by Lane, Styna
“With this flame, may we be united,” Roland called, lowering his torch to the pile of wood.
A portion of the others repeated his words, and sent their flames flying into the woodpile, but there was a visible divide. The older generations spoke with passion and faith, but from Al’s generation down, I noticed a lot of silence and eye-rolling. Many of them, Cora and Nixon included, simply closed their palms, never joining their flames with the others. Perhaps the Eden was not as perfect as it seemed.
‘The old ways are dying out,’ Al’s voice called in my head, as my eyes locked with his from across the fire.
‘Why? After all this time?’ I thought.
‘Because of you.’
‘What?!’
‘If your generation hadn’t been lost, none of us would have ever integrated ourselves with The Destructive Ones. When we did, we noticed a lot of… inconsistencies with what we were raised to believe. Some have decided to deviate from the old ways, because they’re unproductive; Folklore, handed down from the generations to keep us divided from the outside world.’
‘What do you believe?’ I asked.
‘I believe that things have changed, and will continue to change. And I don’t think we’ll ever make a difference if we don’t change along with them. But many of us respect our elders and traditions enough to go with it.’
I felt an inexplicable sadness grow inside of me. It was as if I’d just learned that the encompassing peace of the Eden was only a ruse, projected by many of the inhabitants to play along with tradition until tradition finally died with age or lost memories. And it was partially my fault.
“Do you guys want to go for a walk?” Gabe’s voice shook me out of my own head. I hadn’t even noticed that he and Reagan had been standing behind us.
“Where to?” Lakin asked skeptically. I couldn’t blame him for being unsure of Gabe’s intentions, but I trusted him. I didn’t know why I trusted him… but I did.
“We just want to give you a tour of the Eden,” Reagan said innocently, voice as airy as the wind.
“Okay,” I said, more than happy to get away from the crowd for a while.
“Angie, I don’t know,” Lakin whispered, grabbing hold of my arm as I moved to follow after them.
“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen, really?” I said, tilting my head to the side.
“Wouldn’t it be rude to leave, though? They’re doing all of this for us,” he said.
I looked around the fire; everyone had begun to dance and sing and chat, again, seemingly unaware that we were even there.
“I think it’ll be all right,” I chuckled.
“We won’t be gone long,” Reagan said, gesturing toward the rest of the Eden. “If you haven’t noticed, this place isn’t very big.”
Lakin thought for a moment, lowering his eyebrows with uncertainty. “I’m going to stay. And I think you should stay, too.”
“Suit yourself,” I said stubbornly, taking off after the eccentric couple.
“So, what do you think?” Gabe asked, after we were out of earshot of the gathering.
“Of what?” I asked, kicking a small stone from the dark path.
“This place? The people? Is it better than The Facility?” he questioned.
“Anywhere is better than The Facility,” I said.
“You’ve never been to Singapore,” Reagan muttered. Gabe laughed, as though it were some sort of inside joke between the two of them.
“Well, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Al,” he said casually.
“What conversation?”
“A few minutes ago… About our traditions,” Reagan said, knowing exactly what Gabe was referring to.
“You… you were listening to that?” I breathed. My heart raced, not because I felt caught, but because I was suddenly very angry that my thoughts were no longer safe from the ears of strangers. I was comfortable enough with Al that his voice never felt intrusive inside my head, but I didn’t know these people, and I definitely didn’t want them poking around my brain. “So, is this an ambush, or something?”
“Not at all,” Reagan said sincerely.
“Which side are you on, then?” I asked. “Are you guys all ‘pitchforks and torches’ to the old ways?”
“Not even close,” Gabe said. Based on my first—and second—impression of him, I never would have thought that he could be so serious. “Come on.”
I followed them around the back of a house near the end of the Eden. I assumed it was theirs, but didn’t ask. As the soft grass squished beneath my feet, my jaw dropped at the sight; a massive garden sprawled out in front of us, leading all the way to where the wall of water met the ground. Torches lined the edges, casting flickering shadows against leaves and flowers. I recognized many of the plants from the greenhouse at The Facility, others from Emmy’s Botany books that I had skimmed through on occasion, but some looked so exotic that they couldn’t have possibly been from earth.
“This is amazing,” I whispered, surprised that the Eden could have been any more beautiful than what I’d already seen.
“Thanks!”
I jumped, nearly falling over, as an old woman popped her head up from amongst the greenery.
“Mother,” Gabe shouted, just as startled as I was. “What are you doing out here?”
“Gardening,” the woman said, staring blankly as if the answer had been obvious.
“It’s nighttime. You should be home,” he said, carefully stepping through plants to usher his mother out of the garden.
“But it’s so boring there, Gabriel,” the woman said, perfectly mimicking the discontent of a child who had just told to clean their room. “And Jackie keeps asking when Cookie is coming to visit. And I told her, I said, ‘Jackie, baked goods aren’t going to visit you, but I’ll make some snickerdoodles, if you like,’ and then she started crying.”
As they grew nearer, I sensed a definite oddness about Gabe’s mother. She was all decked out in a flappy gardening hat, cooking apron, hiking boots, and oven mitts. I was certainly no expert on gardening, but something told me that it wasn’t exactly normal gear for picking weeds.
“I’m going to walk her home,” Gabe said quietly. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’m telling you right now, Gabriel. If Jackie’s painted the living room pink, again, I’m moving in with you and Rhiannon.”
“Reagan, mom. Her name’s Reagan.”
I wouldn’t have pictured Gabe as the sweet, kind type, but the manner in which he interacted with his mother reminded me so much of Lily, it became a little less unbelievable that they were siblings.
“Grace isn’t all there,” Reagan explained, leaning against the garden-fence after Gabe and his mother had disappeared from view. “She lost everything when she recycled.”
“But she remembers him?”
“They know who we are because we tell them. They don’t remember giving birth to us, or raising us. They don’t remember any of it. Some of them accept it better than others when we tell them, though. Some of them just get worse.” I could sense the hurt deep in her chest as she spoke.
“So she didn’t handle it too well?”
“Actually, she’s one of the better ones. She’s one of the few recycled who lives on her own. Most of them end up in joint houses, where we take shifts watching after them.”
“What about Jackie?” I asked, recalling the woman’s ramblings.
“Jackie is her cat.”
“I see…” I said, suddenly very concerned that someone who thought their cat had painted the living room pink was considered to be one of the ‘better ones.’ “What about your parents?”
Reagan sighed, pursing her lips as she looked out over the garden. “All of our parents were lost when they recycled. It’s the first generation we know of to have that happen. It’s one of the things that’s fueling the rebellion against the old ways. We can’t ignore that things are changing.”
“You agree, then? You think al
l the traditions should be ditched?”
“No,” Reagan said defensively. “Gabe and I do think there should be some… modifications. But we think they should be integrated in with the old ways. That’s why we planted this garden.”
“What does a garden have to do with anything?”
“We all have our roles, here. That’s how it’s always been. But fewer and fewer people were taking interest in farming, and they were relying more on food from town. They were making pointless trips into public, because they don’t think we should ‘barricade’ ourselves within the Eden. But it’s not about sheltering ourselves. It’s about living in harmony with nature. Nature doesn’t come in a tin can or a plastic bottle,” she sighed sadly. “A lot of people have forgotten what our purpose is, Angie. They think we’re meant to take out The Destructive Ones.”
“Aren’t we?”
“No,” she breathed, gazing at me with pain in her eyes as if she couldn’t believe the words that had come out of my mouth. “Our responsibility is to the Earth, and to all living things on it.”
“But The Destructive Ones aren’t from here. And they’re destroying the planet. So, wouldn’t it make sense to—”
“We don’t harm other living things if we don’t have to, Angie. You asked which side Gabe and I were on… maybe you should figure out which side you’re on.” Reagan stared at me hard, as if challenging me. She didn’t seem angry or offended, but disappointed… like she’d had some idea of what kind of person I would be, only to find out that I wasn’t at all like she’d hoped. Something inside me felt terrible for letting down a person I barely knew.
“I’m sorry—” I began.
“Reagan? Angie? What are you doing back here?” I turned toward the voice, finding a very accusing-looking Cora behind us. Her artic eyes pierced me in a way that Al’s never had. They were cold and empty.
“I was showing her the garden,” Reagan said protectively, refusing to break Cora’s gaze.
“You really ought to be getting back to the gathering,” Cora said, the slightest sneer creeping out at the corners of her mouth.
“Of course,” Reagan agreed, wrapping an arm around me as she began walking toward the front of the house. Cora didn’t follow, but I could feel her eyes on our backs as we reached the path.
“Don’t be sorry,” Reagan said, responding to the apology I’d been attempting to make before Cora cut me off. “Just be careful.”
Chapter Seven
Dandelions and Rainbows
Lily and Al, along with many others, had already retired from the party by the time I’d found Lakin and assured him that Gabe and Reagan hadn’t brainwashed me or inducted me into some sort of Satanic cult. We’d thanked those who had lingered, once again, for the gifts, and hauled armfuls of jars and bags and boxes back to the house. Seeing that the lanterns had already been doused, we’d assumed Lily and Al were fast asleep, and we’d situated ourselves on the living room floor, stacking our gifts neatly next to the couch. Lying just a few inches in front of me, Lakin’s eyes had clouded over as he relived my conversation with Reagan.
“You trust them,” he had said, voice weighed down with sleep.
“I do.”
“Is that really necessary?” I awoke to the sounds of Lily’s irritated voice.
“Yes,” Gabe said sternly. “She baked twenty batches, last night. Do you have any idea how many cookies that is? That’s, like, a thousand cookies.”
“You’re really bad at math,” Al said, mouth full of, what I could only assume was, cookie.
“Only for dramatic effect.” Gabe defended himself. “She didn’t sleep at all. She’s getting worse. I think it needs to happen.”
“Well, it’s your house. You can do whatever you want,” Lily said nonchalantly.
“That’s the thing,” Gabe said, sounding as if he didn’t want the words to come out of his mouth. “She can’t move in with us.”
“What?” Lily asked in a low tone.
“Reagan is allergic to cats, and mom’s not going to leave Jackie behind.”
“So, you think she should move in here?!” I’d never known a whisper to be so loud.
“She’s your mom, too.”
“She doesn’t even know me, Gabriel! The last time I talked to her, she called me Donna,” Lily said, a tinge of hurt flooding her voice.
“Then she’ll have to go into one of the joint houses.” Gabe’s words seemed to sink in to Lily’s heart and cast an anchor.
“Fine. We’ll move her in tonight.”
“Good, thank you.”
I didn’t sit up until I heard the door shut, and was sure Gabe had left, for fear of intruding on personal matters that weren’t any of my business. Al and Lily were sitting at the kitchen table in silence, staring at each other with looks of uncertainty over a very large plate of snickerdoodles.
“Oh, good morning, Angie. I hope we didn’t wake you,” Lily said, abruptly returning to her sweet, cheery self. I thought I saw her brush a tear from her cheek as she wandered to the stove.
“No, not at all,” I said, faking a yawn and a stretch. I looked down at Lakin, who was still fast asleep, arm flung up over his face, and a trickle of drool dampening his pillow.
“Would you like some bacon?” She asked, firing up the stove before I could answer.
“Bacon?” Lakin shot upright, eyes still half-shut, and hair sticking out at every angle imaginable. We all stared at him in shock, even Lily popped her head around the wall to eye him curiously.
“Bacon,” I laughed, pushing myself to my feet before reaching down an arm to the boy next to me. “C’mon, sleeping beauty.”
Al kicked one of the chairs out to me, and I helped the incredibly-tired Lakin to sit. My nose instinctively wrinkled itself up as Lily reached for her tea-jar.
“Not to be picky, but… do you have anything other than tea? Coffee, maybe?” I’d had more tea in the last couple days than I’d probably had in my entire life. Oh, what I would have done for a cup of coffee.
Lily blinked at me for a moment, as my request took its own sweet time to sink in.
“Of course! I’m sorry,” she said, frantically searching the cupboards. “I sort of go on auto-pilot in the mornings.”
“It’s okay, really. If you don’t have—” I began, feeling a bit guilty for upsetting her routine.
“No, no, no… I know I have coffee around here, somewhere… Aha!” She said, retrieving a dusty jar of dark grounds from the highest cupboard.
I leaned over to Al with apprehension. “How old is that?”
“I didn’t even know we had it,” he whispered.
“You know, now that I think of it, tea is fine. Really,” I said.
“You sure?” she asked, brushing a thick layer of dust from the lid of the jar.
“Definitely,” I said as convincingly as possible.
“Okay,” Lily shrugged, returning the jar to the cupboard and going back to the stove.
Just as she was pouring Lakin’s tea, the floor shook violently beneath our feet. The rumbling lasted only seconds, but was severe enough to force photos crashing from the walls. Lakin's mug had tipped over, and scalding liquid ran across the table in a haphazard stream, sketching a dark labyrinth into the wood. I looked from face to face, finding the same confusion and fear that riddled my insides.
“Al?” Lily's voice wavered, as her bond slowly opened the front door.
Doors from each house around the underwater-town opened, the heads of curious residents poking out like prairie dogs for answers. Lakin and I followed Al onto the porch, looking to the water above our heads, but not finding anything unordinary... other than the water above our heads, of course.
“What was that?” an older, disheveled-looking man asked from the house across the walkway. I didn’t recognize him from the gathering.
“Earthquake?” another man, whom I did recognize, but whose name I could not remember, responded from two houses down the path.
“Didn�
��t feel like an earthquake to me,” the unfamiliar man said grumpily.
Lily’s generation came running up the pathway, stopping just inches in front of us. Lakin and I nervously backed up against the house, noticing other groups gathering around in the same manner. Lily stepped out from the safety of the doorway, her eyes emitting a ghostly white light. Soon, beams of light connected one person from each group, in a scene that looked not unlike an alien abduction. I quickly concluded that these people, the ones with light shooting out of their eyeballs, were the Oracles of each generation… which did not make the experience any less weird.
“Nixon, take Cora into town with you. Get some answers,” she said sternly, after the light had finally subsided.
Nixon nodded, taking Cora’s hand. Al’s eyes followed after them with concern, as they headed toward the tunnel that would lead them into civilization.
Al led us back into the house after the crowds had finally dispersed. Silence weighed down the air as we helped clean up the spilt tea and broken glass. Lily sighed as she emptied a skillet of burnt bacon into the trashcan. I wondered how common it was for food to be wasted in the Eden, and then suddenly realized why the trashcan looked so familiar. But Al spoke up before I could say anything.
“Did you have to send Cora?”
Lakin and I stopped picking up shards of glass, halted by the abrupt tenseness of the room.
“You know the decision was not only up to me,” she said quietly, her tone a sort of disturbingly calm rage.
Al let his broom fall against a wall, locking eyes with Lily. Judging by their facial expressions, the words they were exchanging inside their heads were not about dandelions and rainbows. They seemed to have such a peaceful relationship, it felt unnatural to see them argue. It probably would have felt unnatural to watch anyone argue without actually speaking, but especially so for them. Since I couldn’t hear where they were at in their fight, it took me by surprise when Al hastily made his way for the door.
“Angie, Lakin... come with me,” he ordered, not stopping to look back as he left the house.
