Evalene's Number

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Evalene's Number Page 18

by Bethany Atazadeh


  Stepping onto the gangplank between the submarine and the thick levee wall, Evalene crossed carefully. Her first step onto the smooth, dry cement felt momentous, like a band should be welcoming her with a song of celebration. She had escaped.

  But instead there was only the roar of the wind and the waves crashing rhythmically onto the sea side of the thick wall, drowning out most of the conversation between the other passengers as they walked along the long, cement wall in clumps of twos and threes ahead of her. Evalene stared in awe at the shore, drinking in the wide-open spaces of the harbor.

  Only a few tall buildings rose in the distance, too far to make out any details, and the rest of the landscape was covered in green trees and smaller, colorful buildings with mountains in the background. Just a quarter mile down, the levee gave way to sandy beaches all along the waterfront on the other side of the bay, a stark contrast from the crowded, manmade Delmare harbor.

  As they walked along the cement embankment, they passed docks inside the bay where smaller boats anchored, floating and bouncing cheerfully in clear blue water. Evalene’s nose crinkled a little at the fishy smell floating towards them on the wind as they passed, mixing with the salty ocean air. Seagulls called to each other as the waves lapped at the boats and the docks. Staring at the birds in awe, she stopped in her tracks to admire them. The island had so many birds! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a few others stop to gawk at the birds as well.

  It felt like a dream, but the sun was too bright and the smells too powerful to be imagined. Trailing after the group, Evalene picked up her feet as they neared the beach. Once she reached the sand, she picked up a handful and felt the soft grainy pieces pour out of the cracks between her fingers until she let it spill back to the ground.

  A memory of when she was a little girl and her family travelled to a beach struck her. Instantly, she craved that feeling of her bare feet in the sand. She’d taken to leaving her boot laces mostly untied. Just needed to undo the knot at the top, and with a quick tug they slipped right off. She wiggled her toes in the warmth, closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply.

  “Have you never been on a beach before?” Olive’s voice floated across the wind to reach her ears. “The sand is hot – your feet are going to burn.”

  Opening her eyes, Evalene felt the heat Olive mentioned, but she didn’t care. Burrowing her toes deeper into the sand, she found cool grains untouched by the sun underneath and stayed put, admiring the wide-open spaces. The salty ocean air on her tongue tasted like freedom.

  The small harbor was filled with all sizes of ships and small boats. The largest ones, like their submarine, were forced to anchor out in deeper waters on the other side of the levee wall. Fishermen sailed through the small opening on the side of the bay out into vast ocean while others stood or sat along the wall as they tossed their lines out into the sea.

  Now that they were closer to the city, it stretched out in front of her. She’d never seen a city like it. Perfectly rounded buildings on the outskirts made out of a shiny metal she didn’t recognize gave way to skyscrapers in the middle, taller than any back home. Their spires stretched up and up towards the clouds, with a few of the tallest disappearing into the mist. Odd angles, steep roofs, and the way the tips sloped inward as if tapering off only to angle out again all gave the impression that the grand buildings were almost a form of art. Most were silver or gold, and some the same blue as the sky. When she caught sight of a cloud on one of them mirroring the one above it, she realized they were made of a reflective material. The strange glassy architecture gleamed bright in the sunlight, making her eyes water.

  Evalene stopped at the edge of the beach as it changed to grass, keeping her toes in the sand. She soaked in the warmth of the sun, studying the city. When Jeremiah had described an island, she’d pictured something tiny. But that closest city was as huge as Delmare, if not larger. She could definitely get a job as a maid or a nanny... Or possibly a cook, if they weren’t too picky about what they ate.

  As the group left the beach, Evalene continued to carry her boots. She wanted to stay barefoot as long as she could.

  Olive chimed in beside her. “Whatcha thinking about?”

  “Ah... the city... It’s beautiful.” Safe answer. She stepped off the beach, reveling in the feeling of fresh grass between her toes. It felt like freedom. The sun touched her face gently.

  “That’s Hofyn,” Olive said. “Grandma Mae and my parents and I live right on the other side. Well, a few miles past technically.”

  “I thought the island was called Hofyn?” Evalene squinted in confusion.

  “It is,” Olive nodded. “They named the island after the city because it used to be the only one here.”

  “But it’s still just an island,” Evalene felt comfortable enough with Olive to speak her thoughts out loud. “Why didn’t Eden conquer it?”

  Olive’s laugh startled Evalene. “Island is kind of a loose term,” Olive told her. “Hofyn is really more of a small continent. And our technology here is far more advanced than Eden’s. We’re perfectly capable of fighting back, if it ever came to that. From what I understand, the only machinery Eden has that surpasses ours is that Grid that shoots down flying objects.”

  Was Eden not as powerful as the Number One let on? Who would win if it came to a war between the two countries? Evalene didn’t have time to ponder it long. As they topped the hill, the camp stretched out before her, capturing her attention.

  A mass of white tents sprawled from the edge of the harbor out into the distance across the hills and valleys in organized rows. This must be the camp that Jeremiah had referred to in his speech. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people milled about, all on their way to different destinations, preparing for the fight. Larger tents, the size of five or six put together, were also sprinkled throughout the camp, though she couldn’t tell what they were from the distance.

  Most fascinating of all, there were various squares of green grass throughout the camp, about the size of an acre each, where men and women seemed to be training. At first glance, the people in one square looked as if they were in actual fist fights, but at a signal that Evalene couldn’t hear from the man watching on the side, they broke apart, clapping each other on the backs. In another square, on the opposite side of the camp, Evalene could just make out targets and soft, sporadic pops in the distance that she realized were gunshots. In yet another square, she was surprised to find that people were actually shooting at each other, popping out from behind haystacks and makeshift wooden obstacles. She stopped as the scene gripped her, her nerves tingling in anxiety when one of the shooters was hit, but instead of blood, a big spot of green splattered on their vest, followed by another shot, which sprayed the vest with yellow. It was just a game, a simulation of a battle. She breathed a sigh of relief.

  As they drew closer to the camp entrance, they caught up to the group finally. Evalene searched for Jeremiah among the passengers or the crew, but didn’t spot him. Had he stayed behind? Why did she keep thinking about him?

  She spotted Talc’s bald head towering above those with him, near the front of the group, talking to Luc. Reminded of his promises of “payback,” Evalene made sure to keep her distance. She felt safe enough in the group. Now that they were on the island, maybe he would take the Number-free idea seriously. Either way, it didn’t matter much. She didn’t plan to stay here long.

  Luc’s voice boomed from the front of the group, easily projecting to where Evalene and Olive stood at the back. “Listen up! We’re guests on the island. They’ve welcomed refugees from Eden into their homes, and have allowed those who plan to fight to set up camp here in preparation for almost two years now. If you choose to stay, we have people who can help you find work, and you are all welcome to stay here in camp until you find a place to live. We have enough food and shelter for everyone. Our only expectation is that you’ll pitch in and work. There’s a lot that needs doing. So let’s all work together and have a good time, huh?”
/>   Luc grinned and slapped the man Evalene recognized from the day before, Schorl, on the back. “Follow me. I’ll be assigning everyone to available tents.”

  The group followed as Luc dropped off a few people at each tent, giving them instructions before moving on. Evalene sighed in relief when Talc was one of the first to be assigned.

  “C’mon,” Olive whispered as Luc took a turn to the left and she turned to the right instead. “I have an extra bunk in my tent for when Grandma Mae visits – you can stay with me!”

  “Don’t I need to sign up to help out?”

  Olive waved a hand, leading Evalene further away. “Don’t worry about that. You can help set up the training grounds with me. Or there’s always rotations available for cleaning the bathrooms.” She pointed towards the only two solid structures in camp, one on each side, made of cement. “We have running water. It’s not like they’re still holes in the ground, but you’d be surprised how disgusting they can get.”

  Evalene doubted she’d be at all surprised, after her years cleaning bathrooms back home, but she nodded, following Olive down row after row. How Olive found “her” tent amidst the identical white tents surrounding it, Evalene had no idea. But she followed her inside. If she was lost, no doubt Talc would be too, which made her feel safer.

  As Olive set her suitcase on top of the cot on the left, chattering away, Evalene tested the cot on the right, laying her head on the soft pillow and letting the tension drain out of her. She was so tired. Spending the night in the storage area, afraid of being found and terrified of running into Talc, meant she’d barely slept. She closed her eyes to rest for just a minute.

  Salty ocean air jolted her awake. The tent was quiet. Olive’s small bag was tucked under her cot on the other side of the tent, but the girl was gone. How long had she slept?

  Swinging her feet over the side of the cot, Evalene picked up her boots from where she’d dropped them at the entrance, lacing them at the top and tying a quick knot. Opening the flap of the tent, she peered out. The sun was curving in the sky, beginning to make its way back down. The time on the submarine had confused her sleeping schedule. She’d slept all morning and a bit of the afternoon.

  Her stomach growled in confirmation. Evalene stepped cautiously out of the tent, glancing around, not sure what to do. She turned to the swinging, fabric door behind her. Discovering a zipper hidden in a pocket of fabric at the top, she pulled it carefully down to the bottom.

  She took a step back, surveying her work. Not much of a deterrent to intruders. But it would keep out bugs. What did she have to steal at this point anyway?

  “What do you think of the island so far?”

  Evalene whirled around at the voice. It was Jeremiah. He stood smiling slightly at her efforts to lock the tent. She brushed off her hands briskly and moved into the makeshift road between the tents. “I haven’t seen much of it yet,” she told him, turning to walk away from him without a clue where she was going. Better not to spend time with him. It just added to her guilt about not joining the revolution. “Have a nice day,” she called over her shoulder.

  But he jogged the couple steps it took to catch up with her, walking alongside as she strode down the dirt lane in the general direction of the ocean. “I was actually on my way to help with supper,” he said, keeping pace with her. Evalene’s stomach growled again at the word. “Would you like to join me? Or did Luc already assign you to a rotation?”

  Slowing to a stop, Evalene cleared her throat. “He didn’t,” she admitted, giving in. She was hungry, and supper rotation sounded far better than cleaning bathrooms. “Which way is the kitchen?”

  “Follow me.” He turned, leading her in the opposite direction that she’d been walking. She followed a step behind, but he slowed to walk beside her. “Did you enjoy the submarine?”

  She wanted to tell him that the little bunks were surprisingly soothing, the way they blocked out noise and light. That if her nerves hadn’t been wound so tight, she might’ve slept as peacefully as she had pre-Numbering. She especially wanted to tell him about Talc. But what could he do? Nothing, except reveal her true Number or remove the man from the rebellion. Neither of those things helped her at all. Both would just lead to the big man hunting her down. No. This was a fresh start. No one here knew she was a Number 29, and if she kept to herself, it could stay that way.

  So she just said a quiet, “Yes, thank you,” and they walked in awkward silence, dirt and bits of gravel crunching under their feet. A lot of the people they passed still wore brown, but they’d covered their tattoos with their hair or a scarf or a patch, and almost all of them wore some other spot of mutinous color, whether a jacket, or new shirt, or shoes, or even hair pieces, making the crowd a vibrant rainbow of rebellious colors.

  Jeremiah spoke after a minute or so of silence. “Now that you’re here, have you decided what you’re going to do next?”

  “I’m not sure...” All of her questions about the city poured out of her, unbidden. “How many people live in town? The houses are all so small – do they all have their own individual homes? How would I get a job working in a home? Or could I work outside of a home here? How do people know what jobs they should be doing without a Number? Do they just pick at random or do they get to try things to find out what they like first? And –” Jeremiah started laughing and Evalene caught herself.

  “I could help you find work,” Jeremiah chuckled, answering the most urgent question, “if you’d like?”

  “That’s okay, you have more important things to do,” Evalene shook her head. She couldn’t tell him that she was avoiding him and his revolution. She changed the subject. “Do you know what we’ll be making for dinner?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure yet,” Jeremiah replied. “But in a group this size there are only so many options. Nothing too fancy when you’re feeding nearly ten thousand. Whatever it is, we’ll divide it up. We serve meals in three shifts.” Evalene nodded gravely.

  They came to a stop in front of a huge tent that could’ve held two dozen of the smaller tents inside it easily. Pulling back the flap, Jeremiah gestured for her to go first, and they entered the portable kitchen. The heat of the ovens hit her right away, beads of sweat starting to form on her back. A dozen or more people stood at different stations throughout the tent, hard at work.

  “Jeremiah, open those blasted flaps for us,” a larger, big-boned woman yelled from a half dozen feet away. “We’re sweating to death in here!” Without waiting for him to do as she’d asked, she marched over to them and whipped the folds of the tent door up, yanking the ties around to keep them open. Her face was bright red from the heat. She walked right past them to the opposite side of the tent, where she whisked the flaps up and out of the way there as well, talking as she worked. “About time you showed up. Sanidine’s already working on the mix, so now you get to do the bread. Start by slicing it and spreading them out on that table, you hear me?”

  Jeremiah winked at Evalene behind the woman’s back, unfazed by her yelling at him. He moved towards the table the cook had pointed out. Wide-eyed, Evalene regretted agreeing to come.

  “New girl!” the woman’s voice hollered from the table where she worked.

  Evalene’s shoulders tensed. She stared at the ground, turning towards the cook. “Yes, ma’am.” She responded the way she always did to Daeva.

  The woman paused for a beat, then said in a calmer tone of voice, “See all that tuna?”

  Evalene followed the direction of the cook’s finger and saw a dozen huge tin cans with blue and white labels. Biting her lip, she nodded.

  “Open each tin and add the contents to Sanidine’s mix, understand?” The cook pointed towards another younger woman in the tent nearby, who waved a few fingers covered in a white paste in their direction at her name.

  Nodding again, Evalene was careful to be on her best behavior that even Daeva wouldn’t have been able to find fault with. “Yes, ma’am. I will, ma’am.” She didn’t meet the woman’s
eye, just curtseyed to the edge of the cook’s pale yellow dress and worn gray slippers. Evalene moved towards her assigned station, next to Jeremiah’s table.

  Jeremiah cleared his throat once, then a second time more loudly from where he stood a few feet away. When Evalene didn’t respond right away, he appeared at her side.

  “Hey relax,” he whispered, bumping her arm with his elbow teasingly. “Don’t take Trona too seriously. She’s all talk.”

  Evalene risked a peek over her shoulder in Trona’s direction. The cook was busy holding a spatula next to the woman she’d called Sanidine. Taking a bite, Trona smacked her lips together in distaste. “Needs more salt.”

  Looking back at Jeremiah, Evalene caught a slice of bread disappearing under the table, in his hand one second and gone the next. He looked up and smiled. Still whispering he told her, “This is Juno.” He wiggled his fingers near the edge of the table and a black nose appeared, sniffing and stretching up towards them. Evalene caught a glimpse of white fur that looked like a mop before the huge dog pulled back under the table.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, more loudly than she’d intended.

  Trona overheard. The big woman marched over to them. Evalene kept her eyes on the table, picking up one of the tins and beginning to twist it open with the can opener.

  The woman’s face was still flushed and sweaty, despite the cool air coming in. “What’s so exciting over here? I’d like to think it’s my fine cooking, but with the captain in our kitchen,” she gave him an exaggerated glare, “I’m afraid I know better.”

  Evalene shrunk under her gaze. Gluing her eyes to the floor, she didn’t say a word, just waited for her punishment. But then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dog’s black nose peek out from under the table. It had made its way from Jeremiah’s end of the table to where she stood, and now it stretched out slowly in curiosity towards her hands where they were clasped in front of her. Its pink tongue flicked out towards her and in a panic, Evalene swung her hands behind her back, trying to shoo the dog discreetly before it was spotted.

 

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