by Simone Pond
Though the house is empty, I sneak down the hall to my parents’ room, tiptoeing like a thief in the night. I haven’t stepped into their bedroom since the night my mother got swarmed by the flies. It takes a minute to gather myself before I’m able to slink into the shadowy room. The moment I do, the scent of lilacs rushes over me. I’m surprised my mother’s presence still lingers so heavily after all this time. And the craving to see her and touch her again knocks me off balance. I sit on the bed, hug her pillow into my chest and cry.
My father still hasn’t removed her things, and her hairbrush, perfume and cosmetics sit on top of the antique vanity as though she’s been living here the last three years. Arrays of family photos are tucked along the mirror, their edges curling. I remember sitting at that vanity, putting on makeup and brushing my long black hair, while Mom sat on the bed, humming a tune or reading a book. Being in this room reminds me how much I long for her company. I’ve been so consumed with finding my brother I didn’t realize how much I’ve truly missed her. Her absence is like a misplaced puzzle piece, gone from the picture forever.
Before my grief pulls me back under, I get up and go into the closet to start looking for the sapphire necklace I came in here for. All of her dresses, both day and evening, are still hanging. I caress the soft fabrics, breathing in her flowery scent. If wanting her back badly enough could only bring her home … No time to be maudlin. I need to get to work. I start searching in the top drawer of the dresser, not feeling particularly good about the idea of pilfering items from the dead. I tell myself this is what she would want … Families stick together. Blood is thicker than water. I prowl through the drawers carefully sifting through her undergarments and corsets. I rifle through blouses, towels and bed sheets, but don’t come across any jewelry. Hope begins to siphon, realizing Dad probably pawned her things a while back to keep the electricity going and food on the table.
Something in the bottom drawer thumps against the wood, and I swiftly remove the stack of blankets. Underneath is an old-timey computer. It’s not like the massive devices in the tech lab at school. This computer is slender and compact and resembles a notebook. I’m not sure why my mother would own such an expensive piece of technology, especially since it’s forbidden. As desperate as I am for currency, I wouldn’t risk bringing something like this to the pawnshop. Getting caught with a computer means an immediate DOD. Is this what happened to my mother? But why would it still be in the house?
I press the power button, causing the thing to ding all sorts of loud. My heart pitches upward, and I crane my ear toward the door, making sure my father isn’t home yet. To be extra cautious, I yell out, “Dad?”
Silence resonates among the shadows, and I release the breath I’ve been holding in, then return my attention to the computer. This has opened up a universe of opportunity. I might not be able to pawn it, but if I can connect to the Wire I can pull up a bunch of speakeasy codes to the underground circuit—not only for Richmond, but also off-grid codes that have far more value. I come across a clandestine site and scroll around for a few minutes until I find a backdoor into a chat room. From there I’m able to visit another site with endless lists of speakeasy codes—it’s a gold mine. I go to grab a pen just as the computer starts beeping. Probably the SOB trying to track my location. I’m sure the Technocrats have installed all sorts of wireless monitoring throughout the grids.
Downstairs, the front door opens and my father stumbles into the house. The beeping from the computer grows louder, and so does the thumping in my head. I’m running out of time.
“Kalli, honey, why are the lights off?” my father calls out, his footsteps clomping across the foyer toward the staircase.
I don’t have time to write anything down, so I’ll have to rely on my eidetic memory to hold onto at least a few of the codes. I stare at the screen as if I’m taking a photograph, then shut off the computer and shove it back into the bottom drawer. I skid down the hallway to the top of the stairs. My father leans against the railing, catching his breath, too weak to make the ascent.
“Why are you sitting around in the dark?” he pants.
“I had a rough day. Came home and took a nap.” I help him back downstairs and into his chair. Turning on the radio, I tell him, “I’ll fix up some medicine. Just relax, okay?”
He nods, shame crushing his weathered face. “My good daughter.”
After he finishes drinking the concoction, I return to the kitchen and dig out the school directory and dial the number listed for Noah.
“Brenson residence,” Noah’s deep voice vibrates my eardrums.
“Hi, it’s Kalli,” I practically whisper.
“Kalli?”
“From school.”
“Yeah, I know who you are, I’m just wondering why you’re calling on me.”
“I need to meet you in person.”
He has the gall to laugh. “Whatever for?”
“I have something that might be of interest you. Can you meet or what?”
The lull seems to carry on for five minutes. I bite my thumbnail, waiting for his answer.
“Soda Shoppe,” he finally says.
Disappointed, I start to backpedal. “Anywhere else but there, please.”
“If you want to meet me, that’s where I’ll be. 8pm sharp.”
The clock on the wall says twenty to eight.
“Fine.” I slam down the receiver, grab my bag and bolt out the backdoor.
*
Inside Sadie’s Soda Shoppe, the booths are teeming with teenaged Long-Timers. Ignoring their frivolous banter, I make my way to the back, fully aware of how much I don’t belong in this den of decadence. I’m relieved everyone is far too enthralled in their prattle to notice me sliding into an empty booth tucked in the corner. I hold up a menu to my face and peer over the edge, watching for Noah as the minutes drag by.
Precisely twenty minutes late, Noah enters and struts down the aisle, tipping his chin to the pretty ladies. When he sees me, his smile morphs into a frown. “What’s up, Fly?”
“You’re late.”
Noah gives me a wry grin, staring at me with those alluring hazel eyes most girls swoon over. “I forgot how valuable minutes are for you Short-Timers.” He slides into the booth across from me. His dark curls are a little more disheveled than usual. “Although, I have to say, I’m impressed with your show of bravery coming here.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” I clench my jaw, forcing myself to remain cordial.
“So, why am I here?” he asks.
“I have access codes.”
He glances over his shoulder, then back at me. “Already told you, I don’t need any codes.”
I lean in closer. “They’re off-grid codes. You’ll have a better chance of finding out what happened to your brother out there than in this tight-lipped town.”
A flicker of astonishment brightens his eyes. “How’d you get them?”
“Never mind that. I’ll give them to you if you help me get a passport.”
“Why do you need to get off-grid so badly? There are plenty of drugs in Richmond.”
My body armor starts to encase me, and I want to shout or slap him, or something. “I don’t do drugs.”
He chuckles lightly. “Yeah, right. You hang out at speakeasies for the engaging company.”
“I hang out at speakeasies because—look, are you interested or not?”
Noah stares out the window to Main Street, his profile stoic and regal. I abhor myself for thinking he’s handsome, but dammit, I just can’t deny it.
“The clock is ticking,” I say.
“If anything, you should be worried about your impending DOD assignment. At the moment, it’s not looking too promising.”
“I’ve got more important concerns.”
“More important than living?”
“You don’t need to know why I want off-grid.”
“If you want my help I do.”
It’s my turn to stare out the w
indow. I watch couples strolling arm-in-arm, starry-eyed and beaming. Who has enough spare time for courting or falling in love? I’m not envious, just curious. I’d like to know what it’s like to share my valuable time with someone who was worth it.
“Clock’s ticking,” he says, mocking me.
I don’t know if I can trust him with my secret knowledge about Achilles. Part of me wants to tell him the truth because he might relate. Both of us have lost our brothers, only mine is still alive and he’s chasing a ghost. Underneath his abundance of Long-Timer smugness, he’s covering up a doleful longing—an endless void that begs to be filled with something. Something I know all about.
“I have to get down to Savannah. My brother needs my help.”
“Your brother who’s been missing for three years?”
“The one and only.”
“Do you know how dangerous leaving would be—a week away from graduation?”
I bite my thumbnail. “I do.”
He reaches for his gold pocket watch and starts flicking it open and closed. I now understand this is a nervous affliction, not a show of grandiosity. His face softens a little and he says, “You really have off-grid codes?”
Nodding, I smile.
“And if I help you get a passport, you’ll give me the codes?”
“I’ll even go with you to the speakeasies.”
Noah frowns or winces—either way, he looks incredibly uncomfortable and starts shifting around in the booth. “You want to go off-grid together? Alone? Together?”
My cheeks are blazing hot. How can he be so utterly oblivious to how hurtful he sounds? As though going off-grid with me would be worse than getting stabbed to death in a speakeasy. “I didn’t mean go together as companions. I thought you might want some help from someone who knows what they’re doing,” I snap.
“That’s not what I meant … It’s just, uh, I don’t really know you,” he says, glancing over his shoulder again.
I’m boiling and breaking out in a sweat. I refuse to endure this torture and scoot out of the booth. “We’ve known each other since kindergarten. Asshole.”
“Wait.” He grabs my wrist, pulling me back into the booth.
I yank away my arm and glare as viciously as possible. “I thought they taught manners in your circles. I was trying to be helpful, but I’ll just barter the codes with someone less despicable.”
“My apologies. You threw me off guard,” he mutters, blinking away what might have been a tear.
I ease back, giving him some room. My offer isn’t exactly conventional, even for a Long-Timer with the means to travel off-grid. “Look, I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I only suggested going together because I still need to nail down my brother’s exact location in Savannah. And, well,” I point to his tailored waistcoat and manicured hands, “quite frankly, you’ll probably stick out like a Low-Bottom at a town hall meeting.”
He stares at me for a while, eyeing me up and down, until his lips concede to an agreeable smirk. “Okay.”
“So, it’s a deal?” I hold out my hand, sealing our agreement.
Reluctantly, he reaches across the table. “Deal. But you can’t mention this to anyone. And we can’t leave until after graduation day. You might not care about your DOD, but I happen to care about mine.”
Laughter billows from me before I can stop myself. “You could set the school on fire and you wouldn’t get docked a single day, Long-Timer.”
“True, but I still have a reputation to uphold. My father’s a pretty big deal.”
As I’m sliding out of the booth, Parker Bishop walks into the shop and zeros in on me. He approaches the table, narrowing his hateful eyes and scowling at Noah. “Slumming it tonight, possum?”
Noah’s face pales as he searches for an answer, probably realizing he didn’t think the consequences of meeting here all the way through. For whatever reason, I decide to save him. “I left my bag in detention. Noah was kind enough to grab it for me. Seems as though some of you Long-Timers actually come with manners.”
“You hear that? Sounds like …” Parker cups his ear, staring off. “Yep, sounds like the swarm that’s coming to take you down, Fly.” He laughs and Noah flinches, but I remain unfettered. Now that I have a means to get off-grid, nothing—especially Parker Bishop—can spoil my happiness.
8
The days leading up to graduation, I catch myself looking at every clock and timepiece within a five-foot radius. Of course, when I actually want time to speed up it slows down. Despite the long days and final exams, I have a skip in my step. I’ve never felt so alive. Even Knack questioned my sudden upbeat attitude, but I promised Noah I’d keep my mouth shut about our plans to go off-grid. Knack will see why I’m so happy when I return to Richmond with Achilles by my side.
When graduation day finally arrives, I put on my regular old clothes and rush out of my room, bumping into my father in the hallway. He’s holding one of my mother’s dresses. The soft lilac material is made up of layers of skirt with a cinched waist and a neckline trimmed in delicate white lace. It’s a beauty.
“Matches your eyes,” he says proudly.
“Are you coming today?” I dare to ask.
Glancing at his wrist, he keeps his eyes lowered. We both know he can’t miss work. I hug him for a long time, biting back any tears. This could be the last time I see him for a while. At least until I return with Achilles.
“Go on and get dressed. And good luck with the buttons.” He winks, handing me the dress.
The amount of time it takes getting into the dress reminds me why I don’t bother with appearances. But I’m doing this for my father because I want him to proud. And I want him to remember me looking like a proper lady in case something happens off-grid and I don’t make it back home. After adjusting all of the layers of skirt and making sure I didn’t miss any of the tiny buttons, I pull up my hair and add a couple of white ribbons. I curtsey to my reflection, laughing at the lady staring back. Heaving up the layers of fabric, I carefully inch down the stairs, hoping not to trip.
My father stands at the bottom waiting for me, beaming with pride. “I’m so proud of you, my dear Kalliste. Your mother would be proud too.” He quickly brushes away a tear and escorts me to the front door.
“Achilles, too,” I add, smiling.
“Of course. The whole family.”
At the door, I reach out and hold him tight, appreciating this moment and hoping for many more. “Your medicine is on the counter. Don’t forget to take it when you get home,” I tell him.
“Planning on going somewhere?”
“There are some graduation parties, so I’ll be home late. Didn’t want you to forget.” I hate myself for deceiving him.
His calloused fingers touch my cheek, as though he already knows he won’t being seeing me for a while. “Enjoy yourself today and hold each minute dear, time goes by much faster after graduation. And whatever they give you for your DOD assignment, remember there’s always time to change it.”
Looking into his tired eyes, I know how hard he’s had to work to change his DOD. But hopefully Achilles and I can fix things—with both of us contributing our father won’t have to work so hard. I kiss his stubbly cheek, then almost fall ass over teakettle as I’m going down the front steps. After a slow and cautiously measured walk, I make it safely to the trolley stop, only tripping one other time.
*
The graduation ceremony is situated on the football field. Rows of white chairs designated for the seniors are set up, but the students flit around like hummingbirds, darting from one clique to the next. Flocks of family members sit in the bleachers under the canopy, chatting with one another as the marching band plays jovial celebratory tunes. The energy buzzes with excitement and ambivalence. This important day signifies crossing into adulthood and officially entering into the System of Balance. Those who have worked diligently on their studies, and Long-Timers who are secure simply because of their family lineage, will walk away with favorable DOD
assignments. But students like Knack won’t. They’ll graduate today knowing the rest of their lives will be filled with endless work in order to keep pushing back their date of death.
The inside of my wrist is pure and unmarred, but later today the pale blue glow of my DOD will appear. I’ve maintained outstanding grades throughout high school and have stayed out of trouble for the most part. I’m banking on a decent assignment with some wiggle room to give me enough time to get off-grid, locate Achilles and return before I need to start contributing to the system.
Noah Brenson is my ticket to get off-grid. I peer at the droves of students, searching for him in the crowd. The Long-Timers are dressed in exquisite gowns and suits as if they’re attending a high gala. It’s difficult to spot Noah amidst the lavish hoop dresses and top hats, but I finally see him standing with a pack of finely suited boys. Our eyes meet. He studies me for a moment, his brows raising as he finally recognizes me. Though my heart feels like a bottle of champagne ready to burst open, I remain poised as he departs from his friends and rushes over to me.
“Impressive, Kalli. Didn’t think you had it in you.” His compliment is backhanded, but I smile with a polite nod. I’m not about to ruin my one way out of town.
“I clean up nicely.” I bat my eyelashes in jest.
“I’d say so.” His eyes are dancing, not quite sure where to settle.
“So, do you want to leave right after the ceremony? But if you have to go to some parties, I can wait for you. But I’m thinking we should probably hit the road before curfew.” I don’t like how nervous and high-pitched my voice sounds, and I definitely don’t like the pained look settling over Noah’s face.
