Authors: S. C. Ransom
That was the problem. The teachers at school said bullying was unacceptable but unless you had actual proof there was no point in telling them. All it would do was land you in more trouble. I just had to put up with the hate mail. It could only be from Jenny, and I was the easy target to pick on now. She seemed to know everything about me and my dull life with no family, few friends and no hope of a boyfriend. It gave her plenty of ammunition for her texts.
Aria was still looking bemused. “What message?”
“On my phone,” I said, trying and failing to keep the incredulity out of my voice. “You know – a text message. See?”
I turned the phone round to show her, but it didn’t change the confused frown on her face. She took the handset and ran her fingers over the surface.
“That’s the sort of stuff she’s been saying.” I pointed to the screen where Jenny’s latest thoughts, this time about my weight, were still partially visible.
“I don’t understand,” she said in a small voice.
“Read it from the beginning,” I sighed, leaning over to scroll back up to the top of the message. Aria let out a small squeal as the characters moved, and dropped the phone.
“How does it do that?” she whispered, whipping her hands under the table as if she was expecting the phone to bite her.
“Do what?”
“How do you make the picture move? I mean, I’ve heard about moving pictures from the Listeners, and I saw the funny ones on the moving stairs, but I don’t understand what they’re for.”
“What picture? And what’s a Listener?”
“The squiggles on there –
the picture
,” she said, bringing one hand up to point at the screen.
“But that’s just a text. It’s not a picture.” At that moment the screen saver kicked in, showing a photo of Beanie looking cute in her little collar. “That’s a picture…”
Aria looked as if I had electrified her. Her hand whipped away from the phone again, and she actually hissed.
“What’s that?”
“It’s my cat, actually, or she was, until a little while ago.”
I looked at her soft little face, tiny paws and friendly eyes. Who was looking after her now, I wondered for the thousandth time, and were they making her happy? For a moment I could almost feel her soft fur under my hand, and I had to fight a sudden choking feeling in my throat.
It wasn’t helpful to think like that.
I turned the phone face down and sat back. Aria was looking at me with horror.
“You like that thing?” she asked, pointing at the phone.
“Do you mean Beanie? Of course I like her. She was my cat. Well, kitten really, but she’s … she’s gone now.” I paused for a second, gathering myself. “I’m guessing that you’re not a cat person then?”
“Of course not! No one likes animals. Why would they?”
“Well, don’t sit on the fence then!” I said.
Every time I thought of Beanie my eyes still filled with tears. Luckily Jenny didn’t know about that or it would have become yet another thing to ridicule me about. I had last seen my little cat when she was about eight months old – bigger than a kitten but not a proper cat, and still happy to play all the kittenish games. Her favourite was chasing a torch beam across the floor, and we had played that so often that I emptied half the batteries in the house. Dad had been especially cross about that, but then he had been annoyed about a lot of things, and I still felt guilty that I missed my cat more than I missed him. For a moment into my mind flashed the twins, my little brothers. I missed them more than anything, but couldn’t afford to let myself think about them.
I blinked hard to keep the tears back, not daring to
look up. Maybe I didn’t want anything to do with this girl, not if she was an animal-hater. The thought that I might be with someone like Jenny stiffened my resolve. I sat back and stared at her, but was instantly taken aback. Rather than the scorn or disgust I was expecting to see on her face, there was only puzzlement.
“I’m sorry,” she faltered. “Have I upset you? It’s just that where I’m from, well, we don’t like animals. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
There was no doubting the sincerity in her voice.
“It’s OK,” I said. “If you don’t like cats, you don’t like cats. It’s not as if she’s around any more.”
“So much up here is strange. I didn’t realise … I always imagined that I would know enough to get by…”
“Get by? What are you doing here, Aria?”
As I asked the question the phone vibrated against the table and I looked down.
My fist clenched around the phone as I read Jenny’s latest message. It was a new low, even for her.
“What is it, Lily? What’s the matter? Are you cross?” Aria asked.
I looked up at the stranger sitting opposite me, a stranger who needed help, and who wanted to be my friend. My decision was suddenly easy.
“Come on, Aria, let’s go. I’m taking you home with me.”
We are leaving the place with all the food and walking now, walking along the edge of the walls. I try not to look up, because nothing is there and it feels so wrong. The light is bright in my eyes and I have to screw them up tightly so that I’m not blinded. Everything is so big and so loud. Huge machines are roaring past, and their smell is terrible. There are hundreds and hundreds of people and all of them seem to be in a hurry. They come in all shapes and sizes and in different skin colours as well, and a few have pale-yellow hair. The smell of the people is terrible too, but Lily doesn’t seem to notice. We are leaving behind the stairs that lead back to my life. Turning round I can see people pouring through the entrance, only pausing to pick up the folded papers from the big racks. As we turn a corner I wonder if I can find
my way back. And if I can, what will be waiting for me?
It was a slow walk home: Aria kept stopping dead to stare at people, which was a bit embarrassing. I couldn’t understand her. She was certainly behaving as if she had been underground for her entire life, but I really didn’t see how that was possible. Surely whole communities of people couldn’t be living under the city?
I kept close to her as we walked down the street, calming her when a siren made her jump and when the cars on the street stopped in a queue next to us, engines racing. We were nearly home when Foggy bounced round the corner, dragging Will behind him. Foggy was a lively dog, mostly golden retriever but with a fair few other things thrown in. He immediately leapt up to say hello.
“Hi, Lily, how are you?” asked Will, smiling. “Get down, Foggy!”
He wrestled with the huge, hairy dog but quickly gave up. Foggy continued to slobber over me.
“Oh, hi, Will. Um, great, thank you. Hi, Foggy.”
I rubbed Foggy’s ears before pushing him away with as much force as I could muster, and he finally dropped back to the floor. I brushed the dirt from my sleeve and tried to think of something interesting to say.
I’d known Will forever, from the time when we were both young and I came to visit Nan, but since I’d moved in with her I’d realised how gorgeous he had become.
He was very friendly but I worried that he just thought of me as a kid. He was only a year ahead of me at school though, so I was doing my best to get him to see me as potential girlfriend material. Finally my plans seemed to going in the right direction, and he smiled at me again as he hauled in Foggy’s lead. I smiled back and turned to introduce Aria.
She was pressed back against the window of the launderette, her face a picture of terror. Foggy, sensing fun, dived for her. Aria let out a blood-curdling scream and he froze. She was scrabbling to get away, hands reaching behind her across the smooth glass. Her eyes stayed fixed on the dog, and he bolted as she screamed again. Will was yanked across the pavement on the end of the lead.
“Easy,” he said, calming down the dog, who was now shaking with fear behind his knees. He glared at Aria. “You’ve frightened him.”
Aria gulped but said nothing, her lower lip quivering. Will turned to me.
“What’s her problem?” he asked under his breath, his glorious dark eyes flashing. “I’d better get going – the noise has upset Foggy.”
And with that he was gone – another wasted opportunity to actually talk with him. I watched his retreating back for a moment, before sighing and turning back to Aria, who was shaking so much it looked as if she might be having a panic attack.
“You’re OK, calm down. It’s only a dog and he’s gone now.” I tried patting her on the arm to see if that helped, but it made her jump again. “Look, nothing much can really hurt you out here unless you leap into the road in front of a car or bus, OK? There’s no need to scream.”
I took her arm and led her the rest of the way down the street to the place that was now my home. Nan lived in the ground-floor flat of an old terraced town house. Outside, the whole row was shabby and dirty, the stairs to the flats below covered in old newspapers and Burger King wrappers. She had been there for decades, obsessively cleaning her windows so that she could watch the passing world. She wanted to be on the top floor to get a better view, she had told me, but her arthritis had been giving her trouble for some time and it was all she could do to climb the four short steps up to the front door. She kept the brass-work on it gleaming too, but that and her windows were the only bits of the entire building that weren’t covered in a thick layer of London grime.
I had been living with her for about six months, crammed into a tiny box room that really wasn’t designed for the job. I had had to part with most of my stuff; only those belongings that really mattered were finally allowed across the threshold. There was absolutely no space for another bed, so I pushed aside the thought about what I was actually going to do with Aria and mentally filed it as a problem for later.
Something will
come up,
I told myself, hoping to get back the bravado that had made me invite her home in the first place.
Still holding Aria by the elbow, I steered her up the steps.
“This is it – I live here with Nan,” I muttered, horribly aware of just how grubby and unappealing it looked.
She was still jumping at every noise, and then it started to rain. Fat drops fell on to the step and I could feel them hitting my head and hands. Aria went rigid, and I could see old Mrs Mallion next door twitch her curtains. I fished the key out of my bag and almost shoved Aria through the door, grateful that Nan was out for the moment.
I expected a comment about the rain, but Aria was standing in the small hallway, mesmerised.
“You put coloured fur on the walls!” She reached out to touch it.
“Are you taking the mickey?”
“I don’t know what that means,” she replied, running her hands gingerly across the red flock wallpaper. Nan had told me it was ironic. I just thought it looked like an old curry house.
“It’s beautiful,” breathed Aria, continuing to gaze around in wonder, her fingertips never leaving the surface. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Lily’s home is unbelievable: so much space, and so many pretty things! I’m glad to be inside, away from the brightness and the sky. I know that’s what it’s called,
but I didn’t expect it to be so far away. It makes me feel nervous. I understand now why the Listeners have to learn so much before they can come Above. I’m sure Dane would have explained more of it to me, but I’m not supposed to be here; I was only supposed to be in the tunnels. Everything here is bright, even inside, and it makes my eyes and head hurt.
Lily leads me through lots of different rooms to one she says is just for her, with no need to share at all. Lily and her family must get very lonely in the night if they can’t whisper to each other.
I’ve never seen anything as lovely as Lily’s room. She has her own window and an unbelievably soft bed with a really thick cover. On the walls are pictures of boys and at the end of the bed a cubbyhole full of things that make me gasp. I look at them closely, hardly daring to believe what I’m seeing. There is a long line of colourful strips, some with glittery writing, each attached to the side of a rectangular-shaped object, like a thin box.
“Go on,” she says. “You can take one if you want.”
I run my fingers along the edge and then carefully pull one of the prettier ones. It slides out noiselessly. There are glittering swirls on the front, and I lift the cover to see if it is a box, or if I am right.
“That’s one of my favourites too,” says Lily with a smile, throwing herself down on the bed. “You’ve got good taste in books!”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“What?”
“A book? These are all books?”
Lily’s mouth opens into a round O, but she says nothing. I carefully turn the page, looking at the words I can’t understand. I am actually holding a book. I never thought that would be possible.
“Why are you allowed to have them?” I whisper, looking back at the rows of others.
“You’ve never seen a book before?”
Her voice has gone oddly squeaky. I shake my head.
“I know that they exist and I think that the Community has a few, but we’re not allowed to see them.”
“WHAT?” she splutters.”You’re not allowed to see books? How did you learn to read?”
I laugh at her mistake. “I can’t read – I’m a child! They don’t teach us that.”
I stroke the pages gently, feeling the softness of the paper and the slight roughness of the words. There are hundreds of pages. I know that it contains secret information, and habit forces me to whisper again.
“What secret does this one tell?”
She waits for a moment before speaking, a look on her face that might be pity, but then she whispers back.
“There’s no secret in there; it’s just a story about a girl falling in love.”
What Lily is saying makes no sense to me. There can’t possibly be a book that doesn’t tell a secret.
“You mean like a fairy story?” I ask. “The type of thing
we tell to babies?”
Lily seems puzzled again. “No – well, maybe. It is fiction – made-up stuff – but it’s not a fairy story. Most of them are stories set in real life.”
I hold the book closer to me and let my eyes wander over all the others.
“Are they all stories?” I ask eventually.
Lily smiles. “Yup – every one! Would you like to hear one?”
I nod speechlessly and she jumps up to choose. “Make yourself comfy on the bed and I’ll find us a short one, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”
She picks a book that is bigger and heavier than the rest, with a bright, shiny cover.
“OK, I know exactly which one you’ll like,” she says as she casually turns the pages of the book. Suddenly she looks up at me, frowning. “Did you just say that you can’t read because you’re a kid?”
“Of course. What would be the point? Only a few of us will need to read to do our tasks when we’re Assigned, and almost none of the girls get to read. I can’t think of one who can.” I pause for a moment, wondering if I can ask such a question, then decide that I must. “Why has your leader allowed it?”
“Do you mean my dad?”
“No, not your father. The leader. The one who is in charge and decides what you must do.”
Lily sits back on the bed with a thump, and after a
second of silence begins to laugh. Then, just as quickly, she stops.
“I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t mean to do that, but really…”
“I don’t understand. Again.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” I see her struggling and failing to keep the incredulous tone from her voice. “It’s just that here – in my world – everyone can read. And no one will tell me what I can do with my life! I’ll make my own decisions, and as soon as I’m old enough and out of school I won’t even have to listen to Nan.”
I see it in her eyes, the passion and the honesty. She has no master, no one directing every detail of her existence. The girl I was supposed to capture is freer than I will ever be.
Aria had definitely answered one of my big questions: she was not making everything up. She really did live underground in a secret community with leaders who refuse to let the children learn. It was positively medieval. There was no way I was going to be able to send her back, even if there was a way to get past the creatures in the tunnels. I couldn’t send her back to a place with no books, where she wasn’t allowed to read. It was absolutely out of the question.