Pulling up from the dark of a dreamless sleep I rolled over to face my largely empty room. The warm afternoon sun was filtering in through my window, illuminating my dresser and the stack of books beside it. I hated this feeling. Bogged down with too much sleep, the pressure behind my eyes as though I'd held my fists to them all night, but it couldn't be helped. I know that most of the kids, especially those still in the cold dank orphan's home despised us for being adopted by his honor the mayor Isaak Davidson. Truth was however, that this was our lives, the hours stretching on for what seemed like an eternity, the bolts on our doors and bars on our windows preventing not only our escape but any unwanted contact between his honor and the eight children he had adopted for show. So, for us, you really only had a few options for passing the time, sleeping, reading, or counting the lines in the floorboards.
I should be getting up, I think. But the bed is nice and warm, and I haven't been allowed to refresh my stock of reading material in days, and when reading is your life you tend to burn through books like wildfire. Turning onto my back and stretching my feet out to explore the hidden pocket of cool air near the foot of the bed, I breathed in the smell of the meal being prepared in the kitchen. Beef sandwiches, with au jus, I guessed, it was practically a Tuesday staple, flame roasted potatoes with peppers and onion. I let the breath escape me before inhaling deeply again, and, and, hot peach cobbler. My stomach rolled dangerously with hunger. If we were lucky we could have some for lunch, and if not we had to wait until dinner time, the only meal we ate downstairs, though confined to the kitchen, unless there was a party.
That, I thought then, was reason enough for the other children, adults even to hate us. Sure we might not have our freedom, might be used as accessories, but at least we always had the promise of one meal a day. Few in any District could say that anymore. I had just begun to fall back into the poisonous trap that is slumber when the first whispers could be heard making their way across the papered plaster of my wall. You see, we, the children have been exceedingly clever. Meant to be seen and not heard the three of us who were first adopted came up with a way to communicate between rooms. With a quick succession of tapping we could convey a wealth of information. Anton had come up with the idea after reading an old tome on "morse code." The name seemed rather dry, and archaic, and as I was the one to first put it into action I named our little language, the whispers. It was kind of funny given that our first attempt at communication had actually been whispering, and had failed drastically, as our voices didn't carry too well.
Tap, tap, tappy-tap, tap, tap, went the finger on the other side of my wall. It was Alice, but she wasn't talking to me. Rather, her message was being picked up by Flora with a water glass pressed to her wall to amplify the sound. She was a dreamy eyed girl who was relatively new to the family. Usually his honor, none of us called him father unless we were forced to for the public, only adopted children at a very young age, easier to manage and train I suppose, but everyone liked to joke that he'd chosen her for her looks. It brought Flora to tears once, so I haven't mentioned it again.
Alice was asking Flora what she thought of Ms. Watt, the strict widower, and governess who came twice a week for three hours to teach us things like reading, writing, and arithmetic. The woman was, frankly put, a bitch who wielded a ruler like a peacekeeper wielded a baton. It didn't matter to her where she struck you either, just so long as you didn't dare to duck.
"Pleasant." Flora whispered with her gentle knocking. Alice responded agasp. "Un, un, sorry she's unpleasant." Flora corrected, proving that she was still learning the ropes. Alice responded better this time. I was getting ready to drown out their conversation with a pillow over my head when Flora piped up again. "Alice, can I ask a thing?" she said poorly.
"Anything." Alice tapped back.
There was a long pause and curiosity got the better of me. Whatever it was it was going to be good, a secret maybe and I edged as close to the wall as possible, pressing my ear against it as I did.
"I started," came the first bout of knocking. Started, started what? I wondered as another pause stretched on.
Clearly Alice didn't know what she was talking about either because she quickly tapped, "And?"
" Will his honor punish me because blood is on sheets?" Flora asked.
Suddenly I knew exactly what they were talking about and reeled from the wall in disgust. My fist and those of Anton and Spark quickly drowned out any reply Alice could have made with an angry barrage of, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Proving that I hadn't been the only one eavesdropping on their conversation. Honestly, sometimes girls were the worst.
We were all, needless to say startled what his honor's voice boomed from downstairs. "Enough with the damn racket!"
"I thought he was out today." Alice tapped soft enough that the words were for my ears alone.
"So did I." I shot back as footfalls could be heard all around as others scurried back to their beds.
After a while I suppose we all slipped back into sleep because the whispers stopped.
The sharp creak of my door as it was thrust open on rusted hinges startled me out of my doze and I looked wide eyed at his honor. I was confused in my daze as to what he could want, especially so soon after yelling at us that I didn't see the cold threat in his gaze. "Downstairs boy, now." he commanded.
Whatever, naive, fleeting glimmer of hope that he had actually come to see me, sought me out, out of some type of affection died, and I remembered that this man loved no one. "Yes sir." I replied swinging myself out of bed and hurrying to catch up. The hallway upstairs always seemed drafty, and as I emerged from my room I regretted immediately the fact that my feet were bare.
Following, we walked past the library, foyer, and skirted by the kitchen before entering his honor's study. That is when I remembered that I was meant to begin lessons in becoming mayor. I'd had such lessons with him on and off for the past year now, but lately it seemed like less and less of the fundamentals, and more and more ethics classes from one of the most corrupt human beings that have ever lived. I abhorred them.
Pleasantly however, I was surprised to find that lavish meal whose tempting scents had wafted though my bedroom to be laid out on two plates between us. His honor, whose face was a perpetual, angry beet red sat in his fine leather chair, motioning for me to do the same in the small wooden stool opposite him and his desk.
I sat as instructed, my mouth watering, and stomach pining with anticipation. I inhaled deeply and could smell the subtle bite of garlic that had illuded me before. His honor motioned for me to begin, and greedily I picked up the sandwich. The bread was well burdened and only the light toasting it had received kept it from becoming a soggy mess as the meat's juices soaked in.
Heaven was merely inches from my lips when something occurred to me. "Aren't the others eating?" I asked voicing my concern.
His honor clucked his tongue in disappointed as he watched me, a hand passing over his sweaty and balding scalp. "But this is today's lesson." he intoned. I started at him blankly as I failed to comprehend, the sandwich still hanging in space. "There are the haves, and then there are the haves nots." he went on. "You and I we are the haves. We want something, we take it, we make it our own and crush any who oppose us. Do you understand?" he asked. Somberly I nodded. "Good, now everyone out there," he went on pointing to the window they're the have nots, your siblings for this demonstration are the have nots."
"Now," he said slimily as he leaned across his cluttered desk, dislodging a stack of papers. "Eat it, and savor the privilege of status." he instructed.
I hesitated. I was so hungry, and it was there, warm in my hands, but the others were hungry too, and I was the eldest. "Actually, I'm not that hungry." I lied placing the food back down.
There was a sound of wheels clattering over the floorboards, before the boom of that grand leather chair colliding with the wall as his honor stood with a fuming anger. He rarely beat us, but when he did, the beatings left lasting damage, and broken bones. Hurriedly I picked up the sandwich again and took a hardy bite, trying not to make eye contact with the man as he sat down once more.
I had been wrong about the way this sandwich would taste, it wasn't heaven, it tasted of betrayal and cowardice. Swallowing hard I wondered how I could make it up to the others.
"Remember, next week is the Reaping, I want you all presentable." his honor called up to us later that night and Hana, the old maid locked us in for the evening.
Laying sulkily with a belly full of ill gotten gains I was startled by the gentle whisper of Alice's fingers. "Do you remember the promise?" she asked quietly.
"Of course I do." I tapped back angrily, too annoyed with myself to deal with much else.
"So if one of us gets Reaped, we're all voting for the mayor." she said as if needing either confirmation or reassurance.
I smiled then in the dark. "It will be the only election that man was ever worth winning!" Together we laughed, real, joyous laughter, and let the wallpaper fall silent.