Juno of Taris (2 page)

I helped clear away, bade my parents goodbye and ran off down the path. Should I go to the Bay of Clowns instead? Perhaps I could try to swim out from there? But no, I couldn’t swim that far. Not yet. And what a scandal it would be if I had to be rescued by one of the young men, or by Sarl in his fishing boat.

I climbed up to the base of the mountain and headed west along the rough path. It wasn’t used much because there were no houses along it, no gardens or orchards and only one tiny beach where the stream had cut through the cliffs. I ran, glorying in my solitude. I shouted out a nonsense song of my own making:

But I didn’t sing when I came to where the path narrowed and I had to dodge fingers of vines. The stream was below me, running dark between high rock walls. It wasn’t a place we liked to go.

I hurried on to where the path widened and sloped down to the sea. The stream here was busy and happy as if it was pleased to be out of the narrow dimness of the ravine. I splashed through it to the beach, and stopped at the edge of the sea to stare out to the walls. This was Calico Bay. I could hear swimmers on the other side of the promontory in the Bay of Clowns. Oh, no! I collapsed on the sand. How stupid of me! Those swimmers in the Bay of Clowns would see me if I tried to climb down the cliff at the end of the promontory.

The questions I would be asked resounded in my head. Why, Juno? What were you trying to do? It’s dangerous, that cliff is so steep, what madness possessed you?

And I could almost hear the gossip:
Have you
heard? Juno tried to climb down the cliff at the end of the
promontory. She got stuck. She fell.

I stood up. I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t subject my parents to such distress. But perhaps I could try from here to reach the skin of our world. This bay, a tiny sliver of sand where the stream had cut down through the cliffs, was closer to the walls than the Bay of Clowns was. I stripped off my tunic and waded into the water until it was deep enough for me to swim.

I kept my head down, turning it every second stroke to breathe. I swam until I was tired. Surely I must be nearly there! I trod water and looked up. I was level with the end of the promontory. The edge of our world shimmered beyond it, far away.

I hoped I’d have the strength to swim back. It’s harder to swim with disappointment weighing you down. And I was very tired. By the time my feet hit the bottom, I was shaking with weariness. I staggered from the water and flopped onto the sand.

The promontory. So close. So tantalising. So impossible.

I would have to wait until I was older and stronger, but one day, I promised myself, I would touch the skin of our world.

I rested for a few minutes then ran into the water to wash away the sand sticking to my legs and back. I’d forgotten to bring a towel.

I
met Hilto as I came down from the path through the mango orchard. He stood, his hands on his hips, barring my way. ‘Juno! What are you doing? Where have you been?’ His hateful eyes drilled through me.

I sidestepped him and kept walking. ‘Practising. I want to beat Marba in the swimming races.’

His snort carried back to me on the warm air – a drop of poison mixed with the scents of frangipani, jasmine and honeysuckle. ‘Marba is two years older than you. Use your energy for something more productive.’

I could tell by the tone of his voice that that was an order, not a suggestion. I would not obey. There was no rule against swimming, and I didn’t need telling that an eleven-year-old girl of my slight build wouldn’t be able to beat a solid boy like Marba. Why did it have to be Hilto who saw me? He was my most un-favourite person on the island.

I wondered when he would visit my parents. I swore one of the fine curses I’d picked up from Mother’s mother, my grandmother Grif: hell and damn-bloody-nation.

I raced in the door of our house. ‘Hilto will be along to moan about me any second.’

Mother closed her eyes and strove for calm. ‘What’s it about this time, my daughter?’

I told her. Dad handed me a towel. ‘All right, Juno. We’ll tell him you had our permission. You did nothing wrong. But …’ He didn’t need to say more. I knew full well that Hilto’s position as a Governance Companion gave him power.

‘I’m sorry. It’s just that …’ But why finish that sentence when they already knew what I felt? I scrubbed the towel over my bald head.

Mother took the towel and smiled at me. ‘It’s all right, Juno. We know you’re trying.’

Yes, I was trying so hard to be a good child of Taris. Would it get easier as I grew older? Perhaps it would, because for once I managed not to speak of how I hated my lack of hair.

We set off for our afternoon work of keeping the island functioning. Today all three of us were to work in the gardens. I fell behind my parents, thinking my thoughts and thanking the artificial stars on the roof of our island that nobody could read my mind. As always, my first thought was of my bald head. If I had the running of Taris, I would let us all grow our hair. My next thought was of Marba and the swimming race. I might be able to beat him, I just might. Marba was interested in experiments and behaviour and the way people acted. He wasn’t at all interested in exercise and only did what was required to keep fit enough to be a contributing member of Taris.

We climbed the path to the gardens, meeting others as we went. Marba left his family and sprinted to catch up with me. ‘I hear you’re going to beat me in the swimming races.’ He grinned at me but I knew him too well. He didn’t care a fat rat’s arse (another of Grif’s expressions) whether I beat him or not; what intrigued him was that I’d said I would.

I whispered, ‘Soaking wet. Bumped into Hilto. Had to think of something.’

Marba chuckled, satisfied that he’d got the truth out of me and that it was different from the official version. He wouldn’t tell. He was honourable, but more than that, we were in the same learning stratum and that bonded him, me and the twelve others closer than siblings – even when we fought like siblings.

Dad clapped his hands and the chatter faded into silence. ‘Right, friends. Continue with the same tasks as yesterday, except for Justa’s learning stratum.’ He flicked his eyes over us. ‘You lot come with me. There’s weed clearance needed under the mango trees.’

All fourteen of us dropped our heads and assumed martyred expressions. Weed clearance was the most hated of the gardening jobs and everyone thought Dad gave it to my learning stratum so regularly in order to avoid favouring me. But we knew better. In the orchards we had freedom from adult eyes. We could talk, gossip and ask the questions forbidden on Taris.

We filed past Dad, collecting garden tools as he called our names. Girls in order of age: Silvern, Shallym, Pel, Wenda, Brex, Dreeda and me, the youngest, last as usual. Dad handed me a machete and a smile.

The boys were next: Marba, Jidda, Paz, Fortun, Yin, Biddo and Rynd.

Dad pointed to the rows of trees. ‘Clear all of this orchard and put the weeds around the roots for mulch.’ He left us without bothering to glance back to make sure we’d started – he knew very well we wouldn’t until Marba had given us his thought for the day.

We gathered around him. ‘Do any of you have a question?’ he asked first as he always did. I admired that about him – he never assumed he was the only one with ideas.

‘I do,’ said Silvern with a lift of her shapely eyebrows. ‘Why does Juno imagine she’s capable of beating you in the swimming races?’

I snapped back at her before Marba could speak. ‘Well, what would you have said to Hilto if he’d caught you soaking wet on the mountain path during recreation hour?’

Silvern smirked. ‘I’d never do anything as dumb as going swimming by myself.’

I kicked at the ground. Stupid Silvern. Why did we have to be in the same learning stratum? It wasn’t fair – like so much else on Taris.

Marba spoke again. ‘All right. If nobody has a real question …’

I glanced at her. Huh, Silvern! Squashed!

‘… here is the one I want you to think about while we work.’ Marba let his eyes roam over the thirteen of us, although perhaps they lingered slightly longer on me. No, not me! I didn’t want to be the object of Marba’s wonderings. ‘I want you to think about why Hilto picks on Juno.’

Whoo! I felt winded. Silvern opened her mouth to argue, but Marba quelled her with a raised hand. ‘Just think about it. Admit it as a possibility and think about it. Now let’s get to work.’

I was glad to have a machete. I worked in a frenzy. Could it be true? Was there more to Hilto’s hate than simple bad temper? And if there was, then the terrifying question was: Why? And why me?

Fright still fuelled me by the time we finished.

I joined the others under the shade of a tree. We lay flat on our backs, resting and keeping our thoughts to ourselves. After we’d rested for a minute, Marba clapped his hands. ‘All right, let’s begin,’ he said, pointing at Silvern to start the discussion.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, if it was anyone other than Juno, I’d say there might be a reason. But really Marba – she simply doesn’t behave in accordance with the laws of Taris.’ She settled back against the tree trunk with a smirk on her saintly face. But she hadn’t finished. ‘Let’s be honest – people are always having to withdraw from her. And even that doesn’t teach her.’

Marba made no comment, although he could have reminded her that people had withdrawn from her last year when she’d worn a shell dangling from her ear. ‘Paz?’

Paz frowned. ‘Maybe it’s because she always yells blue murder on shaving day.’

One by one, Marba asked each of my learning stratum and one by one they let me know what they thought of me.

I was wayward, according to Shallym, because I wanted to make up my own dances. ‘The old dances serve us very well,’ she added.

Fortun shrugged. ‘He still hasn’t forgiven her for wearing that wreath of flowers on her head.’

Yin said, ‘She’s always trying to change things. Remember the tunic?’

The others nodded and colour flooded my face. All I’d done was stitch a pattern around the neck of my tunic and colour it yellow using the stamens of lilies. The fuss!

Pel frowned. ‘Maybe it’s because she asked that question in the meeting – the one we all want to know the answer to.’

A whole year ago, I’d asked: Why may we not grow our hair?

Pel glanced at me. ‘I thought it was a fair question, but the elders and the Governance Companions acted like you’d asked why we couldn’t drill a hole through the walls of the island.’ The five Governance Companions and most of the elders had turned their backs on me after the meeting, withdrawing from me.

‘She asks questions nobody knows the answers to,’ Brex said, ‘like why we don’t read and write any more.’ I’d asked that one last year after we’d seen a documentary about New York that showed the city aglow with neon signs.

Biddo shook his head. ‘It’s not just that. Juno’s different and different isn’t good. It divides us. He doesn’t like her because she’s divisive.’

Nobody had anything good to say of me. I wilted, my inner self crushed. When it was my turn to speak, I shook my head and looked at the ground. But I straightened quickly when Marba spoke again.

‘I don’t think any of you are right.’ He waved a hand. ‘Oh, I grant you that Juno doesn’t fit the mould of the perfect Taris child. But she’s not the only one.’ To my astonishment, he grinned at Silvern who tossed her head and dared him to speak. But Marba was never interested in squabbling. ‘This is what I want us to do. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now.’

Oh goodness, what now? Whatever it was, it was bound to mean more trouble for me.

Silvern sniggered. ‘Well, I for one am not going to start behaving like Juno does, so don’t even think about it.’

Marba grinned at her. ‘Wait till you’ve got something to yell about before you start yelling.’ He grew serious. ‘Listen. I’ve been trying to see if I can communicate without words.’ His eyes scanned us and took in the varying amounts of astonishment on our faces. ‘I’ve been trying to tune in to people’s thoughts, but so far it hasn’t worked.’

‘Thank goodness for that!’ said Brex.

Yeah.

Marba ignored her. ‘But I want us to experiment. If all of us concentrate at the same time – on Hilto for example – with the same question in our minds, then somebody might be able to pick something up.’

Paz shook his head.‘That’ll cause gossip.
Did you
hear? Justa’s learning stratum all stared at Hilto for the
entire meeting. He’s furious.
’

Marba said, ‘Not if we do it stealthily. I suggest we all concentrate on him and on the question of why he’s so hard on Juno, and we do it during the saying of the Pledge. We don’t need to look directly at him. Just keep an image of him in your minds. Okay?’

‘I’d rather keep an image of a dead fish in my mind,’ Shallym grumbled, ‘but all right. I’ll be part of the experiment.’

None of us thought it would work. All of us agreed to try. It was easier that way with Marba and his ideas. Give in, do it and get it over with.

It was time to leave the gardens and go home to eat. We always ate our evening meal before we attended the weekly meeting. My heart hurt. None of my learning stratum valued me, cared about me or liked me. I was a rogue child, a changeling who should not have had the privilege of being born on Taris.

I waited while Dad finished handing out the vegetables people requested for their meals and we walked home together. He didn’t speak to me.