Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
The sound of laughter and the creak of swings send an ache through me. If I close my eyes, I can imagine myself back at the playground at school, having fun with my friends like the last three weeks haven’t happened.
The grass feels cool through my thin shorts.
It soothes my bruised butt as I swipe angrily at the tears that reappear at the thought of home.
This isn’t my home, even if they keep insisting it is.
This place is awful. No matter how many times they paddle me or keep me from eating, I won’t listen to them.
I’m not their daughter. I have a mom. Even if she doesn’t want me anymore.
When I open my eyes, two kids are walking toward me.
I recognize Jane, one of the other daughters who stays in my dorm, but I don’t know the boy she has with her.
My body tightens up and I draw my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
The other kids mostly ignore me since I keep to myself.
I haven’t tried to make friends. I’ve been too busy waiting for this nightmare to end.
“Why do you always sit under this tree?” Jane asks, flopping down on the ground beside me.
Before I can answer, the boy speaks up. “You know that’s not what the governors mean when they say we have to live in harmony with nature. You don’t have to hug trees.” His brown eyes are full of mischief when I look up at him but there’s no meanness in his teasing.
“I’m not hugging it. I’m leaning against it.”
He sits down on my other side and plucks a blade of grass. “I’m Troy.”
“Sybil,” I mumble, sniffing.
“How old are you?” Jane asks.
“Twelve.”
“Us too.”
Troy cocks his head toward her. “Excuse me? I’m thirteen. How dare you accuse me of being a twelve-year-old child when I’m clearly a man?”
Jane rolls her eyes but both of them wear a grin. “You’re barely a teenager.”
He ignores her and focuses on me. “It sucks here, huh?”
His words catch me off guard and it’s the first time I’ve laughed in forever. “I want to go home.”
Jane nods knowingly and picks at a scab on her skinned knee. “I know. I did too, but we can’t.”
“How long have you lived here?” I ask her.
“My dad brought me when I was nine. I cried and got punished a lot at first too. Before Troy showed me how to make things better. They won’t let us leave. We have to do what they say.”
“I won’t. I hate them.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You can hate them. Just don’t be so obvious about it,” Troy advises.
Jane turns to sit cross legged facing me. “He’s right. Disobeying and arguing just gets you punished. You can’t win. I was the same as you at first. By the time Troy taught me what to do, my ribs were sticking out farther than yours are, and I swear my butt was constantly black and blue.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I confess.
Troy lowers his voice and his eyes fill with a mischievous gleam. “I’ll tell you what we do if you pinky swear not to tattle on us. Because the matrons will hit us hard enough to knock our asses over into the berry fields like a ping pong ball.”
A giggle spills out of me as I nod, and he gestures toward the small playground where matrons watch over the kids playing. “Look at Matron Mary. What do you think of her?”
Matron Mary’s lips are always pinched up like she sucked a lemon. She stares at the playground like a hawk, giving a warning look to any kid who gets too loud. “Stupid sour old cow.”
Jane giggles and nods with encouragement. “And what about Steward Hal?”
Steward Hal walks across the edge of the playground to talk to Matron Mary with some kind of tool in his hand. He never talks to any children. He shoved me out of his way once to walk past me. “Ugly jerk.”
“Okay,” Troy says. “Every time you have to say matron, pretend matron means stupid cow. Every time you have to say steward, pretend it means ugly jerk. You can do it with all of them. All they hear is yes matron, no steward. But you’ll know it’s yes, you stupid cow or no, you ugly jerk. It’ll make you feel better.”
It’s crazy but I like the idea. “What do you pretend to call them?”
A wide smile breaks across his face, and he looks around before answering. “Matron is bitch face and steward is asshole.”
My laugh relieves some of the tightness in my chest. “I like yours better.”
“I’m happy to share.” Troy brings a blade of grass to his lips and blows on it. The sudden sharp whistle surprises me.
“How did you do that?” I ask.
“It’s easy. Here, I’ll show you.” He plucks another and hands it to me. “Hold it with your thumbs like this, pull it tight, and then.” He blows again to demonstrate.
It only takes me two tries. The loud whistle that comes out like magic makes me smile for the first time in weeks.
“You got it!” Troy announces.
My stomach drops when I see our whistling hasn’t gone unnoticed. Matron Mary makes her way in our direction. She looks down at me with the same expression she always wears, whether she’s teaching someone how to make their bed or blistering a behind with the paddle. A sort of bored, resigned look.
“Sybil, I’m glad to see you socializing.”
“Yes, Matron.” My voice is shaky. “We were just making the grass whistle.”
She nods and her response lets me relax a little. “My father showed me that trick when I was young.”
Troy smiles up at her. “When you were young? Please, Matron, you’re still in your prime. The sun practically shines brighter when you walk in.”
“Enough of your foolishness, boy.” She doesn’t sound upset with his playful flattery. “Your dad is looking for you. He’s at barn one.”
That gets Troy to his feet. “Sorry, ladies. Duty calls. Men stuff, you understand.”
Jane snorts and shakes her head as he jogs away.
Matron Mary gazes down at me. “I’m lifting your restriction, Sybil. I’m happy to see you making an effort.”
“Does that mean I’m allowed to eat?” The gnawing pit in my stomach has become a constant dull ache.
“Yes, you may resume your meals.” A cry from one of the younger children on the other side of the playground demands her attention.
As soon as she walks away, Jane beams at me. “Okay, Bitch Face Mary said you’re off restriction. Let’s go see if we can get some food then go play basketball, okay? This is our only fun day of the week.”
“Okay.” My chest feels lighter, and a little hope seeps in. I can’t change how things are, but I’m not alone anymore. I have friends.
Jane moves through the place unbothered, leading me around a school trailer.
There are multiple school trailers set around the playground, each dedicated to different skills.
One is for the younger kids to learn basic reading and math.
The others are dedicated to wife skills like sewing, knitting, and cooking.
The older boys go out to the barns to learn their jobs.
We enter the empty children’s dining room, and I follow Jane as she weaves between the tables to poke her head through the kitchen door. “Matron Ruth?”
“No, you don’t,” Matron Ruth says, good naturedly. “I’m all out of pudding cups so shoo.” She emerges from the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron.
“I’m not here for me. Matron Mary let Sybil off of restriction, but she missed lunch. Can you please get her something?”
Matron Ruth looks down at me, and I’m relieved to see some compassion in her eyes. Sometimes it feels like I’m living with robots who only act without feeling. “Well, we’d better before a strong wind blows her away. Come on back.”
Jane grabs my hand and we follow her through the door into a kitchen that looks like the one at my school did.
With long counters, deep sinks and multiple ovens.
“Are we having pizza tonight?” Jane asks excitedly at the sight of rectangular pans full of flat dough.
“Do you want help? I can spread the sauce.”
“No thank you. Sit yourself up there with your friend.” She gestures to a counter in the corner with two tall bar stools then disappears behind a door.
Jane clambers up to sit and I do the same. “Matron Ruth is nice,” she tells me, leaning her chin on her hand. “I want to be her assistant so I can be a cook instead of a wife and mother.”
“Don’t you say that,” Matron Ruth warns, returning with a large jar of peanut butter. “You’ll be a wife and produce beautiful children. As he intends.”
As he intends. It’s something I’ve heard over and over since I’ve been here. As he intends or sometimes as he designed. Everyone laughed when I asked who he was. I wasn’t sure if they meant a god or Keeper, the leader. I’m pretty sure it means both now.
Matron Ruth sets a plate containing two thick peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the center of the table. She grabs two bananas as well, and hands us each a container of chocolate milk. “Now eat up and get your butts out of my kitchen so I can get back to work.”
“Thank you, Matron Ruth,” Jane and I say at the same time. She smiles at me over the sandwich as the matron exits the kitchen to the dining room.
Jane leans over the table to whisper. “See? You don’t have to believe what they tell you. I’m not going to be a wife. But just pretend so they don’t hurt you. Just go along until.” She shrugs.
“Until when?”
“Until we grow up and leave this place.”