The Other Side of the Island

by Allegra Goodman

  One day, Honor and Helena decided to take the path to the school’s Model Forest. This was a steep trail and took almost half an hour to climb, but the forest was both interesting and educational. The Model Forest was the forest of the future, meant to demonstrate how the island would look when Enclosure was complete.

  The Model Forest’s trees were planted in neat rows. Vines hung down untangled, as if someone had combed them straight. Along the path, mountain apples and passion fruit grew abundantly. All the orchids were in bloom at once: white and pale green and golden yellow veined with red. In the Model Forest, orderlies set out dishes of fresh fruit to feed the butterflies and replaced dead or dying plants as soon as they began to decay.

  Honor and Helena were breathing hard when they got to the lookout point that crowned the Model Forest. This was a spot where the trees had been cut away and students could look down over the school grounds and beyond—all the way down into the valley between the volcano’s ridges. Honor could see the winding road the buses took to school, the green banana plantations below, and, far down, the island’s only city clinging to the slope. Beyond that she saw the strip of empty beaches and the rough green ocean, big as the sky.

  The wind whipped at the girls. “Hold on to your hat!” Helena called out, and Honor saved her hat just in time. The younger students had strings that tied under their chins, but older girls were meant to be responsible and keep their hats on without.

  “Let’s go back,” said Helena as the wind whipped even harder. Their skirts blew out around their knees. “It’s getting rough.”

  “I like it,” Honor confessed. The lookout was the only outside place where she felt cool. The wind woke her up; its force thrilled her. “Don’t you wish you could fly?” she asked Helena.

  She saw Helena’s horrified face and she was embarrassed.

  “Let’s go,” Honor said.

  They made their way back through the Model Forest and headed down toward the school buildings. Wisps of blond hair had escaped Helena’s hat and blown about her face. Helena tucked them in. “I don’t like it there,” she said.

  “I don’t either,” Honor lied.

  Helena looked at her, confused. “You acted like you did.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Honor insisted. “It’s too wild. It’s scary!”

  “I know,” said Helena. “I was afraid of blowing away.”

  “Let’s never go there again,” Honor said.

  “Watch your feet,” Helena warned. The school grounds were muddy after the rains, and students had to keep to a raised boardwalk.

  The other girls were gathering now, walking in pairs down the other boardwalks to the classroom, but a couple of boys with wheelbarrows blocked the path in front of Honor and Helena. They were orphans wheeling fertilizer for the gardens.

  Honor and Helena wrinkled their noses. The orphans all had jobs at the school in the gardens. They wore regular uniforms in class, but they had overalls for work.

  “Hurry up or we’ll be late,” Helena told the boys worriedly.

  One of them, a blond one, looked up and glared at the girls. “You could go around, you know.”

  Honor took Helena’s arm and hurried her off the path and through the mud.

  “My shoes!” cried Helena.

  “That was Helix,” Honor whispered.

  “Stop pulling me.”

  “Helix isn’t an orphan,” said Honor.

  Helena and Honor clambered back onto the walkway. “Yes, he is,” Helena whispered back. “He’s a new one.”

  “What do you mean?” Honor asked.

  For a moment, Helena forgot her muddy shoes and flushed with pleasure at the chance to tell the news. “Didn’t you hear? His parents were taken.”

  FIVE

  LATENESS WAS NOT ALLOWED. HONOR HURRIED BACK inside the classroom and sank into her chair. When had the Thompsons been taken? Why hadn’t her parents told her? What had the Thompsons done?

  No one ever knew how parents disappeared. They would go off to work as usual, and they’d never be heard from again. Or you could go to sleep at night, and in the morning your parents’ bed was empty. It would happen without a sound. Who took them? Nobody knew. For what reason? None were ever given. No one talked about it. But of course parents were taken because they did wrong. Honor knew her criminal categories. She’d received a perfect score on that week’s vocabulary test:

  1. Dissembler

  2. Objector

  3. Rejector

  4. Trespasser

  5. Hijacker

  6. Enemy of the community

  7. Enemy of the Corporation

  8. Enemy of Nature

  9. Partisan

  She had ranked those nine in order from least to most dangerous. She’d printed the worst last. Number ten: Reverse Engineer. Young children weren’t even allowed to say those words.

  Older students learned about RE’s in climatology. Everyone remembered that lesson. Ms. Lynch had stood before the class and said, “We are going to talk about something very serious today.”

  Then the girls shuddered. They knew it was coming.

  “What makes a Reverse Engineer the worst criminal?” asked Ms. Lynch.

  “They’re terrorists,” said Hilary.

  “Yes, but that’s not all,” said Ms. Lynch.

  “They want to destroy the Corporation,” said Hiroko.

  “Yes. But there’s something even worse.”

  “They want to crack the ceiling,” Hagar said quietly.

  The room was still.

  “That’s correct, Hagar,” said Ms. Lynch. “Globe monitor?”

  Hilary jumped to her feet and began wheeling the globe to the front of the room. The globe was beautiful and Accurate. Oceans were deep blue, and islands stood out in relief. Mountains on the larger islands pricked the surface of the globe. Above and below, over the arctic seas and lakes in the Far North and Far South, two clear plastic shells represented Enclosure.

  Ms. Lynch pointed to the clear coverings over the poles. “Our engineers built these,” she said. “When the Earth Mother designed our Enclosures, everyone knew they would protect us. But a few people did not understand. They did not accept the situation. What were these people called?”

  “Objectors,” said Hortense.

  “That is correct. Almost every Objector was reeducated. However, a few would not join hands to protect the earth. These people refused to understand, and they did not learn their lesson. They wanted to stay in their old homes in the Northern Islands. They resisted Evacuation to the Colonies and went into hiding. They call themselves Partisans. The worst of the Partisans are called Reverse Engineers. Why are these Partisans the worst? Because they use their knowledge against us. Class, who is the leader of the Reverse Engineers?”

  “The Forecaster,” whispered Honor.

  “And what is his goal?”

  No one answered.

  Ms. Lynch lowered her hand on the Northern Enclosure and pressed her palm hard and harder. Suddenly the clear plastic cracked. The delicate plastic shell snapped in two.

  The girls gasped. Honor felt her chest tighten. She could hardly breathe.

  “The Forecaster and his Reverse Engineers want to dismantle Earth’s Enclosure.” Ms. Lynch paused to let this sink in. “What will happen without a ceiling?” she asked.

  Ice and snow, blizzards, whirlwinds, fires, earthquakes. They all knew, but they were afraid to say.

  Honor raised her hand. “Why?” she asked. “Why would RE’s do something like that?”

  But Ms. Lynch was already looking at the clock. “Time for glassblowing,” she said. “Please find your mitts and safety goggles.”

  What sort of criminals had Helix’s parents been? And were they both equally bad? Why were parents taken in pairs or not at all? Honor could not stop thinking about these questions as she sat at her school desk. She could not stop wondering as she and Quintilian walked home through their pretty new neighborhood with its streets lined with lyche
e and pomegranate trees. The question that really scared her—the one she tried to blink away—was what would happen to her own parents? They were close to the Thompsons. They broke rules all the time. What if . . . ? What if her parents did more than break the little rules? What if they broke big ones too?

  “What happened to the Thompsons?” she demanded that night at dinner.

  “Not in front of Quintilian,” said her mother.

  “What do you mean not in front of Quintilian? Everybody knows,” said Honor. “Everybody at school can see that Helix is wearing orphan’s clothes.”

  “Well, if everybody knows, then why are you asking us?” asked her mother.

  Honor’s parents looked sad. They looked worn. Will and Pamela no longer laughed and made jokes or talked about the island as an adventure. They had shadows under their eyes from lack of sleep.

  “Are you going out tonight?” Honor asked.

  Her parents didn’t answer.

  “Are you?” Honor asked again.

  No answer.

  Then she lost her temper. “Why are you keeping secrets if you know it’s wrong?” she demanded. “Why do you stay out when you should be here taking care of us?” She pushed her chair away from the table and ran to her room.

  Her mother came to her door. “You have not been excused,” she told Honor.

  “I don’t care,” said Honor from where she was lying on her bed.

  Her mother opened Honor’s sliding door and peeked inside.

  “Go away,” said Honor.

  “You’re frightened,” her mother said.

  “No, I’m not frightened,” Honor snapped. “I’m angry at you.”

  “Be a little patient!” said her mother.

  Honor buried her head under her pillow. “How can I be patient if I don’t know what I’m waiting for?”

  She woke up in the night and stared at her dark ceiling. She thought of the Thompsons. Even people with safe rooms weren’t safe. The Thompsons had disappeared, and now she knew what would happen. She knew, even as day followed day. Her parents would be taken. She and Quintilian would wake up alone.

  How could she keep her parents safe? How could she warn them? They wouldn’t listen to her. There was nothing she could do or say. She saw that her parents had made their choices long ago. Two children, not one. Breaking curfew. Hiding books. Collecting leaflets. Had her father really taken her beyond the barriers at night and forced her to touch the ocean? Had he actually brought seashells into the house? What kind of dad was that? Honor looked back and she remembered her parents’ old winter blankets and their songs. “Jingle Bells.” What had they been thinking? Sometimes she looked at Will and Pamela and she had no idea who they were.

  She decided she would have to change herself instead. She would protect them by doing everything right. In the morning she dressed in her uniform and examined herself in the mirror. She set her hat on her head just so and tied on her green neckerchief, the symbol of the Young Engineers. She looked like a proper schoolgirl from a predictable family. Her schoolwork was Accurate. She behaved appropriately. What else could she do? She looked into the mirror and stared into her own gray eyes, and she knew.

  She told her parents, just as they left the house for work, “I want to change my name.”

  “Honor!” her mother exclaimed. “No!”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” said her father.

  “Honor isn’t a real name,” said Honor. “No one else in my class has a name like mine.”

  “It’s the name we gave you,” said Will.

  “But it doesn’t fit,” said Honor. “I want to pick another name—a good one.”

  Her mother was rushing around, looking for her keys. “You may not pick another name. Your name was our decision.”

  “Was my name your decision?” Quintilian chimed in. “Was mine?”

  “Here they are,” said Will. He handed Pamela her key chain.

  “You’re lunatics,” Honor whispered.

  “How dare you use that kind of language in this house,” said Pamela.

  “Apologize. Now,” Will ordered Honor.

  “I’m sorry,” Honor muttered.

  “Say it like you mean it,” said Will.

  But Pamela shook her head. “If you wait for that, they’ll miss their bus.”

  Honor had to run all the way to the bus stop. She dragged Quintilian by the hand, and they made it just in time.

  At lunchtime she went up to the teacher’s desk. “What can I do for you?” asked Ms. Lynch.

  Honor hesitated. She felt a little sick. She had to force herself to talk. “It’s about my name.”

  Ms. Lynch looked at her closely, but her eyes were kind and understanding.

  “I want a new one,” said Honor, “because mine doesn’t have a proper H.”

  Then Ms. Lynch smiled. “That would be just fine,” she said. “I will get you the list, and at recess you and the other girls can pick out a new one if you like. Once you’ve decided, all you have to do is go to Miss Blessing and she will register your new name in the school record books.”

  The whole class was excited at the idea of renaming Honor. Even the girls who liked her less gathered at recess at the green benches under the monkeypod tree. Together they pored over the list. “Ooh, ooh, what about Hecuba?”

  “No! It sounds like geometry!”

  “Hephzibah.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet. Could you be Hephzibah?” Haven asked.

  Honor didn’t answer. She felt funny. She’d been determined to go through with this, but now she felt as though she were falling.

  “Hannah!” said Hildegard.

  “Hypolita,” said Harriet V.

  Honor knew she had to pick a name fast, while she still had her nerve. She took the list and flipped the pages. She closed her eyes and set her finger down.

  No one spoke. Honor opened her eyes and saw the name she’d picked. “Heloise,” she said.

  “Ooh, that’s so cute,” said Hortense. “I wish I could pick out my own name. You are so lucky.”

  “Heloise is so nice,” said Helena, “and the beginning of your name will sound just like mine!”

  Recess was over. Honor returned the list to Ms. Lynch and told her the name she’d chosen.

  “That’s very pretty,” said Ms. Lynch. “You may see Miss Blessing while the rest of us are at archery.”

  All the school buildings had excellent cooling units, but Miss Blessing kept her office extra cold. As soon as she walked in, Honor wished she were at archery in the hot sun. She loved archery. She had a good eye and a strong arm. “You are extremely Accurate,” Miss Teasdale, the archery teacher, had complimented Honor. Once Miss Teasdale even said, “If you practice, you could learn to shoot a taser when you grow up.” Honor had been so pleased. She’d imagined herself high up in a watchtower. What a view she’d have! What cool breezes high in the air where she’d sit, guarding the community below.

  “Sit down,” Miss Blessing said now in her sweet voice. Her skin was smooth and white, her eyes watery blue. She was dressed in the same fashion as Earth Mother in the picture on the wall. Just like Earth Mother, Miss Blessing wore glasses dangling from a chain around her neck and a cardigan sweater draped over her shoulders. “I hear you have something important to tell me.”

  “I’m changing my name.” Honor’s voice trembled a little, but there was no turning back now.

  Miss Blessing smiled and put on her glasses so that she could read the papers on her desk. “Ms. Lynch told me,” she said. “I will record the new name in your file and I wish you great success with it.” She turned to her papers and began writing.

  Honor shifted in her chair. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was excused to go. “Thank you,” she whispered at last, hoping the principal would release her.

  “There is something else I want to ask you about,” said Miss Blessing. “Please don’t worry. You’ve done nothing wrong. I want to know if there is any trouble at home.”
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  Honor tensed. Instinctively she held still. She tried not to move, but her heart was pounding. She did not know what Miss Blessing meant, but she sensed danger.

  “Some trouble with Quintilian?” Miss Blessing asked.

  Honor shook her head.

  “Or with your mother and father?”

  Honor swallowed.

  “Was there some special reason you wished to change your name?”

  “No,” Honor said clearly. “I just wanted to have a name easier to pronounce.”

  “Of course you did,” said Miss Blessing. “And your parents agreed.”

  She didn’t ask it as a question, but she seemed to be waiting for Honor to answer.

  “Yes,” Honor lied. She couldn’t breathe. She thought she’d suffocate for the long moment Miss Blessing examined her.

  “Are you sure?” Now Miss Blessing’s voice was chilly sweet.

  Honor had two choices then. She could tell the truth or lie some more. If she told the truth, she’d be forgiven. She’d have Miss Blessing’s sympathy. She would be perfect as she’d hoped, but she would also have to admit there was trouble at home, and then her parents would get in trouble. If she lied more . . . She remembered Mrs. Whyte’s words her first day of school. We do not lie. Do you know what happens to children who lie? Honor had no idea what would happen.

  She wanted to run away, but no one could run away from school. There was a watchtower right at the school gate. If she tried, the Watcher would sound the alarm, and Miss Tuttle would retrieve her.

  “At first my parents didn’t agree,” Honor said. She was surprised at how clear her voice sounded. “But when I explained why, then they understood.”

  “Is that the truth?” Miss Blessing asked.

  Half the truth, thought Honor, but she nodded solemnly. She might have looked too solemn, because Miss Blessing narrowed her eyes. “All right, Heloise,” she said at last. “You may be excused.”