Violet

by Rae Thomas

  When I complete the card with my personal and residential information, I return it to the receptionist. This time, so she doesn’t find me apathetic, I try to make eye contact. She doesn’t notice. Without meeting my gaze, she seizes the card from my outstretched fingertips.

  “Massassi? That’s an unusual last name.” I’m not really sure what to say. After all, it’s just my name.

  Luckily, she doesn’t seem to be waiting for a response. She begins typing furiously on what I’m sure is a very outdated computer. While she verifies my information and retrieves the records from my previous academy, I resume my staring contest with the floor. I begin to feel that she has forgotten that I am waiting for her, or perhaps I am supposed to go somewhere else for the next stage of the registration process. I use the tip of my shoe to remove a scuff from the floor. I count three tiny insects crawling into her waste can. Just as I am about to shuffle away in search of someone who might acknowledge my presence, she very curtly clears her throat and I look up. This time, we make eye contact. Her greying blonde hair is sloppily pinned onto the top of her head, and when she speaks I note that several of her teeth have darkened with decay. She looks overworked, she looks exhausted, and she looks annoyed. At me.

  “Well, we can’t find your records. I swear, this new system they’ve got us using is awful. Half the time we register you kids, nothing comes up. Might as well just use the post if this is how it goes.” She gives an exaggerated sigh, and I feel that her frustration is centered on me.

  I quickly try to think of something to say, but only come up with, “Oh. Um…” and then I cough to fill the silence.

  She looks at me with narrowed eyes, as if it is my fault that her computer system is faulty. Then she softens a little and sighs. “Well, I guess we’ll get you started the old-fashioned way. You’ve taken The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths, yes? Where did you score?”

  “Oh, um. Well, uh, actually, no.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “As in, no, you have not taken The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths?”

  “Yes. I mean, yes, that’s correct. I have not taken The Gilbert Griffin Gra—”

  “That test is supposed to be taken by all Level Fives. I’d take you for a Level Seven. How many rotations are behind you?”

  “I’ve seen nine.”

  “Nine! You should have taken The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths before you saw your eighth! Nine! What in Cerno were they doing over there? Some regions are so disorganized.”

  And then, under her breath, she adds, “Region 227 better hope The Vox doesn’t decide to do a surprise audit. Then they’ll be in real trouble.”

  After a beat, I say, “I’ve been ill.”

  “Must have been some illness. Well, come on. We can’t put you in lessons before you’ve been placed.”

  She leads me down a set of stone steps. As we descend deeper into the building, the air grows stale and damp. Finally, we reach a doorway and she motions for me to enter. From the looks of it, it is an abandoned classroom now used to store student desks.

  “Sorry about the room. It gets kind of musty down here after a while. I just figured you wouldn’t want any other students to find out you haven’t been placed. You don’t want that getting around.”

  I nod in agreement, though unsure why anyone would care whether or not I’ve taken The Gilbert Grant… Mental… whatever she had called it.

  She begins walking back out the way we came, and says over her shoulder, “I’ll send someone down with your exam; I’m not certified to proctor.” A moment later, she pokes her head back in and adds, “Better try your best; you don’t want to get stuck with my job.” She rolls her eyes, and then leaves for good.

  Several minutes later, after I have become very acquainted with the number of stones on the front wall, a small, pudgy woman holding a stack of papers and a large red envelope enters the room. Her eyes are so dark that they seem almost to be empty holes in her head, and I cannot always discern whether she is looking directly at me or not. Unlike the receptionist, her uniform of white collared shirt and grey knee-length skirt is neatly pressed and creased to sharp edges. Also unlike the receptionist, she wears a nametag. Her name is Madam Fenley. She has obvious disdain for her current location, and does not endeavor to hide her irritation. I am so concentrated on her appearance and demeanor that I forget myself, and I am startled when she narrows her eyes and says, “I’m sure you have seen enough rotations to know that you should stand when a superior enters the room.”

  I move quickly to obey her, but I fail to remember that my legs have been crossed, and so I stumble as I stand up, but I am able to steady myself by placing my hand on the dusty desk beside me. Madam Fenley takes in my attempt at respect with a drawn upper lip and an expression of obvious disgust. She scoffs as she says, “You may be seated.”

  As she walks toward my desk, she separates her stack so she holds the papers in one hand and the envelope in the other. She then places the envelope on my desk, and as she does so, says, “Let’s get started, shall we? Though I’m sure it won’t take you very long. A student from a region without enough pride and decorum to administer The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths in the appropriate time frame will certainly not have the aptitude to complete it.” She then smiles disdainfully and turns on her heel to return to the front of the room.

  “My name is Madam Fenley. You may call me Madam Fenley. However, if you call me during the exam, I will not answer. I suggest that you ask me any necessary questions before the exam begins. Talking for any reason whatsoever is not permitted. During the exam, you will not be permitted to leave the room for any reason. Don’t even ask. If you attempt to communicate with me, your test will be deemed invalid, and you will be given another version to complete from start to finish. Do you understand these regulations?”

  I nod in agreement, but when she narrows her eyes and purses her lips, I add, “Yes, Madam Fenley.”

  “All right, then. Let’s begin. Please break the seal on your envelope. Remove the electronic tablet from its casing and verify that it powers on and that the cell has a full charge. Be sure that the charge is complete. If it is not, and your tablet powers down before you have completed the test, your exam will be deemed invalid and you will be given another version to complete from start to finish. Is your tablet in working order?”

  I flip the power switch on my tablet, and the black screen immediately lights up with a bright red. The cell icon in the corner gives a 100 percent charge. “Yes, Madam Fenley.”

  “All right. Now enter your student identification code when the screen prompts you.”

  “Student identification code? I don’t have that… I don’t know what that is.”

  Madam Fenley groans and drops her head. Apparently, I am a lost cause.

  “It’s on your envelope.”

  I enter the code, and then meet her gaze, signaling that I am ready to move on.

  “Finally. Now put your tablet aside and listen as I introduce the exam.”

  I place the tablet next to the red envelope as Madam Fenley raises the papers in her hand and begins to read:

  “The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths is an exam created to test not only a student’s current knowledge in the academic areas of Exposition, Reading Comprehension, Scientific Acuity, and Mathematics, but also the aptitude, that is, the potential of said student in areas of Logic and Reasoning as well as Problem Solving. Upon completion of The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths and based on the student’s perceived skill level, mental capacity, and propensity for learning, the student will be placed on one of three career tracks. The first of these tracks is Tradesmen. Male and female students selected as
tradesmen will be assigned as apprentices to necessary trades based on aptitude in said field. The second track is Military. Students who display an above-average understanding of the necessity of obedience, capacity for combat, and mental capability for strategy of war will become members of The Vox, assigned rank by score. The final track is Academia. This track is for students who have an above-average ability to absorb and translate knowledge into applicable skills. These students will continue their levels until being assigned academic careers by aptitude in either Education, Medicine, or Research. The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths was created by Gilbert Griffin Graham, great-great-great-grandson of one of the esteemed founders of the planet Cerno, Gregory Gallagher Graham. Gilbert Griffin Graham created The Gilbert Griffin Graham Mental Aptitude Examination for Appropriate Placement of Youths as a way to streamline the well-oiled machine that is our society here on Cerno. With this in mind, do your best, but know that you cannot perform above your natural aptitude, and will be placed accordingly.”

  I do not know how long it takes Madam Fenley to read these words. The minutes crawl by. Entire rotations could be passing outside for all I could guess. Finally, she stops reading, meets my eyes and says, “You may begin.”

  My exam is evaluated within moments of completion, and my placement is as I knew it would be. Academia. My father is a scientist. He places great value on knowledge, as do I. I return to the receptionist, who regards my score with a wink and a smile. She enters my information into the computer and a schedule is generated. Mostly mathematics and science lessons, but my first lesson is History with Madam Aldine, and it is already more than halfway over.

  “You better rush, Violet. Madam Aldine doesn’t like when students are late.” With this, the receptionist pushes a map and schedule into my hand, turns me around, and lightly nudges me toward the door.

  I follow my map across the courtyard of dew-covered grass to a similarly ominous stone building. When I approach the door of Madam Aldine’s room, I make eye contact with a boy about my age, sitting in the back of the room. I stop. Thick, dark brown hair, perfectly mussed, wearing a black shirt with black pants and black boots. As he looks at me, his eyes widen and his golden skin begins to drain of color. He shakes his head and mouths the words, “Don’t come in,” as he points toward the front of the room. I freeze, unsure of what to do. I begin very slowly to back away from the door as I hear someone say, “David. What are you looking at?”

  The disembodied voice that I hear sounds very stern. Very… unforgiving. He breaks eye contact with me and jerks his head toward the voice. “Nothing, Madam Aldine, I’m just… trying to visualize this essay.” He shoots her a charming smile. It doesn’t work.

  “We are not visualizing, young man, we are composing. If you want to waste time daydreaming then I suggest you do it somewhere else because it certainly will not be tolerated here. Do you understand that, or do you need to spend a little more time thinking about it? Perhaps begin an apprenticeship? Or maybe some work in the mines?”

  “No, Madam Aldine.”

  “Then get back to work.”

  David tilts his head toward his desk, but looks up at me and winks. As I turn to go, my dew-soaked shoe betrays me with a squeak, and before I can escape, she is standing in the doorway. This woman could benefit from a larger doorway. Her head is barely an inch away from the top, and her large frame all but fills the entire space. She is not fat, just very, very large. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and it seems that her face is caught in a permanent scowl. I feel like a criminal. Or perhaps an animal in a hunter’s trap.

  “Who are you, young lady? Or, perhaps a better question, why do you find it necessary to enter an institute of learning for the sole purpose of distracting my students? Where are you supposed to be?” And then she narrows her eyes even more. “Are you defecting?”

  I hear the collective gasp of all of the students in the classroom behind her, and then silence as they await the answers to her questions. When I finally find my voice, it is barely audible.

  “Violet. I’m here to—”

  “Speak up. If you want to disrupt my lesson and waste my time, you could at least have the common courtesy to speak so that I can hear you.”

  I raise my voice. “My name is Violet. I’m to be in your first lesson.”

  “Oh. Your name is Violet. You’re to be in my first lesson. Well then, Violet, let me ask you a question. If you are to be in my first lesson, why are you not in my first lesson? So far, you have only stood outside and made faces at students in my first lesson.”

  “I had to take The Gi—” I stop myself as I remember the receptionist’s words. You don’t want that getting around…

  “I arrived late. I have only recently relocated.”

  She snorts, and then says, “Have a seat, Violet.”

  As she walks away, she turns around, catches me with her cold gaze, and says, “Please remember that next time I will not be so forgiving.”

  * * *

  When the bell rings, I rush toward the door. I have the vague impression that others are looking at me, but I do not stop to introduce myself. I steer around slow-walking classmates and make a break for the exterior door that will lead me back to the courtyard. As soon as I cross the threshold and step into the sun, I feel an immediate sense of relief. I tilt my face toward the sky and attempt to steady my haggard breaths. Attempt to slow my pounding pulse. After so long trying to remember, it is an odd sensation, hoping to forget. What I would give for the opportunity to go back in time and relive this day. Knowing how it would go, I might decide never to begin my lessons here in Eligo. I might choose to stay at home with my father. No, perhaps not. I would certainly choose not to go to Madam Aldine’s lesson, though. So much for trying to blend in. I can hardly bear the prospect of attending another class. Surely word of the new student reamed by Madam Aldine will be getting around. I can already see the smirks. I can already hear the muffled laughter.

  I open my eyes just in time to see a darkly clothed figure approaching. Now he’s close enough and I can see that it’s the classmate who tried to help me. Didn’t Madam Aldine say his name is David? We make eye contact and he smiles. For a moment, I’m frozen, caught in the sheer brilliance of that smile. For a moment, it’s as if another smile has never happened. Like that smile has never been given to anyone else. I shake my head to clear these absurd thoughts, but now I’ve wasted too much time and he’s too close now. Talking to him is absolutely out of the question, so I don’t have much choice but to turn on my heel and begin walking briskly in the opposite direction. Nevermind that I’m now walking away from my next class.

  I keep walking and in a few moments breathe a sigh of relief at having evaded him. My relief is short-lived, however, when I hear bounding steps approaching behind me. He crosses in front of me, saying, “Come on, I may not be the best looking guy at Nineteen, but I’ve never had a girl run away before.” I’m caught by that smile again. I have no idea how to respond.

  “Oh, no, I, uh… I wasn’t running from you—well, I was, but not because you’re—” Now he’s laughing. Of course he wasn’t serious.

  He holds his hand out and says, “I’m David. Your name is Violet, right?”

  “Yes, I’m Violet.” I place my hand in his, noting the dark tan color of his skin, the roughness of his palms; his grip is firm, but he holds my hand gently, as if he might break it. He must do a lot of outdoor labor. Though I had assumed that most students follow their parents as far as job placement goes, the placement exam must ensure that students with unique aptitudes are placed accordingly.

  “Look, Violet, don’t worry about Madam Aldine; she’s always like that. I hope you’re not embarrassed. Everyone knows her temper.”

  I’m still embarrassed, but a little relieved. At least he’s attempting to comfort me. Before I can respond, we’re approached by a group of three girls who seem to be about our age. The girl in the middle
stands a little in front of the other two. Her hair is long and very light, but she has dark eyebrows and thickly lashed green eyes. She is stunning, and clearly the leader of this little group. The other two are attractive in a common way; they stand closely behind her, almost as if they wish to absorb a little of her radiance. I watch their eyes travel from my face to my feet and back up again, evaluating my appearance. They do not bother to speak to me. The beauty’s attention is trained on David. She is the first to speak. “Hey, David.” Her smile is almost as brilliant as his.

  “Oh, hey, Annabelle. How’s my favorite Council member?”

  Her laugh is musical. She reaches out and touches his arm playfully. “Oh, David, you know the new Council members haven’t been appointed yet.”

  He leans in toward her. “Come on, you’re a definite successor. How could they not choose you?”

  She laughs again. “You know, I think you’re right.”

  I am not sure if she’s making a joke, or just very sure of herself.

  David turns his attention toward Annabelle’s companions. “And how are you lovely ladies? Did you enjoy our first lesson?”

  The girl to Annabelle’s left raises an eyebrow and nods in my direction, saying, “Well, it was certainly… entertaining.”

  The three girls laugh and I consider fleeing. I must be blushing. I look down at the ground to avoid their faces. Annabelle places a hand on my shoulder and I look back up. She has a pitying look on her face when she asks, “Violet, yes?” I nod. “Don’t worry about it, Violet. Madam Aldine always picks on people who seem weak.”

  Her expression does not change, though the girls behind her smirk. I am not sure if she intends to insult me or if she has just done a poor job of consoling me. After a beat, she turns back toward David, smiles, and says, “Well, we’re off. See you later, David.”

  I cannot help but watch them go. When they’re gone, I turn toward David and—avoiding eye contact—mumble, “I have to go.”