by Ruth White
Mom scans the Chroma years only briefly before going to America. Wheat fields, wild horses, summer rains, and sea mists appear and make themselves real to us. The Gilmores laugh and cry as they experience almost firsthand the beauty and bittersweetness we have captured in the Log. At midnight, to signify the end, a golden retriever nudges us with his cold nose.
Colin reaches out, trying to hold on to it. “Oh, please play it again,” he whispers.
“There’ll be time later,” Mom tells him.
“Not for me,” Colin says sadly.
“What do you mean?” Mom asks.
“My time has run out,” Colin says. “I have to go to war tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” I gasp as tears spring to my eyes. “You didn’t say a word.”
“I didn’t want any sappy goodbyes,” Colin says.
Mom speaks up. “But don’t you see, Colin? Now you won’t have to go!”
“How do you figure that?” Colin says, but there’s hope in his voice.
“The Carriage,” Mom says. “We can leave here in it.”
“Will it hold us all?” Gil asks.
“It will hold two thousand pounds,” Mom informs him. “And all of us together don’t come close to that. We will, however, be crowded.”
“But I’m scheduled to go in the morning,” Colin says. “They’ll come looking for me if I don’t report.”
“You will leave this place with us, son,” Gil says as he places a hand on Colin’s shoulder. “I promise.”
“What about Gramps?” I ask.
“We still have to find out where Farlands is,” Mom says.
“I know it’s on a coast,” Gil tells us then. “That’s all I know. I don’t see how I can find out more before tomorrow night.”
“I know.” Jennifer speaks up, and I realize she hasn’t said anything all evening.
“You know?” Her dad is incredulous. “How could you possibly know?”
“Mom gave me a book before they took her away,” Jennifer says in a very soft voice. “It has maps in it.”
• 31 •
David Speaks
The six of us crouch together on my bathroom floor with a burning candle. We picked this room because it has no windows and our light can’t be seen. Outside, a storm has risen, and the wind shrieks like a lost spirit. Jennifer’s mother’s book lies open before us.
“Mom made me promise,” Jennifer explains to us, “never to show this book to anyone until I felt the time was right. I didn’t know what she meant then, but now I do. I think the time is right now.”
Gil hugs his daughter. “You did good.”
“And do you forgive me,” Jennifer says to Meggie, her voice a pitiful little whisper, “for forgetting to tell you about the wiretap?”
Meggie hugs Jennifer. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
So everybody’s hugging Jennifer. Will I ever get a turn too?
We can’t all hover over the book at the same time without blotting out the candlelight, so we take turns reading aloud to each other.
The title is Land of the Fathers. No author is named, but it’s a treasure chest of information.
“I think it was written by somebody in the Resistance,” Mom says, “because it tells it like it is.”
The book tells us that the Land of the Fathers is completely controlled by big-money interests.
“ ‘Once there was legitimate oversight,’ ” Gil reads.
“That means it was like America,” Mom explains to the Gilmores. “There was a body of lawmakers who worked for the people.”
“ ‘But,’ ” Gil reads on, “ ‘its leaders became corrupted with greed and betrayed the citizens. They took bribes and contributions from those who wished to influence their decisions. Gradually the people’s government fell under the complete control of large corporations. Then the true role of leadership was forgotten, and the Fathers, shrewd businessmen, made the laws of the land to suit their own greedy purposes.’ ”
The color-coded maps show us that Fashion City stands near the spot where Missouri is located in the United States of America. The western half of the country is green and is marked as the Western Province. Fashion City borders it. That’s probably why Officer Brent took it for granted that we came from there.
“Look at this purple strip down the east coast,” Mom points out. “It’s where the Fathers live. They have all the coastal property.”
Inland from the purple strip is a brown mass representing the industrial cities. There are more than a dozen of them, each one manufacturing a different product.
The Western Province, we’re informed, is a beautiful place, still partly wild, where animals roam freely and the people try to live in harmony with nature. The families build their own homes, choose their own livelihood, and coexist peacefully with the red natives of the land. Their government is a democracy, operating within the framework of a robust constitution. The powers of government are balanced among three branches.
Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Jr., and the Suquamish tribal chief Seattle hold equal positions in the executive branch. The legislative and judicial branches are similar to those in the United States.
“Sounds utopian,” Mom muses out loud. “So I wonder why people escape there to come here?”
We also find that answer in the book. Fewer than two hundred people have actually returned to the Land of the Fathers in all the years since the insurrection, we read. At the beginning the returnees were the ones afflicted with a condition somewhat like gross vacillation, because they were so indoctrinated by the Fathers they couldn’t adjust to the freedom in their new society. As a result, they could no longer make decisions for themselves and felt insecure without forced regimen and discipline. In more recent years there has been only a small trickle of refugees who are unhappy with the government of the Western Province.
“Malcontents, unhappy with their leaders,” Mom explains. “Even in America we had our protesters, and some of them left the country. But I’m quite sure that those people who come to the industrial cities from the Western Province, believing things will be better for them, are completely ignorant of the facts, or they have been misled in some way by outside agitators, perhaps working for the Fathers.”
“The people there speak English,” Meggie says.
“And they have a constitution like the one in the United States,” I say.
“I’ll bet they have no unnecessary wars,” Colin says, “and they have animals.”
“With Chief Seattle as one of the three in charge, they probably have strong environmental standards,” Mom adds.
“Fill us in on Chief Seattle,” says Gil.
“In our world he was a famous chief of one of the native tribes,” Mom explains. “He’s best known for a letter he wrote to the U.S. president regarding the relationship between the land and the people. It was quite moving. I understand there’s some controversy about whether or not he actually wrote that letter, but you know what? We just might get a chance to ask him.”
We all look at Mom’s glowing face in the candlelight. A streak of blue is beginning to radiate at the crown of her head.
“So can we go there,” Meggie whispers excitedly, “instead of going to Tranquility?”
“Yes, let’s go there.” Mom is also excited. “I have a strong suspicion the Western Province is like early America. What do you think, Gil?”
Gil looks at Jennifer and Colin, then turns back to Mom. “I think we’re going to trust you to make that decision. You have studied these things, and you seem to know what you’re talking about.”
“Look!” Meggie cries suddenly. “Down here is Farlands on this long peninsula. It’s colored purple. Farlands is Florida!”
“Florida!” Mom exclaims. “So that’s where he is! But in what part of Florida, I wonder?”
We find close-up maps of the tip end of Farlands. There are also photographs of buildings grouped into a large complex located near the beach. Here the official busin
ess of the Fathers is conducted. One building is marked Vacation 65, and it’s the grand hotel we saw on The Family Hour. In spite of its fancy exterior, this building, we read, is used for all executions. The climate and the nearness of the ocean have a calming effect on the condemned, so they’re less inclined to fight back.
“If we knew what room he’s in,” Mom says, “we could aim the Carriage for it, land beside his bed, pick him up, and take off again in a few minutes.”
“Getting his room number will definitely be difficult,” Gil says.
“But not impossible!” Mom declares with determination. “Nothing is impossible, if we set our minds and hearts to the task.”
At the end of Mrs. Gilmore’s book we find added information written in her small, neat handwriting. It’s a list of people who might help us. By each name she has added notes detailing how that person might contribute.
Lewis Jones, she has written, is my cousin, and he works in the execution building in Farlands. Sometimes he’s sympathetic to our cause. I think he can be trusted, but I’m not sure.
“I knew Lewis when we were younger,” Gil says. “I’ve often wondered what happened to him. So here he is with Vacation 65.”
“Do you know how to contact him?” Mom says. “Perhaps he could tell you which room Gramps is in.”
“I could phone him there,” Gil says. “I’m allowed work-related long-distance calls from the TV station. I’ll pretend to ask him something to do with work.”
“Oh, could you, Gil? Would you?”
“Of course,” Gil says. “But what excuse can I use for wanting to know the room number?”
“We’ll think of something,” Mom says in a weary voice.
It’s three o’clock in the morning as we wrap up our clandestine meeting in the bathroom.
“You kids go straight to bed,” Mom says.
Although exhausted, I can’t sleep, and for a long time I lie awake listening. I can hear Meggie in her room, tossing and mumbling in her sleep, and Mom and Gil are whispering together in the hallway, working out details. For the first time I sense that Jennifer’s dad is something more than a programmed robot. Away from Fashion City he might even turn out to be a real human being.
• 32 •
Back to Meggie
The next morning when David and I wake up late, we find that Mom has gone to work as usual. I hurry upstairs to see Jennifer and find that Gil is gone also. Colin is nowhere to be seen.
“Did he run away,” I whisper to Jennifer, “or did he go to the military?”
“Dad hid him somewhere,” Jennifer also whispers. “But I don’t know where.”
I’m alarmed. “Suppose the police search your apartment! You know Tom would tell them we’re friends, so they’ll search our place too, and find the Carriage!”
“Don’t worry. We’ve worked out a plan to prevent them from coming here. I have to call the military police at ten o’clock and put on a big act,” Jennifer says. “Dad’s orders.”
“What kind of act?”
“I’m going to pretend to know where he’s hiding and turn him in. People here rat on each other all the time, even their own family members. They’re rewarded for it.”
“Rewarded how?”
“In different ways. If I really turned Colin in, I could maybe get one of the jobs with the factory day care and be exempt from the military. Or I could get a bicycle, or money. Adults get things like days off from work, even automobiles if the information is considered really important.”
So that would explain why Kitty’s grandfather turned her in for black-market dealing. He was somehow rewarded for it.
“Bummer,” I say. “But you’re only pretending?”
“Of course! I truly don’t know where he is, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell for anything in the world.”
I help Jennifer go over what she’ll say to the military police, and at ten o’clock she makes the call. First she gives her name and address.
“I’m calling about my brother, Colin Gilmore,” she tells them. “He was supposed to report for military duty this morning, but instead he ran off to hide, and I just happen to know where he’s hiding. Can I get a bicycle for telling?” She sounds exactly like the rotten kid sister who squeals on her brother all the time.
She listens.
“Oh, you have to find him before I get my reward? Okay. Well, I know he’s either on a train or on a bus. Just before he left, he told me he’s been saving tokens for over a year, and I found out later he also stole my tokens and Dad’s. He plans to keep switching trains and buses all day long until they stop running. Then he’s going to hide in whatever station he finds himself in at dark, and do the same thing tomorrow.”
Jennifer pauses for her listener to speak.
“What’s he going to do when he runs out of tokens? I don’t know. He’s not very bright. Maybe he didn’t think of that.”
Jennifer gives me a nervous smile; then her voice becomes whiny. “You know what that creep did to me? He took all the groceries we had in the house. Can you imagine? I don’t even have anything to eat. So I hope you find him.”
She pauses again.
“You betcha! Now go get him! And praise the Fathers!” She hangs up the phone and says to me, “Hopefully they’ll be searching the transportation system all day.” She twists her hands together nervously. “A Lotus sure would make me feel better.”
“Oh, Jennifer, you don’t need those things!”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway,” she says, “because Dad flushed all we had down the john, and nearly stopped it up.”
“If it’s yellow, let it mellow,” I squeal happily, “but if it’s brown, flush it down, and if it’s blue, plunge it through!”
Now we are giddy with excitement. We eat breakfast together and chat about our possible future.
At one o’clock I go to my room as usual and turn on the TV to watch my class. The Carriage stands in the middle of the room, more than halfway restored. It’ll be ready for flight tonight at ten o’clock. Then it occurs to me that tomorrow we’ll be gone, so why bother doing my lessons? Why indeed, as David would say. I step inside the Carriage, turn on the computer, and pull up the tutorial, which I study for the next hour.
When Mom and Gil come home from work, we all meet in our apartment.
“Did you do it?” Gil says to Jennifer.
“Yes, at ten, as promised.”
“And the police haven’t been around?”
“No.”
“She’s totally good at lying,” I tease. “She nearly had me convinced.”
“Where’s Colin?” Jennifer whispers.
“He’s safe” is all Gil will say.
“So did you find out what room Gramps is in?” David asks.
Gil’s face falls. “Wouldn’t you know, this is the one day of the season when Lewis is on holiday. So I couldn’t get in touch with him.”
Mom collapses onto the couch. “Oh, no.”
“I’m sorry,” Gil says. “I did my best. I even tried to talk to somebody else there. I told him I was helping with a TV special about Vacation 65. Of course, that’s not part of my job, but I was hoping that whoever was listening in didn’t know any better. Anyway, the guy I talked to couldn’t care less. He was grumpy and hung up on me. I was afraid to be a nuisance and draw too much attention to myself.”
“But will Lewis be back to work tomorrow?” Mom asks.
“Yes, and I left a message that I would call him again in the morning.”
“Well, I guess that’s the best we can do,” Mom says.
“I’ll call early,” Gil says, “and one way or another, I’ll get that room number. I promise.”
He sits down beside Mom and she pats his hand. “You’re doing fine.” Then she turns to me, David, and Jennifer. “So, kids, I’m afraid this means we can’t leave tonight.”
“But tonight is Gramps’s second night,” David says with a worried look on his face.
“I know, I know,�
� Mom says. “And that gives us only one more night, but I don’t know what else to do. Gil will get the room number tomorrow, and we can leave as soon as we get home from work. We don’t have to wait until night.”
“And Colin will have to stay hidden another day,” Gil says.
Which will increase the danger of his being caught, we are thinking, but nobody says it. Mom will have to do that stupid job another day. But none of it can be helped.
We each pack up the few things we’ll be taking with us. Timidly Gil asks Mom if he can possibly, maybe, you know, take his guitar?
And Mom replies, “Of course! How can we sing without a guitar?”
The next day Jennifer, David, and I are on pins and needles about a possible visit from the military police in search of Colin, but at five minutes before one o’clock they haven’t come or called. We can only hope they’re still focusing on the trains and buses.
The three of us are standing in the bedroom, admiring the Carriage, now fully restored, when David says, “Why bother with lessons today? Let’s play hooky.”
That’s when I recall that I didn’t do my schoolwork yesterday. What if …?
At that moment the doorbell rings, and my heart skips a beat. Jennifer and David go out to answer the ring. I close the bedroom door and lean against it, breathlessly waiting for what I hope will not come. But it does.
David pounds on my door. “Meggie, your tutor is here!”
• 33 •
Oh, no, no, no. The dreaded tutor.
“Come on out here where you normally do your lessons!” David calls in a very loud voice. “You know you always do your schoolwork in the living room.”
I grab school supplies, and as I slip out my bedroom door, David slips in. He rolls his eyes toward the living room, then locks himself in with the Carriage.
