The Registry (9 page)
“We won’t be able to walk another whole night,” Mia answered.
“I’m fine to keep walking,” Whitney said, but Mia knew she was lying. Whitney was still programmed to listen to everything Andrew said and be agreeable. Both girls needed to start thinking differently if they were going to make it to Mexico.
“No, you’re not,” Mia said. “Your shoes are about to give out; the soles are coming loose and they’re making a strange noise.”
Whitney lifted up her feet and noticed the wear and tear on her shoes.
“We can’t walk all the way to the border. We are going to have to hitch a ride. We should do it when the sun’s up. When there are cars on the road,” Mia said.
Mia was happy; Andrew appeared to be pondering her contribution. She was capable of generating an idea, and her best one had come from just listening. He didn’t look very pleased, but he nodded in agreement.
“Make sure you keep your hats on and stare at the ground. Don’t make eye contact and don’t say a word,” Andrew said. Then he pointed at Whitney and continued. “We need to keep moving; be aware of your shoe situation and if your feet start to hurt, say something.” Whitney nodded in response.
“What if nobody comes?” Whitney asked.
“We’re on a main trucking route. We’ll get picked up within the hour,” Andrew said.
Mia expected Whitney to be happy about getting out of walking, but instead her friend just looked worried. Mia could tell Whitney doubted her plan; she put her arm around her and gave her a squeeze for encouragement, but it didn’t seem to ease Whitney’s nerves.
Time may change the state of war, and it may be difficult to tell who the battle is against, but one thing always remains constant: you are becoming a citizen of the greatest country in the world, and all other nations are in some ways enemies.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
S
top screaming. It’s just a truck.” Andrew was getting frustrated with his charges. Neither girl had ever seen a truck before. Both found them unpleasant and loud. “You’re boys now; act like it.”
The young ladies tried to stand straight up and imitate Andrew. He was not amused. Mia snuck Whitney a sly smile and they both started to laugh. Andrew didn’t believe they were taking the situation seriously. He debated lecturing them but decided it wasn’t worth it. If there was one thing he had learned about women during his time with Mia and Whitney, it was that they were stubborn and didn’t want to listen. This was the exact opposite of what he’d expected.
He glanced over at the girls. Both of them looked happy, like they were eagerly awaiting the next truck to drive by so they could scream and grab each other again. Andrew couldn’t recall the last time someone had grabbed him in a loving, protective way. He strained to remember, but he doubted it had ever happened. It was more important to survive in the world; he couldn’t waste his time focusing on others.
And yet, he was surprised by an urge to wrap his arms around Mia and Whitney, to join in their fun. He debated squeezing their shoulders with a friendly grip, apologizing for his anger, and maybe even getting on the receiving end of those smiles. But before he had the opportunity to act on his feelings, his brain began to tear those thoughts down. He knew it was a waste of time and he needed to focus his energy back on survival.
It wasn’t just for him this time; he had to think about their safety, too. Nothing had prepared him for this scenario. He was more than ready to protect himself and his country. The only woman whose safety should be a concern to him was his wife, and he was a long way off from having that luxury.
He had envisioned his future bride like he’d envisioned all women: simple, helpful, and obedient. He had never anticipated running into any problems with her, but the more time he spent around Mia and Whitney, the more his imaginary wife was disappearing. Part of him knew they were just as worthy of his protection as his country was, even though these thoughts were unpatriotic and possibly treasonous. The image of Grant grabbing Mia had angered him to his core. He had tried to let go of the anger, but it stayed with him. He couldn’t be the type of man who let that happen; she needed to get away from him. And the sooner he could drop them off, the sooner he could shift his focus back to himself. Someone needed to take their trip seriously. He may have become an unwilling protector, but he was going to protect them nonetheless.
Another truck zoomed by and again Mia and Whitney let out little screams and huddled together.
“Stop it.” Andrew turned to stare both of them down. He watched as the glint of happiness faded from their faces.
The quiet made it easier for him to concentrate. He stuck his hand back out, hoping to get off this road and away from them.
Females mature much faster than males. Girls must avoid unserved boys, as contact would only threaten a girl’s growth and development.
—The Registry Guide for Girls
I
am sorry about your eye,” Mia said.
“It’s okay. It makes me look more like a man,” Whitney said with a fake gruff voice.
The sun was starting to cause sweat to pour through their clothes. Whitney did make a pretty convincing boy. Her hair clung tight and short to her head. The dark hair on her arms helped her stay in character. Mia didn’t think it was a good idea to compliment her on this transformation.
“The sun is brutal.” Mia took off her cap to wipe her brow.
“Leave your hat on,” Andrew said. “Without it you don’t look like a boy. You look like a teenage girl trying to start a new fashion trend. We’ll end up caught.”
Mia was surprised he’d spoken again so soon. She knew that his words were meant as an insult, but she found herself smiling nonetheless. Whitney even grinned, too. Mia could tell she was relaxing. Whitney always liked to plan; when they were young and would imagine their weddings Mia always cared more about what to wear and how to style her hair, while Whitney took more joy in scheduling out the day’s possible activities. Mia was certain Whitney’s brain was back to planning an imaginary timetable of their trip.
As the next truck started to whiz by Andrew stuck up his thumb and waved his arms. The semi just gave a loud honk as it sped by, making Andrew stumble a bit. Mia looked at Whitney with a small smile and let out another little yelp as the machine passed. She didn’t care if Andrew was angered by their antics; they were having fun. She wished he could relax and join them, even if just for a moment.
Second and third trucks were already visible in the distance. The land was so flat it was easy to see them as they approached.
Within minutes, a large semi stopped on the side of the road. Andrew jumped up on the passenger side and greeted the driver. Mia and Whitney stared at the ground as instructed. Mia tried to listen but couldn’t make out anything they were talking about. Her nerves were back. She wanted to reach out and grab Whitney’s hand, but that would draw too much attention from their new benefactor. Young men didn’t hold hands.
After a short wait the driver jumped out of his seat and walked toward the back of his truck. Andrew walked toward the two girls.
“You two have to ride in the back. Don’t worry, I’ll be in the front with him,” Andrew said.
“Where is he taking us?” Mia asked in a low voice. She felt nerves shoot all over her body. She questioned whether this was a good idea.
“South. He’s going to drop us as far down as he’s going. You’ll be stuck back there for about four hours or so.”
Both girls nodded, but Mia had no clue how far south he would drop them. She thought back to Whitney’s map and wondered if they were out of the “Iowa” place. She knew it was the wrong time to ask and Andrew signaled for them to go to the back of the truck, where their driver was waiting.
“Don’t touch anything or I’ll give you boys a whipping,” the trucker told the girls as he opened the back. Mia glanced up at him. He looked sickly, skinny, and dirty, with hair almost as long as hers had been. She looked away, trying to avoid eye contact.
A sickening smell flooded everyone’s noses. It was a mix between sulfur and rotten food.
“Don’t be shy. What are you waiting for? An invitation? You’ll get used to the smell soon enough. I’m hauling manure,” the driver said.
Mia hid her disgust and was the first to climb in the truck. She swung her leg up several times before sliding in on her belly, wishing she had asked Andrew the manly way to climb into the back. Whitney fared no better trying to enter the cargo space. The trucker gave Andrew a look before shaking his head and slamming the door.
“Your friends are weird,” he said.
I
t was pitch-black in the container. Both Mia and Whitney chose to huddle toward the front of the truck. It seemed there was less of the smell in this area. They were tired and Mia had a feeling sleep would come soon. As her eyes began to close, Whitney spoke.
“You like him, don’t you?”
“He’s kind of mean to me.” Mia saw Andrew only as a means to an end.
“It’s okay if you do. I don’t have any romantic feelings for him. He’s too young for me. I know he’s more your type. But I still like the attention. I don’t think any man has paid as much attention to me as he has,” Whitney said. Mia thought she sounded sincere.
“Well, it’s not as if we know many men,” Mia said. “Besides, what about your father?”
“I think he’s happy I’m gone. I bet he won’t even look for me.”
“Well, do you think maybe he wanted you to feel that way so you would run? You suggested that before. Maybe he wanted a better life for you?” Mia asked. She did wonder about Whitney’s father. She assumed Corinna had smuggled the article from someone at finishing school, but maybe others knew the evil ways of the Registry but were too scared to act.
It was very dark in the truck, but Mia swore she could see Whitney smiling at that thought.
“What is ‘Iowa’?” Mia whispered.
“We live in America,” Whitney said. “This place used to be made up of different countries, before we were just areas. The Midwest Area used to be several countries, the Southeast Area used to be several countries. Now the names of the countries are meaningless. We’re just one big group.”
“All the different countries agreed to the Registry system?” Mia found this unacceptable.
“Or they were overpowered, I’m not sure.”
“How do you know this?”
Whitney’s intellect always surprised Mia.
“We’ve moved. I heard my father mention the different countries to people. ‘We’re from Michigan,’ or ‘We traveled through Wisconsin.’ I asked him what he was talking about,” Whitney explained. “And then that map I found, of course.”
“How come you never told me any of this before?” Mia had always thought the two were close.
Whitney chuckled softly at the question. “You never asked. You never cared,” she said. “I know something happened to you; people don’t just change overnight for no reason. It was a few months back; all of a sudden you were interested in different things. Asking questions about the world instead of my opinion on hairstyles. What happened? You can tell me.”
Mia sighed. She knew Whitney had the right to know about the article. She struggled to form the words. She felt as if telling Whitney would make the situation more real. It would make Corinna really dead. Without speaking about it, Mia was able to convince herself her sister might be all right, that she just ran off again, this time to safety. Telling Whitney would send that illusion crashing down. Plus she risked Whitney’s not believing the article’s information; Corinna hadn’t till she experienced it firsthand, and Mia still struggled to accept it. But she knew it was just a matter of time anyway.
Mia took a deep breath and was about to explain herself when all of a sudden the truck came to a stop. Mia welcomed the distraction and walked over to the side of the cargo area to look through an unblocked nail hole.
“What’s going on?” Whitney asked from right behind her.
“I’m not sure. I think we stopped.”
“We’ve been driving for about fifteen minutes! We haven’t traveled that far south, have we?” Whitney asked.
“I don’t think we’ve moved very far,” Mia said. She had a feeling something was going wrong. A pit started to form in her stomach. She signaled to Whitney to quiet down.
It is your duty to serve this country. Your entire preservice life gives you the strength necessary to survive the military. The harsher the world is to you, the easier your time in service will be. Being the strongest, bravest, and fastest soldier transfers those qualities over to your country.
—The Boy’s Guide to Service
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o what’s your story?” the trucker asked.
“Don’t have one yet.” Andrew hated this part of hitchhiking. “You?”
“Name’s Scott. But you can call me Scooter if you like. Just living the dream.”
“Where are you from?” asked Andrew.
“The navy. Best four years of my life. Wish I could have stayed in longer. My biggest mistake was leaving. Always reenlist. Now it’s just me and Carrie here.” Scott patted the steering wheel. “I named my truck, she’s practically my wife. I’m just driving cross-country, trying to save up for a real one. I already got about twenty thousand dollars saved, and that’s just in four years. I think once I hit a hundred thousand, I’m going to start shopping.”
“Oh?” Andrew replied.
“You need decent money to get a decent wife. I don’t know anyone willing to pay less than twenty thousand, but I think I can do better. I’m not a bad-looking man.” Scott smiled, showing his rotten teeth. “If I get a nice-looking gal maybe I can retire off my daughters.”
“So you live in your truck?” Andrew asked. He didn’t want to talk about the Registry.