Chapter 4
Patronizing Plans
It is the first day of classes.
I am jarred awake by Beatrice snatching the curtains open while yelling at the top of her lungs, “Time to wake up!” Bright lights shine down on me through the chandeliers, and I crack one eye open to see what all the fuss is about.
“You have exactly ten minutes to get ready,” she yells out, now standing in the center of the room.
The girls in my space turn on their beds reluctantly. I sit up and look over to Zia, whose peach-colored bed is right next to mine. She jumps up in shock and looks at the clock to see it is 4 a.m.
Beatrice looks our way and begins her monologue.
“If you are more than ten seconds late to a class, you must report to detention. If you do not walk straight, you must report to detention. If you raise your voice at anyone, you must report to detention. If you express an excessive emotion or action such as anger or crying, you must report to detention. If you miss more than two questions in class, you must report to detention.”
Trying to look calm and collected, I give her a diplomatic smile, then walk toward the dressing station. I better be ready to fit into this system. I have no choice but to be ready for The Commons.
I step into The Commons hallway with a minute to spare. It is a long, endless golden path with transparent windows, baronial brown blocks and golden red stones inscribed on the edges of the walls. The hallway is packed with students, and everyone walks in silence, intensely focused.
I enter a classroom with French Empire crystal chandelier lights and perfectly aligned tables. In the corner, I see that curly-haired blonde girl I met at Oblivion.
She made it here?
And so did I.
So, both of us… that’s strange, I think to myself.
She ignores me, shoving past me and sitting down. I think she has something against me. Great, just what I need. I notice Zia sitting close to the front, so I sit next to her.
I’d rather the curly girl recognize me than a Patron. Just as I look down, a finger lingers on my desk, its strength marking a line on it. Oh my… It’s Patron Pesh. My heart drops.
My eyes widen, my lips open, I am so screwed in this school. He is going to destroy me.
My eyes dart down immediately. Perhaps he won’t notice me.
He does.
I can feel his eyes striking into the core of my soul, like he has nothing but disdain toward my being. It’s clear he does not want me here in this school. I keep my calm and manage to stay still.
Pesh looks away. “Time’s up,” he says.
The classroom door shuts automatically before two boys can enter. Outside, I see Beatrice taking the boys away. I assume they are reporting to detention, since they are late.
Standing at a distance from Pesh, as if she is too unworthy to be in proximity of his royal highness, is a woman with short black hair and circle glasses. From what I read in The Commons Binder Beatrice handed to us, she is my teacher, Madam Dey.
Madam Dey hands out some papers to the left of the class, while Pesh distributes a stack to the right. We all stare down at our desks. The room is so silent you can hear a pin drop.
“My name is Pesh, and I understand that no one should be looking into my eye. No one.” He slaps the paper on my desk as if he is speaking only to me, to warn me, to show me his discontent with my former gaze on him. Jeez, I just looked at his fingers… goodness.
I blink, caught unawares. His gaze strikes across my frame and I look away, then down at my paper. On the side of my paper, I see a blinking note: cell phone privileges suspended for six months for looking a Patron in the eye.
But I didn’t even look him in the eye! Why is he being so mean to me? Is this for what happened during The Selection? But he acted like he didn’t notice through my blindfolds.
Okay, this is horrible. But it’s not like I have anyone at home who is dying to call me, so it isn’t that bad.
I wish I could be as submissive as the others, but I can’t help my curiosity, especially now he’s exceptionally pissing me off! My eyes wander toward him, taking a quick peek at the snake tattoo on his wrist. I wonder what it means. I look away instantly at the sound of his voice.
“Let’s get one thing clear. I am not your teacher. Madam Dey will be your instructor. In The Commons, you will go through a series of six tests that each start with the letters in the word, Common. These tests will go on for the first six weeks and will determine what major you will be placed in.”
He writes on the board.
Cognitive
Oratory
Math and Science
Meaning and Memory
Observation
Nature
Commons Grading Scale:
A – Average
B – Better Than Average
C – Common Distinction
I guess a C is the highest score, interesting…
“You may have heard that there are six zones in The Commons. This class will offer you the opportunity to be placed in one of six career pathways. In The Commons, there are 70,000 acres of school property. Each zone of study spans about ten thousand acres of land. You are currently in the Cognitive Zone and this course is obviously your COGN 1000. I am the Patron responsible for all of you, so I will be monitoring all your results and leading some of your tests. On the packet handed to you, on page one, you will note that your major of study at The Commons is dependent upon how well you do in the tests. It also describes our grading scale.”
My gaze scans the paper, writing down every word Pesh says as he continues.
“Also, with each zone of study, you will hone a Common Power. It’s not magic, it’s Common Powers, something you can learn through Common Laws.
The first rule of Common Powers is—it doesn’t exist, until it does.
But most of you don’t care about that, plus, it will not be mentioned again until your senior year. Now, to what you all care about…”
I look down on my paper to see the career path described after each category.
Cognitive path – secret career field.
Oratory path – president, monarch, CEO, politician, linguist, public speaker etc…
Math and Science path – physicist, microbiologist, astronomer, engineer, doctor, scientist etc…
Meaning and Memory path – semiotician, psychoanalyst, mnemonist, researcher, theologian, philosopher etc…
Observation path – inspector, secret agent, detective, analyst, spy, private investigator etc…
Nature path – astrologist, explorer, geologist, special forces, alpinist, sailor etc…
“You will notice that it is pretty straightforward, however there is no path outlined on the paper to becoming like me, which I’m sure you are all dying to know.
There is, however, a path outlined to becoming a Sachi or Lerod.
Sachis are selected by teachers, so impress Madam Dey.
Lerods are selected by Patrons, so impress me.
Patrons are selected by the invisible powers that be, so impress God. ”
Everyone chuckles, except me. I simply listen, trying to read him.
“Stop laughing.”
Everyone gulps at his serious tone.
He eyes us, continuing, his voice again casual.
“But here’s the secret—if you impress me on the Cognitive Test, I may eventually recommend you to be a Patron to the Powers that Be.
There is a 0.1 percent rate of you passing the Cognitive Test with an impressive enough grade.
It is a higher percentage than your chances of getting into this institution. So, it’s definitely doable.”
Is he being sarcastic?
“Here at The Commons, you must fight for your title. No one will hand it to you for free.”
He hands out the test paper to the last student, and leaves. The door locks automatically behind him.
I look up, my mind overwhelmed by what just happened.
“You are all going to be evaluated for the Cognitive Test, one after the other, according to the call time on the second page of the sheets that were handed to you,” Madam Dey says. Her voice quakes in anxiousness, but she shouts at us to maintain dominance.
I look at my paper. My evaluator for the Cognitive Test is Pesh… this is just great! Zia’s is Madam Dey.
I heard this evaluation is notorious for exposing the secrets in the best of us.
I must be careful how I speak, how I react, even how I blink.
I should be scared, like Zia, who begins to shake nervously.
But I am not particularly scared of the test. I am tremendously terrified of something else…
knowing that Pesh is my evaluator. But on the test, I’m more relaxed there.
And I am not sure why. Is it confidence in myself to pass the Cognitive Test?
I’m not sure. I wonder how Levon did, and I can’t help but think if it relates to how she went missing…
I waited for Levon to call me. My palms sweated in anticipation as I fidgeted with my new, golden-speckled blanket in excitement, legs crossed, conversation ready, in my dimly lit room illuminated by 19 candles on top of Levon’s red velvet cake.
I was a little scared that I could have done too much.
I had a billion thoughts running through my mind…
Happy birthday, Levon. I love you, Levon. I can’t wait to see you…
I wait. And wait. She doesn’t call!
Ring. Ring. Ring. I call her. No response.
Again, I try.
And again.
Still no response.
I tried to convince myself that there must be a rational explanation for this. Tomorrow, she’d call and explain, and everything would go back to normal.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
No response.
Levon had missed my call for the second day in a row. It’s okay, she’ll call tomorrow and explain. There’s no way she will not respond at some point, right?
I tried not to think of any deadly thoughts.
My hands instinctively reach to grab my phone at 12:00 noon.
No answer. Dang it! I bang my head against my bed with a sigh.
It was time to face my cold reality.