by Sarah Noffke
“How would you like your hair tonight, miss?”
“Whatever you think is best. You’re the expert,” I say, cleaning the dirt out from underneath my fingernails.
“Your mother laid out your clothes for you,” Rachel says, indicating the hangers draped in cream fabrics beside the closet.
“How nice of her,” I say dryly. “This must be a big meeting, indeed.”
“It is and you’d know that—”
“If I wasn’t such a loser,” I say, cutting off Dee. “Mother already beat you to that one.”
“The President is going to make some big announcements tonight,” Dee says, slipping a black shawl around her shoulders. “And afterwards there’s going to be a big party, with music and cake. This is a big deal, Em.” She walks over to my vanity and snatches a diamond-encrusted comb off the surface. “Keep your hands off my stuff.”
I’m not going to anger myself and argue with Dee. It’s pointless to tell her that Tutu gave me those combs for my twelfth birthday. I’m absolutely positive my sister has already concocted a story in her head, which she firmly believes, where the antique hair pieces belong to her. I’ll just wait until she’s sleeping and steal them back, as I have a dozen times already.
“You’re good as gold,” Rachel says, taking the last of several hairpins and tucking it into my curls. The hair on the sides of my head is drawn up, twisted slightly and pinned at the back of my head with hairpins with pearls on their ends. And for a rare opportunity, all my blonde curls are arranged neatly down my back. Rachel also added color to my cheeks, some lipstick, and a bit of mascara.
“It’s perfect, Rachel,” I say, clasping my hand on the one she has resting on my shoulder.
“You look like an angel,” she says, her face making me feel too sentimental.
“Well, I feel nothing like one,” I say and wink at her again.
I dress in the white silk blouse and cream pencil skirt my mother laid out for me. The nude heels I’ve never worn pair perfectly with the ensemble, as well as the pearl necklace I never give myself an opportunity to wear. This whole tight-fitting, pressed look is polished, but it also makes me feel too restrained, like any action will wrinkle or stain me. I guess I’ve always preferred to move in a way that would wrinkle clothes, would stain them. Then I know I’m actually living.
“Oh, and Em,” my sister says just as she’s about to head downstairs. She has that too-nice tone in her voice. It instantly brings my suspicious eyes up to meet hers. “Father left you a present on your bed. He is so thoughtful.”
I wait for her to leave and then slowly make my way to my bed. My father doesn’t leave me presents. Hasn’t given me anything since I can remember. Hesitant eyes fall on the two pieces lying flatly on my bed. I suck in a sudden breath and stumble back, like I’ve just seen one of Tutu’s ghosts. The top and bottom half of a statue of Lady Justice lies on my comforter. It’s the statue from my father’s office. The one I broke.
Chapter Twenty-One
I take each step down the staircase, thinking that my nervousness will make my feet slip out from underneath me and I’ll tumble to the bottom, broken and hopefully in a lot less trouble. From the corner of my vision I spy my mother fussing over Nona’s hair. I round the end of the banister and stand staring at my family. They’re all dressed in black. My mother and Dee both wear tight-fighting dresses. My father in his usual suit. Nona, a pleated skirt and blazer, but around her neck is tied a silk white scarf. I can’t help it. I thread my eyes down my crisp, light appearance and then over the dark bodies in front of me. They look like they’re going to a funeral. And I, well I look appropriate enough to be buried.
“Is everything all right, Em?” my mother says, a snarky tone in her repressed smile.
“I’m fine,” I say, brushing off nonexistent lint from my blouse and standing tall.
“Do you think it’s acceptable to keep your family waiting while you get ready?” my father asks from behind my mother and sister. The look on his stone face doesn’t give anything away. It’s the same mask he always wears, but I spy an extra degree of heat behind it. He narrows his eyes at me and I feel the all too familiar invasion into my thoughts. I throw up a shield to block him, to stop the trespassing.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” I say with a practiced curtsy.
“She’s going to have back troubles if you keep insisting she does that,” Tutu says from behind my father. She takes a few hobbled steps and then comes around to my side.
Tutu isn’t dressed for the affair. She has the clout to finally “stick a decline” to the President. I eye her dressing gown with envy.
“We must be off,” my father says, hastening the group to the exit.
“Of course you must. That’s what you people do. Hurry off to your engagements where not much engaging happens from what I can see,” Tutu says, eyeing my father with a scrupulous look. She’s the only one who can get away with it. “Oh, and Damien, if the cake is chocolate, bring me home a piece.”
I smile at her brazen nature and hurry out the door. Her withered hand catches me as I try to go. A scent as inborn as my own wafts from her as she pulls me close enough to whisper in my ear. It’s a mixture of salt and lavender. “Those who see the fire run. The rest die from smoke,” she says, not a hint of lightness in her usual jovial voice.
She doesn’t say another word, just stares at me with an intensity I think will saw me in two. I nod. The words “Yes, Tutu” fall out of my mouth.
“Good girl,” she says, and then turns me around and slaps me on the bottom. “Get out of here before your father convicts you of stalling this gods-forsaken meeting.”
***
My heels almost kill my pinky toes by the time we walk the three blocks to the old theater. Cars are rarely used, even on special occasions. Since there’s no way I’m riding my bike in a pencil skirt, walking was the only option. I dutifully took up the rear for my family as they marched down Central Boulevard. Multiple times we’ve stopped so my father could shake hands with various people and exchange pleasantries. It really is a boring business. Politics. I break away from the pack when we arrive at the theater, intent on spilling some news to an important someone.
Zack spots me at once from his place stationed at the corner. His eyes actually do a double take and he freezes in place looking at me, like my head is twice its normal size. “Em?” he says, giving me a look of awe.
“Later,” I say, waving my hand haphazardly at my head and dress. “I’ve got someth—”
“Hi, Zachary,” Dee says, sliding right in front of me. She actually thrusts her hip out enough that it bounces into me. My sister is all legs and curves, which I realize is a hard combination for most guys to ignore. “Our time at the ball was so lovely, didn’t you think?”
“It was grand,” Zack says, taking a quick bow. His eyes dart to my anxious look and then my sister’s.
After everything I’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours the only thing I’ve wanted was to divulge a tiny bit of it to him. Now I realize that’s impossible. Beside me Nona strides up, pulling on the white scarf around her neck like it’s choking her. “I’ve got something to share,” I say from the corner of my mouth to her.
“Like how you’re dead meat,” Nona says, also from the corner of her mouth. “I can read Father well enough to know when he’s about to roast someone.”
Dee has moved in closer to Zack. She has her hands tracing up and down the lapels of his jacket, her shawl having dropped down low revealing her bare shoulders and backless dress. He’s a goner at this point. “Sit beside me, Zack,” Dee says, her voice demanding. She threads her arm through his and looks up at him like he’s the President himself. “And after the meeting you can accompany me to the celebration.”
I half want to laugh at how miserable Zack looks, but my own disappointment of not getting to share my news with him overwhelms the urge. Instead I give him a sympathetic shrug and turn to leave. I will my feet to stop scre
aming, taking each step like I’m walking on coals. I’ve only made it a few excruciating steps when I hear Nona’s whiny voice behind me; it has a nasal quality about it that’s half cute, half annoying.
“Oh no you don’t, Zack!” she says. “You’re coming with me. We both know you’re the only one who can keep Em’s trap shut during these meetings. I’m not getting in trouble on account of her…again.”
I turn to see two distinct images. One is of my little sister, tugging on Zack fiercely, like a goat trying to pull a bull through a yard. They both wear slightly comical expressions, like they’re playing a part in a play. And the other is Dee, standing cross-armed at Zack’s back, watching him be pulled away by who she thinks is the least menacing force on this planet. Nona.
I walk off a few paces and let them catch up. “You know, he’s almost grown and can make his own decisions about who he hangs out with,” I say to Nona, who quickly takes the position beside me.
“Everyone needs saving from Dee,” she says, flipping her long straw-colored hair behind her back.
“Thanks. I did need saving,” Zack says, taking up the spot on my other side. “She intimidates me. I’m afraid to go against her.”
“Afraid she’ll burn you,” Nona confirms.
“Right,” Zack says as we walk, his eyes flicking to me every so often. He has that look of awe on his face again. “So,” he finally says, drawing out the word and strangely sounding nervous. “You look really—”
“Oh, save it,” I say, rounding on him. “Yeah, I almost look like one of you. Happy now? Happy that I sucked it in long enough to fit into this skirt?”
“Em, you always look—”
“Like a bum, yeah, yeah. I’m not in the mood tonight, Zack,” I say.
“I wasn’t going to say that. It’s just tonight you look different, like a girl who can change her colors at will. It’s stunning, actually.”
I shake my head at him. Kind of want to punch him in the shoulder right now, but resist. “Whatever,” I say. “I wanted to tell you that I figured out my gift.” I revolve my gaze all around, realizing the President could be listening, from so far away.
“You have what?” Nona says too loud.
I give her a punishing look and then continue to our seats, dragging the two of them behind me. “I can’t tell you about it right now, but soon I will,” I say as we slide into our seats.
“Em!” Nona protests.
I flick my eyes to the stage, where the President will soon stand. “Trust me.”
“You were right about the…?” She lets the question hang out there.
She’s referring to the injections. “I was,” I say, nodding and meeting Zack’s nervous stare.
“Em, that means—”
“Exactly,” I cut him off, knowing the President could be spying on us using his super hearing. “We have our work cut out for us.”
“What are we going to do first?” Nona asks, her tone now discreet, bordering on casual. “What can I do?”
“Our first priority is to help a certain someone.” I point with my eyes to the stage. “Because that someone’s father knows about him.”
Zack shakes his head slightly. “Oh no. That’s disastrous.”
I slip down in the seat, my eyes planted on the stage, my lips hardly moving as I speak. “And I think I’m in a great deal of trouble.”
For the second time tonight, Zack does a double take at me; this time I sense fear in his eyes. “What?” he whispers.
I chance a sideways glance at him. “I think my punishment will be worse than the night terror generator.”
“What’s worse than that?”
“I don’t know, but I think I’m going to find out,” I say, staring at the back of my father’s head. He sits in the front row between my mother and Dee and he’s the first one to start clapping when the President takes the stage.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When the applause dies down, the President is still resting his eyes on the podium in front of him. “Tonight we will celebrate a great many things. Tomorrow we awake to a community that is even better than the one we currently have. And each day afterwards will be marked by improvements. But first we have to make some changes.” His green eyes finally pull up from the podium and stare out at the middle of the crowd. A shiver actually trembles from my body. Nona slips her hand in mine and squeezes.
“Tonight we will discuss how to expand and reorganize our society so as to benefit everyone,” President Vider begins in his salient tone. “It’s an incredibly exciting time to be a Reverian. This society started small, just over a hundred years ago. Our forefathers knew the story of the gods, knew Dream Travelers were the golden race, and set up the place we now call home. We have been strategic in growing our population and maintaining our protection over the Middlings. It is time that we expand and spread the greatness we have to others.” He smiles, one that’s practiced, that looks almost genuine. “Our borders will be expanded to the east by one hundred miles, and this is only the beginning. Homes and more establishments will be built to serve our growing community. Already we have opened our arms to Middlings and they’ve found a great peace under our care. Very soon we will begin the process of selecting Dream Travelers from across the globe to join us, to be a part of our community. It is only through this growth that we continue our mission. And just think, you all who reside in front of me now are the founding members of this society, which will one day be so great it will have no borders.”
Applause rings out. I allow my head to swivel around. The auditorium is full. Almost every Dream Traveler Reverian is here tonight.
The President holds up a hand and the crowd falls silent at once. “I’ve chosen to lead with this good news, because unfortunately I must also address something which has affected us all in a negative way,” he says and then pauses, looking pained. “As you all know, an awful epidemic has befallen our society. One that I’ve sunk every resource into remedying. I’m of course referring to the generation of Defects, those who are not being gifted with a skill by the gods. It appears that our race is undergoing a slight evolution. And, as is my duty to the Reverians, I have traveled and researched this extensively and found this to be the problem within many Dream Traveler societies.”
“Liar,” I say under my breath.
The President’s firm gaze darts to me. I freeze, feeling his intensity like a laser beam. My anger got the best of me and I let the word slip. For too long he stares through the crowd at where I sit. Finally he clears his throat.
“My investigations have also determined we are evolved in our methods of dealing with this problem,” the President says, pride heavy in his tone. “It is this innovation within our society that contributes to the superior quality of life we share. However, this epidemic has caused a great deal of stress and discord within our society. I realize that’s unavoidable, given the seriousness of it. Therefore, I have established a plan which will end this imbalance and deliver us to a more euphoric state of being.”
The breath I suck in is cold and unfulfilling. My chest is too tense to breathe properly. Nona’s hand grips mine firmer. She pulls my hand into her lap and that’s when I realize she’s trembling.
“It’s okay,” I mouth to her, although I’m lying.
“I can’t even begin to understand how confusing it must be for the Defects who are born Dream Travelers, but not gifted with a skill at puberty. Your pain and anguish weighs on my heart every day.”
It’s hard for me to keep my eyes on the President as he recites his speech of lies. I want to declare the truth to the Reverians. I want to protest, but I’d only appear like a raving teenager. Then I’d really be in trouble. I bite down on my bottom lip, urging all accusations to stay buried inside me.
“Defects have created a divide within our population,” President Vider says, shaking his head at the news. “They’re neither true Dream Traveler nor Middling. This divide makes it difficult for us to maintain the critical balance we
need to ensure the happiness of everyone, mostly the Middlings. Now that the first of the Defects is about to come to the age where they will be granted their role within the Reverians’ occupation system, it is impossible to place them. How can we place a Dream Traveler with no gift in a position of power? How will this appear to the Middlings, who are asked to work the more labor-intensive positions because they’re not gifted, not Dream Travelers? You all see the dilemma we face, don’t you?”
To my horror the crowd nods in unison and gives a collective, “Yes.”
“It has been exceptionally difficult to find a remedy that is fair to all, but I think we have found one,” President Vider says, his tone shifting to one of triumph. “And I’m confident that in time everyone will be happier. We have done everything to try and help the Defects achieve their gifts. You all know that. And we’re still hopeful that in many cases the gifts will surface for these kids. However, those coming to occupational age will need to go through our process.”
That’s me.
“Since Defects are neither fully Dream Traveler nor Middling, we think it best to convert them to a single race, one where they will have a sense of belonging,” the President booms, his tone carrying its usual enticing quality. “We recognize that it’s difficult for Defects to assimilate into the Dream Traveler culture and our studies have confirmed that they feel most comfortable with Middlings.”
My father turns his head sideways so I can see his face. Then something that he never does happens. He smiles. It’s small, but it instantly makes my stomach turn over twice.
“We now have the technology to convert Defects to Middlings, thereby relieving them of their dream traveling abilities,” President Vider says.
What!
“This is great news for this segment of the population because after conversion they no longer have to withstand the painful injections. They no longer have to fret over whether their gift is going to surface. They can relax and enjoy their lives among the Middlings. And really,”—the President stands up tall, flashes a proud smile— “I wish at times I could be a Middling. No one can argue that they’re happy here in Austin Valley. We protect and care for them. We ensure they have all their needs met. And now the Defects who have suffered for too long will become valuable members within this race. And I think we can all agree that belonging is more important than any gift. That’s what my council and I want for you, the Defects, we want you to belong. We want you to have a place within our society. A chance at having a family, since you can’t do that with a Dream Traveler. That could risk passing along your defect. We want you to have a life. And our research has told us that the only way for Defects to truly belong is to fully become a part of the Middling race through conversion; otherwise you’ll always be an anomaly and we don’t want that.”
