Shymers (6 page)

In the beginning, I tried to avoid my little sister, Claire. Not only would she be here for just a short time, but the arrival of their DOD would be all the more difficult if we were to become close. Still, I became quite fond of her. She was kind and pretty, with wide blue eyes and silky blond hair. Regardless of our gloomy household, she was always smiling or giggling about something.

More than anything, Claire loved to sing. Her voice was high and she chirped like a songbird. Our father taught her songs he remembered from when he was a boy, warning her that she was not to sing them when at school or when out in public. Old world music was banned based on the government’s belief that the words were causing Rebels to act out.

I never understood how Claire could be so happy all the time, knowing she would die just after seven short years on this earth. No matter how hard I tried to be like her, the happiness always felt forced and I would return to the sour attitude that encompassed the rest of our family.

When I first attended school and met those who would live to be adults like my parents, I finally understood why my father and grandfather’s hatred for the government had been so severe. Not only were the Futures considered more important by our teachers and given more favorable treatment, but their parents would throw them big celebrations every year on their birthdays. Rather than celebrating the day we were born, Shymers keep track of how many years closer we are to our death. It is not a celebration by any means, but a way of remembering just how much longer we have left.

The closer my parents and siblings came to their shared DOD, the angrier I became with the system and the ways of Society. The anger festered and grew until it consumed me whole. That’s when I decided I was going to find a way to stop the government.

When I was fourteen, I met a Shymer named Edgar who planned to join the Rebels. He was spirited unlike anyone I had ever met. Tall and gangly, he wore his dark hair parted down the middle and pushed behind his ears. Everything that came out of Edgar’s mouth was a joke. I didn’t think he took anything in life seriously. Because of this, I didn’t believe him at first when he said he was leaving for the Free Lands.

When I realized he was serious, I decided I would go along. My brother, sister and parents would be dead before long, anyway, and I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.

I was so close to going through with our plan that I tried giving each of my family members a subtle goodbye. I found a thick red ribbon at school made with a heavy fabric and gave it to Claire, kissing her on the head when she squealed happily at her new treasure. I left Simon the belt buckle that had been passed down to me from our Grandpa Red, telling him a better nickname for him would have been “Little Red,” since he reminded my father so much of our grandfather in spirit. My brother only looked back at me questioningly.

While sitting in the basement with my father the night before, I wordlessly leaned forward to embrace him. A moment passed before he was able to get past the shock and his arms wrapped around me in return. I had never hugged anyone before that day.

While I finished packing the last of my things that night, my mother knocked on the door of my room. She entered looking exhausted as always from a day of working at a clothing factory in the Future territory. Her hair hung around her narrow face in messy bursts, and her eyes were weary. I tried many times to get a job so she wouldn’t have to work so hard, but no one wanted to hire a young boy—especially not a Shymer.

From the knowing expression on her face that night, there was no use in hiding the bag—she was on to me. “That pack belonged to your Grandpa Red,” she said.

“I know.” I plopped down on my bed and she sat beside me. When I turned to her, I noticed for the first time just how bright her blue, almond-shaped eyes were up close, and how the lines at their edges were becoming deeply creased. Ever since that day, I am reminded when I look in a mirror of how she looked as she sat on my bed. My eyes are almost identical in shape and color to hers.

“Joining the Rebels is not the answer,” she said gently. Her lips turned up in the smallest of smiles and she reached out and rest her hand on mine. Since physical affection is rare among Shymers, her unusual gesture came as a surprise.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I muttered. My head hung in shame. I could no longer look at her for fear that I would cry. “I try to be strong like you, and I try to be happy like Claire, but all I can think about is how unfair the government is. Grandpa Red was right. This way of life is wrong. We shouldn’t have to live like this. I should have done something sooner to change things for us—to make life happier for our entire family.”

“Listen to me,” my mother said, tilting my chin to her. “You may think I’m strong, but I’m not. I’m
a
cowar
d
,
Harrison. I’ve been a coward all my life. I am the one who should have done something. I should have run away with you and your siblings—raised you in the Free Lands and kept you hidden from Society.”

“It wasn’t safe,” I insisted, shaking my head.

She set her hands in her lap and played with her plain gray skirt. Although parents of Shymers sometimes dress in bright colors and patterns like the Futures, my mother had always dressed the same as my little sister—plain enough to go unnoticed. My mother was actually quite stunning, but never saw herself as so. When I was younger I used to tell her how beautiful she was. She would just laugh and say I was a silly boy.

“Your father wanted to run away, Harrison. He knew people who lived in the Free Lands and he had even heard of safe ways to cross over the border. Though I wanted that kind of carefree life for my children, I was too afraid of being caught. I was afraid of messing up somehow and having all of you placed in suspension for the rest of your lives. Worse yet, I was afraid all of you would be placed in an orphanage.”

I gaped at her. My quiet mother never once spoke out against Society, or spoke of her hopes and fears. “Please,” she pleaded. “Don’t do this, Harrison. Don’t go. It’s too dangerous.”

I balled my fists up and squeezed my eyes tight to stop the tears from coming. “I don’t want to leave you so close to your DOD, but you have no idea how frustrating it is to sit around and count down the days until my entire family is taken away from me. It’s killing me! Maybe if I joined the Rebels…”

“They won’t be able to do anything soon enough, Harrison. Our time left is very limited, and I want my son to be with me up to the end.” She slipped her fingers through mine and gave me a glowing smile. But there was no hiding the sadness that had settled in her eyes. “I’m asking you to stay—for me.”

So I agreed to stay. My friend Edgar still left the next morning as we had planned. Days afterward I heard that he didn’t make it to the border before he was caught and placed in suspension. There were even rumors circulating at school that he would be put to death. A new guilt formed with this news—guilt for not going with my friend and for letting him go alone when I probably could have helped.

Days before my family’s DOD, my parents pulled Simon and Claire from school to work on the things they wanted to do before they died. I refused to make a playlist for myself, only because Society expected it from us. I was not going to do something the very system I hated told us we should do.

The morning I knew they would die, I begged my mother to let me stay home from school. My parents refused, knowing I would be suspended for doing so. Our goodbyes that morning at the shuttle were laced with tears. I shook so badly I could hardly stand when my father and mother each hugged me. Before the shuttle tore me away from them, my father handed me the pack with Grandpa Red’s book inside.

“Keep this hidden somewhere safe,” he said. “There is a lot of history in this book that can’t be forgotten. It’s important you don’t forget who you are, Harrison.”

I was unable to speak through my tears and nodded, clutching the pack to my chest. My mother reached up to throw her arms around my neck, bringing me close. “Don’t run, Harrison. I know you are angry at Society and you have your Grandpa Red’s ideas floating around up there in your head, but I don’t want you to die for a cause that will never amount to anything. Try to live the rest of your life happy, my sweet boy. Be brave.”

The last time I ever saw my little sister, she was grinning from ear to ear and waving wildly at me. I waved back although my heart was breaking into a million pieces.

That day was excruciatingly long. It was difficult not to break down during lessons with the reality that I would never see my family again. Once school was finished, I ran the entire way from the shuttle to our home, my heart hammering wildly in my chest and tears blurring my path. When I reached the spot where our house should have been, there was nothing more than a pile of metal and ashes. My entire life was gone. All that remained of my family was the pack I held with my grandfather’s book.

Since their deaths, I have mostly kept to myself, making only a handful of new friends. Living in an orphanage is the nightmare I had expected. I have very little to look forward to with each day that passes, inching me closer to my DOD. My hatred for Society has grown sevenfold. The only thing keeping me from running is my mother’s final wish.

* * *

I stand in line for the tasteless breakfast I have learned to expertly choke down over the years when Zeke—one of my only friends in the orphanage—charges straight for me. His hair seems exceptionally greasy this morning. I sometimes wonder if he showers every day, or if there is some kind of imbalance that makes it that way. I think his appearance disgusts even some of the other Shymers.

Once in front of me, he grabs my elbow and whispers, “Did you hear there was a new girl brought here in the middle of the night?”

I shake my head and shrug. “So what?” Newbies at the orphanage is certainly nothing new. It happens on almost a daily basis. Sometimes they are like me, with nowhere else to go after their parents die. Other times, parents are doing well in the Future territory and have to leave their Shymer children behind. There have only been a few instances when a Future child was brought here, and it was always just a temporary arrangement until they were adopted by a wealthy family.

“She’s from th
e
Free Land
s
,” Zeke whispers excitedly.

A sudden curiosity and blinding jealousy fill me. How could a girl survive in the Free Lands? Was she alone? Was she caught trying to get there? The mixture of feelings is so overwhelming that I have to remind myself to breathe. I search the cafeteria, but don’t see anyone unfamiliar.

“Well, where is she?” I ask, turning back to him.

“She was taken early to register for school. Her mother was placed in suspension last night.” Zeke’s excitement comes as no surprise. He is all for the ways of Society. I only became his friend when I realized no one else would talk to him. I have never told him of my hatred for Society, or my secret wish to join the Rebels. Just having rebellious thoughts could land me into suspension, and I wouldn’t put it past Zeke to report me.

I pick through my breakfast while Zeke talks excitedly about this new girl. His words become a blur when my own thoughts consume me. How long had this girl been living in the Free Lands? Zeke said her mother was placed in suspension, but what about her father? Does she know everything about the ways of Society? She must be a Shymer. Why else would she have been in the Free Lands?

During the rest of the morning I am still lost in my thoughts while keeping an eye out at school for anyone who looks out of place. I think between classes I catch a glimpse of a girl I haven’t seen before, but her hair is blond and held back behind her head in the style a Future would wear.

At lunchtime I join the usual group of Shymers I have known most of my life. We have gone to school together since we were quite little, but I can’t really say that any of them are my actual friends. They continue inviting me to hang with their group, even though they are used to my silence.

Kai smirks my way. She is considered highly unusual by Shymers and Futures both. No one holds any sympathy for her, however. She purposely tries standing out with her illegal habits and strange jewelry on her face. She even shows her Shymer mark in plain view, although it is considered shameful. Still, she seems to hate Society as much as I do, so I actually kind of like being around her.

“Have you met this girl yet?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“Bree met her this morning. She’s bringing her here to meet us.”

Although I would never admit it to Kai, a small thrill of excitement races through me. I may actually meet someone who made it to the Free Lands, even if only for a short time. I pick at my lunch in silence until Bree comes into view. Sure enough, there is a girl at her side. Surprisingly, i
t
i
s
the girl I spotted earlier in the hallway with blond hair swept into a band behind her head.

As the twosome draw nearer, I gulp in more air. Wisps of darker blond hair stick out next to the new girl’s freckle covered face. The pink top she wears isn’t something revealing like a Future would wear, and not the drab color the Shymers are known to use, either. My eyes wander to her bare skin, shimming in the sunlight over the smooth muscles of her arms and legs. She smiles brightly, reminding me of the cheerful ways of my little sister.