Token (Token Chronicles) (4 page)

As I come up and take a few deep breaths of needed air, I see her already sitting on the edge of our porch. She was the one who started calling the slab of stone that juts out from the wall with the bench our porch. She said we needed a proper home. A place where we could eat, play, read, and write together. Imagine her surprise when I told her I could neither read nor write. The Ambassadors who run the Islands don’t see much of a purpose in educating us in that way. They thought we should only be able to be physically strong and capable. She would have none of it. She promised to teach me, and she has, although, I am not a completely polished product yet. Luckily, in my time spent scavenging the entire Island, I had run across a rickety hut hidden between a jumble of mangled palm trees. This was the only sign of any previous civilization on our entire Island I had ever spotted. I suppose Grodar made sure they swept all of the Hawk Islands clean, erasing any indicators of existing life. The only reason this building had survived was because it was concealed so properly. I only found the place by accident. I had gotten lost one day and stopped to shimmy up one of the tallest palm trees I could find to see where I was. Once I reached the top, I looked directly below me and saw the remains of a tattered roof. I dropped down and upon entering the hut, I noticed the floors were made of solid wooden boards, although they were broken and unsafe to walk on in many places. This was amazing in itself as our shacks’ floors were merely palm leaves over sand. There was not much left in the hut. It looked as if someone was in a hurry to get out and things were strewn around everywhere. I found some old cans of food, green beans and hominy, neither of which I had ever eaten before. But I left them. No telling how many years they had been there. I found an old gold watch that didn’t work anymore, and I brought it back with me. Most importantly, I found an old and weathered poetry book and plenty of paper that had been windblown throughout the rooms. I gathered them and collected a pen and brought them back to our place. Getting them safely to the porch underwater was a little tricky, though. I had to gather several ten foot banana leaves and wrapped the book and papers several times and secured them with numerous strings of bark. I encased the banana-leafed cocoon in my pack and dove in and got the books there safe and dry. They never leave now. This is why we come here so much. To read to each other. To talk about our ideas and dreams. I have even started writing some, but every time my pen touches paper I can only write about her, but I am not comfortable enough with my work to let her read it. It is not good enough and probably never will be.

Hadley gazes at me from her seat with her feet barely dangling in the water. Her shoulders are hunched over with her hands gripping the sides of the porch for support. Her long curly blonde hair is still wet from her swim and is swung to one side in front of her right shoulder. I know she has not been here too long. She flashes her smile at me, and I see her dimples appear in both cheeks. Her emerald green eyes pour through me, and she playfully says, “You’re late.”

I reply with my usual response in a gentle tone, “But you’re still here waiting for me.”

She looks me in the eyes and says, “I will always wait for you.”

I swim over to her and hoist myself up beside her on the porch in one swift motion. I lean over and kiss her on the forehead softly. I still have a hard time believing this is the same pretty girl I saw get off the Helo that day so many years ago. She had tried to talk to me several times her first few years on the Island, but I was so shy I could never manage more than a simple hello and head nod. I would always walk away quickly just thankful I didn’t embarrass myself. One day in the District, I saw one of the Holds named Gunnar abusing his power just tormenting Nayze by jolting him again and again. He was laughing the whole time while doing it while the rest of the camp was just standing around watching, afraid to intervene. I ran up to him and struck him with all the strength I could gather directly in his stomach. This was unprecedented. He toppled over for a few minutes, but I knew he had seen who hit him. I picked Nayze up and put him on my shoulders to carry him back to our shack. Once I got there, I heard Gunnar raging outside. He was furious.

He called to me, “Kincaid, get your cowardly butt out here, now!”

I walked outside expecting a fist fight, but he had something different planned for me. I had never seen anyone jolted longer than a few minutes at one time. He began jolting me, but never gave me a break. He stood over me, glaring down. He looked as if he was truly enjoying doing this to another human being. His eyes were empty, emotionless. I was in constant torment. I had never been through so much pain in my life. No one else would dare stand up to him again knowing they would meet the exact same fate. I saw Gunnar start to walk away, and I began to think it was finally over. But, wait, no. The pain wasn’t stopping. He was just going to leave me like this? For how long? The pain started to become unbearable, and I just kept thinking about how death would at least be a sweet release. At this time, Hadley knelt to the ground next to me, and she grabbed my hand. She didn’t leave my side for hours. She stayed there all day telling me everything was going to be okay. The pain did eventually stop. We never saw Gunnar again. Apparently, the Ambassador didn’t like how he was torturing someone for no reason. Someone who was high on their list to bring in a lot of money one day. But that day, the insurmountable pain I felt, every second was worth it. It brought her to me, and me to her. We have been inseparable ever since.

I slickly swing my pack off of my shoulder and set it to the side. I pluck the mangos out and begin to cut them. I have done this so many times it has become second nature to me. I stand one of the fruits up and cut it into three pieces discarding the pit. I quickly dice the two halves horizontally and vertically into cubes until they are ready in a matter of seconds. I hand one over to her, and we begin to pop a few pieces into our mouths. The soft and juicy fruit explodes in contrasting sweet and bitter flavors.

I can already tell today is going to be one of those days our conversations are more intense rather than light and jovial. Her brows are deeply furrowed.

She keeps her head down when she says, “The Retreat Feast tonight has gotten me thinking. You know, we are only a few quarters away from us being sent up for auction. What are we going to do, Kincaid? What if we get bought by different Elitists?”

I, too, have been contemplating this same scenario for a long time. It is not likely we go to the same place. The Elitists are nothing if not creatures of habit. They all have particular tastes in the Tokens they buy. Most prefer to buy Tokens of the same gender, but some do look for specific characteristics for all of their Tokens to possess. Hadley and I are both fortunate enough to have the same fair colored hair. At least we have that in common. Maybe we do have a chance. I put my right arm around her shoulder and gently pull her head into my chest with my other arm and try to comfort her.

“No matter what happens, I will never stop loving you. If we do get split apart, there will be no other man, who will work as hard as I will. I will be the best Token in our history, and maybe, they will grant me my freedom. I have heard it has happened on occasion.”

She looks at me with doubt in her eyes and replies, “Maybe.”

I know my words aren’t good enough to alleviate her worries. I counter with another offering of solace.

“We still have at least another six months together. What happens after that is going to be out of both of our controls. You know that. Let’s enjoy the time together we know we have left.”

She agrees, and we decide to save this conversation for another night when the time draws nearer. I begin to let out a long yawn, and she gives me a concerned look and asks, “Are you tired? Did you have another dream last night?”

“Yes, but this one was much more lucid, it seemed so real. It has been the same one several nights in a row now.”

“What was it about?”

I recollect what happened and tell her, "I saw a giant man with light brown hair in a long braid down his back and a very bushy beard. His face was angry, but his eyes were the darkest blue I had ever seen. He just kept pointing at me yelling at me to do something. I could never quite make it out, though. He was surrounded by lightning and fire, with the deafening sounds of thunder, wind, and rain drowning at all other noise behind him.”

I hear Hadley gasp, and I look over and she has the most aghast look I have ever seen before on her face. Horrified, as if she had seen a ghost. The color even seems to drain from her face momentarily. I am worried. What could I have just said to elicit such a reaction? But she recuperates and seems to be unscathed.

“Is everything ok?”

Hadley assures me, “Yes, it’s just… I feel like I’ve heard a scary story similar to that one before when I was a child. I can’t put my finger on it though.”

Not wanting to risk frightening her anymore, I quit talking about it. I lay back onto the cool stone, and the sound of the gushing water from the waterfall has a calming influence that washes over me. Hadley lies next to me still keeping her head buried on my bare chest. A perfect fit. We lay like this for a while until I am startled by a loud crack of thunder outside. We must have dozed off for a few minutes. I immediately realize if the weather gets bad, the walk back will be harder, and we might be late to the Feast. I lightly kiss her on the cheek to wake her up, and we prepare for the swim back. I realize we didn’t even get to read to each other today, but we will have time for it tomorrow after our labor shifts. I have another day out in the pineapple fields ahead of me, and she has to go through another day of physical training.

We emerge on the other side into the lagoon and walk ashore. Hadley hates the long walk back so it has become our routine for me to let her ride on my back while we walk. She usually kisses my neck and whispers to me the whole way so it is well worth the extra effort. I bend down for her to hop on, but she says she feels like walking today. We hike side-by-side holding hands the entire way until we get to the outskirts of camp. We are not allowed to show any signs of public affection when we are in the confines of the camp so I give her a quick kiss before our hands separate. When we get to the District at the center of the camp, I can tell the festivities will be commencing soon.

This will be the first Retreat Feast held on our Island. I have heard of these since I was old enough to remember, but this is the first time any of us have been old enough to be auctioned. I still have six months until I am to be open for auction, and Hadley still has nine. The Feast is for those on Island 3 who have been sold at auction. Our version of a going away party. It is a bittersweet event. We all get to gather out in the District at night, and there is a spread of food like I have never seen before. Normally, our meals consist of one fruit with a few other nuts or lettuce leaves. They give us enough energy to make it to the next meal, barely, but nothing extra. Laid out all across the tables has to be any and every kind of food available on this Island: Pineapples, bananas, strawberries, raspberries, coconuts, mangos, macadamia nuts, turtles, and every type of fish imaginable, some of which are cooked and some raw fish neatly wrapped with rice. Then I notice something I have never seen before. There is a deep hole dug into the ground creating a pit that appears to be lined with stones. In the pit, there is a pig wrapped in banana leaves impaled with a rotating spit over a small fire with orange burning coals. It gives me an odd feeling to see a pig cooking in such a manner. With its hind front legs curved up towards its chest and hind legs laid out as if it were a dog waiting to have its stomach rubbed. I get over it quickly, however. We do not eat much meat here on the Islands other than the aquatic creatures we catch. I have never had pig before in my life, but I have heard the Grods and Holds talk of the delicacy before. The smell is already making me salivate. I don’t think I can just take their word for it; I’m going to have to try this out for myself tonight. I look up at the skies, and I am thankful the bad weather that seemed to be previously looming has dissipated.

I glimpse over at the center table, and I see all those who are leaving us tomorrow. By my count, there are twenty-two of them. I know all of them, of course, but I see one of them is Cabel. We used to be much closer friends because we always seemed to get the same shifts for labor and training. He was the one who whipped me into shape during physical training challenging me to push myself to the next level. I don’t think he liked it too much when I started to pass him up, but I owe him for helping me. They decided to start separating the shifts by camp zones and who your shack mates were. I have not worked with him since, but I need to remember to tell him thank you, say good-bye and wish him luck wherever he is heading.

 After a night full of loading our bellies more than they have ever been before, the Feast is nearing an end. I could not eat another bite even if they threatened to jolt me over and over again.

I am reminded I have not seen Hadley in a while so I walk towards her shack. As I am approaching, I spot her sitting down with her head tucked between her legs. I vaguely hear her say something as if she is talking to someone, but I must be imagining things. When I get closer, she looks up at me. I know she has been crying uncontrollably. I have seen her this way a few times before when she begins to think about what happened to her family back home, and it used to tear me up inside. Still does. I am about to try to console her, but she stands up quickly, gets on her tiptoes, and gives me a long and passionate kiss on the lips.

She then leans over to my ear and whispers, “I will always love you. Never forget that.”

“Of course I won’t. I love you too. Always and forever.”

I am about to lean in for another kiss, but she tenderly plants one on my forehead and says, “I need to go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow at the porch after our shifts.”