The Woodlands (8 page)

“
Sit down!” the Guardian snapped at me. I quickly found a spot and strapped myself in. The others were staring at me, eyes wide. The Guardian tapped the pilot on the shoulder. “Wait, there’s one more.”

He bounded in, bag in hand
, and casually threw it on the pile and scanned the seats. There was plenty of room on the other side but he squeezed his bulky form between me and the boy I was sitting next to.

Suddenly we were in the air. When the
Guardian wasn’t looking, Joseph slipped his hand over mine. Warmth calmed the agitation I felt, like pouring gold over lead, glowing. We stayed that way the entire ride. Eyes forward. Impossibly trying to anticipate what may lie ahead.

Soon we would be at the Classes. A new life awaited us. We must si
t the Test and then we would be allocated an occupation to train for. It was excitement dredged in terror. If I could get into something decent, I could change my fate, to a degree anyway, but if I messed up, the principal would be right about me. The Superiors would still decide which town I would be sent to, but what I would do, once I was there, was yet to be determined.

The air was freezing cold up here but I found it
exhilarating, like plunging into ice water. The door was open and we could look down to the world below. I could tell Joseph was taking it in too. The vastness of the Woodlands was surprising. From up here, the Rings looked like beautiful ancient structures, somewhat alien given the surroundings, as though they were dropped there from outer space. I could see all eight of them. Pau Brasil, Banyan, Casuarina, Bagassa, Iroko, Palma, Birchton and Radiata. Each named after common trees from the four countries or continents from which we all originated: India, Brasil, Russia, and Africa. They were evenly spaced out with the Superiors’ dwellings in their own town in the center.

I was not prepared for two things. We were always taught
every citizen of the Woodlands was treated the equally, that all the towns were the same, including the Superior dwellings. What we could see from the air was that the Superiors’ town had only one ring. It had hills and fields, pockets of water, and randomly scattered around this huge, open space were the compounds of the Superiors.

The other thing that came as a surprise was the Wilderness itself. I couldn
’t believe the sheer density of it. The forest was pressed up against the sides of every town, threatening to break down the walls and swallow it in green. It was strange, considering there was very little plant life within the walls—only one type of tree and some grass.

There
were no roads, no cleared space between one town and the next. No wonder they airlifted us out. I was peering through the tiny spaces in the foliage, my eyes finding a river, white rocks glistening in the sun, when I saw a Guardian slap the helmet of the pilot, quite hard. I don’t think we were supposed to see all that. The helicopter veered away from the concrete rings sharply. The Classes were located away from the towns. I took Joseph’s hand in mine, curling my fingers between his, and squeezed. He squeezed back, his blonde hair sweeping back and forth in front of his eyes as he stared out across the sky. I know he didn’t want to show it, but I’m sure he was as nervous as I was.

It took us about two hours to arrive at our destination. I enjoyed every minute of the ride. The world seemed so big from where we were. Not being surrounded by concrete walls was a marvelous feeling. I felt like screaming or howling but I knew better than to draw any more attention to myself.

The
compound of the Classes was very different to Pau. From the air it looked like there was one big ring with two small rings inside at one end, and one big ring at the opposite end. It actually seemed to resemble a face with a surprised expression—big open eyes and a wide mouth. I looked around to see if this amused anyone else. No. They all looked petrified, their knees jittering, or holding themselves tight like they thought their insides would fall out. I felt sorry for them. For them, being separated from their parents was a big deal. Joseph was looking down at it with a quizzical expression on his face. I gave his hand a squeeze. He turned and grinned at me.

B
etween the inner rings was mottled green, not like the disordered chaos of the Wilderness but organized, like my mother’s patchwork curtains. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was from up here, but it looked like there were paths poking out here and there. I was hopeful. It was certainly different and that could be a good thing. When I looked back at Joseph, his expression had changed from one of amusement to very serious. He was deep in thought when we landed with a thud. We jolted in our seats and reality hit. He released my hand. One of the Guardians was talking but we couldn’t hear him until the blades of the chopper slowed, and then he was yelling at the top of his lungs, “…then go to the Centre and we’ll drop off your bags in your quarters.” He cleared his throat and in a softer tone said, “Off the helicopter everyone.” I giggled, which got me a harsh stare from some of the kids as well as the Guardian. It was different, but not that different. My humor was not appreciated here either.

We landed inside the mouth of the face. The walls were not as high here. I could actually see over them into what
looked like a garden. It was beautiful and utterly foreign. I could see so many trees I had never seen before. Some with fruit hanging from overburdened branches, also herbs and flowers. I had only seen a real flower once. It had seeded in our front lawn, blown from the outside. I saw it for only a second before a groundskeeper plucked it from the earth and threw it in his bag of clippings. It was tiny and delicate, with yellow petals and a brown center. In this garden there were colors unlike anything made or grown in Pau Brasil. I was still craning my head around, trying to get a better look, as they guided us into the first building.

The buildings were all grey concrete
, just like in Pau, but this collection of structures was grander and more imposing than our modest town buildings. They were overelaborate, with hideous, carved creatures climbing up the corners or sitting on the roof staring down at us. This was where the children had come to learn their trades, their fates, for over two hundred years. You could feel it, a mixture of history and solemnness. It was creepy, imagining dusty ghosts and stifled laughter floating down the halls.

Our small line of boys and girls was merged into a larger line as teenagers filtered in from other landing bays
, until there were about fifty or sixty of us. Each of us was wearing our grey uniform with our tree emblems printed on the front. A Guardian was facing us as we were guided through a large set of carved, wooden doors. “Take your place at a table and be silent.” He said it about three times, repeating himself as more of us entered the room. His voice echoed around the vast hall, which, once everyone was seated, was still two-thirds empty. I guess, years ago, there must have been more bodies to fill the space.

The Guardian stomped his foot once and cal
led attention.

“
Who are we?” he barked.

“
Citizens of the Woodlands.” The room echoed with the combined, unsure voices of sixty or so terrified teenagers. And I joined them. For once, I didn’t want to make up my own version. All my cheek had evaporated into tiny particles that clung onto the edges of my clothes like germs. I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t as scared as every other kid in here.

“
What do we see?” he said threateningly, his eyes squinting like he was trying to sift out the troublemakers early.

“
All kind.”

“
What don’t we see?” He scanned the room, connecting with different eyes of different colors but all with the same wide bewilderment reflected in them.

“
Own kind,” everyone said.

Then one kid yelled out
“Own kind” out of time with the others. The Guardian marched over to him and stood over his desk for the rest.

“
Our parents were?” he asked the boy.

“
Caretakers,” the boy whimpered.

“
Our allegiance is to?”

“
The Superiors. We defer to their judgment. Our war was our fault. The Superiors will correct our faults,” the boy muttered deeply to the top of his desk.

“
What was that?” the Guardian said, leaning on the boy’s hand with his baton, pressing it hard across the boy’s fingers.

The boy winced but didn
’t cry, “The Superiors. We defer to their judgment. Our war was our fault. The Superiors will correct our faults.” He yelled like the words couldn’t get out quick enough.

“
Right!” the Guardian said in a voice like snapping shears. He released the boy’s fingers and held up his baton, scanning the desks with it. “And this is why we do the Test,” he concluded. He stomped back to the front to face us and motioned to the other Guardians who were standing against the wall.

I felt like I missed something. There were a few confused faces, some shuffling in chairs, someone coughed. I turned around to find his face. Joseph looked as
puzzled as me. He shrugged his shoulders conveying his uncertainty. I didn’t realize we would be doing the Test straight off. I was hoping I might have some time to prepare. This was to decide the rest of my life. I needed to get it right.

The
Guardians walked through the rows of desks handing out stacks of colored paper and pencils, their heavy, black boots sending vibrations across the polished wood floor. The man at the front kept talking. Pulling his glasses over his nose when he read and pushing them into his hair when he was looking at us.

“
This is the written part of your test. Answer the questions honestly. If you answer dishonestly, we will know and you will be punished. There is no time limit. You may start as soon as you receive your packet. Raise your hand when you have completed each colored sheet and a Guardian will collect your answers.”

I stared down at the stack of paper.
So this was it, my life in a packet. I shrugged and started. Pink first. The questions were innocuous to begin with. ‘Do you like to be outdoors?’ or, ‘Do you enjoy a challenge?’ As I worked my way through, the questions became more detailed, more specific. They asked for answers to scientific questions like ‘how does the liver metabolize fat cells’. They were all multiple choice, and the answers all sounded the same to me, so I just picked one. I did try my best to answer the questions honestly. I was mindful of my habit to be sarcastic. I didn’t want to end up shoveling poo in a pig farm because I joked about loving the smell of slops in the morning.

I put my hand up when I finished and the Guardian collected my
last paper, perusing it carefully, making sure I had answered every question and ticked every box. He lifted his hand, indicating for me to stand. He scanned my wrist and then a barcode on the papers. I looked around and everyone was still writing, heads down, scribbling frantically. I had finished first. I was sure this couldn’t be a good thing. I was very worried I had missed something important, rushed through something I shouldn’t have, but it was too late. I was already being ushered out of the room and taken to the next stage of testing.

I actually enjoyed the next part. I was brought to a room full of various stations,
fluorescent lights bearing down on me, giving everything a too shiny, too bright kind of glow. On each table were different puzzles to solve. There were boxes made of wood, intricately carved into different segments that we had to pull apart and then put back together. There were mazes to solve and scenes to reconstruct from memory. Again, at the end of each task they scanned my wrist and then entered information into their readers. I found I could do these easily, feeling satisfied at the end that this, at least, I could do.

The last part was harder. It was an
all-encompassing physical test. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was shining down on the grass, which was so green it looked like candy. It was hard to believe that this morning I was home, staring at myself in the mirror.

We were tested on strength, agility, flexibility, speed, endurance,
vision, and hearing. I did ok in most of the categories, except for flexibility. Sitting in the wet grass with my feet planted flat against a vertical plank of wood, I was told to touch my toes. I strained but I could only reach halfway down my shins. The guardian hovering over this station scowled at me and told me to try again. When I had the same result, she made me bow down while she pressed hard against my back. “Try harder,” she snapped. I wanted to snap back at her and tell her I was not a tube of toothpaste she could bend and squeeze, but I let her push me until every muscle in my back was stretching and screaming at me to release. She finally stopped pushing and grunted as she wrote down my results. My body sprung back like a rubber band and I moved quickly to the next station, worried she was going to try and tie my body into a bow if I hung around for too long.

T
he Guardians watched our every move, scanning, ticking boxes, frowning; making us start over if they weren’t satisfied it was our best effort. I watched Joseph when I could. He, of course, was excelling at everything, as I knew he would. He was strong, agile, and undertook each task with ease. I was surprised to note that he wasn’t that fast though. I guess no one’s perfect. He looked focused and intense as he bent down to pick up the various weights handed to him, his blond curls falling down over his brow. I don’t think his head turned my way once.

When we were
finished, we were told to sit on the benches bordering the large, grassed field and watched the rest complete their tests. Girls and boys separate. No talking. We all just stared out into the green, watching our companions push themselves to their limits. I wondered if I should have tried harder but I never wanted to be placed in a physical, laboring type class. All was quiet until we saw one girl throw down her weight and shout at one of the Guardians, “I can’t do it! I’ve already tried twice, stop asking me!”

It was so
fast. Blink and you would have missed it. Menacingly swift and efficient, the Guardian whipped out an extending metal bar from his belt, cracked the back of her knees so that she fell forward, and then struck her with full force on the back of her neck. I’m sure I heard it snap and she fell to the ground, lifeless. I heard sharp intakes of breath and a few hushed whispers. This was to remind us of our place. This was not to be taken lightly; this was not going to be enjoyable. The Superiors were ever-present and ever cruel. One mistake and your life could be forfeit.

“
You two there,” the Guardian pointed to two boys who were working close to the girl. “Pick her up and take her to infirmary, from there they will direct you to the crematorium.” The boys moved towards her but hesitated, unsure of how to lift her, scared to touch the body. “Don’t just stand there. She’s not hurt—she’s dead—just pick her up!” The boys picked her up gently and started walking towards a building at the back of the grounds that had a red cross over the door.

“
Wait!” The boys paused. The Guardian walked over to them, held up the girl’s limp wrist, and scanned her number. “Ana Keffi,” said the computerized voice. The Guardian moved his finger this way and that until the word “deleted” was spoken by the reader. I shuddered. Their cruelty shocked me still. Even after everything I had seen, and experienced myself, I couldn’t believe that human beings could act in this way. I was close to being sick. “Back to it!” he yelled. Everyone returned to their activities, more silent and more serious.

When everyone was finished
they asked us to form lines, boys to one side and girls to the other. Two female Guardians dressed in black skirts and wide-shouldered jackets marched over to us. They looked very similar, light brown hair pulled back into a tight bun pinned under their hats. The only difference was the shorter woman seemed less tidy. They told us to follow them, the untidy one hitching her tights up as she walked. I watched as three male Guardians led the boys around the edge of the field, following the bend of the low wall that edged the garden until they were out of sight. I tried to catch Joseph’s eye but he wouldn’t look up. I watched him until he disappeared around the bend.