Read The Other Side of the Island Online
Authors: Allegra Goodman
Tags: #Nature & the Natural World, #Social Issues, #Families, #Family, #Juvenile Fiction, #Individuality, #Fantasy & Magic, #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Family Life, #Weather, #Peer Pressure, #Islands, #General, #Domestic fiction
The Other Side of the Island (15 page)
She missed Quintilian. Her afternoon was easy but also empty without him. A huge sadness welled up inside her as she wrote out her algebra equations. She wanted her parents—but once again they were late. She went to her bedroom, but they had not left the glitter globe out for her. This had happened once or twice before when they stayed out late. They always apologized in the morning.
Through the window she saw it was hour seven. In the pink light she ate oatmeal cookies and mangoes for dinner. She drank a glass of milk.
After the green flash, the sky shifted to lavender, then deep purple. No sign of her mother and father. Honor began pacing back and forth in the living room. Every few seconds she looked anxiously at the front door. Then a black mark on the curtain caught her eye. The curtain hanging near the front window had gotten caught in the door. She could see the grease stain from the lock. The stain her mother always warned about—“Don’t catch the curtain!”
She looked back at the living room. Everything was as it should be, neat and orderly, maybe even neater than before. The coffee table was covered with Quintilian’s toys, but they’d been arranged neatly, Evacuation in its box, playing cards stacked on top. She peeked into her bedroom, Quintilian’s bedroom, the hall closet. The closet shelves were piled with folded sheets and towels. She stared for a long time at the two kites lying on the top shelf in a tangle of string and wrinkled wings.
She walked through the bedrooms. They were untouched, but the light was on in her parents’ bathroom. The door stood ajar. She stood a long time before the door. She was afraid to open it. She didn’t want to touch it, but she had to. She was beginning to shiver. She was so cold her teeth were chattering. She put her hand on the door and pushed. There on the tile floor lay the glitter globe, smashed in a little pool of sparkling water.
She doubled over, almost sick. She didn’t know who’d broken it or how. Safety Officers? Search dogs? Had her mother tried to take the glitter globe with her? Or had her father smashed it to warn her? She didn’t know. She would never find out. All she knew was that she and Quintilian were alone now. Their parents had been taken.
PART THREE
ONE
AT FIRST, HONOR HOPED THERE WAS SOME MISTAKE. HER
parents weren’t missing, only late again or lost or robbed as they had been that time before. She hoped she was dreaming even when she saw the sunrise through the window. She was still wearing her school uniform, and she was curled up on the couch, wrapped in the old blue mohair blanket from the North.
parents weren’t missing, only late again or lost or robbed as they had been that time before. She hoped she was dreaming even when she saw the sunrise through the window. She was still wearing her school uniform, and she was curled up on the couch, wrapped in the old blue mohair blanket from the North.
The house was filled with light: pure canary yellow. The day’s first weather bulletin was sounding. Honor shook off sleep. She raced into her parents’ room, but their bed was smooth and blank, the white covers pulled up neatly. She didn’t dare look again at the glitter globe on the floor of her parents’ bathroom. Her uniform was wrinkled, and she had to catch the bus. What would she tell Quintilian? They couldn’t be orphans. They just couldn’t. They couldn’t live with the boarders at school. There were no orphans in Honor’s class of girls. Only Hector and Helix on the boys’ side. The girls’ class had a perfect twelve and Honor had been perfect too. Or she had tried to be.
She stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. The girl she’d been the day before was gone. Her hair was messy now, her uniform creased. Her face was pale and streaked with tears, even though she couldn’t remember crying. The identity card in her pocket still said Honor and not Heloise. You see now? she heard Miss Blessing tell her. And she did see. She had brought this on her parents. She had exposed them just when she should have been protecting them. She’d changed her name against their wishes. She’d lied, and when at last she’d told the truth, everybody had known—Miss Blessing had known, and the Safety Officers had known. The whole Corporation knew that Honor’s parents were unusual; their ideas were Inaccurate. They did not belong.
How could she have called her own parents lunatics? They might be going to the asylum now, the dusty glass houses on the moon. All the little children thought that was where the Disappeared ended up.
Honor was shivering again. What should she do? She began pulling out drawers in the kitchen. She looked inside all the cabinets. Wouldn’t they have left a note? Some instructions for her, just in case? She searched under the beds. The sky changed from canary yellow to pale blue. She knew only one thing. She could not miss the bus to school.
There was no time for breakfast. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she tore off her creased clothes and changed quickly into her other uniform. She brushed her hair and tried to smooth it down. She clapped her sun hat on her head and took her book bag and her key. She could not miss the bus; she had to catch it, or everyone would know.
Ms. Lynch did not treat Honor differently. She did not look at Honor specially or call her out of class. There was no message to go to Miss Blessing’s office either, even though Honor sat on the edge of her chair expecting one. She concentrated on school. She thought only about her work. There would be no change in her. No one would ever know her parents were gone. She felt her life depended on it. When she took a math test, Honor checked her work twice, and she was grateful for the silence in the classroom and the slow-moving clock. She didn’t want school to end.
Honor’s heart jumped when the last bell rang, but she tried to stay calm. Head down, she gathered her books. She walked to the infirmary and got Quintilian, who was sitting up in bed and feeling much better. She didn’t tell him anything but hurried him onto the bus as if it were an ordinary day.
They walked home from the bus stop and Quintilian dashed ahead, zooming and zipping and making noises like submarines—“Fooosh! Splashdown!”—for an imaginary story he was telling himself.
Honor didn’t tell Quintilian anything. She unlocked the door as she always did and gave him New Directives to cut up while she did her homework. She half believed that somehow her parents would come home. When it got dark, Honor acted as though Will and Pamela were out late again, and she made toast for dinner. Quintilian liked toast with butter. But Honor saw when she opened the refrigerator that there was hardly any butter left. She hadn’t cried all day, but when she saw only a sliver of butter, tears started in her eyes. How would they get enough food for dinner without their parents’ coupon books? As a thirteen-year-old, Honor got only thirteen points a week, and Quintilian was only three, so he got none.
She gave Quintilian the butter and ate her own toast plain. Then she said, “Put on your pajamas and I’ll tell you a story.”
“Why?” asked Quintilian.
“Because it’s time for bed.”
“Where’s Mommy and Daddy?”
“They must be late,” Honor said. “Time to brush your teeth.”
“No, I’m waiting,” said Quintilian.
“It’s your bedtime,” said Honor, and started dragging him to his room.
Quintilian started screaming.
“Do you want the Neighborhood Watch to come?” Honor demanded, pulling hard on his arm.
“I don’t care. I don’t CARE!” Quintilian screamed even louder.
“Do you want them to come and give us a ticket? Those are thirty points! We won’t have any food for a week! Quiet down. The Watch might be coming any minute.”
Quintilian took a long shuddering breath and listened. “Do you hear them now?” he asked.
“No, not yet, but you’d better come.” She had to get him to bed. She couldn’t talk to him anymore. She didn’t know what to say.
All that night she dreaded the morning, when Quintilian would come into their parents’ room looking for them. She couldn’t sleep. Then, after she finally drifted off, she almost overslept. Just as she heard Quintilian stirring, she rushed out in her nightgown and closed her parents’ door and sat down in front of it for good measure.
“I want Mommy and Daddy,” said Quintilian.
“You can’t see them,” said Honor.
“I want Mommy and Daddy. Open the door.”
“Breakfast first,” said Honor.
Quintilian looked at her. “Get up,” he said.
“I will if you come with me.”
“Get up,” he said.
Slowly, she got to her feet.
He leaped for the door, but she blocked him.
“I want Mommy and Daddy!” he wailed. Kicking and biting, he threw himself at Honor.
She let him attack her, and then suddenly she thought there was no use holding him off. She couldn’t pretend to him any longer. She opened the door and he rushed inside the empty bedroom. He searched everywhere. Then she sat down next to him in the hall and told him.
“But where are they?” Quintilian asked her.
“Nobody knows,” said Honor.
“Where are Mommy and Daddy?” he asked.
“They’re gone,” she said.
“Gone where?”
“Gone.”
“I want them!” He began to cry.
“I know. But it’s late. We have to go to school.”
“I don’t want to go to school. I want Mommy and Daddy. They aren’t taken; they’re coming back.”
“Please, please stop crying,” Honor said.
“They are not gone,” sobbed Quintilian. “They are not taken.”
Honor tried stroking his hair; she tried promising him a treat. She tried everything until at last she lied, “You’re right. They’re coming back.”
When he heard that, Quintilian stopped crying. “When are they coming? Tomorrow?”
Honor hesitated.
“The day after tomorrow?”
“Yes,” she said. “But we have to do everything right. You are going to have to be very good.”
TWO
THEY WERE CAREFUL, THE TWO OF THEM. THEY PRACTICALLY
tiptoed around the house. Quintilian still looked for their parents. He looked in all the closets and under the beds, but Honor told him they wouldn’t come if he screamed and cried. He played quietly while Honor washed the dishes and separated the recyclables into their ten bins. On Errand Day he helped Honor take the dirty clothes to the laundry machines. They washed Will’s and Pamela’s clothes as usual and set up the racks in the living room as usual to hang the clothes to dry.
tiptoed around the house. Quintilian still looked for their parents. He looked in all the closets and under the beds, but Honor told him they wouldn’t come if he screamed and cried. He played quietly while Honor washed the dishes and separated the recyclables into their ten bins. On Errand Day he helped Honor take the dirty clothes to the laundry machines. They washed Will’s and Pamela’s clothes as usual and set up the racks in the living room as usual to hang the clothes to dry.
They took the bus to the City, and Honor bought milk and bread and cans of fish with her coupons. Quintilian didn’t say anything about candy because Honor had warned him. She’d told him what would happen if he made a fuss. “Do you want us to be orphans?” she’d asked him. “You have to listen to me, or they’ll make us live at school.”
Honor was afraid at first that Quintilian wouldn’t listen to her, but as the days passed, he lost his stubbornness. He just looked tiny and scared and did exactly what she said. Every night he tried to wait up, but every night their parents didn’t come, and he fell asleep holding Honor’s old bear in his arms.
Honor did everything right. She got Quintilian to the bus on time. She did all her homework. She kept the house neat, although not as neat as it had been before. At night she pushed Quintilian’s toys under the furniture. When mail arrived, Honor stacked it neatly in the closet. She never opened the envelopes.
At bedtime Honor told Quintilian his favorite bedtime story. It was a story from one of the books in the school library, the tale of Dorothy and how she fell asleep and dreamed of the land of Oz. Honor told that story every night. Eventually Quintilian drifted off, but Honor stayed awake for hours. Where were they? Where had they gone? How had she allowed this to happen? She asked those questions over and over again. But the questions that really frightened her were simpler than that. Why did no one ask about her parents? No one came looking for Will and Pamela from work. No one said anything at school. The mail came as usual. New Directives piled up. The Neighborhood Watch, which was supposed to notice everything, never came to call. It didn’t feel as though her parents had been taken; it felt as though they’d never existed in the first place.
She became exhausted because she couldn’t sleep at night. Honor couldn’t keep her eyes open on the bus, and once she even drifted off in class. Ms. Lynch stood right over her and clapped in front of Honor’s face.
“Heloise!”
Honor started back in surprise. The other girls covered their mouths with their hands.
Honor’s classmates were quiet. They acted almost the same, and yet none of them, not even Helena, was quite as friendly to Honor as before. The girls did not come up to Honor and start conversations. She had to come over and talk to them. If she wanted Helena to be her walking partner, she had to ask first.
Quintilian was having trouble. He didn’t listen; he had accidents. He brought home red cards again, and Honor forged their parents’ signatures. She wrote the names as well as she could, but they looked nothing like Will’s and Pamela’s handwriting. Strangely, no one at school noticed. Eleven days passed.
The twelfth day was unusually hot, and Honor had archery practice. The heat was terrible on the field. Sweat trickled down her face, and she wanted desperately to take off her sun hat, but the students were not allowed to take off their hats outside. There were six targets set up, and the girls were shooting in pairs. Honor and Hedwig shot together. Hedwig was good, but Honor was better. She had been practicing at her Young Engineer meetings and had even won a school ribbon for Accuracy. When she lifted her bow, the other girls put theirs down to watch. Honor planted herself and stared at the target; she placed her arrow and pulled her bowstring taut all the way to her ear. She felt fierce and strong standing there with that weapon, and then she felt angry. She was furious. Her hands began to shake; her eyes filled with tears. She tried to steady herself, but when she released her first arrow, she shot straight into the grass. The other girls gasped. Honor wiped her tears on her sleeve and tried again, but she couldn’t see, because she was crying too hard. Miss Teasdale, the archery teacher, hurried over and took her bow.
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