***NEVER GO HOME will be leaving wattpad on June 16th. Don't fret. It'll still be available to read. Details to come.***
You can never go home.
The warning seared itself into my brain like those words burned into the slate-gray wood of the sign. Rotting crab apple bits peppered its surface from someone practicing their aim.
It was a warning, present on all roads leading out of every town and village. I viewed what I now think of as "my sign" on the way out of Chernibden, my birthplace and the only place I have ever known.
I left for the same reason my five companions left: girls of Tel-Eile must find suitable husbands. Our duty? To enrich the gene-pool.
In only a few days, Offerings from other villages might arrive in Chernibden to marry the boys we grew up with. The Elders said the rite honored us, but I wasn't so sure. Why didn't the eighteen-year-old boys pack up their things and wander around the countryside looking for a wife? The Elders said that would cause too much confusion, too much to keep track of. Consistency kept the bloodlines clean.
My parents and sister were the only people not happy to see me leave. The townspeople never understood my penchant for questions and pushing of boundaries. I frowned at the thought, then reached back and adjusted my backpack. The weight of it pressed into my hips and shoulders, but I felt the ghost of a burden lift. Soon, I would be free.
A bedroll, food, and clothes loaded my bag. I had stuffed my backpack to the brim in preparation for many days on the road. My father had tried to discourage me from bringing my bow and arrow. What would the other villagers think? But I planned to be on the road awhile. Hunting for food would be a necessity. By the looks of it, everyone else hoped for a short trip, their bags light with an apparent void of unused space inside.
The trip began like all Offerings before. My meager amount of prized-possessions were packed, goodbyes were said, and advice was given. We left in the morning, the five other girls who had come of age and I. With tears in our eyes, we walked in silence except for the snuffling. The wailing of our mothers faded as we made our way forth. They had been through this too.
We all felt the weight of the event upon us, felt the words burnt into the sign burn themselves into our souls.
I realized as we passed our town's warning, alone in a field of scrub, that I had never felt more alone in my entire life. How odd to have a kinship with a sign.
No one said a word as we passed by the Elder Council's final reminder in single file, boots crunching on the ancient, broken pavement. The wafting smell of sage made me wonder if my new home, whenever I stopped the search, would have sagebrush near it. The thought of being able to smell it in my new life gave me comfort.
Eluena, my best friend, leaned in towards me. "Talia, do you think it's true? That we can never come back?"
"You know the law as well as I do, El." I glanced back at the sign. "We can only see our family if they visit us." Soon the scattering of olive trees and hills would block the sign from our view. Our village was already long gone from sight.
"Don't look back," Eluena whispered. She tugged on my sleeve to bring my attention back to the road ahead.
The other girls continued to walk along, boots dragging in the dirt, shoulders hunched. Little puffs of dust rose from underneath our feet.
The sun rose and fell in the sky, and the road now ran parallel to the river. The murky water tinged with green. I'd read in old books bought from the peddler that the water used to be clear down to the bottom of the riverbed. I longed to jump in as sweat trickled between my shoulder blades and beaded above my lip, but instead, I swiped the salty moisture away and adjusted the brim of my hat.
Knowing we would walk all day, I wore something sensible, a loose-fitting cotton shirt and pants to protect my skin from the sun. The other girls dressed in their best sundresses. They might regret that decision tonight while they nursed a nasty sunburn.
As the 'wayward' person in our village, I often found myself off to the side observing everyone else. Maggie and Edith trailed behind the rest of us with eyes downcast or staring at the river; their shoulders slumped forward. They hadn't accepted their fate yet, but it was an improvement upon when we first left. The other two girls, Mindy and Becka, tittered about meeting their husbands. I walked a few feet behind them and eavesdropped on their giggles.
As usual, their inane chatter bored me, so my mind focused on the journey ahead. I wanted to see more than a few villages, but the dream I could fit in somewhere appealed to me. The people of Chernibden had never accepted me. Eluena was the only person who seemed to understand. She didn't have subversive thoughts, as our teacher liked to call them, as I did, but at least she never judged me for my ideas and dreams. The others were a different story.
I had tried to fit in with them. I'd fake interest in new dresses and ribbons. It didn't matter. Sooner or later, I'd open my mouth and say something shocking like, "Did you know before the Great Warming women used to go to school for years and years and even fought in the military?" I would say it with such awe and fascination that everyone would stare at me and then break out in laughter. Mindy would be the one to start. The others always followed.
Lost in my thoughts, I didn't see Eluena move up next to me again. She knocked my arm to get my attention. "We're finally coming up to the crossroads."
I squinted as I looked ahead, covering my brow with my hand to block out more of the harsh sun. The crossroads would have shade. Even though I wore a large brimmed hat, which was standard for any sane person growing up in Chernibden, I was ready to cool off. Even better though, the crossroads meant we stopped for the day, and we'd find out who would move on tomorrow and who would stay for a few days.
My thoughts warred with one another. A part of me wanted to stay for the extra five days with Eluena. Unless we wound up in the same village, we'd likely never see one another again. The other part of me wanted to be one of the first three girls to move on. That way I could keep traveling and see all of Tel-Eile. Finding a husband didn't interest me.
Just that morning, I hinted at my wishes to my mother. I always was the one to braid my hair, but this morning my mother insisted.
"One last time, my Talia," she had said, her face stoic and eyes glassy. Without a word, I had sat on the stool in front of her. Father puttered around us gathering his tools. He'd be off to work as soon as the Offerings were out of sight. She pulled the brush through my long auburn locks, hissing as she hit the snarls. "You never cared much for your presentation."
I examined my mother in the mirror. Her head was bent, attention towards the task at hand. I always thought she was beautiful, but now I noticed her hair, so like my own, was more gray than auburn. Lines marred her face. At least they were what they called laugh lines. That was a good thing, I thought. When I was older, I hoped the lines on my face showed everyone how happy I was. The only times I recalled those lines tarnishing her pleasant looks was when my sister or I had done something wrong, which was often. But I also remembered seeing them when we were around the Elder Council.
"Mama," I whispered. Her gaze met mine in the mirror. "I want to see as much as I can see before settling down." The spot between her eyes crinkled as she took in my words. Did she hear me? I tried again. "I won't choose a husband at any of the nearby villages, Mama. I'll keep going, as far as I can." Her eyes held mine, and the similarity of our eyes struck me though mine were more hazel than her green. Then with a curt nod, she went back to braiding my hair.
I sat there, still. I just told her I was going far away. There was no way she and Dad would travel further than three villages away to visit. I suppressed unwanted tears as she continued to braid my hair, her motions now brusque. My head pulled back with each yank of the hair into the braid.
My father's bearded face appeared next to my mother's in the mirror. "I'll see you both outside." He gave my mother a quick kiss on the cheek and patted my shoulder. The wooden door banged as he left.
Mother finished my braid and tied it off with a final jerk. Then she was in front of me kneeling and gripping my arms. "You need to listen. You find a husband, and you find one fast at the first village. I know you want to see the world. I understand, truly I do. But for once in your life, you need to listen to me." Her words came out in a rush, and she moved to grip my hands in hers. Was that fear in her eyes or concern for her strange daughter?
"Yoohoo! It's time to gather!" Mrs. Lind, our neighbor, stuck her head in our open front window.
"We'll be right out," my mother said with a surprising amount of cheer, a total opposite of how she sounded a moment ago. I couldn't ward off the shiver that crept up my spine. I hadn't had time to process any of it before she helped me up from the stool.
Outside, my mother looked around like she was looking for an eavesdropper, but our front yard was empty. Most people had already left for the edge of town. Again my mom faced me. "Remember what I said." She gave me one of her "don't mess with me" looks.
Her earnestness disturbed me, but I had no clue why she was so adamant I find a husband in the first village. Before I could respond, she had grabbed my hand, and we had left the house, heading to the northern side of town.
Shaking off my reverie and the slight note of foreboding that snaked up my neck at the memory of my mother, I gathered with the other girls. The crossroads stood before us.
The ramshackle shelter we would stay in sat off to the side, holes peppering the wood of the walls. Patches covered the roof, and the windows held no glass. Instead, shuttters hung on the sides to block out the rain and wind. People cared for the building through the years, but it still looked as if we'd get soaked if a storm hit.
The last one was over a week ago, so we were due. At least a system of drains and gutters meant to collect the stormwater adorned the roof and walls.
I made a mental note to check the rain barrel for water before Mindy, our self-proclaimed leader, grabbed my attention by barking out, "Everyone find a stick."
I walked away and kicked around at the undergrowth on the side of the road, not sure why she thought she possessed the skills to lead us. If anyone could make sure we did well this first night, it would be me, but I was sick of confrontations with her. Hopefully, my time at the crossroads with her would be minimal, and then I'd never see her again. Near an oak tree, a fallen branch snagged my pants, so I grabbed it and thwacked at the sparse grass.
We'd need to make a fire soon for cooking and warmth. The days were hot, but the nights were brisk. I turned towards the group with my branch, eyeing the fire circle.
"Talia, you're such an idiot." Mindy snatched the branch out of my hands causing me to hiss as it scratched across my palm. I bit my tongue as she threw my branch off the road. "I asked for a stick so we can draw lots for who leaves tomorrow morning, and you, dimwit that you are, brought me a whole fragging tree." Her lips quirked up on one side in disgust.
"You said a stick. I found one." An all too familiar anger curdled in my belly. "Besides we need wood for a fire," I muttered before bringing my bleeding palm to my lips. Tonight, I'd have to put a salve on that.
Mindy turned away from me in a move I had seen many times before. Edith tossed a large branch into the grass as Mindy eyed her. I could only guess at the look that Mindy gave her, but I smiled. I wasn't the only one who assumed Mindy meant something else.
When all of us held a small twig, Mindy took off her wide-brimmed hat and asked everyone to throw their stick in.
Making a show of swishing her hat around, she reached in and grabbed one before announcing with barely repressed glee, "The largest three leave tomorrow morning."
I didn't look at mine until everyone chose. Mindy put her hat back on, and we gathered in a small circle with our hands out, showing our sticks. Mine was an obvious short one. So be it. I looked over to Eluena. She held hers up to Mindy's. Then the arguing began.
The heat of dread started in my core then washed up my chest and into my cheeks. Eluena might leave the crossroads without me. I might be stuck with people who relished making my life miserable. I stared in horror as Mindy called Becka over to be the judge. Mindy smirked at me, but even I saw from five feet away that her stick was smaller than Eluena's. Becka made a show of examining the sticks before she looked up with a shrug to Mindy and announced Eluena's was bigger.
Eluena, Maggie, and Edith would leave in the morning, the next step in our ritual. A deliberate step to spread us out. Or was it a move to make us more willing to settle?
My body trembled as it sunk in that not only would Eluena, my friend and sole ally, leave me but also that I'd have five extra days alone with Mindy and Becka.