Chosen

Chapter 2

Traditionally, the Chief is a woman, with the title being passed from mother to daughter. Since my beloved grandmother Chief Juniper only had a son, she chose him for the job when he was seventeen and broke the female tradition in favor of keeping it in the family. As Crane's only daughter, the community will go back to tradition with my appointment as an apprentice to the Chief, before taking over the role myself.

The thought makes my stomach turn.

Ever since I can remember, he has been Crane to me. Never dad, not even when my mother died when I was about four years old and he became my only parent. I spent my youth being held at arm's length, always a cool distance between us. The only so-called quality time we spend together centers around private training sessions. Sessions meant to prepare me to be Chief.

I make it to my living unit, which I moved into when I was twelve. Most people wait until they're Chosen to live alone, but this was something both Crane and I agreed to do as soon as my training started. He wanted me to learn independence early. I wanted to get away from him.

The room is small, stark, and minimal, but it is mine. It has uniform gray walls and standard-issue crisp white sheets, a door leading to the tiny bathroom in the back with a desk beside it. The only personal effect in sight is a photo perched on the desk, picturing a small toddler holding hands with a strawberry blonde woman, both laughing. It is my mother and me, two weeks before she died. People say I look like her, but my hair is a darker auburn color, and my eyes look darker too. She's lighter than I was, in both looks and personality. I touch the frame and slide my trainee badge next to it.

My stomach rumbles, so I leave my unit and walk up to the dining hall for the evening meal. Just inside the entry doors I step on the scale to confirm my weight and food allotment. Then I go through the line and collect my chicken, beans, dinner roll, and small apple from the meal supervisors. There is always just enough to sustain us, never more than that. With the lack of viable space to grow crops and raise animals in our mostly underground community, every inch is carefully allotted to make sure all the people can be fed well-rounded meals year-round.

I press my thumb to the scanner at the end of the line to confirm I received my meal and turn to find a seat at one of the tables. Scanning the room, I spy my best friend Jay in the corner. He catches my eye once he senses me looking at him and wiggles his eyebrows at me, beans falling off his fork in the process. We are in the same year and have been friends since we were four, when he pushed down another kid for stealing my blocks in the day care playroom. Jay wants to be a builder. He's always been good with his hands, despite being pretty clumsy in every other aspect of his life. He is also one of the few genuinely good natured people I've ever known here, and balances out my more serious side. I couldn't imagine a life without Jay. It feels like he knows me better than I know myself.

I grin at him as I slide into the seat on his left, picking a stray bean off his sleeve and tucking it in the corner of his napkin. He shakes back his messy mop of sandy hair and grins sheepishly. "Oops," he says as he nudges me with his shoulder, causing my bite of chicken to slip off of my own fork and, luckily, back onto my plate.

"Jay, stop it!" I exclaim, smacking his arm. "They don't give second helpings, you know."

"Alright, alright, relax," he turns back to his meal and keeps eating. "So, you ready to be chosen?"

"No," I sigh and scoop up another forkful of chicken.

Jay is the only person who knows how I feel about the Choosing. He gives me a reassuring smile. "I bet you'll find time to slip away every now and then."

"Yeah, sure." I mumble after I take a sip of my water, then start shredding my dinner roll to bits.

Jay chuckles a little. "You know, after a few years nobody will be able to tell you what you can and can't do." He puts his hand over mine, stopping my annihilation of the bread.

I give him a tired look and he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before pulling away. He knows how I feel about becoming the chief.

I decide to change the subject back to Jay. "Well, are you ready for the Choosing?"

"Too late if I'm not, right?" Jay shovels more food into his mouth. It's easy for him to have such a blasé attitude, since he's been the new construction Master Milo's favorite for awhile now. He doesn't have anything to worry about. Except maybe his liking for coming up with designs that violate our strict building regulations. His ideas are creative and amazing, but impossible with the materials and tools we have, not to mention being underground.

Tomorrow the Masters and the Chief gather to go over five years' worth of training. Nobody reveals their choices, even if people know what most of them will be anyway. Then they will do the official drawing, which will determine the order in which they will Choose the following day.

Jay and I finish our dinner and put our dishes on the belt for cleaning. "So, what do you want to do, play cards?" He asks as we walk toward the exit.

"Not tonight, we have mopping duty in Hallway 3C, remember?" I shake my head. Jay always forgets his chore schedule. Without me he'd be in trouble all the time.

"Oh, right. Onward then!" He bounds toward the exit, knocks into a couple chairs and almost banging his lanky frame against the edge of a table.

Tonight's cleaning duty is in the academic wing. Since cleaning is deemed essential but too much work to assign official jobs for, everyone in the community has cleaning chores several times a month, along with being required to clean their own living units each week. I have a feeling the chore supervisor makes sure Jay and I are always assigned together. Whether that's so we could keep each other company or if they want me to keep Jay out of trouble, I'll never know.

We report to the storage area for cleaning supplies. I pull out a worn bucket and start to fill it with water, mixing in a precisely measured cup of soap. More and more these days, it seems like we're somehow running out of everything, so our supplies are carefully rationed. Jay grabs a couple of mops and we're on our way.

Jay and I mop most of the hallway in amicable silence. Hallway 3C is in one of the few old buildings left, and I love the rusty colored tiles and soft toned walls. It makes a nice change from the standard issue gray cinder blocks and cement that make up most of the buildings that have been dug out of the ground over time.

I mop in neat strokes behind Jay, who sloppily pushes puddles of water around. "You know, with you around I never have to dip my mop in the bucket. It really saves time," I poke him in the back with my mop handle as we near the end of the hall.

He sticks his tongue out at me. "You're just jealous of my professional mopping skills," he jokes as he whips his mop out of the bucket with a flourish, splashing water on my shoes.

"Oh you're right, I stand corrected." I say as I hop on one foot, trying and failing to wipe my shoes on Jay's jeans. "You're the best mopper in the community. That should be your official job."

Jay grins and tosses the mop back onto the cleaning cart, leaving me to finish properly. "Oh c'mon El, you know you love me."

I grin back. "Of course I do Jay, who wouldn't?"

He looks at me, holding my gaze with his warm brown eyes for a second before jumping behind the cart. "C'mon, race you to the supply closet!"

Ever indulgent to Jay's enthusiasm, I smile as I follow him down the hall, mopping up his spilled water as I go.