Tobin
I've been tried. Tested. I've been pushed to my limits. I've had people I knew since I was an infant die, powerless to do anything. I completed every task they gave me; starving, thirsty, fatigued, alone, and confused.
I fought. Hard. And I survived. Through all the doubt and the assaults, through all those weakening challenges, I survived.
All I wanted was to be outside, after all that. Live, of course, but also be able to hear the soft swaying of the grass and the loud barks of the sheepdogs. I wanted to smell the herbs, the fruit, the flowers, the dirt, and to feel the wind and sun against my skin.
I was able to push myself through. They wanted adaptation, so I trekked through a forest for a month with minimal supplies. They wanted perseverance, so I crossed a fast-moving river after having almost drowned. They wanted selflessness, so I prepared myself for death just to let my companions keep going.
I did all that. No one thought I would be able to, but I did. What did I get from it? The lowest paying job in the whole city.
I stand in the grocer's, behind the huge wooden counter that used to intimidate me. Back here are boxes, chests, shelves, and stone cubbies in the wall. All contain food. All I've had to memorize during my five months working here.
In the grocer's, we work in pairs. One person takes charge of the desk. They make sure that the ration cards people hand them are legitimate, and if so, they hand over provisions. The other person, me, is in charge of bringing those provisions to the front desk. My partner, Finch, had worked long and hard at this job, hoping to impress the Powers and switch out to something she'd much rather do. Needless to say, she knows the grocer's like the back of her hand and helped me navigate when I was a newcomer. Now, I can walk the stone room on my own.
Lucky for me, too, because Finch hasn't shown up for work today.
That's unusual. I'm not the only one who thinks so, either. I hear a few of my coworkers gossiping among each other about it. One suspects she is sick. Another deadly virus; they wouldn't just let her stay home if it was a cold. I hope nothing like that happened to her. Like me, all she wants is to work aboveground.
Until she shows up, I can't do much in terms of my during-hours job, so I start on some of my closing tasks. There is a small room where the gardeners place foodstuffs for us to restock the shelves with. They bring new things from the Aboveground or from storage twice a week.
I start dragging a heavy box into the main room. Open it up. Potatoes. I slide the box over to the big wooden crate we have designated for the roots and start piling the new ones in.
I hate this job. Some people love it, but I don't see the appeal. All this mindless labour for barely enough rations to live off of. I hate being surrounded by so much food. At least a gardener gets paid more, can afford more. Here, I fill buckets with nuts and fresh fruits and fish--all things I could never hope to purchase myself. My stomach growls. All I've eaten today was a small chunk of grainy bread.
All my other friends lucked out. The Powers honoured their efforts in the game, and for that they were guaranteed whatever job they wanted. Apparently our team wracked up the most points. Well, except for me.
Torch is training to be a guard. No surprise there. She won't start earning rations for another week or two, though, so our family is living off of just what my mother and I earn. Zeik is working under his father at the library--again, no surprise. He says he really loves that job. I'm happy for him. Salem is in training, like Torch, but as a medic. I've shared a few words with Hinter, who was able to switch from being a gardener to a medic this year, and apparently he's the top of his class. Although, she said his bedside manners need much improvement.
Who I'm really jealous of is Zephyr. He was able to snag a spot as a Corral worker. I feel proud--as if I myself landed that job. It's all he ever wanted. He made a deal with Salem's father, the head worker at the Corral, that he'd make sure to keep the barn clean if Axial never put him on butcher duty. With a chuckle, Salem's father complied.
Though my job sucks, I've never been happier. Any tension that once existed between my teammates and I has dissipated. Even between my sister and I. Every night we sit in our living room together, waiting for the fire to die, and talk about our lives. Sometimes Mother will join us, but usually she takes an early night. I think having two working children is making her feel old.
Zephyr and Salem are the only ones having a hard time reconnecting. Zeph is the most loyal person I've ever met, so five years later he still isn't taking Salem's betrayal lightly. Part of me is touched, because that just proves how amazing a friend to me he is, but the other part not so much. It's hard. They both get jealous.
"Hey, Tobin?"
I'm shook from my thoughts. I stop unpacking potatoes and turn to face my caller, smiling. "Hey, Couth," I greet. I barely see him around; I've been a very busy person and our paths don't usually cross. It's too bad, really. Couth is one of the few people who doesn't treat me like either a miracle or a curse. "I didn't know they let gardeners behind the counter."
He doesn't respond right away. I hear him shift.
"Yeah, see, that's what I need to talk to you about." He sounds like he doesn't know how to approach what he wants to tell me. I wait. "I, um, well, you know my arm--"
I nod.
"Okay. Well, I wasn't really needed at work during the snow, but now that they've started seeding, they've, uh, decided I'm too slow." He pauses. "...So, they kind of demoted me. And, well, Finch? She kind of got...promoted."
I have mixed feelings. One the one hand, I'm shocked--I always thought that Couth's survival had proved his worth to the Powers. I suppose, like with me, they broke the rules.
The other part of me is an impossible mixture of joy and sadness. Finch never talked down to me--never--and we mused about our lives in the future, when we finally could spend our days aboveground. She...I wouldn't say that we were friends, but I don't think either of us would have enjoyed this job half as much without the other.
I tell myself I'm happy for her. Just like with my friends. I'm happy that they got what they deserve. I'm happy that they're happy.
I'm just not happy hearing the disappointed tone in Couth's voice. I try not to take it personally.
"So, you're my new partner." I say it as more of a statement than a question. I hear him make an affirmative sound.
I take a deep breath in, and, mirroring the instructive voice Finch used with me on my first day at work, brief him.
"Well, you basically stand by the counter. You'll have a list of how many ration cards everything is worth. People will come up, tell you what they want. You just have to make sure that their cards are valid and that what they want isn't too expensive for them to afford. I'll start getting the stuff they requested and put it next to you on the counter. If you have any questions, just ask. We have to work pretty fast most days."
He doesn't speak right away, but I swear I can hear him thinking, trying to memorize every word I said. It feels good to be in charge for once. Soon enough, though, he'll get the hang of it, and I'll be back to taking orders.
Eventually, he speaks up. "I think I got it."
I nod. Neither of us move for a moment, and when he starts to, I stop him.
"Are you okay?"
He shrugs, cradling one arm in the other. "Yeah. I still get some pains, though."
"I'm not asking about your arm."
"Oh." He inhales. "I...I just really didn't want to be...this. You could be the strongest, most virtuous of all people in the Containment, but as soon as you break a leg you end up here. It's like...the Powers' wastebasket."
"I get it."
He chuckles. "I suppose you do."
With that, he walks over to the counter. A few seconds later I hear a lady rattling off a lengthy list of foodstuffs and Couth calling, "Where can I find yeast prices on this paper?"
It might be childish--I'm new to this whole "adult" thing--but leaving work is the best feeling in the entire world. Being able to take off the silly apron I'm required to wear and hanging it on a hook in our storage room is like ending the school year...after that, I no longer have to worry about my "duties."
At least, not the boring ones.
Every time my work schedule comes to a close a new list of To-Do's arises. I walk out of the grocer's, sharing a few words of farewell with Couth, before heading to the centre of town.
One, two, three, five, twenty. I reach out and touch the smooth stone that composes one of the few art pieces to be displayed in our city. For some reason, this stone always feels so cold, even when the rest of the underground is warm.
Regardless, I sit. I start fiddling with the buttons on my jacket as I do.
My father gave me this coat. It was his at one point. It was too large to fit me back then, but it fits me well, now. I used to love it because it smelled like him, and it would keep me company when we was away scavenging. His scent, like him, is long gone now. Years of my wearing this jacket has completely erased any remnants of him from its cloth.
I miss him.
But my sadness doesn't last long.
"Hey, Toby!"
Zephyr sits down beside me. I hear the steps of others as they walk down from the Aboveground after the day's work. Idle chatter and the sweet smell of dirt follow them.
It quickly became habit for Zeph and I to meet at this statue after work. It has always been our go-to; it's the centre of town, not many people mill about, and when we were younger it was easy for me to find.
He bumps my shoulder with his. "How was work?"
I shrug, a smile spreading to my face. "Nothing really happened. Couth works with me now."
"Where's Finch?"
"Aboveground. She got transferred to gardening."
"Lucky her."
When he says that, I feel myself start to deflate. Yeah, lucky her. I've been working hard for months and no one has acknowledged all that I've done. I didn't completely turn the grocer's around or anything, but I always show up and keep the shelves stocked. Any kind of recognition would be nice.
Zeph must notice my change in mood. He claps my back. "Hey, at least you're here. I still have nightmares about the trials, and how awful things would be if you didn't..." He fades off. I nod.
"I do, too."
I can feel his relief. He chuckles. "I won't keep you long; I know there's somewhere else you'd rather be--"
I shake my head. "That's not true, Zeph."
He ignores my protest. "You have somewhere else to be. Anyway, my mother is making chicken for dinner. She got a bit of a promotion at work, so..."
He's trying to make me feel less guilty. It doesn't work very well.
It's moments like these when I feel that I've failed him. As much as I want to stay and talk...I want to go even more. I don't know if that's how all couples feel, but that's how I feel.
I make an attempt to salvage things. I stand, he follows, and I say, "how about we spend more time together tomorrow?"
I hear him let out a breath. "Uh, yeah. Sure. That sounds nice."
I tell him that I have to leave. He pulls me into a short hug before we go our separate ways. Me to the houses, him to the library. He says he likes to go there to watch Zeik during his apprenticeship. Apparently the job stresses him out, even though he'd never admit it. Zeph said that for the most part it's him either frantically running about to put books away or staring at the shelves as if he's never noticed them before. I wish I could see that. The thought puts a small smile on my face, which persists long enough to follow me to Salem's house.
Salem's is only a few over from mine. Like most upperclass families, his was able to save enough ration cards to renovate their lodging. So, unlike Zeph's, the inside of his home is set up a bit different than mine.
My schedule formed within the first few weeks of returning from the challenges. Work, meet up with Zeph, meet up with Salem, go home and talk to Torch. The only variation happens on my days off, which I mostly spend alone in the small subterranean park by the marketplace. I no longer have any excuses to go Aboveground. Zephyr was my ticket, but our free days never seem to coincide.
I think back to my first time in Salem's house after we graduated. It was all wrong. The stairs and some walls were in the same place, but the stove, table, chairs, couch...I tripped, and, laughing, he helped me up. It took me a while to get used to the setup, and now I know where everything is.
He gets off a little before I do. When he's done training, though, he'll start working later. I hate change. I'll hate to see him less. But for now he fits into my schedule perfectly, and like Zeph I can meet up with him every day. I just have to be...careful.
I walk up to his door, ready to knock.
Very careful.
