First

by Chanda Stafford

  “It’s okay,” I whisper. “I’m not going to hurt you.” It growls again, a low noise rising up in the barn’s stillness. It’s a wild animal, you idiot, of course it can’t understand you.

  I kneel down in the dusty, unused stall next to the cage, letting the dim sunlight from the open barn door bathe the cage. In the faded space between light and dark, the poor creature’s sides heave with terror. Its ribs stick out against a tattered, patchy hide. It looks awful, not at all like the softly furred plump foxes the Chesanings usually hunt.

  Slowly, I pull a small paper-wrapped package from my pocket and open it. Then, even more carefully, I take out a piece of brownish-gray composite meat I saved from my breakfast and drop little bits of it through the bars. It tastes only marginally better than the toast. Hopefully the fox won’t care. After a few seconds, its shiny coal-black nose twitches. “Yeah, I know, it doesn’t smell the greatest either, but it’s the best I can do.” I back away from the stall.

  Behind me, there’s a crackling, shuffling noise, the kind that only comes when someone walks on fresh straw. I jump and spin around. Nothing. As my heart beats faster than the fox’s, a familiar shape steps out of the shadows by the back door to the barn. “Tanner, what are you doing here?” I gasp, my breath coming out in a short burst. What’s wrong with me? It’s only Tanner. I’ve known him my whole life. I grin nervously, trying to get rid of my panic. What’s he doing here? Is he looking for me? He should be out in the fields, working. I rub my palms on my pants and try to straighten my uniform, smearing dirt and dust from the barn in long streaks.

  Sunlight glances off his face and gives him a golden red halo. He’s dressed in the dark brown coverall all the field workers wear and holds a worn, green horse lead in one hand. His eyes, normally sparkling with light and easy laughter, are cold and stony, like a stranger’s. “Spartacus stepped in a gopher hole, sprained his ankle. I’m bringing Tomas out to take his place. What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be in the Manor, working with that teacher they sent from Washington? It’s dangerous for you to be out here alone.” He holds himself stiffly, watching my reaction. As if he doesn’t know me anymore.

  “Nothing,” I say, but then I glance back at the stall. Tanner’s eyes follow my gaze. When I look back at him, I feel myself standing up straighter, taller. I don’t have anything to be ashamed of. I’m not doing anything wrong… well, okay, I probably am, but this is such a minor thing, it’s almost non-existent. “It’s not like I’m out in the woods, Tanner, this is the barn. I’m perfectly safe out here.”

  He shakes his head. “Not all danger walks on four legs, Mir.”

  “Present company included?” I quip.

  A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. He strolls over to me, only to stop a couple feet away, as if there’s some invisible wall standing tall and firm between us.

  Tears burn the back of my eyes. “Tanner,” I whisper. The name I’ve said a thousand times before sounds almost foreign on my lips, as if it belongs to a stranger.

  Even dusty from half a day in the fields with dirt streaking his temple and sweat staining his collar, Tanner is still the most handsome guy at the farm. Oh Tanner, I’m never going to see you again. I’m so sorry. My breath catches in my throat, and a feeling strangely like the beginning of a sob catches up to me. No, I can’t. Lip quivering, I blink away more tears. Relax Mira. Look at Tanner, does he look upset? That’s the part that shakes me the most. He’s just standing there, like one of the bleached white columns on the Manor house, like it doesn’t matter. The only way I can tell he’s even bothered the least is that his hands clench into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

  Leaning back against the stall door, I try to act relaxed. “Nothing, I was just feeding the fox. I thought it might be getting hungry.”

  “It doesn’t matter, you know that, right? Those hunts are brutal. It’s not like it’s going to get out of this alive.” The way he says it is mocking, as if there’s more to it than just a fox, and he jams his fists, including the one holding the horse lead, into his deep pockets.

  “It’s not right.”

  “No, it’s not. Capturing something so beautiful just to kill it.” He looks at me this time, and I get this strange feeling he’s not talking about the fox anymore.

  Before I can ask him about that, understanding dawns in me. “Is that why it looks so terrible? It’s wild-caught?” I glance back at the cage, but all I can see are two glinting, beady eyes.

  “Yep. I heard Chesaning telling one of the guys how someone from Laurel trapped it. The boss paid about half as much as they would for a captive bred one, on account of it being so rough-looking. I guess they’re just going to let the dogs have it after they kill it. It’s not like the pelt’s worth anything.”

  “But… but that’s against the law.”

  Tanner raises an eyebrow, a sardonic grin curving his lips. “Really, Mir? This is nothing compared to what they’re doing to you, and here you are, worried about a stupid fox?”

  I turn away so Tanner won’t see the way my cheeks turn red with shame. “It’s not just a fox, Tan. It’s a living, breathing creature. It’s not right, and you know it.” Already, I can hear my gears turning. The urge to help this creature is so strong I yearn to ask Tan for help. At one point in time, not that long ago, he would have been right by my side. Now, I’m not so sure.

  “So I guess that makes you just a girl, then, right?” His breath whispers the words against the back of my neck a second before his fingers trace my arm. Gently, almost as if I’m the wild animal, he takes my shoulder and turns me around, taking me in his arms. “I’m sorry, Mir, really. I don’t have any right to snap at you. None of this is your fault.”

  I look up at him just as his lips gently touch mine. “Tanner,” I whisper, and freeze—the same kind of motionlessness that overcomes a deer when I startle one at the edge of the fields or in the playground. I press my body against his, anxious to feel something, anything but this fear I’ve felt since being chosen. But there’s nothing except the warmth of his lips on mine and a sudden chill when he steps away.

  “What have you gotten yourself into?” he murmurs, his lips a breath apart from mine.

  I pull away and look down at the dirt smearing my clothes from the barn. “It’s just dirt. It’ll wash off.”

  Tanner sighs and looks away, past me, maybe at something he sees, maybe at something in his head. But by the time his eyes meet mine again, I know he’s not talking about the dirt on my clothes. He’s talking about something else, something bigger. A cool breeze picks up, and one of the horses in the barn rustles in his stall. I shiver. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s not safe even here in the barn, in the middle of the farm. But if I’m not safe here, where else could I possibly be safe?

  “We shouldn’t be doing this.” I bite my bottom lip, and Tanner watches me carefully before shaking his head as my words sink in.

  “That’s right, you’re better than us now. You’re Absolved.” The anger rages in his voice even though he outwardly doesn’t show it except for jerking back a step, as if eager to get some space between us.

  “What? No!” How could things go so wrong so quickly? “Tanner, that’s not it at all!” I reach for him. He looks at my hand, but refuses to take it. I drop it, crushed, and scrub at my eyes with the back of my hand.

  “What else could it be? I came by your house yesterday. You were there, Max told me, but you didn’t want to see me. Why?”

  “I… I…” How do you tell the person you’re supposed to love that you’re leaving them forever? “I… I couldn’t.”

  “This is me, Mira. Tanner. Remember? We’ve been together forever. I thought you loved me.” He shakes his head, and I can see his pain in the sharp movements, the angry squint of his eyes, his mouth, the muscle twitching in his cheek. A body whose signals a
re almost as familiar to me as my own.

  That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. I rush forward and grab his hands. “I’m sorry, Tanner. I… I just couldn’t see anyone. It wasn’t you, honest.”

  “But it is me.” His voice is low, agonized, and the pain in his eyes make mine close. After his words sink in, he sighs. “Were you even there?”

  I bite my lip and look away. “No, I snuck out.”

  Understanding dawns on his face, relaxes the crease between his eyes. “Rosie?”

  I nod.

  “I’m sorry, Mira. I had no idea.” Sympathy colors his voice.

  “It’s okay, I just… I had to be alone for a while.” Not sure what to say next, I spread my hands on Tanner’s chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in his coverall. The urge to hold him, to wipe that painful grimace off of his face, has me moving onto my tiptoes, ready to touch my lips with his.

  Tanner shakes his head and steps back, gently setting me away from him. “I’m sorry, Mira. I shouldn’t have been so upset. But after the mail came yesterday, I didn’t know what to think.”

  “I know. I know. I should have told you myself but—” I pause as the rest of his words sink in. “Wait. What do you mean about after the mail came?” What could have possibly made him mad in the mail?

  “Don’t act like you don’t know. You got the same letter I did.”

  “I didn’t get anything. My mom would have told me. Yesterday…” Oh yeah, yesterday.

  I feel the blood drain from my face as Tanner pulls an official, white envelope, well-creased and stained around the edges from his pocket. He stares at it for a few seconds before shaking his head, tossing the envelope on the ground between us, and turning away, stalking toward Tomas’s stall. The large bay draft gelding leans his head out, nickering softly.

  No. It can’t be. After all this time. Oh God, Tanner, what have I done? Taking my eyes from his retreating form, I pick up the envelope and open it, sliding out a single piece of paper. Across the top of the page, fancy lettering reads “Official Marriage Authorization.”

  “Tanner, wait!” Fingers numb, I drop the paper and run toward him. “I didn’t know. Honest.” He stops, but doesn’t turn around. I dodge in front of him. He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

  I grab his hands. “I swear I didn’t get anything like this,” I plead, my voice rising to a whine.

  “Come on, Mira. Everyone knows how Authorizations work. We both get letters on the same day. It’s always been done like that.” He shakes his head, steps around me, and walks over to Tomas’s stall, leaving me behind. Undoing the latch on the door, he clips the lead to the big bay’s halter and leads him out. He stops in front of me, his face solid and sure, a faint twinge of sarcasm in his voice. “But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? You’re Absolved. You don’t need people like me holding you back.” He passes me, leads Tomas to a post near the tack room, and ties him to a ring in the wall. He grabs a fresh harness and sets it on the horse’s back.

  A sob catches in my throat, and I jam my fist into my mouth and bite down. An eerie cry echoes throughout the almost empty barn. I jump and spin around.

  “Relax, it’s just the fox,” Tanner calls. “Poor thing probably knows it’s reached the end of the line.”

  “I still think that’s terrible.” I turn to the stall as the animal’s cry rises to an almost impossible pitch.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not as if they bought it as a pet. Besides, they’ve done this dozens of times. It didn’t seem to bother you much then.”

  “Yes, but… this is wrong. It’s different this time.”

  “How?” He seems to have forgotten his earlier anger. “They’ve all died. What’s different now?”

  A shiver races up my spine. I know he’s talking about the fox, but there’s something that tells me it’s more than that. “This fox knew freedom, and now she’s a prisoner.”

  “Like you?” He unclips Tomas’s lead rope and walks back in my direction, toward the door. I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath.

  The electronic bell at the manor house rings three times, a deep tone you can hear even from the edge of the fields closest to the house.

  “That isn’t true. I’m not a prisoner,” I cry, but he ignores me.

  Tanner’s words follow me as I take the long way to the manor, trying to compose myself. What is he talking about? This isn’t a battle, and I’m no prize to be won or lost. What exactly is he fighting for? Gerald ushers me in and leads me to the tearoom. Lush carpeting muffles our footsteps.

  Mr. Flannigan huffs to his feet as I enter the room. “Good morning, Mira. How are you today?” He sits back down, face slightly red.

  I plaster a fake smile on my face, trying not to think about Tanner. I’m not a prisoner, really. I could have said no, right? “Just great. How about you?”

  “Can’t complain, my girl. I spoke with Socrates last night.”

  That wakes me up. I try to mimic his calm and cock an eyebrow at his mysterious response. “Oh? How is he? He didn’t look so good when he was here.”

  “Well, he is almost ninety, so that’s to be expected. He was interested in learning how our first day together went.” Mr. Flannigan straightens his shoulders and sits back. The wicker creaks and bends under his weight.

  “What did he say about the vaccines?” When he nods at the other chair, I gingerly take the seat and turn so I can see his eyes.

  Mr. Flannigan hesitates, words perched on the tip of his tongue. “He said it might take some doing to get that amount of medicine here, but he doesn’t think there’ll be too much of a problem.”

  “Much of a problem? Does he really think of this as a problem?” I tilt my head, the anger in my voice clear even to me.

  Mr. Flannigan raises his eyebrows as if I’m the crazy one. “Well, it is a highly unusual request. Most Seconds don’t ask for anything. It is a privilege to be chosen, after all.”

  “Yeah, you said that before. Still don’t see it as much of a privilege to me.” The anger comes to the surface, and I can’t hold it in. “I don’t think you get it, Mr. Flannigan. Yes, there’s a disease. Yes, kids die. But they don’t even let us bury them. They don’t even let us say good-bye.”

  He frowns. “I didn’t know that.”

  “When we die, these people called cleaners come. They wrap us up in white plastic sheets, and take us away to who-knows-where.” I look out the big window and can almost see the shiny silver hovercrafts landing gently, doors sliding open, ladders descending, and spilling green-clothed doctors. Fully masked from their heads to the soles of their feet, they follow Mr. Chesaning to whatever house has had a loss and depart with a white wrapped bundle. Oftentimes, it’s a small bundle that’s handled more like a package than a human being. My fists tighten at my sides.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. Flannigan says, and I spin around, jarred from my thoughts. I almost believe him, but he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t realize what it’s like to live the way we do, completely governed by other people. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to discuss this further, but I will certainly relay your concerns to Socrates.”

  “Don’t bother,” I snarl, disgust dripping from my words. “If getting one farm’s fill of cures is that difficult, then vaccinating the whole world would be impossible.”

  “As. I. Said.” He narrows his eyes. “We don’t have much time left at the farm, so today we’re going to discuss the necessary table manners you will need for the Acceptance banquet.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “And that’s more important than saving lives?”

  He picks up his thin tablet from the table between us, taps on it for a few seconds, and speaks without looking at me. “Yes. I understand yours are a bit… lacking.”

  I shrug, trying not to let his attitude bug me. “We
have more important things to worry about here, like growing the crops you people eat.”

  He shakes his head. “While your manners don’t matter under normal circumstances, you’re Socrates’s Second now, and if you come to the Smith with a farmer’s etiquette, well… you’re a disaster waiting to happen.”

  “How hard can it be? We’re not animals.”

  “Do you honestly believe your new role will be easy? Because I can assure you—”

  “No, of course not,” I snap, then grimace. Maybe my temper needs as much work as my manners. “I’m sorry, Mr. Flannigan. I don’t mean to be rude. I guess it’s still hard for me to accept that this is happening to me. I’ve never been off the farm before, and I’ll be leaving forever.” I get up and walk over to the window, trying to escape my vulnerability.

  “You know, your First is an incredible man.”

  I look at him. “Why? They don’t teach us much about them at school. Just enough to do the visits.”

  “He’s actually putting forth a bill called the Free America Act. It will free your people.”

  “Really?” Surprise and hope kindle inside me. Maybe this isn’t so bad after all. “He wants to free us?” Mr. Flannigan nods. “But what’ll happen to me?”

  “You’ll still be his Second, if that’s what you’re afraid of. He won’t send you back.”

  “Good.” I nod and look back out over the courtyard. “I don’t think I could bear being sent back.”

  The dirt-packed courtyard is empty. In the distant fields, men and women work the earth in an ancient dance of life, death, and rebirth. Where would I be if I weren’t chosen? Following Tanner to the fields? Tending Spartacus? Watching Max? It already feels like another life.

  Mr. Flannigan walks up behind me, surprisingly quiet for someone so large. “Why not? There’s something beautiful about life on a farm. So peaceful and innocent since the Climate Act. A simpler time, without technology coming in and complicating the hell out of everything.”