Vagabond

by Brewer, J. D.

  With one question, Xavi brought up every insecurity I’d ever had and threw them on top of the most painful memory I carried— the reason I ran away.

  “Par— hmmm. In your age group? Paramonos is my guess. That name was like the plague with your year. What does Paramonos mean anyways?”

  I frowned. He guessed it. Paramonos was the name. I think it meant endurance or constancy, but I didn’t want to play Xavi’s game. He kept forgetting I was a Republic-kid too. Nikomedes even meant, to think on victory, although I hadn’t been feeling all that victorious lately.

  In the Colonies, they watered names on their babies like the meaning was something they could one day grow into. The Genetic Engineering Guild suggested it was flawed logic, but the Politicians made the case that nurturing was just as important as nature. So, every name held weight and underlying meanings, and no one person could ever mean just one thing. There was always shadings and nuances and connotations to dig through in order to figure out the truth of a person. Paramonos? He was just a name on a paper. I’d never met him, and I never would. Who knew how constant he would have been?

  “So, you were going to be partnered! Wow. To think. One day, in an alternate universe, you’d have had to fork!”

  “Shut up, fungus brains.” I swiped at his back, and he turned to lunge at me. We ran after each other along the track, and the game of chase chased away memories of Mama and Daddy and the fire and the gunshots. There was just the here and now and laughter, since it was the only thing left to live on.

  It was somewhere past midnight when we needed to stop. The dark made it hard to see, but I recognized a slight decline where the trees grew in and out of a ditch. “Where do we set up camp?” Flea asked.

  “We don’t.”

  “What?”

  “Feel that? Temperature’s dropping. We need to move fast.”

  “All the more reason to get into a tent.”

  “All the more reason not to. You going to pack up a tent fast enough if a train comes?”

  He thought on my point. “Okay. What do we do then?” I wasn’t expecting him to give in so easily and trust me completely in the logic of survival. It threw me off for a second. I was so used to Xavi telling me what we should do and why. I hated to admit I liked how Flea listened to me— that it made me feel like I finally had a voice in what I was doing.

  I sighed. This next part was going to be awkward.

  “Okay. There are several sleep formations we can use to stay warm in situations like this,” Xavi explained.

  I nodded. We were a week into my first journey on the Tracks, and I hadn’t even hopped on my first train yet. We were still days away from the rails, and there were still so many things I wasn’t sure about.

  What he wanted me to do was so illegal. Even touching a boy was wrong. I knew I’d have to face awkward situations sooner than later, but it still didn’t make it easier. Redefining wrong to right was not in my skill sets, and questioning the Republic had never been in my nature. Whether or not the Republic was here to see it, I was breaking one of the most foundational laws it was built on. It made my stomach twist in all kinds of ways that had nothing to do with butterflies.

  The entire summer, the weather had been kind, and we didn’t really use the tent unless it rained hard. Even then, we slept two spoons in the same drawer, and Xavi respected my space. He avoided touching me and walked away when I needed to bathe or clean my clothes.

  This was asking for more. He was breaking those unsaid rules and explaining “sleep formations.”

  “So. We have to take turns keeping watch. If a train comes, we have to be ready,” Xavi said. “We could set up a tent, but if a train comes, we need to get on it quicker than that. Feel the weather? It’s changing, fast, and the sooner we move south, the better off we’ll be.”

  I nodded again.

  He sat against the tree with his pack still on his back. “I keep it on so I’m uncomfortable enough to stay awake. Now, you sit here.” He motioned to the space between his knees.

  I swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “Look. Would I do anything to hurt you? Have I ever?”

  “No.”

  “It’s the only way to stay warm. It’s too cold already, and it’ll only get colder.”

  I set my jaw and settled between his legs. I hugged myself while he wrapped a sleeping bag around us and his arms around me. There was warmth there, but my heart was racing so fast I couldn’t sleep, even if I’d wanted to.

  Illegal meant something different lately. It was as if what was wrong was not always illegal and what was right was not always legal. If that’d been the case, then how could murdering my parents have been right or legal? They’d never broken any law from my understanding, and they were never given a trial. In terms of legal in the eyes of the Republic, I should have turned myself in. I should be a distant memory. I should be cremated ashes scattered into nothing. So, if staying alive was illegal, then I broke that law when I ran, and I knew I had to keep breaking laws, big and small, in order to keep on breaking the first one I broke. Knowing these things didn’t make it any easier to do though.

  Eventually, it was my turn to watch, and we switched. When he leaned into me, I had trouble seeing anything around his bulky shape, so he slithered down, and I rested my chin on the top of his head. He slept like a rock despite my heart pounding hard enough to beat bruises into his back. Darn Track-kids— they could sleep anywhere.

  Chapter Six

  I could tell Flea wasn’t sleeping. He was rigid in my arms, breathing fast and nervous. I’d hoped he’d pass out within minutes, but, unlike Xavi, he was a Colony-kid. I couldn’t fault him for freaking out. What we were doing was extremely punishable. I tried to soothe, but it didn’t come out right. “Look. It’s death by them, maybe, or death by hypothermia, certainly. If we’re stuck together for now, at least we can use each other’s warmth.”

  “What does it meant to get ditched?” He asked.

  “Huh?”

  “That man said you got ditched. What does it mean?”

  “Exactly how it sounds. I had a friend. He wanted a different one. We parted ways.” Flippant. I was getting good at that. This boy would never know how each short sentence had so many more run-ons that I could have connected to them. He wouldn’t hear all the stories collected over two years that were waved away by a nice pair of Legs.

  “Did you do this with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh.”

  I groaned. “This. Means. Nothing. You have to get that through your head now. Survival goes beyond the things that make you uncomfortable. Uncomfortable is better than dead. So. If you’re not going to sleep, can we switch? I’m exhausted.”

  We were close to the lake Xavi wanted to show me, but I kept getting distracted. My thoughts were on the new friends we just left. They were a cheerful group, and I’d forgotten how good laughter felt. My sides still hurt from the stories I heard around the campfires. Polo and his sister Mari were a comedic show, while the other two never shared their names. I started calling them Oldie and Goldie. They didn’t seem to mind their new nicknames and answered to them cheerfully. Polo even invited me into his tent the first night, which sent all sorts of hot red into my cheeks, but Xavi saved me from my own embarrassment by placing a protective hand on my shoulder. It annoyed me that he was Claiming me still, but it relieved me too. Part of me was curious to see what life without Xavi would feel like, but the other part of me couldn’t imagine sleeping next to anyone else. Polo let it slide and didn’t take offense. If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it much, and he didn’t ask again. He kept things friendly, especially since Xavi never left me alone for the rest of the weeks we traveled with them.

  Then, Xavi got antsy. He wanted to move on quickly, so he laid the hints, and we parted ways.

  But, as we walked through the forest, I found myself wishing I’d found a way to stay. Lately, things with Xavi felt so cold and structured, and I didn’t know how t
o admit to myself that it was suffocating. I knew he was just trying to protect me, but he was starting to manage all of my actions. With Mari and Polo, things felt easy. They were just so… carefree.

  I hated saying goodbye.

  My eyes were everywhere they weren’t supposed to be as we walked. There were too many animals I’d never seen before, and I kept marveling at the genetic differences.

  Then the red caught my eye, and curiosity taunted me. I reached my fingers out and pulled the snake from the branch. I turned and held it up to show Xavi, but he stumbled back and let out a yelp.

  “Awe, Xavi. Come on!” I pleaded.

  Xavi shook his head. “It’s a snake!”

  “Only a Garter.”

  “Oh. Only a Garter? Niko. Put the dang thing down.”

  I let the scales trace my fingers and smiled. The coloring of it told other stories, and through those stories, I knew the snakes evolutionary beginnings. They used to be boring browns, but now, they were neon red. One mutation of a gene, then selective breeding of that gene, and, voila, snakes were easier to spot by humans. Since mice and other prey were, for the most part, color blind, it didn’t effect the snake’s ability to hunt, but it allowed people who were afraid of them to stay clear.

  Thank the Stars for the Scientists of the Republic.

  “It’s not poisonous,” I reassured, but his face was contorted in a strange display of fear. It made me laugh. “Make you a deal. I’ll jump from a bridge if you hold the snake for five seconds.”

  “Awe. Look who’s brave now.”

  I reached out with my other hand and grabbed his.

  “Niko. No. Come on.”

  “Has anyone explained to you how whiney your voice is sometimes?”

  His palm lay open on top of mine, and his fingers trembled slightly. I took the Garter snake and set it on top of his hand. It slid over his palm and up his arm until it had left my hand completely.

  My other hand was still underneath his, and I felt the trembles increase, then soften.

  “See. It’s not so bad. It’s just a snake. You realize, right, that once upon a time, we shared a common ancestor.”

  “Gross, Niko.” His jaw tensed, and the muscles in his cheeks turned to stone. He looked terrified and beautiful all at once, and my breath stuttered when I remembered how much I wanted things I wasn’t supposed to want from him.

  Despite the shivers, he leaned in to examine the snake, and our foreheads nearly grazed. His lips were peach-pinked and looked soft and harsh at the same time. I only knew what they looked like, and I knew I’d never know what they felt like. It was better that way, because anything else that could happen wouldn’t be right.

  I scooped the snake off his arm and put it back on the branch where I’d found it. He followed me, and we both leaned over to watch it move along. We stood so close the tiny hairs on our arms nearly touched. I couldn’t stop my heart from running away, and it was hard to breathe. He never stood this close to me unless it was out of necessity.

  But there was a different type of necessity to this closeness. There was a vibration of energy coursing between us, as if, under the canopy before Randolf interrupted, a mutation of the heart happened. I thought it had only been within me, but the way the hairs on his arms stood up near mine told me I’d been wrong.

  He reached down and placed my palm on his, and he traced the lines that existed there. “You’re brave, Niko.” He said it softly. Warmly. He was so close. He was too close. With each infinite milli-second that passed, it seemed that he only got closer and closer. “Everyone you meet sees it. It’s an underestimated brave, and it sneaks in on the people you meet. It draws them to you. Even Pol—“

  “I’m not brave,” I whispered. I pulled my hand out of his, and turned back to the path. Something bigger than my heart told me what would have happened if I didn’t walk away— an irrevocable moment that I still wasn’t ready for. “Let’s get there already. I’d like to go for a swim. It’s so hot out here!”

  I definitely wasn’t brave at all.

  “Knucs. Wake up.”

  I lifted my head from where it’d settled into the crook of his elbow. There was a tha-tha-thrump-tha-tha-thrump on the tracks. The sound was like a lullaby, and too slow to be anything but a freight.

  I jumped up and rolled the sleeping bag as fast as my fingers could work. I tied it to the place on top of my pack with an extra belt, and Flea and I ran up to the tracks.

  The lights that lit the wheels were broken in places, so only some of the cars were lit. Darkness could work for or against us, and I wondered which it would be.

  Then I saw the open-tops and grinned.

  “Think you can follow my lead again? This one’s going slightly faster than the last one, but we should still be able to make it.” The open-tops zoomed past, but their pronounced ladders made for easy targets. “You’ll have to get the next one, after me. If you miss the first grab, just keep trying. If we get separated, we climb to each other once we’re on it.”

  “Okay,” he whispered. Adrenaline was hot on his face. I didn’t need daylight to see it. I knew it was there because it was on mine too. This part never got old.

  One slip and death.

  One slip and everything was gone.

  But, for one perfect moment, I got to defy death, and it was the only time I’ve ever felt truly powerful.

  The clouds were mirrored in the water. It was as if they stared at their own reflection and couldn’t get enough of themselves. They were conceited, fluffy, globs of narcissism— white beyond white against a too-bright baby-blue. I tugged off my t-shirt and forgot to feel embarrassed. Back in the Colonies, the suits were all thin pieces of fabric that stretched the lines of the body. Pants and long sleeves thin enough to let in air, but sturdy enough to protect us from the sun. Swimming in my underwear used to turn my face to lava, but after a year on the Tracks, I’d grown used to it.

  The water was cold as I ran in. Each step turned me into a slow motion runner as the water splashed up and over until I finally gave up. I threw myself into the embrace of the water and the cold rushed over my eyes. The liquid tried to find any opening into my insides. It froze my ear canals but got stopped by my eardrums. I resurfaced and struck out against the placid lake, and with the clouds in the water, I felt like I was swimming in sky.

  I looked back and saw Xavi. He was still about knee deep in water, and he had that look on his face. It was the look that said I’d done something stupid and not Track-like. There were so many subtle rules, and I never knew when I’d do something to get myself into a bind with my ignorance. I was lucky to have Xavi around to remind me to be careful.

  We never told anyone I was a Colony-kid. If they asked, we said I was a Stationary. We claimed my parents hid me away in the wilderness, and I struck out on my own because I wanted to see the world. The story suggested that I was a genetic anomaly, and that part made me cringe, but the flimsy lie made me safer in some ways. It was so obvious that I was new to the Tracks, and there were so many things and sayings that Xavi tried to blend out of my habit. So when he got that look, it was always in my best interest to figure out how to avoid whatever I’d done for future reference.

  I swam back in his direction and he waded in mine. I stood up and waited for the rebuke. Once again, the water amplified how drastically tall he was, and his navel hovered above the water while mine was swallowed up in it.

  “What’d I do now?” I asked. I couldn’t hide the annoyance at having to come back.

  As I looked up at him, his head blocked out the sun. Within the shadows of his face, there was an expression I didn’t recognize. It was a look that started growing when we left the Garter snake on the stump, and it was a look I’d ignored as I pointed out different sparrows in the trees and filled the gaps in conversation with senseless chatter. I told myself I was imagining it, but I wasn’t. There was a determination within the browns that existed in his eyes. There was an energy that pulled all the air out from aro
und me, and it left me in terror.

  He bent his face down, and his lips hovered above mine for what felt like forever until the entire world collapsed between our mouths. There was a clumsiness and awkwardness on my part. I didn’t know where to put my hands, so I settled for reaching them around his neck. It only pulled him in closer and tighter, and made everything all that much better. My tippy toes dug into the mud as I stretched. Our bodies collided, and our skin was slippery and different from the other times I’d had to nuzzle next to him for warmth. On those nights, I’d already memorized the curves of the muscles on his chest and the color of his darkened skin, but this was different.

  I didn’t know how to breathe, and I only wanted more and more of whatever was happening.

  His arms reached up behind me, and his fingers left trails of shivers along every inch of my back. Then he reached for the clasp that held my bra. I’d imagined the kiss a million times since that night under the canopy when Randolf interrupted, but I’d never imagined this part. This part didn’t fit in my head.

  I pulled away and pushed him back. It must have caught him off guard, because he toppled into a large splash, and I dove back into the water to fix my bra before he saw anything else.

  The clouds burned off under the sun as it rose. It was one of those lackluster sunrises, but it didn’t make me any less thankful to see it. We’d found an empty open-top. It was walled on four sides and was uncovered, like a sardine lid peeled back. The metal was cold, but it shielded us from the wind. It was the one Flea caught, and I had to clamber across three others to get to him. Each of the cars between had some sort of mineral mounding mini-mountains inside, and the pebbles that created those mountains were not easy to climb on. They made my hands turn black, and I used some of my water to wash the dirt off my fingers. I’d be able to get more water soon enough, so it was worth the spent liquid.