Chapter 3
Departure
The dreaded day has come.
I eat a small bowl of chocolate cereal and, shortly after my meal, my parents and I head to the airport. I cannot tell if I am more excited about seeing my sister or more terrified that she might not be there.
We search to find Commonaire, the only public airline that flies to the Island of Commonda.
I now learn that Commonda is a massive private island off the coast of California.
I look at my golden ticket again, specially delivered to us by The Commons.
Apparently, first class is an insult to this airline.
Elite class is the only option available.
My first time flying that way. For a fortune at that.
We make our way through the gate, and I get a quick peek of inside the plane. To say these Commonaire planes are luxurious is an understatement! To me, these are not planes. These are mansions that fly.
Before we enter, my mother helps my dad fix his tie. “Do you have to wear a suit all the time?”
“This is an important day. Our second daughter is going to The Commons. Soon, she will be the best doctor and lawyer in the world.” Not just in the country. In the world. Not just a doctor. A doctor and lawyer. Totally foreseeable.
He’s been subtly sending the signals. Well, he’s not really subtle anymore. He was a cardiac surgeon before he met my mom, who, at the time, was a lawyer. That’s why my dad liked her. Not for her beauty, but for her brains. That’s what he always says… teases. Though I’m sure it’s both.
My parents and I enter the plane to see a group of about ten students with their parents.
Most of the students’ faces are blank. I feel their scrutiny as soon as I walk in.
I perceive it before they look up in surprise; before they look at one another.
Right before their faces become stoic and their bodies go rigid.
“Let’s find our seats,” my mom whispers, walking toward the parent section of the plane.
“Yep.” I proceed to sit down. I’m used to this.
“Alright hen, see you soon.” She turns to my dad, whispering something in Gaelic.
She has a wee bit of Scottish in her. Well, not a little, actually a lot.
My grandpa is from Glasgow. He visited the U.S during the holidays a while back and that’s how he met my grandma.
They dated long distance for a while, then he ended up moving to the U.S for my grandma after they got married.
They later moved back to Glasgow after my mom turned eighteen.
I usually travel to Scotland to see them every other summer. I’m really going to miss visiting them this summer and for the next three years since The Commons doesn’t allow any summer breaks. Or any breaks at all for that matter.
“So! Are you excited?” the girl next to me exclaims as she and her friend stare at me.
Every inch of me would rather ignore their fake friendliness, but the inquisitive part of me needs their brain, so I smile. “Yeah, something like that. You?”
“Who isn’t? You’re on the right flight, right?”
“We’re going to the island of Commonda?” I say.
“Right. We’re going to paradise!”
I glance at her, then sit back to process my thoughts. While the plane prepares for takeoff, I think about Levon and the things I have heard about The Commons: deathly, success, presidents, Patrons, and dungeons.
I overhear the student beside me whisper to the girl on the other side of her, “I heard an Air Patron is flying this airplane.”
I notice there is a book on Commonda Island stacked in a private bookshelf next to me.
How nice! I pick it up and read it to pass the time and to avoid more conversation.
We are not allowed to bring our own books to The Commons, so my Tbr pile will be lonely for a while.
Knowing that I might die with a pending Tbr list stresses me out.
Just as I recline my golden chair to get more comfortable, it morphs into a bed.
A blanket appears, covering me simultaneously.
I am taken aback, but I try to relax and enjoy the warm blanket.
This flight is supposed to be really fast, thanks to The Commons unprecedented technology.
After a few minutes, a button appears in front of me.
I click to select a drink, playing around with the food options and instantly, the pink drink and a steaming plate of fried rice appears on my table, along with an assortment of delicacies.
How on earth… I take a moment, then place it to the side, still a little overwhelmed by what just happened.
I want to devour this, but I am too nervous to eat.
I peek through the dome-shaped windows. My gaze is arrested by a sight that chills me to the core. Below the horizon stretches land carved into the shape of a green dragon reptile. My eyes trace the gaping maw of the dragon’s mouth. A realization crashes over me. I’m in the dragon’s lair now.
As our plane bolts forward, dread washes over me as I realize this is Commonda Island. This is Commons territory.
Screech… Screech… we are on the ground.
Upon stepping out of the plane, I step onto a large, flat concrete space.
It looks like a phone screen. The sky looks like artificial clouds, and cool mist descends from the skies like some sort of ultra-advanced filtration that resembles a humidifier.
I assume it is meant to purify the air from the plane’s exhaust.
In the distance, I see other planes with students disembarking. Most planes only have one to two students. That’s some luxury! I hear laughter and eager voices. My heart is pounding like the sound of their drumming steps. I begin to wonder what I am getting myself into, but I shake it off.
Three jets have different languages inscribed on each. “Commonaire Airlines” is written in Mandarin, Dutch, and what seems like Hindi to me. I am trying to read the others when I see ten muscular beings in white. They look like Air Patrons.
“Everyone! This way, quickly. Keep up, or you’ll be going back to whatever village you came from,” the Air Patron in front of our plane commands. I feel annoyed at his arrogant tone, but he is a Patron. I guess they can say and do whatever they want, right? That’s not scary at all.
We follow him as he directs us toward the check in station.
“So, is this how Levon’s orientation was?” I say to my mom, but she is on her phone.
“Mom!”
“What? I don’t remember. Stop asking me useless questions. I’m answering a work email,” my mom whispers, taking a quick peek at the Air Patron, to avoid disrespecting him with a loud voice. I’m not sure why she feels the need to speak so low and be so harsh to me at the same time.
We follow the Air Patron. I feel like a detective.
I cannot let myself indulge in the pleasures of The Commons.
I cannot forget why I am here. I cannot let myself conform to the system.
I must be alert. At all times. For The Commons is my enemy, and it roars like a great lion.
I am certain it would not and could not devour me, let alone impress me.
Wow… What the heck!
That building is made of golden dust and water glass. What on earth is that?
I do not react quite so irrationally. My lips are sealed, my eyes observe silently, and I simply walk past the water glass stadium into The Commons like it is any other school.
The Air Patron directs us past a series of triangular, wavy, structured houses. A gray body of water surrounds us, reflecting the buildings.
The Patron instructs, “Enter into the Conosseum, find the hexator elevators, and go to the twentieth floor. When you get off, the scanners will locate you and lead you in the right direction. Parents: Once your child is checked in, you will be required to leave immediately. Don’t make us escort you out. ”
Why does everything in The Commons freakin’ start with a C, it is so confusing.
I follow the crowd as we enter a giant, round shaped Colosseum-like palace illuminated by lustrous blue lights.
Inside, we navigate through a moving forty-eight-story vessel with a circular stairway and pathways of interconnected hexagons.
The circular frames rotate the hexagons like a moving elevator.
As we approach the seventh floor, my dad holds onto me, terrified.
“He did that to Levon as well,” my mom says. “Scaredy pants!”
“Just because I’m scared of heights—” he defends himself, but stops speaking at the sound of the hexator.
The hexator stops on the twentieth floor. As I take a step out, I feel my feet pulled forward with pressure. “Am I the only one who felt that?” I ask.
“Oh, that happened last time too,” my dad responds. “It’s just how the floors are in The Commons.”
“Oh, I think it’s because they are touch-sensitive floors, so they pull us in the right direction with magnetic force. Now I understand why we had to buy special frictionless shoes,” I deduce.
“Ahh, that’s it, smarty pants!” my dad comments.
I can’t help but smile at his playful praise. It’s nice to be able to spend time with my dad. I almost forget how fun he is to be around. We used to play together all the time before he was roped into the world of politics by my mom.
Around me, I notice a more diverse body of students than those on my plane.
I hear some languages I have never heard before.
Our files fly to us labeled with our individual names, steered by magnetic levitation and an automated voice.
I collect mine from a transparent shape-shifting robot-like box that scans my iris for verification.
I continue walking alongside my parents, pretending like I have seen such things before.
The Commons is so much more advanced in technology than the entire world, and their building makes a statement to that fact.
We enter a C-shaped, white-domed space made of silver-colored glass. I look up to see an open roof, revealing dark blue skies that appear too filtered to be real. I walk to find my terminal.