The rest of the day passes quickly and before I know it I have finished the first day of school. On my way out of the building I reorient myself towards Marcus' work building and when I am about halfway there I come across a young factionless child who appears lost. I vaguely remember him from a donation drop off I did with my mother a few weeks or so ago, but I can't quite remember his name.
"Hey bud, are you looking for someone?"
He stares at me with wide eyes and doesn't speak.
"What's your name?"
Still no response.
"Well I am Beatrice and if there is anything you need help with I can probably be of assistance."
"Hi Beatrice. I am Timothy."
"Nice to meet you Timothy. Can I help you at all?"
"I can't find my sister and she was supposed to take me to get food but now she's not here and I won't be able to eat."
"Let me see what I can do." I open my lunch box and pull out what remains of my sandwich. "Do you like peanut butter sandwiches?"
He smiles at me and I offer it to him. "Thank you Beatrice."
"Of course Timothy. Now would you like help finding your sister? We can walk around for a little."
"No; I will be okay. My sister said to stay in place when I get lost."
"Okay then. I am going to leave now; have a great afternoon." I am nervous to leave him on his own as I estimate he is only about 7, but in reality I am only about 5 years older then him and it is not safe for me to be wandering around the factionless on my own. I pick up my lunchbox and continue on my way.
Upon arriving at the building I enter and the secretary directs me to the third floor. There, Tamara is waiting with a worried look.
"Hi Tamara." I smile at her to see if she will respond better than in class.
"Beatrice you are late." Her tone is once more intimidating and while I wish to shrink away from her authority, there is no reason for me to give in when it is something so trivial.
"Only by a few minutes." I refute.
"A few minutes is still late. I suggest this does not become a habit and as for today, you better come up with a sound excuse before we enter that room."
I get defensive from her accusations. "I was talking to a little factionless boy."
"That's not going to work." She shakes her head. "Let me handle the talking."
I follow her into the room and watch as her back straightens the second she is visible to . He sits at his desk with an assortment of papers in front of him.
Since Tamara stays quiet I figure I will start talking. "Good afternoon ." Tamara shoots me an angry glare, but I continue. "I am excited for the opportunity to work with you in order to complete my volunteer project."
doesn't even bother to look at me. Instead, he looks up from his work to make eye contact with Tamara. "I see you haven't taught her the rules yet—what a great mentor you are. I suggest you familiarize her with how this will work as you clean and prepare dinner." I don't entirely understand what he means, but the emotions in his voice surprise me. Tamara swiftly grabs my arm and pulls me out of the room; on the way out I swear I hear say something along the lines of 'this will not be forgotten tonight'.
We exit to the stairs and only as we enter the stairwell does she release my arm. I find myself missing the heat of her hand on my wrist when she does.
During the entirety of the way home not a word is spoken between us. I suppose this is normal for Abnegation, but to me it seems unnatural to walk in silence. Despite this, I take into account that whatever I say will likely be shot down so it is worth it to hold my tongue and save my questions for another time.
Tamara walks to the front door of her house and enters, leaving the door open for me to follow. I scan my surroundings and am not surprised to find it looks identical to my own house, a street away. Except here everything is perfect clean and centered, and there is nearly no sign of life.
"Today we will clean this floor, tomorrow both upstairs and this floor, on Thursday both floors again, on Friday we will clean in his office, and on Saturday we will clean both floors."
"So aside from Friday when we are there-"
"I wasn't done. Every day we will make dinner, and on Saturday we will make lunch."
I ignore her talking over me and rack my brain to figure out how the timingly of this works with volunteering in the office but I can't. "How does volunteering at the office fit into this?"
"It doesn't. Well sometimes on Saturdays and occasionally after cleaning his office on Fridays, but it really doesn't."
I still don't think I am understanding how this all works out. How can this count as volunteering if it is doing what she should already do just at a more frequent rate. "So these past two years you've been…volutneering…by doing housework and cooking for no one but yourself and your father. How does your father let you get away with your lying?"
She seems slightly offended by my comment, but I continue anyway.
"You're lucky you're not in candor or you would be factionless. I don't know if I can morally choose to continue doing this, and I'm a terrible liar so if I go down, you will too."
Before responding she takes a deep breath. "Well you don't have a choice."
"Yeah I know; they tell you it is selfish to change positions, but I figure there has to be a way for me to reveal this information and receive a new assignment. Or maybe if I don't take orders from you and talk to your dad instead he would actually use me and would appreciate actually having an assistant unlike his daughter who uses service time in order to do her chores."
I look her in the eyes and she stares back. So I continue.
"The real scandal is not about your father but you." Her eyes dart to the floor.
Despite my arguments I follow along with her chores while thinking of what to do in the future. We make start dinner together and while she gets the rations from the fridge she motions for me to set the table. I grab two plates and two napkins and am no more than one step towards the table when she finally speaks.
"Only put out one plate, napkin, and set of utensils." I furrow my eyebrows trying to reason why.
"So you lied again and he isn't going to eat here tonight? Are we seriously making dinner just for you? I can't believe this."
"Hurry up please, we are running out of time." I swear the next thing out of her mouth is going to be that she has an early bedtime. Before I can stop myself I laugh—she cannot be serious.
She stares at me almost in disbelief and doesn't say a word. Her face conveys that she is being serious and that this is clearly not something to joke about. I can't help but look down in instant shame and regret (although I don't exactly know why) while she remains standing in place in deep thought. Even though I hate to be the one to give in and apologize first, I find myself genuinely feeling bad. "Look Tamara, I'm sorry. I don't know your reasoning but I shouldn't question your authority as you're my mentor."
"Just do your work as I tell you and hopefully you won't discover why you shouldn't do differently."
The wording of her statement is weird and I can't comprehend what it could mean so I do my best to remember it word for word without understanding so I can evaluate it later.