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You spend First Day with the Builders

chosen by amycahill57, superstormkatie, lortlover25879, LiadanAlice and May a Chance. You're awesome, gals and guys!

IV

NAILS AND NICKNAMES

Newt assured you got something, that you without hesitation knew was called a sandwich, from this Frypan guy before he shoved you off to where you are now, sitting in the shade of a lone tree on the outskirts of the small forest. You eat at the delicious mix of bread, butter, ham and cheese, slowly so that you can stay there in the grass longer. There's a hammer in your lap, nails on the ground beside you and a broken fence on your right. Hunched over it, trying to remove the pieces of a broken plank from the poles in the ground, are two boys. You recognize Gally from earlier, with his broad stature and short-cropped blond hair. He's clean-shaven and in this heat he is soaked in sweat. To you, he looks awfully grown-up for someone who is... you surprise yourself. For a moment you had thought you knew how old Gally was. You don't even know your own age. The thought sends a freaky shiver down your spine.

"How old are you?"

The other boy, named Stephen and smaller than Gally although just slightly, looks up at you. "They say I look thirteen."

He smiles, and you smile as well. Stephen has a mess of brown-reddish hair and a sunkissed complexion shining with sweat just like Gally. To you, and you have no idea why you think so, he looks at least seventeen. Then you realize the darkness of Stephen's comment — they don't know either. Just like you, they have no idea how old they are, when their birthday is. You take a look at Gally, whose biceps flex as he pulls a last piece of wood, nail and all, from one of the poles. You decide that Gally's at least eighteen.

"How old do I look?"

Stephen takes a break, wipes the back of his hand across his forehead and squints at you. For a good long while, he studies your every inch. "Sixteen, maybe?"

You find yourself staring toward the West wall of the Glade, at the entrance and the unknown that lies beyond. You remember Newt's words, telling you to never go out there, and you feel strongly that it's a rule you'll have no problem sticking to. Your thoughts then wander back to your age, and you let your body talk to you. It feels weird, like you're in the body of another person, looking through their eyes at hands and legs and feet that aren't yours. You're still scared, still feeling small and useless among all these people who seem to know enough to get by.

"I'll get by too," you tell yourself. Then, out loud, you ask, "What color is my hair?"

Gally sighs. "Look, Greenie. Here we work, and I ain't letting you off the hook because you're new, 'right?"

He tosses a piece of wood toward you and you put your arms up protectively. Gally's lips twitch into the tiniest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but feel a bit of acceptance from the Keeper of the Builders. Maybe, just maybe, you can be friends.

The last piece of sandwich goes down in a single bite. You pick up the hammer and a handful of nails from the ground and walk over to the two builders. They lift a plank up and level it with the old holes in the fence posts. Gally nods your way, so you pick a nail and position it onto the wood. Then you carefully start hammering it further and further into the plank.

"Put some back into it, Greenie," Gally says. "We ain't got all day."

You hammer a little harder, but you're not the strongest of boys. "I hate that name," you say suddenly. It was more of a thought than a statement. "Greenie."

Stephen frowns. "That's what we call everyone until they remember their names."

A new chill sets in and rocks you to the core. That's a place in your mind you haven't visited since the Box. It feels empty, like a room you know, but deprived of all furniture and decoration. Deprived of meaning. You want to be somebody, not just the new guy.

"How long until I get it back?"

"Don' know," Stephen says. "Took me only a few hours."

Your heart drops. "I've been here three days."

"It'll come back. That, or we'll just give you one." Stephen thinks about it as you hammer away. "Oliver."

You like Stephen, you really do, but the name sounds silly to you. Oliver. You try to paint and image of yourself and connect it with the name. It feels wrong.

"No, try something else."

This time, Gally speaks up. "How 'bout Shuckface-the-worthless-builder?"

You've bent the nail, half-way into the plank. They are rusty things, probably reused from earlier builds. Before you can react, Gally shoves you to the side, puts his end of the plank in your hands and yanks the nail out with the hammer. Then he puts another hail in the hole, aims with the hammer head and bashes the nail pretty much all the way in with one single blow.

"That's how you do it, shank," he says, inspecting his work proudly. "Now you try."

You do, and it's not so bad. You're not nearly as strong and confident as Gally, but you impress. And you do it again, and again. When all but one of the broken planks in the fence are done, Stephen calls for a break.

"Can't do no more, man," he sighs, wiping yet more sweat from his forehead. "Is it me or is it hotter than usual today?"

It's pretty darn hot, you agree. Your own shirt is soaked in sweat, drops of it running down your spine and neck. Stephen falls down in the grass, you sit down next to him and Gally leans onto one of the poles and watches the distance with a frown on his face.

"You did good today, Greenie," he says finally. He looks down at you, then crosses his arms. "If no one else want ya, I might just make a builder out of ya."

You're just about to say 'Thank you' when a bell rings far away. It reminds you of the sounds you heard when first arriving here, but it's nowhere near as frightening. The noise steals Gally's and Stephen's attention, and smiles cross both of their faces.

Stephen turns to you and stands up. "Dinner."

As if on cue, your stomach starts growling like a wild animal. The sandwich didn't do much, and you realize you must've been eating next to nothing while you were unconscious. You think about what kind of food these boys eat, but you don't care much. Food is food, and Gally and Stephen look excited enough. Gally gathers the tools into a neat pile, then walks off. Stephen waits for you to stand up. When you do, something hits you.

A thought. It screams in your head, a loud and clear call. It's a word... no, it's a name... and it's repeated over and over again.

You remember your name.

IS YOUR NAME

Vince
named after Vincent Van Gogh

OR

Kenny
named after John F. Kennedy

OR

Chris
named after Christopher Columbus