27
AMITY
It feelsdifferent walking in Spenard on Saturday morning. The sun is high and bright. This is the first time the air in Anchorage has a warm, heavy quality I recognize from Baltimore.
My hair is a little damp and it feels good, cool on my head with the warm heat.
There are old strip malls on either side of the wide street I walk on. People are living in most of the buildings. Their faces are grim.
I’m reminded of history, of photos of people on the streets of Baltimore. Everyone in Maryland these days has a cared for, polished look. These folks are hungry, and I shiver as I pass them.
I still have Vale’s hat. I’m wearing it again today. It smells faintly of pine and chlorine. I pull it low over my eyes. Everyone looks away from me when I glance around, but I notice a couple of kids playing with a broken shovel infront of a storefront that says Jewelers but clearly doesn’t sell jewelry anymore.
They stare at me like I’m something they haven’t seen before, and I slowly realize that most of the folks standing around are men, and the few women I see are shrinking back. The phrase “barefoot and pregnant” pops into my head, something else I remember from history. I give a little girl a wink and she cowers back.
When I get back to the trailer I go straight into my room. I sit on my bed, thinking. Tonight I’ll go to the solstice party with Vale and pretend to be his girlfriend. My face twists. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the women lurking in the shadows. Is that what he’ll expect from me?
I think back to the depo train. Everything felt totally new, there was so much I had never seen before. I realize how sheltered I was growing up in Baltimore and I wonder why we didn’t travel more as a family, go to other places.
Surely it wasn’t dangerous for us to visit New England, or the Midwest? Both territories signed the Universal Accord and purged their weapons.
I have a lot of questions. I wish I could travel around and talk to more people, find things out, understand what’s going on in the world.
My phone buzzes, bringing me back to the gray walls around me. I hear a cupboard slam in the other room, Ren must be here. I instinctively tense up; I don’t want Ren to know about my communications with my “mom.”
I wish I knew whether it was my mom on the other side. The words don’t sound like her, but that might be on purpose.
The phone buzzes again and I flop back on the bed.
Hi honey how’s it going?
Again with the honey stuff.
Good. I’m meeting up with a friend later today.
Who’s that?
Vale Adamson. We’re going to a party together for the solstice.
The phone buzzes in my hand and it says secure video call. This hasn’t happened before. I glance toward the door where I still hear Ren moving around in the common area.
I swipe the screen and a picture appears—my mother and another woman stare out at me from the phone. I feel a pang when I realize my mom was there on the other side of the phone all along. The other part of the screen shows me—there must be a camera facing me from the phone.
I look different, my cheeks are red from the June sun. My hair is damp and short, hanging around my face and brushing my shoulders.
“What’s happening, Amity?” my mom asks, her voice steady, not warm.
“I’m going to a party with Vale.”
My mom nods eagerly. “Isaiah’s son. The Society is aware of them.”
“Mom, I saw Zeph, he came here, but he doesn’t want to leave,” I tell her. There’s guilt dropping into my stomachat the thought. I worry that there’s more I should have done for Zeph.
“Don’t worry about Zeph. I’m sure he’s fine,” the other woman says.
My mom cuts in. “What else, Amity? What is happening at the party?”
“We’re supposed to steal something,” I tell them. I wonder how private this call is. “I’m not sure if I should…”