State of Grace

by Hilary Badger

  My sungarb’s spread out on the rocks and I figure Blaze must have done that for me, since I’m pretty sure I just dropped it in a ball on the ground earlier. I scoop it up and put it on. Then I walk past Blaze and he doesn’t say a single thing.

  It’s only when I’m just about to start climbing the rocks that he goes, ‘It’d be even better off the escarpment.’

  I do the blinking thing at him, all slow and everything, but it doesn’t work on Blaze the same as it does on Jasper. Actually, it makes Blaze look away.

  ‘Um, are you completely prenormal or are you just acting like that right now?’ I ask.

  Blaze shrugs. I notice the way his coiled brown hair slides up and down his broad back as he nods up at the escarpment.

  ‘Up there. That ledge’s perfect for jumping.’

  The escarpment runs the entire length of one edge of creation, meeting up with the fringe of trees at either end. It’s sheer, solid rock with these little specks of gold sparkling in the sun. Right here, where the lagoon is, the waterfall rushes down the rock face. The ledge Blaze’s talking about, this little lip of rock, is maybe halfway up.

  ‘Are you serious? I thought you said you’d read the Books!’

  A soft little sigh escapes from between Blaze’s teeth. ‘I’ve read them.’

  ‘The Book of the Beyond is kind of clear on this particular topic. We’re not meant to do anything presafe.’

  ‘Wouldn’t be presafe for you.’

  He pauses.

  ‘You can climb anything.’

  I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I think I hear the teensiest bit of admiration in what Blaze is saying. And I’ll admit that low voice of his makes me feel a little bit gooey.

  Then the feeling passes and I remember who I’m talking to here.

  Blaze. The guy who isn’t quite like everyone else but doesn’t seem to care. The one who comes out with the most prenormal stuff in creation.

  ‘Trees maybe,’ I tell him. ‘Huts. But I can’t climb halfway up the escarpment.’

  ‘Say you did climb. What do you think’s going to happen?’

  ‘I’m not even answering that because there’s no way I would climb the escarpment.’

  ‘Really? Why not?’

  ‘Um, okay. I could fall backwards and smash my head open on the rocks. How’s that for a reason?’

  ‘Shouldn’t matter though,’ he says, half to himself.

  ‘What in creation are you talking about? Smashing my head open on the rocks would matter a whole lot to me!’

  There’s the sound of rippling water as Blaze goes on skimming.

  ‘If you fell, you’d go beyond. Beyond’s even better than here.’

  There’s this moment when everything goes quiet between us.

  Until Blaze adds, ‘Supposedly.’

  When we fell from the sky, every one of us had a bag slung over our shoulders. Silver, drawstring, with everything we need inside it. By ‘everything we need’, I mostly mean our capsules and the Books of Dot. The Books are thin and square with a screen that lights up when you touch it. They’re how we found out the way Dot wants us to be.

  In the Book of the Everyday, there’s all the practical stuff like which hut each of us should sleep in, who does which chores on what days and what to eat and everything. (It’s pretty easy to remember: we can eat everything in the orchard but never, ever the newfruit in the grove.)

  In the Book of Contribution, there’s heaps more about newfruit, how special and important they are to Dot and how we can say thanks for creating us by picking them for her.

  And the Book of the Beyond? That tells us the way life’s going to be after we leave where we are right now. No-one’s actually gone beyond yet, obviously.

  Creation began with a hundred of us, and we’re still all here now. But it’s not going to be that way forever. One day, every one of us will take a one-way trip beyond the fringe of trees. That’s for certain. It’s written right there in the Book of the Beyond (Chapter 64,Verse 3).

  It’s just, when it comes to the actual details of the beyond, Chapter 64’s sort of hazy. Me and Fern have spent ages talking about it, by which I mean Fern’s dreamt up a whole lot of detail and I’ve just sort of listened.

  According to Fern, going beyond’s a whole big process. First up, you’d lift off the ground and soar through the air until you reached the fringe. It’d be cool in there and the air would smell all sweet and moist and mossy. You’d keep on soaring until you burst through the other side of the fringe and shoot up into the air. That’s where Dot would be, in the beyond, waiting for you with her arms open. Behind her there’d be a double rainbow and an entire field of daffodils and you’d hear dottracks playing. Dot would smile and this total bliss-wave would break over your head and wash down to your toes and you’d know that you were home forever.

  That’s Fern’s theory, anyway.

  So now I tell Blaze, ‘Just because the beyond is superawesome doesn’t mean we can act all presafe. Dot chooses when we go beyond, not us.’

  ‘Right.’

  There’s this long, long silence and I start thinking the conversation’s over.

  Then Blaze goes, ‘You believe that?’

  For some reason, the sound of everyone else splashing and laughing kind of fades away. It’s only Blaze I can hear. In that moment, it’s like there’s only me and him in all of creation.

  ‘Believe what?’

  ‘Believe in going beyond.’

  I hear the jagged sound of my own laughter, even though nothing’s even remotely funny. My voice seems to come out at half its normal speed, all stretched and everything. Around me, the colours and shapes of the lagoon begin to merge and blend. This blurring thing has happened to me before, but this time’s definitely the worst.

  Still, I manage to tell Blaze, ‘Obviously I believe it.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Pause.

  ‘Because I’ve noticed stuff about you.’

  Inside my mouth, my tongue feels all giant and thick and furry. I get the prenormal sense that my entire head is expanding. It isn’t, though. I have to keep on telling myself it totally, completely, utterly isn’t.

  It only feels that way because I’m all precalm. And that would be because I’ve started wondering if there’s any possible way Blaze knows about the stuff that’s been happening to me recently. Stuff like the blurring, yes. But also the clammy skin and trembly hands. The things I keep asking Dot to stop.

  ‘I so don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  He nods. Not a yes nod, though. A nod that’s really saying, I think you do.

  ‘Oh, so now you’re Dot?’ I joke, reminding myself he couldn’t possibly know about the eyes and the trembling.

  It’s not like I’ve shown anyone or told anyone, so how could he? ‘You know everything about me, just like she does?’

  His only answer is a shrug. He stands up, shakes himself off and gets ready to walk away. Typical Blaze. He’s so serious all the time, always way too busy thinking for jokes or fun.

  ‘How about this? Did you know this was going to happen?’

  And I do Jasper’s thing to Blaze. I curl my foot around his ankle then suddenly jerk it so Blaze’s thrown off-balance.

  Blaze doesn’t even smile. If you want to know, he pulls away like my foot is superheated or something.

  If it wasn’t for the Book of Acceptance, I’m guessing the two of us would be keeping our distance from now on. For sure I would be, especially now Blaze’s come out with all this prenormal stuff about jumping from the escarpment and noticing stuff and going beyond.

  But Chapter 2,Verse 1, says Dot makes all creations different and we should accept everyone for who they are.

  So, nice and casual, I say, ‘Okay. If you’re not coming in, I’ll see you later, I guess.’

  I walk off, and even though I don’t turn around, I can kind of tell Blaze is watching me the entire time.

  03

  THE THREE ROCKS ne
xt to the pools aren’t even big or anything, definitely not presafe. Plus, I climb them practically every single day. So I’m not expecting anything different or special this time. I mean, why would I? My hands find the holds I always use, sun-warmed chunks of rock that are just as sturdy today as they were when Dot created them. I hoist myself off the ground, my toes curling into a crevice Dot put at the exact right spot for the length of my legs. Five or six more moves and I’m practically at the top of the first rock, closest to the edge of the lagoon.

  This huge whoo-hoo! goes up from everyone down in the water. A jump from the very top of the rocks makes the best splash, and that’s pretty much what everyone’s expecting.

  Fern is looking at me, shading her eyes. Gil’s watching too, and Jasper’s calling out my name, which is kind of funny. It’s not like I need anyone to remind me who I am. I’m the same as I’ve always been. I’m Wren with the wavy hair that’s sort of red and sort of brown. Wren who’s good at climbing. Wren who loves Dot and every creation, the same way they love me.

  So I can’t figure out why I’m not just finishing the climb and jumping off the rocks right now. That’s how I always do it. I’ve climbed these rocks heaps of times since I was created and never once have I stopped to think about what I’m doing.

  Except for now. Today, there’s a wild kind of feeling surging through me. A squeezing sensation in my stomach. My fingers are curled around two jutting bits of rock and my toes are all white from hanging on so hard. And suddenly, it’s like all creation’s a million shades brighter.

  ‘Wre-en! Wre-eeeeen!’

  Everyone in the lagoon seems to be calling out my name. Gil, Jasper, Luna, all of them. They just want me to jump and splash the way I always do.

  Only I can’t. I’m literally stuck here on this rock. There’s this picture inside my head, one that definitely wasn’t there before I spoke to Blaze. It’s me, sprawled on the rocks with my head caved in, blood pooling around my body.

  I look down. Blaze has stopped walking away. In fact, he’s completely still, staring up at me, as frozen as I am. And right in that moment, I think maybe Blaze saw on my face something I wasn’t even aware I was thinking until now.

  Dot only knows how, but he was right just before. I always thought going beyond was what creations did. Only now I know he’s questioning it, I realise I am too.

  I could let go of the rock, I realise, let myself tumble end over end down to the ground. Quicker than a butterfly flutters its wings, I’d be meeting Dot the exact way me and Fern always talked about.

  How superthrilling would that be? Or should be, anyway. But now it could be real, there’s suddenly a whole lot of other stuff flashing into my head. All prenormal thoughts. Is it possible that I would soar off the ground and go beyond if my head was split open? Would I meet Dot? Could that actually happen? Really and truly?

  I can still hear the others calling my name from the lagoon. Creations are begging me to jump. A whistle splits the air but it’s long and low and warped, just like before when me and Blaze were talking.

  And over the top of all that, I think I hear Blaze and that voice of his, all low and soft.

  ‘You’re okay,’ he says. Over and over again, just ‘You’re okay’ and ‘Hang on’.

  Blaze walks towards the three jutting rocks. He holds out a hand to help me down.

  But I don’t take it, because it’s right then that I manage to unstick myself. I release one hand from the rockface, wipe it on my sungarb and stretch my cramping fingers. Then I swing my way to the top of the rock, easily. My bare feet slide into a crack, one on top of the other and I know I’m going to jump and everything’s going to be normal, the way it always has been.

  The wind catches my hair and whips these long ropes all over my face. I raise both arms up to Dot out there beyond the fringe. I tip my head upwards too. I open my mouth and out comes this huge whooping sound.

  The whole lagoon yells back because I guess they’re as happy as I am right now. I’m Wren, Wren who believes in the Books exactly like she should.

  That churning feeling before, it’s completely disappeared. I mean, if I go beyond, I’m obviously going to meet Dot. How else could it possibly be?

  At the base of the rocks, Blaze still has his arm out to me.

  ‘I’m all good,’ I tell him, this huge smile on my face. ‘I’m jumping!’

  In front of me, the lagoon’s all perfect and clear, fresh and crisp and dotly. I spread my arms wide. I bend my knees. Then I do it.

  I jump. I swear, right then, my entire body’s ringing with a love for Dot that’s so powerful, I honestly feel like I’m flying.

  04

  OUR HUTS ARE right at the opposite end of the lagoon. Like

  I said, Dot’s creation is huge. It’s one gigantic rectangle that feels even bigger in the prelight, which is what it is now the day’s pretty much over. To get back to the huts from the lagoon, you have to pass the gazebo and the newfruit grove and everything else in creation too. The orchard’s the one thing that lies beyond the huts, that and the fringe of trees.

  So it kind of figures that Fern’s practically collapsing after such a long walk.

  ‘Come up,’ Gil says when me and Fern finally make it back.

  That’s always how it is when Gil invites you somewhere. As in, he never puts it to you like a question. Gil’s on the balcony of his hut with Brook. They’re superclose friends, the two of them. You pretty much never see Gil without Brook by his side.

  Anyway, I figure why not hang out with them? What else are me and Fern going to do except go to bed? So I head up Gil’s stairs to the balcony, with Fern behind me.

  Gil’s hut is the same as everyone else’s. Square, with stilts and a peaked wooden roof with a design of butterflies carved into it. The shutters have the same butterfly design, made out of these tiny little holes in the wood. There’s a balcony all the way across the front of each one, which is where Gil and Brook are sitting, a whole pile of fruit from the orchard on the table between them. Every type in creation, pretty much, apart from newfruit, obviously. Blood oranges, apricots, cherries, lychees, these fat, fuzzy golden raspberries and a pomegranate, torn open and spilling its seeds. There are even coconuts, which means Brook must have cut them down with the big knife nailed to one of the trees. Brook always likes to be in charge of the knife.

  I grab a wedge of watermelon from the table and plonk down on Gil’s stairs. Fern settles into a hammock. We don’t get to sit there long before Gil tells us he has an idea. Before he’ll say what it is though, he waits, scooping hair out of his eyes and everything, until he’s sure we’re all totally and utterly listening to him and no-one else.

  Did I mention Gil’s hair? It’s shoulder-length, obviously, and blond. Not a yellow-blond the way Fern’s is, or golden like Jasper’s. Gil’s is practically white and it’s soft and flossy. Every creation’s good-looking, like it says in the Book of Beauty, Chapter 1, Verse 1. But on top of that, I guess you’d call Gil striking. Or unusual, maybe. With his kinked nose and long fingers, he stands out from the rest of us, that’s for sure.

  ‘We’re having a bonfire,’ he announces.

  Fern yawns. ‘As long as I get to sleep next to it.’

  I spit out a watermelon pip, aiming for Jasper’s balcony but hitting Blaze’s instead. Blaze’s hut is just across the path from Gil’s. In the orange light from the torches that line the path, I can see the shape of Blaze. He’s out on his balcony in his own hammock, his Books lit up and resting on his chest. Asleep, I’m guessing.

  ‘Brook?’ Gil says.

  And like Gil’s directly asked him something, even though he completely hasn’t, Brook gets up, brushing past me as he heads down the stairs. He disappears down the path, past my hut and past Fern’s. Past Luna’s and Jasper’s and Sage’s as well, until he gets to the empty huts and I can’t see him anymore.

  There are more empty huts than there are full. Hundreds of them, wardrobes stocked with teeny-tiny sungarb and
the beds already made. Dot only knows why. At first, we all looked in them a lot but now no-one really bothers. An empty hut just isn’t that fun compared to everything else there is to do.

  I ping a few more watermelon seeds in the direction of Jasper’s hut. His door doesn’t open so I guess he’s inside hooking up. It’s not like him to go to bed early for any other reason. But not every single seed hits Jasper’s balcony. Some of them hit Blaze’s again and after a while he opens one eye, looks up at us and switches off his Books. I guess he’s coming over.

  When Brook gets back Gil meets him at the bottom of the stairs and takes the firewood he’s collected. Without anyone saying so, it’s just obvious Brook will be the one to get the fire going, and also that Gil’s going to tell him exactly how to do it.

  First off, Gil gets Brook building a pyramid of twigs right by the bottom of the stairs. Then he says to add the bigger branches and everything. When Brook has just a single twig left, he sticks it into one of the torches burning nearby and gives it to Gil. Gil uses the twig to light the pyramid and pretty soon the fire’s really going, all toasty and warm and bright and everything.

  Fern must be too tired even to walk because once she’s out of the hammock she sits on the top step and bumps the whole way down on her butt. She sinks in front of the fire, not caring that the grass is kind of damp.

  I’m about to follow her when Gil takes something out of his pocket. Of all the random things in creation, it turns out to be a bird. Gil stands there with the bird cupped in both hands, its mangled wing sticking out at an angle. The bird isn’t exactly moving.

  ‘Where did you get that?’ I have to ask. Gil wants me to, it’s so obvious.

  ‘It flew into my shutters just before. Brook tried chasing it away but it kept on slamming itself until …’

  He smiles, snake-lips curving all over again. Then he brings his hands together over the top of the bird and there’s this crunching sound.