The Settlers (19 page)

More up.
 

There's no more up you can go!
 

You're not listening to me.
You never listen when you get like this.
 

Look, the North Pole is the top.
There's no more up.
 

You weren't listening.
 

All I do is listen to you!

I didn't say north, asshole.
I said up.

Bernard and his granddaughter are somewhere in the middle of the line.
The girl is still on his shoulder, but sleeping now.
 

Micah falls out of the line and quickly walks to where the old man is standing.

Hey, someone says.
 

Micah turns and, walking backward, says, No, no, I'm not jumping the line.
It's okay.

He reaches Bernard and puts his hand on the old man's shoulder.
Bernard, he says.

Bernard turns.
He is sweating profusely.
 

Micah, the old man says.
 

Are you okay?

Bernard nods at the girl.
She is not a little bird any more.
But she is tired, and so for now, I will hold her as long as I can.
 

It's a long line, though, Micah says.

You are an astute observer, Bernard replies, not without some sarcasm.

I brought you something, Bernard.
Here.

Bernard's eyebrows raise.
Oh?
 

Here, Micah repeats.

Bernard looks down and sees Micah's hand holding a gray card.
The old man's eyes widen.
What are you doing, Micah?
he asks.
Do you know what that is?
 

Sort of, Micah says.
 

You don't have to be here, man.
Go!
 

Bernard turns, looking about for an administrator.
 

Micah grabs his shoulder.
No, he says.
I want you to take it.

Bernard jostles the woman ahead of him in line.
She whirls about.

I'm sorry, Bernard says.
But the woman's irritation is defused by the card she sees in Micah's hand.

Dear god, she says.
You have a card?
You have a card!

No, Micah says.
No, it's --

Who has a card?
someone else says.
 

This man here has a card, the woman says.
 

Micah turns back to Bernard.
I want you to have this, he says.
Please.
 

He tries to push the card into Bernard's hand, but the old man snatches his hand away.
What are you doing?
Micah!

Take it, Micah repeats.

It is too much, Bernard protests.
It is too valuable.
I can't.
 

Give it to me, the woman interrupts, reaching for the card.
 

Micah turns away from her.
It's not for you, he says.
 

If you're giving it away, I want it, someone else says.

Micah presses the card into Bernard's hand again.
Please.
It would help you.
 

The line begins to come apart around the two men.
Strangers surge into the gaps, pushing.
 

I'll take it!
someone shouts.
 

Give it to me!

I must have it!
It would change my baby's life!

Please!

Me!
 

Give it!

Micah takes advantage of the commotion to close Bernard's fingers around the card.
The old man looks confused to find the card in his hand, and Micah tries to melt away in the mob of passengers.
 

What's happening here?
a deep voice booms.

Instantly the crowd begins to dissolve, and Micah sees one of the red-suited administrators stalking towards him.
He's carrying a baton in one hand.
 

Nothing, someone says.
 

Everything's fine!
 

I didn't do it!

It's not mine!

The administrator spies the card in Bernard's hand.
His gaze shifts to Bernard's worried face, then back to the card.

Sir, the administrator says to Bernard.
 

It's not his card, someone snitches.
 

The administrator turns toward the passengers behind Bernard, then looks back at Bernard.
Is this true?
Is this your card?

Bernard is petrified.
His granddaughter starts awake, her face flushed.
 

Grandpa?
she says, her voice fuzzy with sleep.

Sir?
Is that card yours?

Bernard holds up the card, unable to find his voice.

It's mine, Micah says, stepping forward.
 

Bernard's entire body relaxes, and the card falls to the floor.
 

The administrator puts the toe of his boot on the card.
He studies Micah's face carefully, then his attire.
 

This card belongs to you?
he asks Micah.

Micah nods.
It does.

This man did not steal it from you?
The administrator indicates Bernard with his baton.
 

Bernard tenses at the sight of the stick pointed in his direction.
 

Micah reaches out and tips the baton toward the floor.
The administrator steps back quickly.

Absolutely he didn't steal it, Micah says.
I wanted to give it to him.

The administrator looks suspicious.
You wanted to give him your Onyx card.

Bernard finds his voice.
I didn't try to take it!

Onyx cards are not transferable, the administrator says sternly.
 

I didn't want it!
Bernard cries.

I didn't know that, Micah says.
 

I find that difficult to believe, the administrator says.
Every Onyx cardholder knows that the card is not transferable.

I didn't, Micah says.
I inherited it from my wife.

From your wife, the administrator echoes.

She's gone, Micah says.
I wanted to give the card away.
 

Bernard looks at Micah.
His expression changes.
All of his alarm and tension vanishes, and in its place is a look of such pure compassion that Micah has to turn away.
He knows that look.
He's seen it before, on other faces.
On the faces of people who have lost people.
On the faces of people who still feel the prick of loss every morning when they turn over in bed.
 

It doesn't really work that way, sir, the administrator says.
 

I didn't know that.
 

It's alright, the administrator says.
Then he turns his mouth into his wrist and says something that Micah doesn't quite hear.
 

Micah glances at Bernard, who is still looking at him with those terribly sad eyes.
 

It's okay, Micah mouths at him.
 

Bernard shakes his head sadly and mouths something back that looks like, So young.
 

Then an escort in a soft gray uniform arrives, and the administrator says to Micah, Please, allow Mr.
Hedderly to take your bag.
 

The escort smiles at Micah.
His teeth are impossibly white.
Every last one of them is perfectly placed and perfectly visible.
May I, sir?
 

Micah sighs and looks at Bernard, and then at the administrator.
Couldn't I just stay in line?
 

Behind him, a woman says, He did
not
just say that.
 

I'm afraid not, sir, the administrator says.
May I?

He holds his hand out for the card.

Micah gives it to him.

Your thumb, sir.

The administrator turns the card over to reveal the rectangle printed there.

Micah sighs again, then presses his thumb down on the rectangle.
The card lights up, and Mae's face appears on its surface.
Her name, identification code, and physical attributes are drawn in beside it.

Mae Isabella Atherton-Sparrow

0522FG010-EPG

H 5'3"
 
W 112

Micah stares at the photograph of Mae.
He remembers the day that they visited the Settlement Transition Bureau.
They had fought that day.
He hadn't wanted to go, which was usually enough to deter Mae.
That day had been different.
She had gone anyway, without telling him, and it wasn't until weeks later that he found the Onyx card in her bag while he was looking for the chocolates she often kept hidden there.
He had been angry.
 

The photograph was perhaps the most beautiful picture of Mae he had ever seen.
It was low-quality, with artifacts that interrupted the image.
Like most global agencies, the STB didn't spend much on equipment.
It didn't matter how bad the photograph itself was.
The image of Mae that shone through was beautiful because of her expression.
 

It was the purest expression of happiness and hope.
Her eyes were alive, brighter and larger than life.
Her smile stretched wider than he had imagined possible, shoving her round cheeks high.
Her skin was flushed, as if she couldn't believe what was happening, couldn't contain her excitement.

He had never seen her so happy before.