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 (8 page)
“Don’t touch that,” warned Pamela, but Honor scrambled down anyway for a closer look. “You’ll cut yourself,” said Pamela.
“I’m being careful,” Honor said. She reached as far as she could into the pile, snagged the strap of the bag, and brought it up to show her mother.
Instinctively, Pamela glanced in the direction of the watchtower, but they were sheltered by the trellis covered with thick vines. Pamela looked hard at the bag. She was straining to remember something. “It’s a flight bag,” she said at last.
“A flight bag? From when people could fly?” Honor’s voice was hushed. When she was little her father had told her stories about the time when people flew in planes, but she’d never seen anything from back then. She’d imagined those days were so long ago that kings and queens still lived in castles. She’d pictured rockets and airplanes roaring through the sky like dragons in those once-upon-a-times when the atmosphere was not so delicate.
“See,” said Pamela, pointing to the blue bag. “There’s a picture of an airplane, and it says Blue Skies Kids. It must have been a child’s flight bag.”
“Open it,” said Honor.
Pamela hesitated. Then she pulled open the zipper on top. The bag was floppy and nearly empty. Pamela pulled out some old candy wrappers. Honor was disappointed. Then Pamela pulled out a box half full of colored pencils and a small plastic pencil sharpener.
“There’s something else,” said Pamela. She drew out a floppy workbook. It was called Learn to Draw, Step by Step.
Pamela set the book down in front of them and they gazed at the book’s yellow cover together. There was a drawing of a dog, half shaded, and the invitation, Start with simple shapes and learn to draw! They did not dare open the book because of Safety Measures. They both knew books were Not Approved for private use. Owning them was Not Allowed.
“Let’s go,” said Honor. The book was dangerous. She pulled at her mother and Pamela got up.
They started down the steps, but Pamela hesitated. She had a strange look on her face; her cheeks flushed pink. “I want it,” she whispered to Honor.
“No!” Honor protested, but her mother didn’t listen. She grabbed the book and stuffed it under her big shirt. “You can’t!” Honor said.
Pamela just walked on. Honor scurried to keep up. “Please, Mommy,” she begged.
“Shh,” said Pamela.
The school year was long in those days. The Corporation did not recognize the old seasons, and so there was no summer vacation on Island 365. The children in Honor’s class kept working. They harvested their vegetables and finished weaving their table runners. They sorted rocks and minerals and learned the properties of water.
One day in month seven they sat at their desks and copied Earth Mother’s famous essay The End of Winter.
In days of old, snow covered half the earth for half the year. There was little food, little light, little hope. The world was asleep. In the first glorious year of Enclosure, winter in the North came to an end. We sheltered the North from storms and cold. We brightened the dark skies. . . .
During copying Mrs. Whyte expected students to sit still. No talking or squirming was allowed. “Think of your penmanship,” she said, but the essay was long. It went on for so many paragraphs that Honor’s hand cramped. She snuck a look at the aquarium across the room, where new orange and purple fish swam back and forth. Only one more day and she would have a chance to feed them. She had been waiting for her turn. Fish monitor was her favorite job. Warm weather came to the North and strayed, copied Honor. Then she caught her mistake. She was supposed to have written stayed, not strayed. She sighed and took her white pen to blot out the error.
At that moment she saw Octavio move. He unfurled one long tentacle and then another. He seemed to be stretching. The suckers on his tentacles stuck to the glass as the octopus inched his way up the side of the tank. Why was he crawling up the glass? Was he sick? Was he trying to escape?
“Honor,” Mrs. Whyte said sharply. “What are you looking at?”
Honor ducked her head and turned back to her work.
All that day Honor peeked at Octavio. She was sure he was trying to get out, but no one else noticed.
The next morning at chore time, Honor went to the supply cabinet. The other girls were busy taking out the broom and mop, the brush and pan and wool dusters. Honor took out the jar of fish food. She climbed the ladder to reach the top of the huge tank and opened the hatch in the aquarium lid. She stared down into the water. The colorful fish were swimming upward expectantly, but there was the octopus as well, almost at the surface. Children were not allowed to feed Octavio. Orderlies fed him slugs and snails. Honor wondered if he was hungry. His soft body, usually russet brown, had changed to pink. He waved two tentacles in a kind of greeting as Honor looked into the water. His dark eye opened. He is looking at me again, thought Honor, and then, Wait till I tell Helix this.
She sprinkled the fish food, and as the particles floated downward, the other fish gobbled up the flakes. The octopus ignored them. He spread out his body. Again, he seemed to be waving, unfolding his whole rubbery being. Honor leaned over the rectangular opening in the tank’s lid and stared. Octavio shifted and she saw that he was staring back at her with his dark, bulbous eye. His tentacles beckoned just under the rippling water. All around Honor, the other students were going about their business, dusting and sweeping, spraying and wiping the desks. Mrs. Whyte was bending over Hedwig in the book corner, showing her something. Honor took a breath and dipped her fingers in the salty water.
In a flash, the octopus seized hold of her. Honor almost fell off the ladder, his grip was so strong. One tentacle wrapped around Honor’s wrist, then another seized her arm. The animal was heavy, wet, and dexterous as he heaved himself out of the water and clung to Honor. For a moment, she had to squeeze her eyes shut so that she wouldn’t scream. She clutched the side of the aquarium. Then, suddenly, Mrs. Whyte saw her with the octopus wrapped around her.
“Don’t move,” Mrs. Whyte cried. She snatched the broom from Hagar and hurried over. Mrs. Whyte’s lips were tight; Honor had never seen her teacher look this way before. Not stern or angry, but scared. The other girls were shrieking. Mrs. Whyte brandished the broom in front of her.
Then Honor knew that Mrs. Whyte was going to kill the octopus. She knew it from the look on her teacher’s face. Mrs. Whyte wasn’t going to put the octopus back in the tank; she was going to pry him off with the broom and smash him to pulp. Octavio was wrapped around Honor’s chest. He was not doing his job. He was going where he did not belong.
“No,” Honor called. “Don’t.” She was five steps up on the ladder. Her classmates were running to the other side of the room.
“Hold still.” Mrs. Whyte was trying to control her voice.
Octavio seemed to hear Mrs. Whyte. His tentacles stopped moving and he clung to Honor’s shoulder.
Honor felt faint. Her shirt was dripping wet. Her heart beat fast under the weight of the animal wrapped around her. She was afraid, but less frightened of the octopus than of her teacher.
“Honor,” said Mrs. Whyte. “Do exactly as I say. Hold the broom handle and take one step down. Now take another.”
Slowly, Honor descended the ladder. The classroom was still. The other girls were staring in silent horror.
As Honor crept down the ladder, she felt Mrs. Whyte grow bigger and bigger. Her teacher’s blue eyes were fierce.
“Let go of the broom now,” Mrs. Whyte said, but Honor held on to the broomstick. “I said let go,” Mrs. Whyte told Honor in a low voice. Still, Honor held the broomstick, much as Octavio held on to her. “Now!” With one sharp pull, Mrs. Whyte yanked the broom from Honor’s hands and Honor ran.
Octavio was heavy. Honor panted as she ran out the door with wet tentacles wrapped around her. She careened around the corner of the school building and ducked into the girls’ bathroom with its white and gray tiles, its white sinks and silver stalls. The tiles were cool against her legs as she sank down in the corner. Water trickled from one of the sinks. For a moment she felt safe. Then the emergency bells began ringing. She heard the running steps of orderlies outside.
Octavio slipped off Honor’s body and onto the floor. Gracefully, the creature began to scale the bathroom wall.
SEVEN
TWO ORDERLIES BURST THROUGH THE DOOR AND
scooped up Honor. They were immensely strong. Their faces were calm, not angry or fierce, but blank as always. The two lifted Honor right off the floor, one orderly under each elbow, and sped her away. She turned her head and saw two more orderlies following with sticks. She closed her eyes.
scooped up Honor. They were immensely strong. Their faces were calm, not angry or fierce, but blank as always. The two lifted Honor right off the floor, one orderly under each elbow, and sped her away. She turned her head and saw two more orderlies following with sticks. She closed her eyes.
When the orderlies dropped her off, Honor saw that she was not back in her own classroom; she was in the nurse’s office. The orderlies deposited her in a chair and the school nurse approached with a thermometer. “Are you all right?” the plump blond nurse asked.
Honor nodded.
“Where did the accident happen?” the nurse asked.
“I didn’t have an accident,” said Honor.
“Yes, but I have to fill out an accident report,” the nurse said kindly, and she showed Honor her clipboard with the accident form printed on pink paper. “My name is Nurse Applebee.”
Honor examined the nurse’s dimpled hands. The name Applebee made her think of honey.
“Tell me exactly where the accident happened,” said Nurse Applebee.
“In my classroom,” said Honor.
“Yes?” said the nurse.
Honor remembered Mrs. Whyte’s words: We do not lie. Ever.
“I fell into the aquarium,” she said.
Fell into the aquarium, Nurse Applebee wrote slowly. Then she looked up and asked, “Why aren’t you wet?”
“Look.” Honor showed the nurse the front of her shirt.
“But shouldn’t you be wet all over?”
Again, Honor remembered Mrs. Whyte. Do you know what exaggeration is? “Octavio pulled me out,” said Honor.
“The class octopus?”
“Don’t kill him,” Honor pleaded. “He saved me.”
“Why do you say that?” the nurse asked.
“Don’t kill him,” she begged. “Please, please . . .”
Nurse Applebee leaned forward. She spoke quickly and quietly. “Stop that. You aren’t a baby, and you know as well as I do that if the orderlies got him, he’s already dead.”
When Honor returned to the classroom, she carried the pink accident report signed by Nurse Applebee and sealed in an envelope. She did not know what the report said, but Mrs. Whyte frowned when she read it. “I’m disappointed,” Mrs. Whyte said at last.
Honor bowed her head.
Mrs. Whyte spoke again, and each word fell like a blow. “I am very unhappy with you.”
Honor stood silently before her teacher.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Mrs. Whyte asked.
Honor couldn’t speak.
“I’m waiting,” Mrs. Whyte said.
Honor stared at the floor. No words came.
“Go to your loom and get to work,” Mrs. Whyte snapped.
All that long afternoon, Honor kept her head down as she worked, avoiding the stares of the other children. She didn’t dare look at Mrs. Whyte. She kept her eyes on her shuttle and the threads in her loom.
At the end of the day, when the students lined up for the bus, Honor didn’t push to the front, but let the others go first. She felt beaten, even though no one had hit her; her body ached. When the doors finally opened for her stop, she trudged off the bus, dragging her book bag behind her.
Instead of her mother, her father was standing by the side of the road to meet her. “Hurry,” he told her, taking her book bag. He seemed excited and nervous. “You can walk faster than that.” He pulled her by the hand and they hurried to the City Center.
Thousands upon thousands of silvery bicycles flashed through the City. It was rush hour and the office workers were cycling home. The footbridges were packed, and as Honor and her father tried to walk across, there were so many workers crowded together that Honor could see nothing but their sweaty backs. Somehow, her father found an opening to push forward. Below them, the bicycles shimmered like a silver river in the afternoon sun.
Honor’s father led her past the Safety Bureau, with its lavish waterless fountains casting colors through tall prisms. Will rushed Honor through the Corporation Plaza, with its flags flying. One hundred flags, and on each flag seven stars to represent the seven seas. They passed the windowless Central Store. They passed the Coupon Bank, the Island Bakery. They passed the bus depot, where a hundred silver buses waited to take the orderlies back to their Barracks on the other side of the island. At last they arrived at the hospital, surrounded by gardens and coral block walls.
Will showed his identification card to the usher and led Honor up the stairs to a room of beds. The room was painted clean white, but the paint was cracked. Several large windows were boarded up. The glass must have broken in the storm.
Honor’s mother was sitting up against pillows in a white gown. Honor cried out and ran toward her.
“No, no, no.” The nurse hustled Honor out of the room. “We cannot have children in the ward,” the nurse scolded Will. “Take her downstairs, please.”
“Can’t she stay in the hall?” Will pleaded.
“Are you arguing with me?” the nurse asked.
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