in pulling her away, the last thing I see is Taylor’s piercing blue eyes watching me, holding the same look of terror that is most likely reflected in my own.