Out There (3 page)

Taking her pause as an opportunity to go over, I snuck up behind her and placed my hands over her eyes. “Guess who?” I teased.

“Ava,” she said, giggling and turning round, “don't you think that's getting a bit old?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I'd know my best friend anywhere, silly.”

“Oh right, I guess I forgot about that,” I joked.

She playfully hit me on the arm and said, “Hey, help me with this will you?” She nodded at the guitar.

“Sure. What happened to it this time?”

“Well, I just got it back from repairs and it looks different to me, don't you think?”

I inspected the guitar for a second. “Oh, yeah, I can see it. There's a speck of dust on it, right there.”

“Ava! Seriously, something's different.”

“Katelyn, it looks fine, trust me.”

“Well, OK. This is an antique so I just want to be sure. People don't play music like before, you know they once didn't have auto-tuners so they had to sit there and tune them themselves. And they used to actually have people whose profession was to play music; it wasn't just a skill. And they…”

“Katelyn, I know, you've told me this a million times…” “Oh sorry, it's just that…”

“…music is something that is going extinct and it's important to keep the culture alive,” I finished.

“You know me too well.”

“Wasn't that obvious before? So, are you on next?”

“Yeah, they asked me to play again this year, shocker. I feel like every Election and Liberation Day they have the same celebration.”

“Well, you know how they like tradition.”

“Yeah, but it makes the music boring. If you hear the same thing all the time then…”

“… you learn to hate it. You know you've said all this before, right?”

“Well, at least I know you were listening to me all this time.” “Hey, I can be a good listener too.”

“Uh-huh. Oh, congrats for your mother by the way.” “Thanks, I was so relieved.”

“Yeah, I know how much she wanted it, so I'm really happy for her.”

“Well, now the hard work begins. She told me that if she won, it would be a big commitment.”

“That makes sense; she does have the most important job in the whole city. But, if anyone can do it, it's Donna Hart.”

“True, she is tough as a rock.”

“Yeah, she's like you.”

“You think?”

Mother and I shared the same glossy black hair – hers is straight, mine's wavy – and the same periwinkle blue eyes. Most people said we had the same nose and face shape too.

“Ava, no one is stronger than you,” Katelyn said and her golden brown eyes lit up like they did whenever she smiled. “All right, time to go on.”

“Good luck.”

“Yeah, sure,” she sighed. “Wait a minute, I have an idea.”

“This better not involve me…”

“Come on
with
me!” she exclaimed.

“Oh no, remember last time we tried to sing together in public? Not pretty.”

“Ava, that was like two years ago. It'll be fun! Please?” “No, you're fabulous enough on your own.”

“That's not the point, I want you to come with me. It'll be a hit, the Leader's daughter singing her heart out on stage!”

“No way, you didn't say anything about organs leaving the body.”

“Ava!
Please.
”

I stared at her with my
no way can you change my mind
face, but it didn't work. Her puppy-dog eyes were impossible to resist. And before I knew it, my feet were firmly planted on the stage floor, mic in hand.

Suddenly silence wasn't comforting any more. I tried to push away the flutter in my stomach, but the butterflies seemed to have a mind of their own.

“Hi, I'm Ava and this is…” The lights turned on, blocking my vision once again. Squinting away the brightness, I continued, “Uh thanks. So like I was saying, I'm Ava and this is Katelyn.” Katelyn waved. “And we're going to perform for you.”

There was a moment of awkward silence, then the audience clapped.
Showtime
. I gave Katelyn my
you owe me
stare and adjusted the microphone in the stand. Taking a deep breath, I indicated to her that I was ready to start. She began to strum a melody and the gorgeous sound of Katelyn's old and precious guitar danced around the room.

The song was a classic from the early days of the city. Back then there was a woman named Naomi who wrote new music, as all records of old songs and tunes had been destroyed in The Great Wars. She created bright happy melodies with lyrics that told of our people's struggle for freedom and what our society had become. Then she became sick and passed away before the city's second anniversary. After that people only sang her songs – good thing there were dozens of them. She was also the last person in the city to die of a disease, said to have been a birth defect. Apart from her, and a woman who died of old age, everyone since the start of the city was still alive.

Katelyn was playing one of her favourites and I saw the crowd nod their heads before the lyrics even began. As my cue came, I opened my mouth and sang. I could barely hear myself over the thump of my heart, a very busy organ that day, and it took me a moment to realise that no one else could hear me either. I stopped and turned to Katelyn with wide eyes just as she stopped strumming her guitar. I looked out over the crowd of people all standing there expectantly and my face began to heat up.

I tapped the microphone. “Testing, testing.” Some people in the front row seemed to understand, but beyond that there was pretty much silence. A few yawns, maybe a whisper or two.

“Katelyn!” I hissed. “It's not working!”

She didn't seem to have any ideas so I spun round and clutched the microphone between my sweaty hands. “Testing, testing. Hello?” I yelled out into the crowd, “Anyone know how to turn this on? Hello?” My last word suddenly sounded much louder and the audience began to cheer.

“It's working!” I turned to Katelyn.

“Start again?”

“Yeah, let's rock!”

She began to play once again and the people nodded their heads to the beat. With a bit more confidence the second time, I sang out the lyrics into the fully functional microphone. Then Katelyn joined in at the chorus and the crowd got really into it. Some began to cheer, others clapped with the beat until everyone was clapping along. Comforted by this, I continued singing and began to sway with the music, enjoying every note. As the chorus came around again I clapped my hands above my head and grabbed the microphone off the stand, dancing around the stage. I could feel Katelyn laughing, so I went all out. The crowd were laughing and dancing and singing along. As the last lyrics came I pointed the microphone into the crowd and they all leant in to sing. The last chord rang and the audience cheered us.

Laughing, I skipped over to Katelyn. “OK, I think I'm totally worn out now, your turn.”

“All right, but you're coming on afterwards for the finale.” “If you insist.” I flopped into her chair panting, as she walked up to the front of the stage.

Katelyn lowered the microphone and the audience chuckled as she moved it about a foot lower. Sitting on a stool, she began to pick a gentle melody, soft and slow, like a breeze that drifted through the room and stroked the heart of each person. She began to sing. Her voice was like that of an angel, the sweetest most beautiful sound that captured the attention of everyone there. The song was not well known, but I had heard my dear friend sing it all the time. She had said it was called
The Choice
. The audience was captivated as the oh-so-familiar lyrics rang out:

One choice may be safe,
But in truth it brings pain,
Live for what I love,

Or live to gain?

Would risking it all,

Give me peace of mind?
When defying the rules,

Ends up costing my life.

I liked to think of her voice as being as soft as rose petals. For when she sang, like a rose in full bloom, you couldn't help but stare. And as the song ended, it almost broke my heart to hear the sound of her voice fading. Then it was silent. A beautiful silence, though. A silence to appreciate and hold on to the last bit of something beautiful. Then the biggest cheer imaginable erupted from the audience and I saw Jennifer Rose smiling at Katelyn with love and pride. Right then, I would have been the proudest person in the world too if my daughter could create something as beautiful as that.

Katelyn came over. “Now, are you ready to wow them all?” “Trust me, I don't think it's possible to wow them any more than that.”

“Trust
me
, they won't believe their eyes when the dynamic duo take the stage.”

“All right then, one more song.”

That was an understatement. There were four more songs actually, each one louder and wilder and more exciting than the previous. Katelyn played that guitar until her fingers were red and both of us could barely speak as we stumbled off the stage laughing.

“That was incredible!” she exclaimed, clutching my shoulder for balance.

“Who knew we had so much talent?” I giggled, slumping on to the floor.

Katelyn mimed my dancing around the stage, flipping her hair and stomping her feet. She collapsed on to the floor laughing.

“Hey, I dance way better than that.”

“Yeah, remember this.” She stood up and slid across the floor on her knees with her hands in the air.

“Ha ha, very funny.”

She laughed and fell back on the floor. “And you didn't want to come on.”

“Don't give me an
I told you so
or I'll have to mimic you at the school party two years ago.”

“Now that was some crazy dancing.”

We took a moment to reminisce before I broke the silence. “Hey Kay, want to sleep over at my place?”

“Won't your mother want time with you?”

“Nah, she said she'd be out late, so it's fine. We can sleep in the yard…”

“You're so lucky, my house doesn't have a yard to sleep in.”

“So, that's a yes?”

“Fine,” she said, laughing.

I stood, holding my hand out to her and pulled her up. After her most precious belonging was packed away, we went outside and walked to the tram stop.

At my house, we went and gathered some blankets from the cupboard and laid them on the dry grass in the yard. Katelyn borrowed sleeping clothes and we climbed into our homemade outdoor beds.

Our sky in Emiscyra was always dark at night, projected by the Bubble. The Bubble was one of the many inventions of Sylvia Carter, designed to keep out harmful gases and wild animals that lived outside the city. It was a thin layer that spread across the city edges and curved above it. Sunlight triggered a clear blue sky to be projected, and darkness triggered a black night sky. This piece of pure genius was marvelled at and immediately promoted Sylvia Carter to the smartest woman in Emiscrya. She was practically an idol.

Sleeping in the yard meant that we could stare at the curved ceiling of the Bubble. It was always visible at night, never in the day.

“I wonder how that works,” I said.

“How what works?” Katelyn asked, lying on the ground.

“The Bubble. How is it that you can see it at night, but not in the day?”

“I don't know,” she puzzled. “You know before the Bubble people had to always be careful of looking into the sun. We're lucky that the Bubble doesn't show the sun but lets its rays through.”

“What does the sun look like?”

“I think it's a glow in the sky. People are a moth to its flame, they can't not stare at it, but it hurts their eyes if they do.” She turned to her side. “Are you excited for graduation?”

“It's like a year away, but yeah, I guess. I can't believe we're almost done, all fifteen years of school.”

“I know, it's so strange. Before you know it we'll be assigned our own houses and intercoms and then we'll have to apply for a profession and receive income from the Council and everything!”

“We already get income, though.”

“Yeah, but not adult-rate income. Hey, remember when our income went to our mothers to use to raise us and we didn't get to use it until age ten?”

“Who could forget? I mean I still give Mother a share of my income to buy food for me, but I know what you mean. And we get our eighteenth birthday bonuses soon!” I exclaimed, sitting up.

“Yeah, in like nine and a half months,” she sighed. “Still, we're almost eighteen! How weird!”

“I know. We're amongst the last people to graduate. After the year below us, that's it. No more kids.”

“Well, I guess that's what the Repopulation Phase is for,” I said, lying back down again.

“Do you think we'll be part of it?”