The Choosing (12 page)

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Authors: Rachelle Dekker

Tags: #FICTION / Christian / Futuristic, #FICTION / Dystopian

BOOK: The Choosing
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“I’m honored.”

Isaac tilted his head slightly to the side and a dark curiosity filled his eyes. “Are you?”

Carrington thought carefully before she spoke. “Of course. I understand the rarity of such an opportunity and feel privileged to take part.”

“It
is
unusual, which makes it potentially uncomfortable, but you are handling it quite well.”

He smiled and Carrington felt her cheeks flush. Remembering her manners, she dropped her head in respect. “I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. As a man of God, I am trying to remember that everything happens for a reason.”

He paused and Carrington raised her head to see that he was looking at her intently. The hair on her arms rose and she fought to silence her pounding heart.

“Let me ask you something,” Isaac said. “Why do you think it is that you were not chosen?”

Carrington felt the pain of rejection, fresh as daybreak, collect in her chest. “I wish I knew how to answer this better. I believe I did all that was asked of me, yet I still find myself here. My father says we all have our place, so maybe this is just mine.” She dropped her eyes away from Isaac’s face and breathed through her mounting anxiety.

“Your father sounds like a wise man. I must admit, though, I am not surprised that you are here.”

Carrington braced herself for a verbal lashing like the one she had received from Authority Lane.

“Do you believe in God?”

She turned her face back toward him and now she was the one to look at him with curiosity. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer.

“Of course. God is the true instructor of the law. My family never missed a religious ceremony.”

“You sound very sure of what you believe.”

“It would be foolish not to believe the truth.” Even as Carrington said the words her mind buzzed with the reality that she was already questioning the truth. Yet as she’d just said, to do so was foolish. She pushed any idea of another way out of her mind and focused on what she knew.

“Most people believe in God without the slightest idea of who God is. Do you feel you understand who God is?”

Carrington hesitated only for a moment. “I believe I know as much about God as I am permitted.”

Isaac smiled, and again Carrington was struck by how her pulse was racing. “I do believe in God, and I believe in His holy path. Sometimes a door closes so that we can feel the breeze from an open window. Do you understand?”

Carrington nodded, a tiny thrill itching inside her gut. He was fond of her; that much was clear.

“It appears I may be your window, Carrington. And you may be mine.”

14

After her meeting with Isaac Knight, Carrington was escorted back to her room and told to wait for further instructions. The late-afternoon sun had still not completely left the sky and she found herself alone in the loft. Isaac had told her he’d enjoyed their meeting but would need time for prayerful contemplation before making his decision.

Carrington found herself feeling hopeful and allowed the emotion to begin to settle over her. She actually had a second chance at being chosen, and she found she desperately wanted this. Being joined to someone like Isaac never would have been a possibility before, but now, not only could she be chosen; she could be royalty. Being the wife of an Authority member was a dream every little girl had but knew would never come true. Hers actually could. A soft giggle tumbled from her mouth and she quickly bit her lip to contain it. It was too early to get excited, but it was a challenge to keep the butterflies still.

She sat on her bed as her mind wandered through musings on her future. She wondered what Isaac would be like once she got to know him. Would he continue to make her heart dance, or would that fade? Would he love her, care
for her as she had seen her own father do for her mother? Could he be happy with her, and would she be happy with him?

His face floated through her mind. His eyes held small hints of light that she found sharp and alluring. Then another set of eyes intruded
 
—a warmer set, a set she could imagine getting lost in, dark brown without small hints of light but rather beaming spots of sun. The rest of his face took shape
 
—tan skin, hair to his shoulders.

She shook her head to dislodge Remko’s image and refocused on Isaac. Her mind traced the outlines of his face and was happy with the fact that he was indeed handsome. Even though his face was thin, he had a strong jawline, a nice symmetrical nose pointing to small lips that sat beneath. She had never been kissed before and she wondered how his lips would feel on hers.

Isaac’s face vanished and Remko’s reappeared. His lips were full and looked soft in her memory. Her own lips quivered at the thought of touching them.

Carrington felt her pulse quicken and she stood from her bed. Her mind was starting to get out of control. She paced and took deep breaths to center herself again.

To be fantasizing about another man when she very well could be marrying Isaac was shameful. She had encountered attractive men before
 
—not many, as the Authority kept young boys and girls separated for the most part, but enough that she shouldn’t be so affected by him. Worse still was that even if Isaac didn’t choose her, Remko would never be a
possibility. CityWatch guards were bound by law to remain single and live apart.

A knock pulled her from the internal scolding and she quickly moved to the door. When she opened it, a guard handed her a thick white envelope and left her standing alone in the doorway.

Carrington pulled herself back into the loft and shut the door. Her hand started to tremble because she knew that the news held within this package would change her life. Either she would leave this place or be twice rejected and unable ever to recover.

Slowly she opened the envelope and pulled out the card. Her heart began to thunder inside her chest as her eyes drank in every word. She wanted to smile but her face was paralyzed by the realization that her whole life really was going to change.

Carrington sat inside a large conference room on the first floor of the Lint Stacks. She was back in her Lint uniform but hadn’t traveled with the others to their trades that morning. Instead she’d been escorted here to meet her mother and father. News of her unusual Choosing had spread rapidly the night before, and the girl who usually kept Carrington up with her snoring had been so consumed by jealousy that she’d slept in the other bedroom.

At dinner, the looks from the girls had been mixed. Anger, envy, even hatred, with a few happy looks scattered
throughout. Larkin had appeared the most excited, but even as she asked Carrington all about her encounter with Isaac, a hint of sadness played through her words. Mostly because it meant in a few weeks they would be living in separate worlds. Carrington would move back home with her family until the wedding, and after that, she and Larkin would be prohibited from interaction. Nothing would be the same. It was hard to imagine that only days earlier the two of them had been sneaking out of the Stacks, risking their safety, laughing, sharing in what Carrington had believed would be the rest of her life. That night, with Larkin by her side, she had felt the horrible fog of misery lift from view for just a moment.

Now everything was changing again. Carrington had awakened this morning expecting to be filled with joy. She hadn’t anticipated the sting of regret she’d encountered as well.

The doors at the end of the room flew open and her mother descended on the space, her father calmly following.

Vena was dressed in something nicer than she might have worn any other day, her face lit, her eyes warm, her smile dancing. She was almost unrecognizable. She was pleased with the situation, as any mother would be, and the memory of the livid woman from the city center vanished from Carrington’s mind. She smiled in return and couldn’t deny how nice it was to see her mother’s face. The woman wrapped Carrington in a loving embrace and Carrington could detect soft sniffles.

“Mother, don’t cry,” Carrington said, pulling away.

“Tears of joy, my dearest daughter. Tears of joy!” Her mother hugged her tightly again and Carrington could feel herself welling up with emotion. Her mother had been hard on her
 
—most likely always would be
 
—but that didn’t discount the warmth of her mother’s arms. It made Carrington feel like a tiny girl and she wished it wouldn’t end.

When her mother did pull away, Carrington felt so soothed she wondered if she actually might be able to forget the past few weeks. Her mother gently smoothed a loose strand of Carrington’s hair and moved toward the table.

Her father edged in to scoop up Carrington and her eyes filled with tears once again
 
—the tinge of regret gone, the idea of forever missing all that she loved about this life eliminated. The existence she had been relegated to meant separation from the arms that now held her softly; how she had managed thus far without them was a mystery.

“Father,” she said.

“It is wonderful to see you looking so well,” he said. He pulled away and moved to join her mother.

“Sit, sit. Tell me everything about yesterday’s meeting,” her mother said.

Carrington followed her father’s lead and took a chair beside her parents. “There isn’t that much to tell. I only spoke with Authority Knight for a couple of minutes.”

“Authority Knight. Can you believe such luck would
shine on you? Soon my daughter
 
—my only daughter
 
—will be in the Authority family circle. Your sons will help run this city, help shape the future. Can you believe it? I knew God would not ignore my prayers.”

Carrington chuckled softly and glanced at her father. He gave her a small wink and she smiled. To see her mother so excited was unnerving. “Yes, I know. I think I’m still in shock.”

“As you should be. This honor you have received is unheard of. The women in the neighborhood gave me such grief when you were not chosen the first time
 
—such wicked glances and disapproving shrugs. You should see their faces now. None of their daughters will ever rise to such a status.”

Carrington dropped her chin and let her eyes fall to the floor. “I’m sorry you had to suffer through that.”

“You know your original mistake was very hard on me. It was a devastating time. I cried, heartbroken that you had destroyed our dreams. I had your father remove all photos of you from the house because I couldn’t look at them without collapsing into fits of tears.”

She might as well have been dragging a dagger across her daughter’s heart. Carrington felt sorrow and guilt, but the constant companion to this shame was anger and now it began to swell. It wasn’t as if she had purposely set out not to be picked.

“Now, Vena,” her father said. “No need to bring up the past. This is a time for celebration.”

“Yes, of course. Not to worry now, my dear. All is forgiven,” her mother said.

Carrington had a single moment where she wanted to tell her mother that there had been nothing to forgive, but she remembered that not being chosen was a cruel fate of her own making and she chased the words away. Instead she smiled and thanked her mother for being so gracious.

“So, tell me. When will you see Authority Knight next?”

“He has requested my presence tonight at his home for dinner,” Carrington said.

“Wonderful! Have you decided what you will be wearing? Do you even have anything here? Goodness
 
—they should have said something to me and I would have brought you something from home.”

“I have a dress. . . .”

“Enough about that; what will you say? Have you thought through how you would like to present yourself? It can’t be the same as you did during your Choosing Ceremony
 
—heaven knows that would be a mistake.”

Her mother continued at a rapid pace, sharing each idea as it popped into her head and making Carrington dizzy from the weight of it all. She glanced at her father for help. He just pleaded with her through his eyes to be patient. Carrington had always been amazed at the way her father took care of his wife. Would Isaac treat her in this loving way? Although tonight would be important, Isaac had already chosen her, so she wondered when she would get to be comfortable with herself.

“But who are you, Carrington?”

The words fluttered in her ears like air and Carrington turned her head around to find nothing. His voice had been as clear as if he’d been standing inside this very room.

“What is it, dear?” her mother asked.

The room was empty except for the three of them and Carrington shook off the haunting feeling. “Nothing. I thought I heard something.”

“You should be paying attention. Tonight is absolutely crucial. Don’t you know that?”

“Of course. I’m sorry; I am paying attention.”

“It doesn’t appear that way. Letting your imagination get dragged away by . . . what? A creak in the corner? We can’t afford any more mistakes from you. Your attitude needs to change quickly!”

“Vena . . . ,” Carrington’s father cautioned.

“She needs to know how important this is,” her mother said, glancing toward her husband.

“There will be no more mistakes. I have already been chosen,” Carrington said.

“You think you’ve done all you need to, then? You think someone with as much power and status as Authority Knight will simply let you act like a child and say, ‘Well, what am I to do now? I have already chosen her’?” Her mother’s eyes narrowed and Carrington could feel the woman’s desperation as she inched toward her.

“Vena, you have taught our daughter well; don’t worry,” her father said.

“Don’t kid yourself. If Authority Knight disapproves of her in any way, he will kick her to the curb and choose another.” She turned her gaze back to Carrington. “Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Carrington said.

“Then know that you may have impressed him once, but until your vows are complete you will need to continue to impress him. There can be no mistakes.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Enough,” her father said. He gave Vena a stern but loving look and she eased back into her seat. The vision of her mother in the city center, in the Exiting Room, in their home on nights when Carrington wasn’t living up to the picture of perfection
 
—all of those images rushed back, hitting Carrington with their sharp edges, stabbing, slicing, embedding themselves in her brain, wedging into the fragmented picture she already had of herself.

Without warning her body and soul longed to be back in the shelter, where Aaron’s words had tapped something that made her feel loved. Carrington was taken aback by this mental detour and focused on keeping her face from registering the reaction. It was one moment, a single incident that had left her with more questions than answers, yet in a torrent of slander from her mother, she ached to hear his words again.

“Let’s pray, for your sake and the sake of our family, that there won’t be any more errors,” her mother said.

Carrington cut off the questionable longing and nodded. Her mother was right; she had been chosen, but her work was far from over. It was time to focus on her future with Isaac Knight. It was silly to give attention to anything else, for nothing else guaranteed her a future in the community.

“You’re Authority Knight’s bride-to-be now. Don’t forsake this gift,” her mother said.

Carrington smiled and was rewarded with a smile from her mother. Her mother launched into another round of probing questions and Carrington kept a smile plastered on her lips. She caught her father’s glance and found a soft sadness behind his eyes. Not the disapproval her mother often wore, but a kind sorrow that made her believe he would steal her away from all of this if he could.

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