Memory Girl (16 page)

Still, saying good-bye—again—is difficult. I kiss Petal's soft leathery head. “You can trust Marcus,” I say.

“I'll take care of her,” he promises.

I nod, biting my lip. I won't cry. I won't.

He cradles the bucket with Petal in his arms, and I turn away.

It kills me not to turn back.

When I return to the playformance, it's crowded with hundreds of bright patches of Family colors. There are familiar faces—youths, Instructors, and members of my new Family. I'm surprised to see two scientists in the front row. Lila shines like a queen in gold and purple, sitting beside her brother Daniel. I'm tempted to go to Lila, to beg her to give me another chance. But I remind myself of her deceit.

“What took you so long?” Rosemarie whispers as I sit beside her.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I was feeling ill … something I ate.”

Her expression softens. “Are you better now?”

I imagine Petal swimming in seawater soon. “Much better.”

Grand Sarwald climbs up the steps to the stage, then takes the microphone, tapping his gnarled fingers on the podium. The echoing thud silences the audience. His thin lips fade into a pale, wrinkled face, and he seems more aged than I remembered, although that's impossible. Still he stands confident with an inner strength, and I understand why the scientists chose him for our highest leader.

“Welcome to Sunday Fair!” his gruff voice booms out. “I trust you've all enjoyed successful bartering.”

The crowd explodes in applause, whistles and foot stomping.

“Our artists have prepared a fine entertainment for us. Let me welcome the playformers.” He gestures to a royal blue stage curtain behind him, which slides open to reveal the dark-robed dancers.

The cloaked performers form a line at the back of the podium behind Leader Sarwald. I lean forward, searching each figure for blue eyes. But they stand in shadows.
I'm being foolish
, I tell myself. A boy of the sea has no place in ShareHaven. I only imagined Nate's eyes.

“A few announcements,” Grand Sarwald calls out across the audience.

I'm glad Rosemarie chose seats near the podium so I have a good view.

“We have an esteemed audience,” Grand Sarwald continues. “This could be the largest attendance yet for a play-formance. I'm especially pleased to see our youths present. A round of applause for our newest citizens.”

I glance around and spot Lorelei three rows behind me. She catches my gaze, and we share smiles. I don't see Marcus and guess he's farther back, hidden by taller heads.

“Pay attention,” Rosemarie whispers into my ear. “Show respect for Grand Sarwald.”

“Apologies,” I murmur, and return my gaze forward, bringing my palms together as the audience explodes in applause.

“Much better,” Rosemarie approves. “He's our Highest Leader, and it was kind of him to give tribute to youths. Gaining his notice is an honor.”

I nod, noticing how Grand Sarwald's smile doesn't quite
reach his eyes, as if he's heavy with responsibilities. For a moment, I see beyond the smile to the old soul who survived over a century to reach this moment.

“ShareHaven embraces our precious new citizens,” Grand Sarwald continues, moving his hands as he speaks. “The past is reborn again with each new cycle of youths. Precious resources are restored through these fine youths.”

I smile, but my gaze shifts beyond Grand Sarwald to the playformers. A few have lifted their masks, men and women with tawny shades of smooth skin that ceased aging at twenty-five. Only one woman has blue eyes, but they're more gray than blue. I narrow down my search to two tall figures at the far edge of the podium. One leans to the other. I strain to see his face ….

“And our communal bounty continues to prosper,” Leader Sarwald is saying. “I wish to thank the Instructors with us. Without our educators, our youths would be empty vessels. Let's give these fine men and women a round of—”

Leader Sarwald jerks back, gasping. He clutches at his chest. Blood spills through his fingers as he collapses on the stage.

It's all so fast. A blur of shouting. People rushing to the stage. Rosemarie's hand slaps over her mouth, but I still hear her scream. Loud, shrill, scared. My heart lurches. I want to run forward to help, but I can't move. Can't breathe ….

“Grand Sarwald has been shot!” someone cries.

“He's not breathing!”

“Dead!”

A wall of people swarm the front of the stage. While most gazes are fixed on Grand Sarwald, I climb on my chair and search the back of the stage where the playformers huddle
together—except for one cloaked figure, backing away. Lights glint off a silver object in his hand—a blow pipe. As he shoves the pipe into his cloak pocket, his mask slips off.

I cry out, and he looks straight at me.

With killer sea-blue eyes.

I realize the word I called out:
Nate.

Around me people are shouting, shoving. Yet I'm frozen in a dream of unreality.

Nate stares at me for a few heartbeats, then whirls and jumps off the stage. Before his feet touch the ground, he's tackled by four hulking Uniforms. They punch him, viciously twist his arms, and drag him away.

My eyes burn like I'm crying fire. But there are no tears.

“Milly!” snaps a voice beside me.

I don't move. I can't. I'm in a dream, right? Nothing is real.

But my shoulder hurts, fingers dig into my skin, and when my thoughts clear, I realize Rosemarie has grabbed me. She jerks me around so we're facing each other, her usually sweet features twisted in fury.

“Come with me,” she orders. “Now!”

The stage is a mob of Uniforms, barking out orders, and there are pink-garbed people too, kneeling beside Leader Sarwald. Hope surges through me at the sight of the skillful health workers. They'll know how to repair him.

No one ever dies.

Rosemarie pulls me away, but I look back at grim head shakes. The Uniforms have stepped back in a respectful line, their heads bowed. Health workers bend over the still
figure, only they're using sharp cutting tools on his head, not saving a life. Retrieving memories.

“Do
not
say a word until we're alone,” Rosemarie hisses at me.

I nod. I can't talk. Don't want to.

She marches me down aisles through people buzzing with shock and outrage. I keep seeing blood spread across Grand Sarwald's chest and the blow pipe in Nate's hand. A nightmare cycling on repeat.

Rosemarie leads me to the solar coach and shoves me inside. She slams the door then turns to me. “How do you know the hooded boy?” she demands.

I shake my head. “I don't know him.”

Anger twists her face as she leans toward me. “I heard you!” she accuses. “You called him Nate.”

I shake my head again, desperately. “I don't know what I said! I was too scarified to do anything.”

“You know him,” she accuses.

“No … I don't.”

“Liar!” Her hand whips out and she slaps my face.

I reel backward, touching my stinging cheek. No one has ever hit me. I'm gasping, hardly able to breathe. Rosemarie is my friend in a Family of strangers. But now she's a stranger too.

“Do. Not. Lie.” Her nails dig into my arm painfully. “You may think I'm being cruel, but I'm trying to protect you. What if someone else heard you call out to the killer? Do you know what will happen if they think you helped him?”

“I—I wouldn't … I didn't!” I start to shake.

“How do you know him?”

“I don't really!” I gulp in air, thinking fast for a convincing
story. I can't tell her about my trips to my cave, so I create a near version of the truth. “I only met him once. A few weeks ago when I was walking on a trail.”

“Why didn't you tell anyone?”

I shake my head. “I—I wasn't sure what to do.”

“So you did nothing?” Anger steams under her words. But she pauses, takes a breath, then asks in a softer tone, “Exactly what did he tell you?”

“Only his name.”

“You asked nothing else? You're the most questioning youth I've ever met. You must have asked him more.”

If only I could have
, I think sadly. “Someone else was coming down the trail, and he ran into the trees. I didn't think my Instructors would believe me if I told them of a youth not of my born-group. Where does he come from?”

“Not from ShareHaven, that's for certain.”

“Then where?”

“Outside.” Rosemarie scowls. “But he never should have been able to get past our Fence. Did you see which direction he went?”

I think of broken wire in the Fence. I thought Nate a friend … but I was wrong. I showed an enemy the way inside ShareHaven. I swallow guilt. “I didn't see where he went. I ran back to the Edu-Center.”

She peers into my face, probably comparing me to her Milly—an obedient sister who would never hide truths. “Leaders need to know of outsiders.”

“Are you going to tell them?” I suck in a nervous breath.

“I should. But I won't.”

“Thank you.”

“I've never lied to the Leaders before … but I can't lose
Milly again.”

She embraces me like I'm the sister she loves. I stiffen at first, then relax into her comfort. It feels good to have someone care.

“I'm sorry … about everything,” I say, overwhelmed with emotions. “I should have told someone … and now Grand Sarwald is … but he can't really be gone. The health-keepers will mend him, won't they?”

She shakes her head, tears in her eyes as she tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “We must keep what you've told me a secret. Understand?”

I sniffle and nod.

“Good,” she says with a sigh. “I doubt anyone else heard you call that boy. All the focus was on the podium. If anyone does ask, I'll cover for you. And I'm sorry for that.” She points to my cheek. “I shouldn't have lost my temper. But I was fearful the Uniforms would take you away.”

I bite my lip. “To jail?”

“If they suspect you of betraying the community, they'll do worse.” She glances down at her tightly clasped hands.

I think of what might happen to Nate and shudder. “Execution?”

“Not for youths. You would be punished differently than an outsider.” Her lower lip quivers. “I can't speak of it, so don't ask again. Show only your very best behavior. Promise me?”

I nod, holding my breath.

I know what she's afraid to say.

The worst punishment is being Returned.

The cloudless sky shines springtime blue, although it's nearly winter. We drive by fields where wooly grazers wag
their tails, hoxen munch on dark wilding grass, and red-winged birds flutter high from branches, singing sweet melodies. Life on our peaceful community goes on as if nothing has changed.

As if our Grand Leader hasn't died.

Rosemarie and I are the first to return from the Sunday Fair.

She slips her arm around my shoulders as we leave the vehicle barn, and we walk the stone path to our dwelling.

“Are you all right?” she asks, shutting the door behind us.

I nod. “Are you?”

“I'm not sure …. I can't stop thinking about … about ….” Her voice trails off. She rubs her forehead, then says she's going to lie down.

I tell her not to be concerned with chores. I need to work, to stay busy, so my mind doesn't plunge back to the podium.

Humming a wordless tune that Lorelei taught me, I stare out a kitchen window across buildings, pastures, and gardens. It's beauteous here, I realize with surprise. Beauty isn't something I expected from the Cross Family, where most of them work in constructing and have callused hands. I look down at my hands, smooth except for my short, cracked fingernails. There's a burn mark on my thumb from the heatery coils, but it's already fading to pink.