Reflected Echo
Page 1
One
March 1. A simple day between February 28 and March 2. A day that, in any other year, would have merely been a day filled with classes and an assembly. There was always an assembly on March 1. This year, though, rather than watching it, Echo would be up on stage with the other tenth-year students at Bakerton High School before beginning their Citizen Fitness Examination. An exam that she had spent the last six months preparing for. Six months of group study sessions in the basement of Housing Block 2983A, countless hours of private study under her sheets with a flashlight, and day after day of in-class studying. Six months of worrying that she would fail the test.
Echo laid in her bed littered with study guides, notes, and practice exams and stared at the charcoal soundproofing panels that covered her ceiling. The incessant beeping of the alarm clock was easy to ignore, but the frigid sheets were not. She hated having time-activated bedding that would decide when she had dawdled too long. With one last deep sigh, she resigned herself to the day ahead, turned off her alarm, and slid off the bed onto the battleship gray foam tiled floor. Charlie watched with great excitement as she crawled across the floor to his dog bed. His tail thudded dully against the floor panels, which made her laugh. She could always count on Charlie to cheer her up. He licked her face and took the stress of the coming day away.
“Morning, Charlie.” She laid on the floor, stroked his scraggly brown fur, and scratched behind his floppy ears. “What do you think, huh? Think I’ll pass?”
Charlie tilted his head and barked.
“I hope I do.” She sighed and rolled over and stared at the ceiling again.
She glanced at the time and moaned. Thirty minutes until the busses would arrive to chauffeur her to certain doom. The day would happen whether she wanted it to or not, so rather than fight and lose, she decided just to face it as best she could. With one last ruffle of Charlie’s fur, she closed the Annotated Citizen Fitness Examination Study Guide and glanced through Bakerton and You: A Guide to Finding Happiness Through Work and Bakerton Rules and Regulations Volume 7 before slipping them into the drawer of her nightstand. She retrieved her journal from under her pillow and tucked it between the study guides before making her bed.
Getting ready for the day in Bakerton was simple. Even for a fifteen-year-old girl. Either her mother or Bakerton assigned, selected, or directed every aspect of her life as a student-citizen. Every morning was nothing more than a routine. She removed her housing block issued tan nightgown and tossed it into the laundry chute by her closet and put on her school-issued unisex uniform as her mind stewed about the coming day. No one else seems worried about it. Dark gray slacks and dark gray socks. Everyone says not to worry because everyone passes. A starched white shirt that itched all day long under her dark gray jacket. What about the boy they say Premier Steiner executed because he failed? Light gray tie secured with her student-citizen pin. Principal Hanley said that was a rumor, but what if it wasn’t?
One last look in the closet mirror for stray hairs, creases, or flaws in her uniform. Anything other than perfection was just laziness or idleness. Her dark hair blended in with the jacket, so she never had to worry as Megan and Jodi did with their lighter hair. Just last week, Coach Kline reprimanded Lucie because a few stray blond hairs had fallen onto her collar while running. More students were serving detention for fallen hairs as the exam date approached. She was sure everyone was lying about not being stressed about the test. She couldn’t be the only one afraid of it.
On the outside, she appeared calm, collected, and perfect just as expected. Inside though, her confidence hid in a little ball in the corner of a small, dark room surrounded by the glowing, staring eyes of the anghenbeast that her teachers said lived in the Austero Plains outside of Bakerton and devoured students who did not meet expectations. Echo gulped, dabbed her sweaty brow with her sleeve, and tried to focus on the day ahead.
“A clean uniform is respectful and the product of a clean, useful citizen,” she told Charlie, who was calmly waiting for her to finish. “At least that’s what the guidebook says.”
Echo closed her closet and double checked that her room was ready for Agent Olson’s daily inspection. Every morning she wished for the room she often dreamed about. A room with open windows that had curtains blowing in the breeze, a soft bed, and color everywhere. A room where she was happy. The coldness and sterility of her real room symbolized everything she disliked about Bakerton and its rules, but also the very thing she needed to be so that she could finally be a full citizen and get on with her life.
When the Monat family received approval for their three-citizen housing unit after Johnny entered his first year at Bakerton Elementary last fall, Echo picked bedroom set three which included a metal nightstand, iron bed frame, and metal dresser. She had hoped that set would reflect what little daylight came into the room, but her mother adamantly opposed her choice and instead ordered bedroom set six in light gray synthetic. No artwork, pictures, posters, or any other form of adornment in her room because, according to her study guides, things of that nature promoted idleness. That didn’t stop her and her friends from drawing and sharing their latest artistic ventures with each other. It just meant she had to hide every contraband item in her room before she left for school. It was easier in their old housing unit because the agent was old and had poor eyesight. Agent Olson was the complete opposite and would find the slightest flaw. Too many notices and they would be reassigned housing blocks.
Charlie knew Echo’s routine, and as soon as she paused one last time by the closed door, he jumped up and wagged his tail. He was ready to go to the kitchen for the morning meal. Echo laughed and opened the door but sounds of her brother bemoaning his new job for the term filled the hallway. On the first day of first-year, all students learned that idleness was the enemy of every good citizen, and now that they were student-citizens, students performed tasks around their school.
“It’s about time you’re up,” Margaret said, waving a large spoon at Echo. “Did you forget what day it was, young lady?”
“No, sorry Mom.”
Echo winked at Johnny as she walked into the kitchen, kissed her mother on the cheek, and poured dog pellets into Charlie’s bowl next to the refrigerator. It wasn’t a large kitchen, but it was certainly larger than what they had before. At least in this one, they could fit their round four-citizen table in the alcove off the kitchen and still have room to walk around.
“I hate it though,” Johnny said, continuing his protest.
Echo took a protein bar from the basket in the center of the table and sat down across from him. “What job do you have this term?”
“It doesn’t matter what job he has, young lady,” Margaret said bluntly. She scooped servings of morning hash into their empty bowls and put the container back into the cabinet. “He will do it to the best of his ability,” she added, joining her children at the table
Echo ignored her mother, poked her protein bar toward Johnny, and mimicked his principal with complete accuracy and precision, even down to his tendency to spit when speaking. “Physical ability should never compromise one’s value to society.”
Margaret rolled her eyes as Johnny laughed. “Eat!”
They knew not to push their mother too far in the mornings, so Echo and Johnny turned their attention to the morning meal, but as she ate Echo remembered all the horrible jobs she has held as a student-citizen. She always had the worst jobs or least suitable jobs of anyone in the school. One term during first-year, Echo posted the Bakerton flag in every classroom in the morning and took it down at the end of the day. It wasn’t her fault she was the shortest one in her year. Even standing on the tallest stool, her fingertips barely reached the slot in the wall. Every Wednesday that term her mother
heard how idle and lazy her daughter was and that the school expected better instruction at home. Life at school and home that term was hell, but it was only a preview of things to come.
Third-year’s second term brought bathroom detail where she scrubbed the gray floor tiles with small soft brushes to keep a pristine environment. Clean rooms create clear minds, the teachers would tell the cleaning crews. Echo hated winter more than any other season. Winter brought summons to clean vomit off the floor when students were sick. She thought that was the worst job in the school until her sixth year.
First-term of her first year at Bakerton High School, the oldest and largest secondary school, she was a school messenger. That meant she delivered messages anywhere in the six-floor, three-building complex. While delivering messages kept her fit, it also meant she was often late to class or suffered slow delivery times. It also meant another term of school and home-based punishment for being lazy and idle. All tenth-year students breathed a collective sigh of relief at the start of the school year because preparing for the exam was a higher priority than idleness.
“So, what’s your job this term,” Echo asked as her mother cleared the table.
“I have track laying this term,” Johnny said. “Look at me! Do I look like I could lay track?”
He did have a point. Johnny was five years old and weighed all of thirty-five pounds. Echo stifled a laugh picturing her little brother in his white t-shirt and gray shorts out under the sun shoveling tons of dirt and rock around. That would build up his muscles though, and he would earn extra afternoon meal portions. Truthfully, the job sounded like it would be more beneficial than harmful, but she would never tell him that.
“You’ll be a great track layer,” Echo said. “You’ll see.”
Before Johnny could protest further, the intercom announced busses for the elementary schools had arrived. He grabbed his backpack and ran toward the door, but Charlie thought he was playing and tackled him in the hall.
“Get off!” Johnny pushed Charlie off him. “I’m going to be late!”
“Come here, Charlie,” Echo patted her leg.
Charlie barked in Johnny’s face and trotted back to the kitchen. Echo sat at the table and watched her mother fuss with the dishes until she sat down in Johnny’s chair.
“Are you ready for the exam?”
“I guess…about as ready as I’ll ever be.”
Margaret huffed and stood up. “With that attitude, you’ll never be ready.”
“Mom –”
“Don’t you have a bus to catch too?”
Echo sighed as she stared at her mother’s back. She never understood why her mother always seemed happy with Johnny, but rarely with her. It wasn’t worth asking her why though because she wouldn’t answer anyway. They never saw eye-to-eye on anything even though they rarely argued or fought. It started when she was a first-year and never changed. She patted Charlie on the head, grabbed her school-issued gray backpack emblazoned with Bakerton and BHS on the flap from her room, and left her housing unit. High school students packed the elevators and hallways trying to clamber down to the housing block’s lobby. Echo tapped her foot as she waited through five elevators before one had enough room for her to squeeze in.
High school students filled the lobby as they tried to leave the building quickly, quietly, and efficiently before Agent Olsen started yelling and reporting them to their school principal for being idle in his presence. It was easy to tell which school they went to because everyone wore different colored uniforms. Everyone except for the children of officials who attended Bakerton Premier Academy. They wore citizen’s clothing and had the best bus Bakerton offered. Not all citizens were agents or officials for Bakerton. Premier Steiner personally selected a few new officials each year from the agent ranks, so having your child attend the best secondary school was a benefit of that position.
By the time she filed outside, the buses had arrived, and the uniformed students formed a colorful flag draped across the light gray sidewalk. She stepped to the back of the line for her school and was secretly glad she attended that school because of what everyone else had to wear for their uniforms. Navy blues went to Anderson, solid whites went to Franklin, maroons went to Harrison, charcoals went to Washington, and bright greens went to Lincoln. The morning routine reminded her there were better things than school-issued uniforms, but there were also worse uniforms she could have ended up with. Buses loaded quickly and quietly as students could not speak while lining up, boarding the bus, during the bus ride, or leaving the bus. She happily took her assigned seat by the window in row six on the second bus.
Echo never complained about the window seat. It was the best seat on the bus as far as she was concerned. Every morning and evening she had a personal tour of the city. Though it was as dreary and bland as her housing unit; it did have some beautiful moments. Dull unadorned metal and slate gray tinted skyscrapers blotted out the sun for most of the trip as the streets in Bakerton did not run in straight lines. A road would run straight for two or three blocks then angle one way for two or three blocks, only to angle the other way for two or three blocks. Her teachers claimed it forced drivers to be attentive to the road, rather than the scenery, but Echo liked to think someone with a shaky hand drew the directions and they decided to leave it rather than fix it.
The bus zigzagged through the city and its high-rise housing blocks, commercial buildings, and office complexes until it reached the Bakerton City Center where the grand State Building sat in the middle of the only park in the city. Other administrative buildings lined the square. No building could be taller than three stories in the City Center. Echo flinched as the morning sun blinded her but smiled as it warmed her face. Covering her eyes, she glimpsed the young leaves on the lone tree that grew near the State Building surrounded by green grass and a tall fence. The park was in pristine condition because no one could walk on the grass or touch the tree. Mrs. Jenkins, Echo’s third-year teacher, explained that trees were poisonous and able to kill within seconds and that allowing grass to touch your bare skin would cause painful blisters. Bakerton officials installed the park and tree long ago to serve as a reminder to all citizens of the dangers that used to exist in the plains that surrounded the city.
Back in the shade of the city for the rest of her morning trip, Echo leaned back, closed her eyes, and replayed her latest dream. She dreamt of the small house with brown floors, open windows, surrounded by grass that was soft, fragrant, and didn’t cause blisters when she ran her hands through the blades or when she laid down to watch the clouds drift by. In the front of the house, in the yard, was a stone well with a bucket at the end of a rope that Echo would lower and then lift back up after it had filled with water. She loved that house and wished places like that existed in real life, but she knew things like that were impossible. Free water had dried up long ago, and now they had to synthesize liquid. The house was also impossible since it wasn’t synthetic or metal. Those were the only building materials left to use. Idleness and laziness destroyed everything before Bakerton. At least according to her teachers and study guides. Echo silently groaned as she thought of the study guides and countless hours spent memorizing their pages.
For one brief, fleeting moment, Echo had forgotten that today was the Citizen Fitness Examination. She sighed again, but this time out loud. Faith promptly elbowed her in the ribs. Faith had been in her class since first-year, but after Echo accidentally spilled a bucket of toilet waste on Faith after cleaning a clogged toilet in third-year, they were not on speaking terms. It’s not like she had done it on purpose, but the more Echo thought about it over the years, the more she could understand. Besides, she doubted very much that they would even be friends even if that event had not happened. They didn’t have the same interests or have the same circle of friends. Faith was outgoing, friendly, blond, well-liked, smart, and Echo was, well, not. She was okay with that though. There were a few friends who would be waiting for her at school, and she was thrille
d and content with that.
Echo returned to looking out the window and watched as the residential area past the City Center faded and turned into the commercial district where citizens were hustling and bustling on their way to work or out shopping for that night’s evening meal. She couldn’t wait to be a citizen in three short months. It meant many things, but what she was looking forward to most was not having to wear the school uniform. Citizen’s clothes were much better. They still only came in light gray, dark gray, or black, but you did have the choice of colors on the corded trim, lining, tie, and handkerchief. Female citizens also had a choice of eight distinctive styles, but Johnny would only have three options when he grew up. Echo enjoyed watching the flickering display of color set on a gray backdrop before the bus made its last turn to the school.
Two
Adornments and decorations glorified idleness, wasted resources, and promoted individual gratification. However, on special occasions, like Bakerton Appreciation Week, the school draped a single colorful banner above the Twenty-Third street entrance. Echo had hoped this year’s Citizen Fitness Examination banner would be as bright and colorful as last year’s, but her heart sunk as the bus pulled past a simple banner with a light-green background banner and light-red lettering announcing the 215th Citizen Fitness Examination that barely made a difference in the dark gray complex.
Typically, students entered the school at once and went directly to their homeroom, but March 1 was not an ordinary day. All students remained outside the school until everyone had arrived and the staff was ready for the annual assembly. It was also one of the few days that students could talk freely with each other without charges of idleness during instructional hours.
Echo weaved her way through the throng of uniforms to her friends who were waiting in a back corner of the parking lot by the physical fitness field. Her friends lived in the Nineteenth street and Twenty-First street housing blocks and walked to school. Though none of them said it, they were a little jealous of Echo. They wished they had a father in the State Office of Commerce and Budgeting so they could live on the other side of town where the housing units were larger, but it also meant he only came home one weekend a month, which was not worth the tradeoff.