Fields of Gold
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Matched
Copyright: Ally Condie
"Will you stay with me? Will you be my love
among the fields of barley?
We'll forget the sun in his jealous sky
as we walk in fields of gold."
- Sting, "Fields of Gold"
Abran Reyes' first visit to the Farmlands was not what he had expected. Intellectually, of course, he knew that barley fields were large areas, but atually walking through one – the tasseled grains moving in golden waves on either side of the path, the enormous open sky unbroken by buildings or air train tracks, the low buzz of insects, the rich sweet scent of the earth and the plants – was rather breathtaking. Not to mention the sight of Molly O'Neill right beside him, with her sun-kissed face and her smiling blue eyes. And not an Official or parent in sight.
The farm complex was behind them, still clearly visible if they cared to look, but Abran liked the feeling of being completely alone together even if it did make him nervous. They were Matched, after all; they had a right. Now if only he could think of something interesting to say …
"Does it bother you?" Molly asked suddenly.
"Sorry … does what bother me?"
She scuffed a foot along the dirt road, avoiding his eyes; for the first time, it occurred to him that this lovely, poised young lady might actually be as nervous as he was.
"This place," she said, waving her hand. "I mean … there's not much to do out here, is there? No picture halls or game centers … and the village is miles away. I don't want you to get bored on this visit."
Abran let out an awkward little laugh, which Molly seemed to take as confirmation. She sighed.
"Bored? N-No!" he spluttered, hurrying to reassure her. "It's … beautiful."
"Really?" She turned to look him directly in the eyes, smiling brilliantly.
"Absolutely. It's so quiet, and clean, and …" He flung out his arms to indicate all the open space. "You saw what it was like back in the City," referring to their first formal meeting. "There's always a racket – ports humming, nutrition vehicles chugging around, air trains, people … you wouldn't believe how loud it gets in my Second School during a break."
"You wouldn't believe the noise a tractor makes," Molly pointed out. "Or a flock of geese. Seriously, better than watchdogs."
"Really?"
"Oh yes. Mrs. Holm lets them chase the local children out of her garden. We all lived in terror of the giant white gander." She laughed ruefully, remembering some childhood misbehavior of her own. "So you see, it's always been quite adventurous enough for me. I wasn't sure a city boy would agree, though."
"And I wasn't sure a country girl would commit the crime of trespassing on private property," said Abran, venturing to tease her and being rewarded by another bright look from her blue eyes.
Listening to her tell him about her childhood, and watching the gestures of her hands and the sun playing in her hair, he wondered if there wasn't something to the old superstition of "luck" after all.
She was so absorbed in her story that she overlooked a stone in her path, tripped, and might have fallen if Abran had not caught her. It was their first time touching, besides the handshake at their introduction, and he found it surprisingly difficult to let go.
"I did that on purpose," she murmured, half playful, half serious. Her eyes darkened as she looked into his.
"Did you? Well … I guess it worked."
He leaned in to kiss her, and like the scent of the grain and the buzzing of the bees around them, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
"If I could have chosen any girl to Match with," he whispered, his forehead touching hers. "It would be you. You're amazing, Molly O'Neil, you know that?"
"You too … but hey, according to the Courtship Guidelines, you know you're at least two weeks early for kissing? Not that I'm complaining."
"Never mind the Courtship Guidelines," he said, unconsciously imitating his father's irritable tone as he took Molly's hand and linked his fingers with hers. She frowned at him, but said nothing.
"Let's make this our time, okay?" he said softly. "Just you, and me, and this field of gorgeous golden … what is it again?"
"It's barley and you know it, city slicker."
"Right."
"Right." She tugged on his hand and they resumed their walk along the path. "Our time. Sounds good"
No ports, no rules, no Officials … if only for the moment. And the knowledge that yes, given the choice, they would choose each other.
It would have to be enough.