The Registry

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The Registry Page 3

by Shannon Stoker


  She watched as Andrew made his way toward the group, shoving one of the bullies to the ground and punching another in the face. He hoisted the young boy up. His voice was loud and clear.

  “This is not how we do things here,” Andrew said. “If you have problems with someone, come to me. If you think that it’s play, that it’s fun to beat up little kids, leave this farm today. If any of you ever lays a finger on him, or anyone else, I will see to it myself that you lose that finger.”

  Andrew put his arm around the kid’s shoulders and walked him away. The mob disbanded. All the young men apparently took Andrew at his word.

  Mia was impressed. She was forbidden to associate with any of the farmhands, but she knew they were a rough group. She was fascinated by the way Andrew had stood up for the victim and the respect he commanded from his peers. She pulled herself up, continued toward Whitney, and hoped her friend had some good advice.

  Chapter 4

  Your country comes first. You come second, for without your country you would not be.

  —The Boy’s Guide to Service

  Are you sure you’re all right?” Andrew asked the new kid.

  “I’ll be fine.” He wiped his eyes.

  “You’re fresh out of school? Probably released two months ago? This is your first job?” Andrew didn’t know why he asked these questions; he knew the answers were yes. “Mr. Morrissey is a good employer. I traveled for about two years before I ended up here, and there are worse places to be.”

  The young charge just nodded his head.

  “Stay here till your service date, if you can. Stand up for yourself, though, or the other guys will feed on your weakness.”

  Again the new farmhand just nodded his head. Andrew signaled for him to take off and he gladly ran toward the barn the young men called home. Andrew assumed he needed to check on his belongings and make sure none of his tormentors had touched them. Andrew knew they wouldn’t, not after he’d told them to stay clear.

  His shoulder was sore and he put his hand up to rub it, remembering his run-in with Mr. Morrissey’s daughter. She was probably going to see the other girl, the manager’s daughter. But why was she in such a rush? He usually tried to avoid both the girls at all costs. He knew the dangers of being seen with an unmarried girl, had heard stories about unserved boys who were stupid enough to get caught up in a pretty face—someone they didn’t deserve to have. He wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t taking any chances. It was almost his time to serve, and once he was discharged he would be ready for and deserving of female companionship. For now, the only love in his life was for his country.

  Andrew knew that his time in service would be hard. It was his initiation into manhood; he would face any enemy knowing he might not leave with his life, and it was up to him to survive whatever war he faced. But he was not scared. His country would prepare him, make him the best soldier, impossible to take down. He was lucky he lived in the greatest country in the world and honored that it was his duty to serve.

  Still, he let his mind wander to his postservice life. Would he finally own property? Have a roof over his head, a place where he could stay by himself? He thought about taking some time to relax, buying a little cabin in the woods or a cottage on a lake, and just living alone for a few years. He envisioned a small self-sustaining life, with no reason to leave his home. He felt the corners of his lips turning up at the thought of the word “home,” a concept he wasn’t familiar with.

  He forced the smile down and the idea out of his head. In his mind he may have been free and able to smile, but others would see it as a weakness. He never knew who was watching, and it was necessary to maintain his hard demeanor, or else his position would be challenged with physical violence, something Andrew saw as an evil necessity to be avoided at all costs.

  Andrew sighed. Another reason he couldn’t wait to have a home. He would finally be able to relax and not worry about maintaining his persona. He imagined that after several years of solitude he would sign up with the Registry and get himself a wife, and after a little longer a family. Andrew felt his lips curl down at this word. Family was another foreign concept, one he wasn’t so eager to learn about.

  The only family he knew of was the Morrisseys, and while they seemed happy for the most part, he wasn’t sure they were the model he wanted to achieve. He tried his hardest to ignore the Morrissey daughters, but he still knew how beautiful they were; it was impossible not to notice. Their father was so proud of their beauty, always bragging about how rich they had made him, but Andrew didn’t see that as a compliment. He hoped that when he had a daughter he would know more about her than her physical appearance. He laughed a little at this thought. He would never have to worry about that predicament. There was no way he could ever afford a girl as beautiful as those sisters, and he took some comfort in that fact. His life would be simple and he would be happy, one day.

  His time for fantasizing was over. He needed to focus his energy on situations he could control, and right now his only concern was preparing for service. He headed toward the barn; it was time to start the second shift in the fields.

  Chapter 5

  The threat of illness has decreased significantly since the introduction of the Registry. Diseases that once plagued the country have been phased out. Approved marriages ensure healthy, stable, and long lives.

  —The Registry Guide for Girls

  You are so lucky.” Whitney sat down with a thud at her small kitchen table.

  “Are you sure your father’s not here?” Mia asked.

  “He’s off getting the latest corn shipment ready. He said it’s a big one and not to wait up.”

  “What are we going to do?” Mia could feel her breathing deepen.

  “Marry him, go live a dream life, and forget this idea.”

  Mia shot Whitney a dirty look.

  Whitney smirked in response. “Just drive him away. Be nasty. Be someone he won’t want to marry.”

  This had never occurred to Mia, but Whitney’s solution was obvious. Mia felt a rush of gratitude that her friend had agreed to run away with her; it was becoming clear she wouldn’t be able to do it on her own.

  “Then we will both choose our husbands when we get out of the country,” Whitney said, smiling at her idea.

  Mia scowled at the thought. She had no intention of ever getting married. Starting a romantic relationship was nonexistent on her priorities list. Her concern was only their freedom.

  “You have a red mark on your head. Were you trying to make yourself less attractive?”

  The run-in with Andrew had already left Mia’s mind. She reached up and touched the spot.

  “I was scared. I ran out here from the house and bumped into Andrew.”

  “Which one is he?”

  Farmhands were always coming and going. It was rare to learn one of their names. Andrew had been here too long for Whitney not to have noticed him. She stood up and walked over to the window. Her parents’ large house loomed to the east. It was a beautiful traditional farmhouse.

  Whitney and her father lived above the barn that had been converted into a garage. A second barn to the west had been converted into a dormitory. There the young farmhands slept and did as they pleased in their free time. Whitney had a perfect view.

  “Do you ever watch them?” Mia asked.

  No action was visible, but Mia was sure they were in there, laughing and enjoying their freedom. She wondered if Andrew was still consoling the small worker.

  “No,” Whitney said. “They’re too young for us. I want a real man. Sometimes I hear them. They’re loud and obnoxious. They lack any sophistication.”

  It wasn’t fair that conversations between the sexes were forbidden unless the man paid the Registry fee to court a wife. Mia thought she’d enjoy their company. She wanted to know why speaking to them was wrong.

  “Why does the Registry exist?” Mia asked, still at the window.

  “Before the introduction of the Registry disease was ram
pant and the population faced extinction.”

  “No. I have the Guide memorized, too. There must be a reason for the disease.”

  Corinna’s article was just a page with only a few paragraphs; the rest of the story was cut off. Mia needed to know more.

  Whitney looked confused. “I never thought you cared about this stuff before.”

  “I do now,” Mia said.

  Whitney took a deep breath before answering. “One night I was upset. I had no prospects. It became clear I probably wouldn’t be getting married. My father tried to cheer me up. He told me that a long time ago the government feared a rebellion. They wanted to make sure the people weren’t smarter than them. It was important that smart people didn’t breed with other smart people. The Registry was created to keep people unintelligent. It’s a population control.

  “The government still doesn’t want people getting too smart or having too many smart children,” Whitney said. “I am one of those people, according to my father. My offspring might overthrow them one day, so that’s why they priced me so low, so no husband would desire me. I don’t know if I believe it or not, but it helps me sleep at night.”

  Mia thought of Whitney’s impressive math skills and her cheap price tag. The explanation did make sense. Still, Mia wasn’t entirely convinced either. But she did know that this system was wrong, regardless of the rationale. She sat down and took Whitney’s hand. “You’ll still have those genius children, and maybe someday they will come back and overthrow the government.”

  “What’s gotten into you?” Whitney asked. “Running away? Inquiring about history? Giving me a real pep talk? I know you; a few months ago you would’ve been dancing with joy over getting married.”

  “People change. I guess I just opened my eyes,” Mia said.

  “I know that. Trust me, I’m not complaining about the change,” Whitney said. “But people don’t just change that drastically for no reason. Something happened. Tell me.”

  Mia couldn’t bring herself to explain the situation to Whitney. She wasn’t ready and she wasn’t sure Whitney was ready to hear it, but she did need to give some reason.

  “I just don’t want to end up in an unhappy marriage. I would rather be free and not risk it.”

  “What makes you think you would be unhappy? Your parents have a nice life.”

  With no education and no professional options, American females are helpless and unaware of their plight. The words rang in Mia’s mind. She had always thought her parents’ marriage was ideal. Her mother was so happy to serve her father’s every whim. But now everything looked different. Her mother did everything her father asked; she had no personality of her own and no care for anyone but him. Not even for her own offspring.

  “I want to stay me for a while longer.”

  Mia doubted Whitney bought her explanation, but Whitney knew her well enough not to pry. She smiled and squeezed Mia’s hand. The two of them would make it away with ease.

  Chapter 6

  When courting potential matches, no man wants a talkative lady. It is best for females to avoid speaking unless asked a question, and then they should respond only in short form. If the courting leads to marriage, then natural conversation will come easily to the newlyweds.

  —The Registry Guide for Girls

  Mia looked straight at the mirror and was surprised by the person looking back at her. She had so much makeup on that her skin looked flawless. Her mother had attached fake lashes, which made it difficult to open her pale blue eyes but accentuated them. Her hair was stick straight, teased a mile high and clipped in the back, not a single strand out of place. Mia reminded herself over and over to ignore how beautiful she felt and focus on the article’s words. Girls grow up thinking beauty is the only thing that matters. They are dressed up and auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  “Here’s your dress.” Her mother hung a long gown outside the closet. Mia’s eyes lit up and her mother smiled with delight. “I’ve been working on it for months; it’s the most important dress you’ll ever wear.”

  Mia’s stomach churned. She scolded herself for getting excited about the dress, but she couldn’t help herself; it was stunning.

  The dress was jet-black, the skirt straight with a slit so high it would hit Mia’s waist, and a belt of black diamonds adorned the hips. From there the top was two strips, leaving Mia’s navel exposed but still covering her small bust. The strips were long enough to wrap around her neck and still hang some fabric down her otherwise fully exposed back.

  “Well, what do you think?” her mother asked, wide-eyed and smiling.

  Mia didn’t want to get so dolled up for anyone, let alone for a man she’d never met before, but she felt herself smile.

  “Speechless, just like I thought,” her mother said, pulling the dress off the hanger and handing it to her daughter.

  Mia felt elegant slipping into the garment.

  “Perfect, you look just perfect,” her mother said, and turned Mia around to the mirror. “What man could say no to you?”

  Mia’s mind went to the article she’d found. The picture showed a woman in a white dress, but Mia’s was black. She started to think the article was a lie; there was no way such a beautiful gown could be the basis for something so evil. She snapped her mind back to reality and scowled. The words were more important than the picture, and she had proof it wasn’t a lie; Corinna had lost her life to make sure Mia knew that.

  “I know you’re nervous, but he is going to love you.” Her mother sat on the bed and smiled at Mia. She was obviously mistaking her daughter’s unhappiness for anxiety. “He is quite a catch, too. You couldn’t ask for a better husband.”

  After this meet-and-greet, there was no way Mr. Grant Marsden, whoever he was, would be interested in marrying Mia.

  “He made it clear he will pay your full price if he decides to marry you.” She pulled a pair of six-inch black diamond–encrusted heels out for Mia to wear. “You are lucky. Almost nobody gets their full appraisal amount. You’ll go for more than all your sisters combined.”

  Mia hated it when her mother brought up her sisters. She knew her mother cared little for them and didn’t think she had the right to call herself a parent. Corinna had been so hurt over giving up her child; Mia wondered if her mother related at all.

  “Did you ever have a boy?” Mia asked.

  Her mother looked shocked and uneasy at the question. Mia didn’t want to draw more unwanted attention from her.

  “I mean, what if this man is actually my brother?”

  “No. I was lucky, all beautiful girls. Especially you.” Laura walked around Mia. “Besides, you know that’s why they do the blood test; if there was a relative out there he wouldn’t even get access to your page.”

  Mia believed her mother, but even if she did have a son it was doubtful she had cared about him. Particularly after the way she reacted to Corinna’s death.

  “You look so beautiful, but remember the rules. Sit up straight, and if he tries to touch you, scream. There is no touching of any kind prior to the wedding. Don’t even let him hold your hand. It is going to be hard for him with you looking like this.”

  “You don’t have to worry.” Mia shuddered.

  “Good girl. You’ll have a nice time tonight,” her mother promised. “We set up the dining room for a romantic meal for two. Your father even got one of the boys to serve as a waiter. It will be so elegant. Who knows, by the end of the night you might be engaged.”

  Just then the doorbell rang through the house. Her mother squealed with delight, while Mia continued to stare at the strange girl in the mirror.

  Mia pressed herself against the wall, scared to look down at the bottom of the staircase. Her parents were greeting Mr. Marsden, and she could hear them laughing as if they were old friends. Mia was supposed to wait for them to call her and then make a “glamorous” entrance down the staircase. She decided to take a quick peek and see what she was up against.

  Grant Marsde
n was an attractive man. His brown hair hung over his brow; he had prominent cheekbones and a boyish face. Mia guessed he was about a decade older than she.

  Mia heard her father call her name but couldn’t make herself move. She didn’t know whether her paralysis stemmed from actual fear or she was simply starting to sabotage the night already.

  Taking a breath, she started the descent. Her leg stuck out of the high slit and her heel accentuated the length of her leg. The sound of her shoes hitting the stairs amused her. She held in her laughter, thinking the whole night was a joke. All of a sudden, she knew what to do.

  A devilish smile crossed Mia’s face. She realized this meeting might be fun. Breaking the rules and crushing this man’s interest would be simple.

  “Sorry, just finishing up.” As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Mia walked straight to her proposed mate. “I’m Mia, it’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Grant?”

  After several moments of dirty looks from her parents, Mia and Grant were set up in the dining room. Her mother had set out the fine china and dimmed the lights for a more intimate atmosphere.

  Grant pulled out Mia’s chair as she sat down. He gave an awkward smile and a shallow laugh. Mia wondered if he felt as strange as she did.

  Before one of them could break the silence, Andrew entered the room. Mia had never seen him look so nice. Sophisticated, even. His dark hair was slicked back away from his eyes, and he was dressed in all black. Mia found herself staring at him, while he did not attempt to make eye contact with her. Grant coughed.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” Mia said before Grant had the opportunity to speak.

  Grant looked down and shook his head. He looked up with a pressed smile. “It is inappropriate for you to ask me questions.” His voice was filled with annoyance. “It is inappropriate for you to speak at all without my addressing you first, but I suppose you already know that. Just like you know you’re not supposed to use my first name unless I give you permission.”

 

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