Truancy Origins (31 page)

“My dad . . . well, being Mayor and all . . . didn't exactly get to see much of him you know?” Umasi said as he took another sip from his bottle. “But I never thought he'd . . . he'd betray us like
that.
I always thought he loved us.”

“Man, you got it bad, you did,” Red acknowledged. “I had a good mom, I think. She was always saying that going out and getting exercise and fresh air and all that was important. Then when I did she'd tell me to get back in here you miserable boy and finish your homework.”

“I never had a mom, not that I can remember,” Umasi said. “Adopted and all that . . . I think my real mom named me and my bro, though. Zen got the better name, I think. I'm not too fond of my name, did you know that?”

“Yeah, well I'm named after a . . . what do you call those things . . . a color,” Red complained. “It's like . . . my parents got real lazy . . . or drunk. Might as well have named me . . . purple or something.”

“Red's not a bad name,” Umasi insisted. “It's like . . . Ted, but with an R.”

“Funny, I never thought of it like that,” Red said as he took another swig. “So . . . uh . . . how long have you been out here, like as a vagrant?”

“Now that you mention it, I think . . . I think it was like . . . what, a few weeks?” Umasi said. “I could've sworn it was longer, but I guess it only felt that way.”

“Yeah I lost track myself, you know,” Red murmured. “I'm pretty sure it's been at least two winters besides this one, though. You always remember the . . . that cold stuff . . .
snow
.”

“Two years, man, that's rough,” Umasi said. “I barely been one for a week, and it was . . . it was . . . was awful, I think.”

Red and Umasi continued drinking in silence as the bonfire flickered and cast dancing shadows through the snow. The silence stretched on and on, until both of them had nearly gotten through an entire other bottle. Suddenly a bolt of pain shot through Red's gut, and he doubled over in agony. Umasi looked over at him.

“You all right?” Umasi asked, suddenly sounding much more sober than he had mere minutes ago.

“I'm . . . I'm fine,” Red replied as the pain faded. “It's just that damn ape . . . no, appendix. It's acting up again.”

“Appendix?”

“Yeah, at least, that's what I think it is. Who knows?” Red spread his arms as if asking the City in general.

“It's been bothering you for a while now?”

“Yeah, getting worse all the time.” Red nodded gravely.

“Maybe you should see a doctor.”

“Impossible.” Red snorted. “Million problems with that . . . you're a silly guy . . . besides, I'm fine, I got plenty of life left in me.”

“I dunno, you look pretty sickly to me.” Umasi's speech slurred anew with a fresh gulp.

“Sickly?” Red waved his bottle angrily. “I'm the fastest vagrant in this entire City! No one can outrun me!”

“That so?” Umasi smirked. “I bet I can beat you in a race!”

“You're on!” Red shouted, leaping to his feet. “I'll . . . I'll beat you so bad . . . you'll be like the tortoise in that racing story!”

“The tortoise won,” Umasi pointed out.

“The weasel then!” Red hiccupped as he stumbled around the bonfire. “Let's go! We'll see what animal is faster!”

“Yeah . . . real fast,” Umasi agreed, swaying slightly. “But maybe, you know, we might could do that . . . later . . . kind of not in the mood now.”

Red pondered that suggestion for a moment.

“Yeah . . . yeah . . . later sounds good.” Red decided, as he sat back down. “I'm feeling kind of . . . tired . . . now that you mention it.”

And with that, Red tipped over and collapsed, alcohol coursing through his veins and throbbing painfully in his head. In the brief moments of consciousness that followed, Red heard only one distinct sentence, spoken close by his head, and he thought that he recognized Umasi's muttering voice.

“Man, he's a lightweight for sure.”

And then he passed out.

 

H
uffing, Umasi ran up the steep incline of the street, trailing just slightly behind Red. It had been several days since the vagrant had shown up in District 19, and Umasi never ceased to be surprised by how fast he could run. As far as sprinting was concerned, they had very quickly established that Red was superior. Since then they had taken to running long, elaborate marathons through the streets of District 19, and Umasi found that he stood much more of a chance with these long-distance races.

As they reached the top of the paved hill, Umasi saw that they were coming up on one of the many obstacles that had naturally formed over the years: a run-down building had collapsed, creating a miniature mountain of debris right in the middle of the road. Far from going around it, however, the two boys tackled the problem head-on, scrambling over it as fast as they could. Umasi was able to find better footholds in the mess than Red, and slid down the other side with a small lead.

“Passed you!” Umasi taunted over his shoulder.

“Not for long!” Red shouted back as his feet touched down on smooth pavement again.

The weather had warmed slightly since Red had shown up, and though the air remained chilly, the sun was bright and the skies were blue. All the snow from the great blizzard had melted. This, in addition to good food, had seemed to do wonders for Red's constitution. True to his promise, Red sped up and was soon running evenly with Umasi. By this point they were both breathing heavily, a fact that wasn't lost on either of them.

“Want . . . to slow . . . down?” Umasi suggested between breaths.

“Are you . . . getting . . . tired?”

“You're the one . . . that fainted . . . the other day,” Umasi pointed out, causing Red's face to live up to his name.

“I just . . . had a few . . . too many drinks,” Red insisted.

“Lightweight.”

“Tortoise.”

“Remember . . . the hare . . . took a break,” Umasi pointed out.

“Good point,” Red admitted, slowing down to a jog.

Umasi followed suit, and the two continued their trek through the empty streets at a slower pace. As they ran, Umasi cast a furtive glance over at his newfound friend. The amber-eyed vagrant looked quite civilized after just a day or two of baths and new clothes. His health and stamina had
also improved noticeably during their runs, though he still complained about his painful appendix.

Umasi hadn't realized how much he missed human company until Red showed up. There was just something about being able to have open conversations that refreshed his spirit. Umasi could relate to this troubled vagrant. No matter how much dirt covered him, Umasi recognized that Red was a good person at heart. Of course, that raised an awkward question in Umasi's mind, one that he hadn't yet felt comfortable asking.

Umasi glanced over at Red, who seemed to be admiring the abandoned urban scenery. It was probably better to satisfy his curiosity now and get it out of the way.

“So, Red,” Umasi said, “how did you end up becoming a vagrant? Why did you run away?”

Red blanched.

“I didn't run away,” he said after a moment's pause. “I was forced out.”

“By your parents?”

“No.” Red shook his head. “By the Educators. I was expelled.”

“Why?”

“For cheating,” Red said darkly. “It was my fault. I deserved it. I was stupid.”

“Did you just peek at someone else's test or something?”

“Nah. I let a friend peek at
my
tests for the entire term. My homework too. He would've been thrown out with a failure if I hadn't helped him. But the teacher eventually caught on, and the rest is history.”

Red's voice was bitter as he relayed the story. Umasi glanced over at him. Cheating was one of the most vilified acts in the City. Any student found guilty of it, or even suspected of it, was lucky to avoid expulsion, and if they did the Educators made sure that word of their misdeeds would follow them like a curse.

But as Umasi dwelled upon Red's fate, he realized something. It was as if a ray of light had cut through the darkness the Educators had cast in order to illuminate the truth.

“Red,” Umasi said, “you didn't do anything wrong.”

Red turned to look at Umasi in surprise. “What?”

“Helping someone else at great risk to yourself, with no guarantee of a reward?” Umasi said. “That sounds more like generosity to me.”

Red blinked at that.

“Generous or not, it's still a crime.”

“It's a crime because the Educators say it is,” Umasi said, “but who is the victim?”

“Well,” Red said uncomfortably, “say someone who earned his grades alone applies for something and gets outdone by someone I helped. You have a victim there.”

“Imagine that you help a needy friend get a job over the head of someone who tried alone,” Umasi said. “Would you have done a wicked thing?”

“But that's not the same thing, tests are supposed to—”

“In both cases you have a victim of competition,” Umasi said. “Should you really be condemned for helping a friend over an obstacle at great risk to yourself?”

Red had no answer to that, but jogged on in silence, apparently deep in thought.

“Risking your own neck to help someone when you
know
you could be punished and vilified for it,” Umasi continued, “
that
shows spirit, the very thing that the Educators seek to break. They can only completely succeed when there is no selflessness like yours left to challenge them.” Umasi turned to face Red. “Red, my father did you a great wrong, and I'm sorry that it landed you here.”

“You know,” Red began, “all these years the Educators had me convinced that I got what I deserved. But now I'm not so sure.”

“Few people deserve what you've gone through,” Umasi said, shaking his head. “It's all wrong. This entire City is wrong.”

The two continued to jog in silence for several moments after that, the only noise their footfalls upon the bare asphalt.

“Yeah, well, enough about my debatable past,” Red said. “What about you? You're just out here because of what your brother did, right? No matter how you look at it, you've been squeaky clean compared to me.”

“My brother is guilty of enough crimes for the both of us.” Umasi frowned. “The Educators may be wrong, but he's the farthest thing from right that there is. I could've stopped him before. I
should've
stopped him before. I didn't, and now every time he kills it's just as much my fault as it is his.”

“Now, that's just stupid,” Red said. “He's your
brother,
and from what you said you weren't nearly as strong back then as you are now. What were you supposed to do?”

“Tell someone. Fight him. Sabotage his efforts. Anything, really,” Umasi said. “I was a coward. I was too afraid to even try.”

“But that's all in the past now, huh?” Red said.

“That's right.” Umasi nodded. “I'm not so weak anymore.”

“Well, strength and fighting isn't everything,” Red said. “Let's see how much faster you've gotten, shall we?”

Without warning Red launched into a sudden sprint, darting forward like a rocket. After a moment's pause, Umasi gave pursuit, his legs a blur as he struggled to catch up.

“That was a dirty trick, you cheater!” Umasi said with mock anger.

Red just laughed, and Umasi joined in. As they ran, neither of the two children could remember a time when their hearts had felt quite so light.

 

S
o, you must be Chris.”

Chris licked his lips as he looked across the sterile table at his interrogator, a massive man with nearly shaven, graying red hair that he knew must be Rothenberg. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, illuminating them both, and Chris couldn't help but sweat under the vicious gaze of the towering Enforcer.

“I asked you a question, vagrant!” the man shouted, slamming a fist against the table.

“Yes, yes, I'm Chris!” Chris squeaked. “You . . . you're Rothenberg, right?”

“No,” Rothenberg said in a dangerous voice. “To you, I am ‘sir,' ‘Chief Truancy Officer,' or ‘Mr. Rothenberg,' got it?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Rothenberg!”

This meeting was not off to the start that Chris had hoped for. They were currently in the District 14 Enforcer Station, a locale that Chris had frequented as a vagrant, and one that was conveniently close to the Truancy's hideout in District 15. He had managed to slip away while supposedly gathering materials from abandoned houses, and he knew that he wouldn't be missed for at least another hour. When he marched into the station, he had expected to be treated as a hero. Instead, he'd been hustled into a dark interrogation room by a group of special Enforcers who identified themselves as Rothenberg's team. Chris had quickly been joined by their redoubtable boss.

“So, Chris, when you called you mentioned that you had some interesting information for me,” Rothenberg said. “Did you mean that you wanted to lead your little rat pack to the slaughter again?”

“No, sir,” Chris said, excitement overtaking his fear. “Better.”

“Let's hear it then,” Rothenberg said, a note of eagerness in his voice.

“There're these kids, these crazy student dropouts,” Chris said. “They . . . they're forming a rebellion against the Educators! And they've let me join them!”

Rothenberg stared. Then he laughed for a moment, before stopping abruptly and raising his fist again.

“Listen carefully boy,” Rothenberg said, “I have no patience for lies.”