This time. Last time it’d been this bad, Evalene had been just nine years old. The daughter of a Number Four and Six, whose mother was still alive. A foolish child who had wanted the rebels to lose. She didn’t feel that way anymore.
Every morning for the next three weeks, Evalene checked the milk delivery at the crack of dawn, before meeting Kevra, sometimes waiting on the doorstep for it to arrive.
Every morning, nothing.
Then one day, as she lifted the milk jars one by one, there it was. Another bulletin.
Pulling it out slowly, heart beating fast, Evalene saw it was even more straightforward than the last. A banner across the top screamed in bold block letters, “NO MORE NUMBERS!”
Evalene choked.
Coughing, she glanced around, worried someone would hear her. She hurriedly read the rest of the flyer.
There was a cartoon sketch again, but this time the artist simply put one man in the middle, faceless except for an angry mouth. His neck was noticeably bare, Number-free. This man was standing with hands outspread, defiantly holding back a swarm of Numbers, swirling all around him in the air like a cloud of flies, shouting just one word, “NO!”
It was such a simple image, but the idea of saying “no” to her Number fascinated Evalene. Something small and fragile blossomed in her chest. Something she hadn’t felt in five years. It felt light and hopeful.
Below the image were three simple phrases.
“FREEDOM. EQUALITY. It’s TIME to be NUMBER-FREE!”
Frightened, Evalene instinctively reached both hands to the top of the bulletin to rip it in half like the last one. She caught herself just in time. The household would expect to see this.
Undoubtedly the Regulators would find out, and it would be on the news again, probably tonight. If it didn’t show up a second time, Daeva would assume she was somehow a part of it, maybe even report her. It wouldn’t even matter that it would be false information. As a higher Number, Daeva’s word was the only one that counted.
Against all her impulses, Evalene jammed the bulletin back in the bottom of the milk container, under the same jar where she’d found it. Slowly, anxiously, she walked the jars with the offensive piece of paper through the house and into the kitchen. Finding the room still empty, she sighed in relief. She set the entire upsetting package on the table and raced out of the room.
It only took her thirty seconds to reach the tree. Kevra was already there waiting, bulletin in her hand.
Clapping her hands in excitement, Kevra squealed the moment she saw Evalene, “Tell me you saw it!” She held the bulletin out to Evalene anyway.
“I did!” Evalene said, wide-eyed, coming to sit by her friend. She rubbed her face in disbelief, taking the small piece of paper. Holding it, just like holding the first one before she’d burned it, made her feel closer to her mother. The undeniably rebellious language, so similar to her mother’s words in private, felt exciting, familiar, hopeful. Evalene held it carefully in both hands. “I never expected this... Number-free? What would that even look like?”
Kevra shook her head and frowned. “Are you kidding? Think about the textbooks we used to read in school.” Pulling out a peach to munch on for breakfast, Kevra took a bite. She continued talking around a mouthful, “They had hints of what the world used to be like all over them, if you paid attention. Do you realize our grandparents’ parents were, very likely, Number-less?”
Kevra talked with her hands, her wild gestures dripping peach juice all over her dress. “Probably only into their twenties, but still!”
Evalene couldn’t picture it. She tried to imagine not having a Number, high or low, but it made her head hurt. She didn’t want to give the bulletin back. The longer she held it, the more memories came back to her of her mother.
Pearl used to give money to homeless low Numbers on the street whenever they went out shopping. One particular memory hit Evalene as she held this new bulletin, of Pearl buying a poor low-Number girl in dirty rags some ice cream. The girl couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Evalene at the time, newly Numbered. Pearl and Evalene had finished their cones only to turn and find the shopkeeper beating the girl. Pearl had swung between outrage and tears the rest of that day.
With one last squeeze, Evalene gave the bulletin back to Kevra. Before they parted ways, Kevra dropped one more bomb on Evalene, “I have a friend in the Keyboard department who owns a map. She says there’s at least one other country besides Eden that survived the war. People call it the FreeLands. Because they don’t have any Numbers.”
7
The Proposition
FLEUR SHRIEKED WHEN SHE discovered the second bulletin. Her reaction seemed overly dramatic, probably for Daeva’s sake, who confiscated it immediately, delivering it to Evalene’s father. No one seemed to wonder if Evalene had seen it first. She breathed a soft sigh of relief as she served breakfast.
The staff was all whispers and side conversations. Evalene was used to being excluded. She tried not to wonder what they were saying about the bulletins, but found it harder than usual. Even her father’s girlfriend, Ruby, broke off whispering to him whenever Evalene entered the room.
By dinner, Evalene couldn’t stand it. She risked Daeva’s wrath and dropped the basket with the last few eggs meant for tomorrow’s breakfast. Furious, Daeva demanded to know how she could be so stupid.
Though it was rhetorical, Evalene took the question as an invitation to speak, “I can borrow eggs from the Greene’s household?” Daeva yelled to hurry. As Evalene rushed out of the kitchen with a spare basket, Daeva was screaming at Violet to clean up the mess.
Racing along the carefully kept up path leading to the Greene’s apartment over the detached garage, Evalene went around to their door on the side. Knocking on the door felt odd. She never had reason to be here. She hoped Kevra would be sent to answer.
When she saw her friend’s red hair and smiling green eyes, she breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Hello,” she said in a loud voice, “the Household has run out of eggs. We need to borrow what you have for tomorrow’s breakfast.” It wasn’t a question. The Vandereth household came first. The Greenes knew that, and would make do with toast in the morning. Evalene mouthed silently, Can we talk?
Kevra, nodding in understanding, replied to both, “Of course.” She waved Evalene into the tiny entry and the girls started up the stairs, “Come with me to the kitchen. I’ll give you what we have.”
Once there, Kevra whispered as she pulled out their egg basket, “Tell me quickly. My father is in the other room and my mother is resting. What’s going on?”
“Nothing happened,” Evalene reassured her, “I just couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning. I know you have news from the factory, tell me everything!”
Kevra nodded solemnly. “It turns out, the first time they distributed the bulletins, they used the farms,” she began, placing six eggs in a smaller basket as she spoke, wrapping them carefully in a soft towel. “Some of the lowest Numbers work on farmsteads. It’s such constant, heavy duty work, I heard they found a lot of sympathizers.”
Just the fact that Kevra called them sympathizers instead of traitors shook Evalene’s entire worldview. She nearly dropped the eggs for real this time as Kevra handed the basket to her. Evalene hugged the basket close to her chest as Kevra continued, “So the last few weeks, the Regulators had been watching the farms, but this second bulletin was handed out to the delivery boys. It happened right under their noses because they weren’t watching the right people!”
Evalene smiled too, but couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t most of the delivery boys un-Numbered? Wouldn’t some of them report it instead of delivering it, hoping to receive a higher Number?”
“Well their parents are all low Numbers, so it’s not like theirs could raise much higher. I don’t know for sure, but I heard rumors the bulletins went to the parents first, right before dawn, asking them to help their kids with the delivery!”
“Wow,” Evalene b
reathed. She hadn’t realized so many people were willing to take that risk. “What do you think is going to happen?”
Kevra took a deep breath and let it out slowly for dramatic effect. “There’s going to be a revolution. I’m sure now. Bigger than the Bloom Rebellion...” Evalene opened her mouth in surprise, but Kevra didn’t give her time to speak. She rushed to continue, “Evie,” she said, using Evalene’s nickname. She only did that when she was asking for something, “I can’t stay here. We could be executed or disappear one day, never to be found again, or worse. Work is unbearable. I don’t know if I can handle one more day...”
A few months ago, Kevra had hinted that her boss was forcing her to touch him, and it was making her uncomfortable. There was nothing she could do about it; he was a higher Number. The more time went on, the less Kevra was willing to talk about the situation. The haunted look on her face now told Evalene it must’ve gotten worse. Much worse.
Kevra whispered so quietly, Evalene strained to hear her, “I just can’t stay here any longer.” Grabbing Evalene’s hand over the egg basket handle, Kevra squeezed it in both of hers tightly, as if to force her to pay attention. She glanced over at the door to the living room and the rest of the house, before she lowered her voice to an even softer whisper, “Evie, listen. I think we should run.”
Evalene stepped back, “Run. You want to leave? Where would we even go?”
“Shhh!!” Kevra’s hands flew to her hair and she grabbed at the red strands as if to pull them out, then closed her eyes quickly and blew out a deep breath. Her eyes flew open. “Evie, look,” she said Evalene’s name a third time, smiling with thin lips, “You’ve been my friend for years now. I know you, and you know me. We don’t deserve this. I mean, how in the Number One’s name did you even get the Number 29? Your father is a FOUR. There is no way that’s legitimate, or what ‘God’ wants.” She made quotation marks in the air when she said God’s name, another rebellious move, though she glanced around to make sure no one else saw.
This argument always swayed Evalene. Everyone knew when they had children, their Numbers would be within a few of their own. The fact that Evalene was twenty-five Numbers apart from her own father was still gossiped about, years later.
If the rumors could be believed, Evalene’s Number was the consequence of her family’s actions. To shame them. To take away their credibility. A punishment for her mother and father, for disappointing the Number One.
Pearl’s involvement in the Bloom Rebellion, and maybe even beforehand, helping low Number refugees escape, was unacceptable. And Byron, married to a traitor, was equally unacceptable. His authority as a Number Four didn’t change in theory, yet the higher Number circles began to ignore him. As time passed, he was often snubbed entirely.
Since Evalene’s Numbering, he’d shrunk even further into himself. He fulfilled his duties as a Number Four and a party member quietly. Resigned. A few years ago, he’d met Ruby. The little woman had moved into their home practically minutes after becoming his girlfriend. It was odd for Evalene to think of her father having a girlfriend, but so was everything else she’d heard about him. He was a stranger to her.
Shrugging, Evalene shifted the egg basket in her arms. “I don’t know what to say.” She was luckier than most, sheltered in the Vandereth household. But Kevra was not so fortunate. Evalene hated to see her friend in pain.
Kevra was quiet, but she put on a small smile as she shooed Evalene out. “At least think about it. I can’t do it without you.”
Evalene held the railing as she took the narrow stairs down, with Kevra on her heels. It was tempting. But she knew what Regulators did to runaways. Everyone knew. Running was considered treason. And treason was the worst crime. They put fugitive’s bodies on display in the town center after they were done with them, to discourage others attempts.
Reaching the tiny landing, Evalene opened the door and paused. “I’ll think about it okay? Please don’t be mad...”
“I’m not mad, I swear!” Kevra said, putting on a big smile and giving Evalene a quick hug before she swept her through the door. “See you tomorrow. I’ll bring you a present for your birthday!” she hollered as the door shut in Evalene’s face.
8
18th Birthday
EVALENE DIDN’T HAVE A clock in her little room, but she was up before the sun, even earlier than normal. Today was her 18th birthday. The trundle bed was lumpy but warm, keeping her protected from the cool spring morning air that snuck into the room.
She burrowed deeper under the blankets to savor a few extra minutes. It wouldn’t be long before she was supposed to meet Kevra by the tree. Normally it was the highlight of her day, but she still didn’t have an answer for her friend, and Evalene knew Kevra would ask.
Maybe today she would ‘miss’ the meeting. She wanted some time to herself before Daeva began hollering for her to get to work. Birthdays were for high Numbers, Daeva would say.
But Evalene had gotten herself a little present.
Reaching under her bed frame, between the broken metal slats where there was enough space to hide a small object, she pulled out a book she'd borrowed from her father's library.
Happy birthday, she thought to herself, opening to the first page. In the five years since her Numbering, she’d missed being allowed time to read, more than almost anything else in the world, except her mother. When she was young, she’d spent hours reading – anything from novels to history books to “how to” books on things like gardening or cooking.
She settled in to read, turning the pages, sucked into the story, a romance between a lesser Number girl and a high-class Number boy whose family disapproved. Well, relatively low. They were both still in the top 10, but Evalene could use her imagination. She lost track of time, savoring the novel.
“Twenty Nine!” Daeva’s harsh voice bounced off the walls of the stairwell, scaring Evalene out of her daydreams. “Time to work!”
Evalene jumped. She folded a corner of the book to save her page, shoving the book under the bed in a hurry. Daeva did not ask twice. Once the book was stashed, she quickly rolled to face her tiny drawer on the other side of the bed and pulled out light brown stockings, the last step to getting dressed.
Brown hair, brown dress, brown socks, brown shoes... such an ugly color! Evalene smiled at the hiding place under her bed. Her tiny rebellion. Such a small thing. But if not for the temporary escapes, and Kevra, how would she survive a single day?
Working hard all morning and afternoon, Evalene pushed herself to be faster than ever, cleaning the upstairs master bedrooms in record time. No one would expect her to report to the kitchen until 5pm. She had a full, glorious 45 minutes all to herself to read.
She pulled out the hidden book again, curling up on her bed, holding the book at a tilt towards the light coming in the attic window.
As the light faded, it got harder to make out the words until Evalene startled, pulling herself out of the daydreams. What time was it? The sun was low on the horizon.
She clenched her hands nervously. Throwing the book under the covers, she didn’t waste time storing it properly, but ran down the narrow attic staircase. She sprinted down the hallway on tiptoes to the mansion’s grand staircase and tore down the steps, two at a time.
Peering around corners, she raced to the swinging door that led to the kitchen and slipped in, completely out of breath.
When she entered the kitchen, Daeva was screaming at Violet, “You knew about the bulletins all along - I knew you were a traitor!”
“No, I didn’t know! I believe in the Number System!” Violet cried, backing away from Daeva toward the door where Evalene stood. “Numbers are the only way, I know that!”
“But how can we know you didn’t plant the filthy thing in the milk delivery yourself?” Daeva accused, stepping towards Violet.
“She didn’t,” Evalene broke the rules and spoke without thinking, stepping forward to stand next to Violet. They weren’t close friends, but she was kind to
Evalene and looked out for her when she could. It was the least Evalene could do to stand up for her now. “I found the bulletin myself, right after the milk was delivered.”
The silence in the room was deafening. Daeva’s face was turning a deep purple.
“You’re telling me you saw the bulletin first and didn’t say anything.” It was not a question. “Do you realize what you’re confessing?”
The three other people in the room, the chef, and the two maids, Violet and Fleur, all stared at her with anxious, raised brows.
Evalene tried not to react, tried to keep her face still, voice calm, eyes directed towards Daeva’s feet. “I only picked it up,” she said. “I had nothing else to do with it. Please don’t inform on me.”
“TWENTY-NINE,” Daeva growled, stepping closer. Evalene flinched at the title. Only Daeva called her that. “Do not lie to me, girl.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I –” The hand came at Evalene so suddenly she didn’t have time to duck or even flinch. The sound of the slap cracking across her face echoed loudly in the high-ceilinged room. Fleur, who had been studiously looking away, startled and dropped the whole stack of porcelain plates she’d been holding. They crashed and shattered into a million pieces on the tile floor.
Evalene gasped from the pain. The left side of her face burned red hot and she felt something wet trickling down her cheek. Touching it, she found blood. Daeva’s ring had cut the skin by her eye.
“Look what you’ve done now,” Daeva snarled, pointing at the shattered pieces of the plates on the floor.
Evalene pursed her lips tightly, trying not to let her anger show, and blinked back tears from the slap. Of course she would be blamed for that.
“I’m sorry,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
But speaking out of turn just made Daeva more upset.
She lifted her hand as if to slap her again, which made Evalene duck.
Evalene's Number Page 5
