Peace Out (The Futures Trilogy Book 1) (5 page)

SAMMY AND BECCA

I saw it firsthand. My mother was in the best home we could afford. She didn’t have much left after Dad died. Most of it was gone for his medical bills. I visited her every day after I dropped the kids at school. She was always dressed nicely, bathed, and her hair was done. I saw what it was like for the ones who didn’t have regular visitors. The loneliness. The neglect. I made a point of befriending everyone with rooms near my mother and it helped them a little. But I couldn’t help everyone. Mom went in her sleep after three years at the nursing home. It took us five years to pay off the bills associated with her care. Don’t get me wrong, it was the right thing to do and I don’t regret it at all. It was what she wanted. But I don’t know if that’s the choice I’ll make for myself.

Will You Peace Out?, 2032 Academy Award Winner, Best Documentary. Interview with Nancy Klein, age 72.

Sammy and Becca shared a seat in the middle of the school bus. Mom used to pick them up, but she couldn
’t leave Grandma alone anymore. One time they got home and Grandma was gone, the front door wide open. Mom called Daddy and the police. They searched for her for hours. Finally, just before dark, the police got a call from a guy who was taking a walk with his wife. He had seen Grandma sitting in a ditch. She wasn’t wearing a coat.

He asked her if she was OK, and Grandma nodded, but when he asked her more questions and she didn
’t respond he knew something was wrong. While the guy called the police, his wife ran back to their house for a blanket, which she wrapped around Grandma. Everyone was so relieved.

So Becca and Sammy now took the bus to and from school most days. They didn
’t mind. They enjoyed the extra time with friends. Sammy’s adventure in the Peace Out orchard had given them a little bit of celebrity. She had embellished the tale, adding in a part about seeing a real dead body get buried. Becca let it slide.

Sixth grade was easy. Daddy and Mom let them skip kindergarten because they could already read, write, and do basic math by the time they started. They were hesitant about letting the twins skip again because of social development. School being easy wasn
’t a bad thing. The twins did all their homework while Mr. Eggers talked, so their afternoons and evenings were totally free.

Well, not totally. The twins had music lessons. The teachers came to the house once a week, piano for Becca and violin for Sammy. Of course they had to practice. Mom set a timer for thirty minutes. She paused it every time they stopped playing. At least they could do some practice time together now that they were learning a duet. Daddy took them to gymnastics on Tuesday nights. Their neighbor Mrs. Whiting picked them up every Wednesday for Girl Scouts. Her daughter Christy was friends with the twins.

The school bus pulled up to the twins’ stop. Sammy was zoned out, staring out the window. Becca poked her and the girls grabbed their backpacks and got off the bus.

“What were you thinking about?” asked Becca.

“I wonder when we’re going to get boobs like Christy,” she said.

“Soon, I think,” Becca said.

“I don’t think so,” Sammy said. “Mom didn’t have boobs until high school.”

“How do you know?”

“I looked at her yearbooks the other day.”

“The boys make fun of Christy,” said Becca. “And she told me Levi Mazzo asked to touch them.”

“Did she let him?”

“No. She threatened to sue him.” Mrs. Whiting was a lawyer and Christy was always threatening to sue.

“Oh,” Sammy said, disappointed. She kicked a rock off the sidewalk. “Maybe we’ll get Grandma’s boobs. They’re huge.”

“Grandma was so beautiful,” Becca said. “Did you know she and Grandpa were Homecoming King and Queen?”

“They only told that story about a million times,” Sammy said. The girls arrived at the Bishop driveway. “Race you to the door?” Sammy asked.

“Ready.”

“Set.”

“Go!”
They shouted together. Becca won by a slim margin. Panting, they rang the doorbell.

Mom opened the door. The smell of freshly baked banana bread greeted them.

“Hi Mom!” the girls said. They kicked their shoes off and put them on the rack. Mom helped them hang up their coats.

“Your snack is in the kitchen,” she said. “I put chocolate chips in.”

“Yum,” said Sammy. “Thanks Mom!”

“We have forms for you to fill out,” Becca said, reaching into her backpack. “Mr. Eggers handed them out today. It
’s for Peace Out Education.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” Sammy said. She got out her form too.

Mom took the papers. “I can’t believe they allow this to be taught in schools,” she said. “It’s ridiculous.” She followed the girls into the kitchen and sat down at the table with them. While they ate their banana bread and drank their milk, she completed the forms. “Opt out,” she said firmly, checking the appropriate box.

“I
’ll put them back,” Sammy volunteered.

“How was school today?” Mom asked Becca, getting up to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Fine,” Becca said. “Mr. Eggers is a really good teacher. We played Jeopardy Geography today. The girls beat the boys. We also had art today. Mrs. Mouzakis had oil pastels. There was a vase with a flower in it in the middle of the room and we all had to draw it.”

“It
’s called a still life,” Mom said, sitting back down.

“Where
’s Grandma?” asked Becca.

“She
’s taking a nap,” Mom said.

Sammy came back into the room. “I just put both forms in my bag,” she said. “I
’ll turn them in for us tomorrow.”

“Thanks Sammy,” Becca said.

“Can I have another piece of banana bread?” Sammy asked.

“Will you have room for dinner?” Mom asked. “I have pot roast in the crock pot.”

“I’m really hungry, Mom. I promise.”

“Alright.” Mom cut another piece. “Do you want more, Becca?”

“No thanks,” she said.

“So how was your day, Sammy?” Mom asked. “Becca told me about geography and art.”

“It was good,” Sammy said. “Hey Mom? When did you get boobs? Was it in high school?”

Mom set the plate in front of Sammy. “You mean breasts?” Mom asked. “Boobs is slang. Breasts is the proper word.”

“Yes, breasts,” said Sammy.

“I was about 15,” she said. “Why do you ask? Has someone been talking to you about breasts?”

“Christy got them. Her dad told her the Breast Fairy comes at night with an air pump and sometimes she pumps a lot and sometimes a little.”

“Christy
’s dad has a good sense of humor,” Mom said, “but he is wrong. Breasts are fatty tissue and milk glands. Growing breasts is part of puberty. Your body is getting ready to be able to have babies. So it releases hormones that cause changes in your body.  Like growing breasts and starting your period.”

“Like when you use tampons every month?”

“Yes,” Mom said.

Becca loved how frank her mom was about everything. The twins could ask just about anything and get an answer, sometimes with diagrams and books to read for further information. Peace Out was the one subject she refused to discuss, except to talk about how awful it was. It was weird.

“When will we get breasts?” Sammy asked.

“I
’m not sure,” Mom said. “Grandma developed breasts when she was twelve, so I thought I would too. But mine didn’t grow until I was fifteen. I’m not sure when Nanny developed breasts. I doubt your father ever talked with her about it. Are you worried?”

“A little,” Sammy said.

“You are only ten,” Mom said. “You have at least a few years to wait.”

“I feel like the boys are starting to be different now that Christy has breasts.”

“That is normal,” Mom said. “It is just beginning. This is part of why we won’t let you skip any more grades. You will be in junior high next year and a lot of your friends will start puberty before you. A lot of things will change between boys and girls.”

“Like sex?” The twins had asked about sex the previous year when this girl at school told them that her big sister got pregnant from her boyfriend. Her parents did an embryo transfer to this couple who couldn
’t have babies on their own. Mom and Dad had given them a book on the human reproductive system and explained the mechanics. The twins had taken this newfound information and shared it on the playground, much to the dismay of some of the parents. They weren’t expecting their kids to come home talking about sperm and ovulation. Mom had gotten a few calls. She was unapologetic, but did have a talk to Becca and Sammy about appropriate times for certain topics of conversation.

“Hopefully not sex,” Mom said. “Some kids might do it, but I think you two are smart enough to know that sex is something special between two people who love each other. It can result in pregnancy or disease if done casually. And I think teenagers are too young to experience true love, Shakespeare notwithstanding. Puberty is a rough time for young people. Your body is changing so quickly and the hormones make you moody and irrational.”

“Is that why Grandpa used to say he put you in a barrel until you were 18?” Becca asked.

Mom laughed. “Pretty much,” she said. “I wasn
’t that bad on the scale of things.”

“Grandpa was funny,” Sammy said.

“He was,” Mom agreed. She refilled her coffee. “I know my answers haven’t been the most satisfying,” she said. “Unfortunately, there are many frustrating things about growing up.”

Sammy and Becca helped Mom clear the dishes. While they were loading the dishwasher, Grandma shuffled by and sat down in the den.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mom asked. Without waiting for an answer, she poured a cup of coffee for Grandma and brought it to her. “Girls, do you want to practice your instruments now? Grandma likes to listen.”

“OK, Mom,” Sammy said. She went to get her violin from upstairs.

Becca cuddled up next to Grandma on the couch, lifting Grandma’s arm and putting it around her. “What did you do today?” she asked. There was no answer. “Grandma, I know you miss Grandpa,” she whispered. “I miss him too. But I miss you more. Can you come back to us?” Grandma’s arm tightened for a second, then released.

Sammy opened up her violin case and started putting rosin on her bow. Becca gave Grandma a little hug and went to the piano. Grandma picked up her crochet hook and fumbled in her basket for a skein of yarn.

OLIVIA AND JOE

“Picture this. A dozen people, all on the verge of Peacing Out for one reason or another. All ages. We put them on an island. Some exotic location. Pit them against each other in the usual challenges for food, shelter, water, healthcare, you know. Each week, they vote a loser to Peace Out. Then the ultimate winner gets a buy into the Enclave of his or her choice.”

“Problem. You can
’t make the losers Peace Out.”

“We just video them entering a Center. If they choose not do it, they
’ll have to face the public. That’s on them. We’ll do big profiles of the families of the ones who follow through.”

“I like it. Run it by legal.”

Creative Meeting, 2028, Harvey Samuels Broadcasting Network

After a month on board the Lady Luck, Olivia felt at home. She and Joe had fallen into a routine with Sophie and Ned. They had breakfast together each morning at the Raven
’s Nest. The guys would head to the driving range while the ladies would read or chat by the pool. Ned and Sophie taught them the trick of eating a light lunch. “You’ll gain five pounds a week if you’re not careful,” Sophie had warned.

Sophie had treatments every Monday afternoon and spent her other afternoons resting. Ned always joined her. So Olivia and Joe walked the Lido Deck or lounged by the pool. They talked with at least one grandkid a day. Harriet had lost a tooth and stuck her tongue in the hole to show them. Mason won his elementary school spelling bee with the word “supercilious.” Jacob Junior scored the winning touchdown in his last Pop Warner game.

They ate dinner on their own as often as they had dinner with Ned and Sophie or one of the other couples they had met. Olivia was very glad that Ned and Joe got along so well. They genuinely liked each other, where she could tell Joe was only putting up with the husbands of some of the other women she had befriended.

The ship had nightly entertainment, with performers coming and going at every port. On Fridays the music was strictly ballroom and the dance floor was full. Joe gallantly gave Sophie a few dances each week while Ned kept Olivia company.

The time on board was broken up by the land excursions. So far they had raised glasses in an Irish pub, seen a play in London, and toured Mont Saint-Michel. The next stop was in Lisbon, but they had a few days cruising the Atlantic first.

Joe had periodic appointments with his doctor to manage his pain, but for the most part Olivia could sometimes fool herself into believing that he wasn
’t dying. That they were just on a fancy trip. Then he would get short of breath or suddenly so tired she had to help him get to the nearest chair to sit and rest.

Those were the bad days. When the knowledge of his mortality bore down on her and she could scarcely breathe. During those times, she comforted herself with the image of Joe and her holding hands, Peacing Out together.

On good days he was her Joe. The man she adored. The man she couldn’t and wouldn’t imagine living without.

“Do you want sugar?” Sophie asked, breaking Olivia
’s reverie. A server was standing in front of them with two glasses of iced tea on a tray.

“No thanks,” Olivia said.

“I’m fine too,” Sophie said. The man set down the glasses and headed back to the bar.

“What are you reading?” Sophie asked.

“Nothing,” Olivia said, looking down at her tablet, which had gone black. “I was just enjoying the sun.”

“Me too,” Sophie said. “For a while I was trying to read all the greats. You know, the hundred books to read before you die. But I realized that most of them are horribly boring. Now I
’ve found a trashy detective novel with a vampy femme fatale. Much better.”

“I was checking the news. But it is all so depressing. What do I care about a teenage movie star who has given herself a purple mohawk and married a professional ping pong player?”

“You could avoid the entertainment section.”

“That leaves me with politics, sports, and natural disasters.”

“That is why I avoid the news altogether,” Sophie declared. She paused for a moment. “Say, Olivia? Would you come with me to my treatment today? Ned can’t make it.”

“What
’s he doing?”

“He has a call that he has to take.”

“I thought Ned was retired,” Olivia said.

“Oh, he is,” Sophie said, “but men like Ned never retire. If the case is big enough they
’ll call him in to consult.” Ned had been a famous lawyer in Washington D.C. before returning to his home country for retirement. Olivia had never heard of him, but Joe had recognized his name. Ned had apparently argued multiple cases before the Supreme Court, including one that impacted insurance companies. Joe had been in the insurance business.

“Of course I
’ll come,” Olivia said. “I’ll let Joe know when they get back from the driving range.”

“Thanks Olivia,” Sophie said. The ladies returned to their reading.

Olivia skimmed the headlines. “Oh, you’re kidding,” she exclaimed.

“What?” Sophie asked.

“They’re rebooting that Peace Out show from the thirties,” she said, touching the headline. The full article appeared. Olivia read aloud. “Somebody Save Me will feature four desperate individuals each week. They will extend their plea to you, America. Your votes over the next week will determine the winner, who will receive life-saving medical treatments or a lifetime buy into an Enclave, courtesy of Burkheim Insurance. But your vote can also be a pledge of any amount. See results in real time on the website. If your pick doesn’t win, but receives enough pledges to pay for treatments or Enclave fees, your card will automatically be charged the amount you pledged and additional lives will be saved! You could be Somebody!”

“I
’ve never heard of that show,” Sophie said.

“It ran for one season,” Olivia said. “I took a Peace Out history course in college. Something must have changed though if they
’re bringing it back.”

“Why?”

“The show got canceled because Peace Out wouldn’t let any show participants Peace Out. They made pledges on the last day of voting. So everyone was saved. Every week.”

“What
’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Olivia said, “But the ratings dropped significantly once people realized that no one was going to die.”

“That’s horrible,” Sophie said.

“What
’s horrible?” Ned asked, walking up with Joe.

“This television show,” Olivia said, handing Ned her tablet.

He scrolled through the article, brow furrowed. “Well, at least they know better than to mention Peace Out,” he said. “I’m talking with their general counsel today. I’m sure she knows about this already, but I’m going to flag it.”

“Olivia says it is a reboot of a show from the thirties,” Sophie said. “What
’s horrible is that the old show was canceled because Peace Out was saving the losers!”

“It was probably the cheapest publicity Peace Out has ever bought,” Joe said. “Not that cost matters to them. They have more money than God.”

“I think God’s holdings are a bit more extensive,” Ned said, “But Peace Out definitely comes close.”

Sophie laughed. “How about some lunch?” she asked. “Then I
’m borrowing Olivia for the afternoon,” she informed Joe. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I downloaded a new book this morning and that lounge chair over there is calling my name.”

Olivia had been down to the hospital with Joe, but never into the chemo ward. She sat with Sophie while the nurse hooked her up to the machines. The doctor came by to chat and check things over.

“It takes about an hour,” Sophie said, leaning back and closing her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Olivia was hesitant. “Is there a chance?”

“That I
’ll live?” Sophie asked. “A very, very small one. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. I honestly think if Ned wasn’t able to pay for all this that the doctors would have told us to give up. Ned isn’t the giving up kind.” Sophie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “These treatments make me nauseated. Usually Ned talks while I focus on keeping my lunch down.”

“I
’m sorry,” Olivia said. “What should I talk about?”

“Tell me about your kids,” Sophie said. “Jake is the oldest right?”