I was going to find a way to stop the government.
When I was fourteen, I met a Shymer named Edgar who planned to join the Rebels. He was spirited unlike anyone I had ever met. Tall and gangly, he wore his dark hair parted down the middle and pushed behind his ears. Everything that came out of Edgar’s mouth was a joke. I didn’t think he took anything in life seriously. Because of this, I didn’t believe him at first when he said he was leaving for the Free Lands.
When I realized he was serious, I decided I would go along. My brother, sister and parents would be dead before long, anyway, and I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go.
I was so close to going through with our plan that I tried giving each of my family members a subtle goodbye. I found a thick red ribbon at school made with a heavy fabric and gave it to Claire, kissing her on the head when she squealed happily at her new treasure. I left Simon the belt buckle that had been passed down to me from our Grandpa Red, telling him a better nickname for him would have been “Little Red,” since he reminded my father so much of our grandfather in spirit. My brother only looked back at me questioningly.
While sitting in the basement with my father the night before, I wordlessly leaned forward to embrace him. A moment passed before he was able to get past the shock and his arms wrapped around me in return. I had never hugged anyone before that day.
While I finished packing the last of my things that night, my mother knocked on the door of my room. She entered looking exhausted as always from a day of working at a clothing factory in the Future territory. Her hair hung around her narrow face in messy bursts, and her eyes were weary. I tried many times to get a job so she wouldn’t have to work so hard, but no one wanted to hire a young boy—especially not a Shymer.
From the knowing expression on her face that night, there was no use in hiding the bag—she was on to me. “That pack belonged to your Grandpa Red,” she said.
“I know.” I plopped down on my bed and she sat beside me. When I turned to her, I noticed for the first time just how bright her blue, almond-shaped eyes were up close, and how the lines at their edges were becoming deeply creased. Ever since that day, I am reminded when I look in a mirror of how she looked as she sat on my bed. My eyes are almost identical in shape and color to hers.
“Joining the Rebels is not the answer,” she said gently. Her lips turned up in the smallest of smiles and she reached out and rest her hand on mine. Since physical affection is rare among Shymers, her unusual gesture came as a surprise.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I muttered. My head hung in shame. I could no longer look at her for fear that I would cry. “I try to be strong like you, and I try to be happy like Claire, but all I can think about is how unfair the government is. Grandpa Red was right. This way of life is wrong. We shouldn’t have to live like this. I should have done something sooner to change things for us—to make life happier for our entire family.”
“Listen to me,” my mother said, tilting my chin to her. “You may think I’m strong, but I’m not. I’m a cowar d , Harrison. I’ve been a coward all my life. I am the one who should have done something. I should have run away with you and your siblings—raised you in the Free Lands and kept you hidden from Society.”
“It wasn’t safe,” I insisted, shaking my head.
She set her hands in her lap and played with her plain gray skirt. Although parents of Shymers sometimes dress in bright colors and patterns like the Futures, my mother had always dressed the same as my little sister—plain enough to go unnoticed. My mother was actually quite stunning, but never saw herself as so. When I was younger I used to tell her how beautiful she was. She would just laugh and say I was a silly boy.
“Your father wanted to run away, Harrison. He knew people who lived in the
Learning to Kill: Stories