The Earth our ancestors used to know hasn’t had life for thousands of years, or so they tell me. Some of the children don’t even believe that it existed to begin with. Even my sister thinks that the water-abundant sphere was just a metaphor for advancement, that it’s just an image painted the Authority. But I know better.
“Israel? Are you listening to me?”
I snapped out of my thoughts, adjusting my eyes back to the dimly lit family room. I glanced down, recognizing the stained wooden floors, the dark green couch. I continued raising my gaze until I met Lane’s face, contorted in disappointment. Her short chocolate hair hung around her face, and her blue eyes—not unlike my own—looked tired.
“Did you hear anything I just told you?”
“Mhmm,” I responded, stretching my arms above my head. “Yep. Every bit.”
Lane rolled her eyes, leaning back in her wooden chair. “Just forget it.”
“Already forgotten,” I teased, but Lane wasn’t having any of it. She looked away.
With my obvious sisterly charm, I flung myself at her feet, holding tight to her legs.
“Mighty Lane Tristan Gardener! Please forgive my ignorance, my apathy! With every fiber of my being, I promise I will listen to your wise words with full attention! Can you ever forgive me?”
She started to crack a smile, and she turned back to look at me. “Dear sister, I believe the mighty Lane Tristan Gardener may just forgive. But just this once.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, crawling back to my comfortable spot on the couch. “Now, what were you saying?”
“I was saying that tonight’s the night when I receive my permanent place in society.”
“Right, tomorrow’s your eighteenth birthday; it’s your first day as an adult,” I said, giving her a toothy grin.
“Don’t remind me,” she shuddered, “Anyways, those who move on to adulthood have to give a final speech at the ceremony tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“And then a family member walks the new adult to go receive their match.”
“Right.”
“Will you walk with me, Israel?”
My eyes widened a little bit. In New Emmanuel, the city we live, being asked to be a part of any ceremony is considered a big honor. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Lane giggled, “Who else could do it?”
“But I’m only seventeen! I’m not yet an adult myself.”
“You don’t have to be. I’ve already asked the Elder if it was acceptable,” she told me.
I relaxed a bit. The Elder was ahead of the Authority in New Emmanuel. I knew if he gave the okay, then we could trust his word.
“Okay. I’ll do it,” I nodded, brushing back a stray blonde curl.
Before Lane could express to me her thanks, I heard the front door open. In our small home, we only had three rooms—the family room, our parents’ room, and the bedroom Lane and I shared. When we had to “take care of business,” we had to trudge outside to the small hut used for that sort of thing. Lane will have to move out once she is given her match, so I will soon get our small room to myself, but that’s beside the point.
Mother walked in, looking sweaty and exhausted from a day in the fields. Behind her was Father, his appearance identical to hers. He carried a bushel of fruits and vegetables for our family—the daily quota we received as the Gardeners.
Oh, I probably should mention that. See, our last names are given to us by the Authority. When the humans came to Elanora, to New Emmanuel, jobs had to be distributed. To make sure the jobs were shared equally, and so that everyone knew who to go to for certain tasks, your last name determined what your career would be—until you find your match, of course. I am a member of the Gardener family. Therefore, our family’s job is to grow the produce for the city and make sure it is delivered to each and every family each and every day.
“Hello, girls,” Mother greeted, wiping her dirt-plastered hands on her thin pink frock.
“Hello, Mother,” Lane and I responded in unison.
“An hour till dinner, yeah?” she spoke. It wasn’t really a question. Mothers and fathers always set the family rules. Children had no right to object.
“Yeah,” Lane responded, getting up. Since she was almost an adult herself, she assisted mother with the cooking and cleaning. She would need to know how to do both once she grew out of childhood.
“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” I spoke, wanted to get out of their way.
Mother nodded. “As you please. Remember, Israel—“
“An hour till dinner. I got it,” I nodded before standing. I bowed my head slightly to her before walking down the small hallway and into my shared room.
The room wasn’t anything special. Nothing in New Emmanuel was. The walls were brown and bare, and the floor was still wooden. Two small beds were in both of the far corners, and a dresser was pressed in between them. I walked over to the bed on the left and sat down on the quilted top. I was silent for a moment, listening to make sure my family members were not directly outside the door. Once I was sure they had started to prepare dinner, I reached under my flimsy pillow and pulled out my heart.
Not literally, of course, but pretty close. It was a leather-bound book, worn and evidently loved. Yellow pages, half filled with writing, were carefully bound in the center. It contained my most precious thoughts. My likes, my dislikes, my hopes. That’s why I must make sure no one can ever find this diary. It is against the law to put your desires before others. It is against the law to hope.
With as little sound as possible, I pulled a pencil from the top drawer in the dresser and began to write:
Israel Gardener, on the 3rd day of the harvest season, penned the following.
There was an announcement at the town meeting today that Kennedy Baker is expecting Morgan Baker’s child. The Authority has given the baby the name “Jaiden Sage.” Whether the baby is male or female, I’m sure this Jaiden Sage will be a blessing.
Lane is almost an adult—I only have one more day left with the older sister I’ve grown with. I don’t want her to leave, but she has asked me to walk with her after her speech. I cannot let her down.
No one has mentioned the Máóhk yet today, which still perplexes me. If what the Authority states is true, and it is, then these ruthless natives should be attacking the society any day now. I know that members of the military will be able to strike down the uprising before it comes, but I cannot help but feel nervous at the idea that there might be bloodshed. The Authority has assured us that the Máóhk will not harm us. I must trust in the Authority.
I must trust in the Authority.
I set the pencil beside me on the bed, shutting the book without a sound. Today’s entry was complete, and so the book went back to its home under my pillow. I took the pencil and slid it quietly back into the dresser. I sighed, feeling slightly more complete with the absence of my thought. I was ever so pleased tha-
Tap tap tap.
I glanced over to the only window, startled by the sharp knocking that was coming from it. Instead of the Máóhk murderer I expected, it was a teenage boy. More than just a teenage boy.
“Phoenix,” I grinned, scooting off the bed and walking over to the window near the foot of Lane’s bed.
Phoenix Blacksmith was tall, so he had to bend down slightly to peer into the window. He flashed a grin, showing his boyish charm. His curly dark red hair and brown eyes were shadowed by the sunset, but I still knew all of him was there.
“Come out and play,” he mouthed through the glass.
I nodded, glancing over at the small analog clock my great-great-great grandparents had once owned. I still had forty-five minutes. I had time.
He pointed to the right, motioning for me to meet him in the wooded area behind our home, and disappeared.
I couldn’t help but feel excited as I hurriedly rushed from my room. We rarely ever saw each other now that the harvest season was beginning. It’d be nice to get away. And not only get away, but get away with him.
“Israel?” My mother questioned as I grabbed the knob for the front door. “Where are you going?”
“I think I left something in the fields today,” I told her without turning around. “I’ll be back before dinner!”
“Israel, wai-“ she started, but the door closed behind me and I was off.
I hadn’t gotten the chance to run in a long time. The wind ripped through my long golden hair and pressed my plain brown clothing to me and I couldn’t help but laugh.
The woods weren’t too far off, and I knew exactly were Phoenix would be waiting. I picked out his red curls, illuminated by the remaining sunlight, and spotted him kneeling at the base of our tree.
As I approached, I slowed down to a jog and eventually came to a full stop.
“I have to admit, Gardener, I think you made a new record,” he responded, looking up at me with that grin. “You’ve never gotten ‘ere so fast.”
“I just…I needed to get out of the house, that’s all,” I retorted, kneeling next to him. “What are you looking at?”
His slightly burnt, muscular hand was tracing over something. There were at least fifty letters, all words, carved into the trunk of our tree. I knew instantly why he was kneeling.
“Phoenix, there was nothing anyone could do,” I spoke quietly, watching his hand uncover letters one at a time. J…A…D…E…
“I know,” he responded, his once bright brown eyes dark and cold. His finger moved on to a new word. H…U…N…T…E…R…
“The Authority said she was dead when the military arrived. It was the Máóhk, not you. Not you,” I tried getting through to him. He continued to trace. B…L…A…
“Thinking about it isn’t going to help,” I spoke, raising my voice ever so slightly. I ripped his hand away from the tree and forced him to face me. My hands were pressed on either side of his face, but his eyes were looking right through me.
“Let’s go to the river, yeah? You like skipping stones there. Come on,” I said, gripping his arms and pulling him up with me as I stood. He was a good nine or ten inches taller than me, so it was slightly awkward, but we needed to go.
He nodded his head once, a barely detectable movement. I gave him a soft smile and slipped my hand in his, pulling him along with me away from our tree.
***
Jade Hunter Blacksmith
Dead at only six years of age
Forever loved, forever missed, forever remembered
***