The Broken Peace Page 7

  Sam interjects, “Why haven’t we heard about this before?”

  “I don’t know. Did you listen to your briefing on your way out here?”

  Sam looks back at me and makes another goofy face, this one more of a “whoops” expression.

  Janice chuckles. “I have already done it. I told the person in the AO that I don’t want anyone but a select few to be able to contact me. You two, Logan, and a few others are on my list.” Janice winks at us as. “I will see you guys later, okay?”

  We nod as she heads out of the kitchen. I turn to Sam who places his hands on his hips and lets out a deep breath. “Well, time for me to finish cleaning my mess.”

  I smile at him as I back away, just as Janice did. “I have already finished, so I’m going to go ahead and head down to the offices for my career meeting.”

  Another crashing noise echoes through the kitchen as one of the new workers slips in some of the water he had sprayed earlier and drops all the pans he was holding. Sam throws his head back in disappointment as the laughter echoes throughout the room.

  I chuckle to him. “Have fun.”

  He squints at me and gives me a sarcastic smile. “I will.” Sam turns around and struts back to his station.

  I let him finish his work and leave the building, hop in a cab, and ride down to the AO office. When I get there, I am forced to navigate my way through the people in the waiting room in order to get to the front desk. I listen to all the conversations blur together as I come through.

  “I want to be a fireman. Wouldn’t that be so amazing? I’d like to get to go in and save people from burning buildings!”

  “Right, like that would be fun. That is dangerous, Kevin, and you aren’t built for it. The only reason you want to do that is because you think it would be cool.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to be a farmer. Is that weird?”

  “Playing in dirt and poop all day, only to hope that food grows and your animals don’t die? No. Not at all.”

  “I want to train to be a grief counselor.”

  This last statement I hear in between all the madness that is around me catches my attention. I turn to see a red-haired woman with countless freckles, brown eyes, and scars on her wrist that she shows to the person she is sharing with. I can’t help but hope that this woman gets to have the career she wants.

  Most everyone from Bergland has their job already carried over from the mountain or are still in school preparing for future jobs, so I assume what I am seeing in here are mainly the Bestellen citizens. Throughout each of the conversations I grasp a bit of, I manage to hear them say something about being happy no longer being a slave.

  I feel the same way, but I still don’t know what I want to do.

  I think back to the many pamphlets that I have looked through. I saw hundreds of different career options, but I couldn’t really find one that I was prepared for, and I don’t desire to go through tons of training for something my heart really isn’t in.

  When I get to the front of the line, the lady at the desk asks me my name.

  “Mavis Wamsley,” I tell her.

  She smiles at me as she types into her hologram. “Go to the third floor, and a woman will meet you in the waiting room.”

  I nod. “Thank you.”

  Once I find the elevator down the unnaturally chilly hallway, I press the button and hear a ding. The light above the elevator comes on, and I wait for what feels like minutes for it to actually make its way down to me.

  As it opens, I take a step in, but am clobbered by an unnecessary number of people as they stampede out, not even acknowledging that I was there.

  I didn’t even get a chance to say sorry, but I guess that’s okay.

  I’m not anymore.

  Once I get in, the elevator takes me to the third floor without any interruptions. I take my seat in the waiting room down the hall and watch as people come out of the maze of doors, hallways, and desks.

  The lady that brings people from their meeting back to the waiting room so that they can leave looks as if she has had a very long day. She has bags under her eyes, her facial expression is constantly holding a sour look, and she gets louder every time she comes back into the room to call another name.

  “Rebecca Thomas,” she says the first time.

  “Taylor Jennings!” she semishouts the second time.

  “Randy Fipps!” she roars as she comes out the third time.

  At this point, I’m not sure if choosing a career right now is worth dealing with her. I can feel my stomach becoming upset as my breathing quickens.

  I hear the lady’s footsteps as she comes out with another person; this time, she has a smile on her face and a kind voice as she speaks to the man. She turns to the waiting room and looks around with the sweetest expressions I’ve ever seen on an office worker. “Mavis Wamsley?”

  I rise to my feet as the man with her spins around. “Mavis!” Logan calls out to me as he makes his way away from the worker. “Hey!”

  He wraps his arms around me before I can really do anything, so I return the hug awkwardly. “Hey, Logan!”

  I feel the slight sense of anxiety leave the longer we are embraced, but it soon returns when I realize how many people are staring at us.

  I pull away and look up to him. “So the house? How is it?”

  “It’s even bigger than the one I used to live in, and in better condition! I feel that to get that house, Young may have had to pull a lot of strings. It is really nice.” He chuckles. “Well, I mean, it is not as nice as all the others around it, but to me, it is all I could ever ask for.”

  “That’s great,” I tell him.

  “Do you want to come see it?” he asks me. “It isn’t but a fifteen-minute drive from here.”

  I nod. “I do, but I actually have to go into my career meeting.” I gesture back to the woman, who has allowed the sour look to return to her face.

  “Oh yeah, sorry. Do you know what you are going to choose?”

  I shake my head. “No. I still can’t figure it out. What did you choose?”

  “Well, Young really limited my choices due to the fact that I need rest, so I chose the career that he suggested.”

  “Yeah? What is it?”

  Logan’s arm comes up as he scratches the back of his head. “Um, cleaning the training rooms?”

  “Ah.” I find my head slowly lifting back in acknowledgment. “Fancy.”

  “Yes yes, it is.” He holds his finger up and straightens his posture. “It looks like we have a ‘bright future’ ahead of us,” he mocks.

  “Considering we heard that nonstop in Bergland, I figured you could have done it a little better.”

  He sarcastically scoffs and holds his chest. “Ouch.”

  The sour woman clears her throat and calls out my name again. “Wamsley. Mavis Wamsley.”

  I nod to Logan, and he nods to me as we part ways. I follow the woman down the hallway and am shown to another office, where a short bald man awaits with a hologram. The moment I step in, the woman slams the door shut behind me, scaring the man into pausing whatever he was typing.

  “Hello!” He stands and reaches out for my hand. “My name is Rhegan Garrett. Pleased to meet you.”

  I shake his hand, and we sit down in adjacent seats. His office is all painted one bland color that reminds me of a dying leaf, and there are no pictures or paintings anywhere. It is just him, his desk, and his hologram.

  After he finishes typing, he turns to me and folds his hands. “So, Ms. Wamsley, do you know what you want to do for a career?”

  “No, sir.” I chuckle, trying to make it not seem as pathetic as it feels. “I was kind of hoping you would help me with that.”

  He nods and leans back in his chair. “Let me think.” Mr. Garrett looks me up and down, seemin
gly scanning me for answers. “You look like you are an artist. Very creative.”

  I look around the room for someone else that he may be focusing on, but when I look back to him, he is still staring at me.

  “Um no, sir. I’m really not.”

  He folds his hands and points at me, still leaning back in his seat. “Cooking. How do you feel about cooking?”

  I shake my head. “I have been cooking nonstop for the past few weeks and would really like a change.”

  He holds his position for a moment before sitting back up and typing something into his computer. “I think I have the job for you.” Mr. Garrett turns back to me and folds his hands again. “I think you would make an amazing news photographer.”

  “News photographer?”

  “Yes!” he shouts with joy. “Your boss would give you a camera and an assignment. You would then go and take pictures of said assignment.”

  “You,” I stammer, “you think that’s a good job for me?”

  “Well, do you like looking at things?”

  I shrug. “I guess so.”

  “Then why not? This is just like that! You just point and shoot. You seem creative to me, and I feel like you can take a decent picture. Does that sound okay?” He begins typing on his hologram before I can answer.

  “I guess so.”

  “Wonderful!” A ding noise, followed by a hum, echoes through the room. The man looks down and tears a sheet of paper off his desk printer and hands it to me. On the top of the sheet lies an address.

  “Go to that address tomorrow at nine in the morning and meet your new boss, Mr. Vincent Trolly.” Mr. Garrett rises from his seat and takes my hand and gives it a quick shake. “Have a great night!” He leaves his desk and opens the door for me. Calling out into the hallway, he smiles at me. “Rhonda!”

  The sour woman returns to me with a fake smile and escorts me out of the office.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Sam

  After rising from my spot on the floor, folding my blankets, sliding a vial into my pocket, and trying to get the crick out of my neck, I leave the house that Sarah, myself, and the other workers stayed in last night.

  The sun rose about an hour ago, blinding me as it peaks over the trees in front of our house. I try my best to close the door as quietly as I can so that I won’t wake anyone, but I can’t help but feel like I am much louder than I need to be. After escaping the house and walking a mile or so until I find a cab patrolling, I head to the Administrative Office.

  Last night, after Mavis left the kitchen, we got a call from the AO. The woman on the phone asked me if I could come in this morning for the transfer meeting, and I happily told her I could.

  When the cabdriver drops me off at the front of the building, I head in and find myself almost running to the front desk.

  “Good morning,” I tell the woman at the hologram. “My name is Samuel Beckman. I was called in for a meeting about a hospital transfer.”

  The woman slowly looks at me as if she is still half asleep and takes a sip of her tea. “Go up to the fifth floor and speak to Mr. Jamison at the desk.”

  I nod to her and take the elevator up. I do the same thing the moment the elevator opens up on the fifth floor, I run to the front desk to see a man typing on his hologram.

  “Hi, are you Mr. Jamison?” I ask him.

  Unlike the woman downstairs, he turns to me with a large and bright smile. “Why, yes I am! How can I help you today?”

  “The woman downstairs told me to come talk to you. My name is Samuel Beckman, and I was called in for a hospital transfer meeting.”

  “Ah yes.” Mr. Jamison turns from his hologram to me and gives me a goofy smile. “Mr. Beckman, I can take you.”

  “Thank you. Can I also do my career scheduling thing today?”

  He rises from his desk and waves me to follow him. “Yes, sir, that sounds perfect.”

  I thank him again, and he drops me off in a small bland office with a man who is slightly taller than me and much skinnier.

  “Hello, Mr. Beckman!” He gestures to one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  I sit in the seat closest to me. “So have you reviewed my request?”

  “Wow, getting right down to business, I see.”

  “Yes, sir,” I answer. “So?”

  He smiles at me, though it seems like he is trying not to. My heart sinks as I hear his words leave his mouth. “I have. I am sorry to say that I cannot transfer your mother to any of the hospitals in or near the capital.”

  My stomach twists into knots, and I feel all the blood seem to force itself to the back of my head as the fear of not being able to bring my mother here sets in. “What?”

  “I’m sorry. I just can’t do that.”

  “You …” I feel my face get hot as I realize he is telling me that he can’t do it. What does he mean he can’t do it? Does he mean someone else can? “You can’t do it?”

  He shakes his pale scrawny head as a crooked tooth and squinty smile rises up on his face.

  “What? Are you happy about that? My mother needs me, and you can’t bring her to the same place I am working?” I try to keep calm, but I find myself jumping up from my seat. “You won’t bring a woman to be near her son in her time of need?”

  The man smiles again. “Mr. Beckman—”

  “Why are you smiling?”

  Is he laughing at me?

  Is he getting a kick out of this?

  I find myself stepping forward to him with my fists clenched as I hear my name called from behind. Immediately, all the anger drips out of me.

  I turn around to see my mother in the hallway with her arm all tied up like it was at the hospital, along with a suitcase by her side. “Surprise!” she cheers.

  She and I embrace once again and wrap our arms around each other. I feel the anger melt away and the fear of not getting to be with her slowly fall out of my body.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask her. “The man told me he couldn’t get the transfer.”

  “Actually,” the man chimes in, “I told you I couldn’t get a hospital transfer. I couldn’t get a hospital transfer because your mother has been discharged.”

  I let go of my mother and look back at the brat of a man who thought it would be funny to trick me like that, and I try to let the anger go.

  “He’s right,” Mom tells me after scooting by and sitting in one of the chairs. “I am as free as a bird now!” She looks down at her arm. “Well, as free as a bird with a broken wing.”

  I can’t help but smile and take a seat beside her. “Don’t you need to continue to rest?”

  “Oh no! I have been resting for weeks. It’s time for me to get out and do some work.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask her.

  “Of course. So have you chosen a career yet, Sam?”

  I shake my head. “No, ma’am. I actually was told I can choose it during this meeting.”

  “Wonderful!” she cheers. “Do you know what you want to do?”

  “No, ma’am.” I avoid eye contact with the man, but look back over to him. “I was going to ask and see what kind of thing would be best for me.”

  “Well,” the man says as he types into his hologram, “do you have any sort of idea as to what you’d like to do?”

  I shake my head.

  “What about you, Ms. Beckman?”

  Mom looks at me, then back at him. “Right now, I think I should probably just stick with what I know, which would be—”

  “Farming,” he interjects.

  Mom nods with a smile on her face as she looks at me. “I enjoy it, and it is something I have always found simple.”

  “I agree.” I nod back to her and turn to the man. “Can I do that too? Work with my mom? I know how so I won’t need any training.”
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br />   “Sounds perfect.” The man smiles as he types into his hologram. “There is actually a small house available on a farm owned by James Gohaki just outside of the city. You two fit the description of the type of people he wants to rent it out to. All you have to do is work on the farm and pay the utility bills.”

  “That sounds lovely!” Mom cheers, looking back to me. “How does that sound to you, Sam?”

  I nod. “That sounds great, Mom.”

  Whatever makes you happy.

  The man prints off our new address, along with the contact information and address of Mr. Gohaki. “Go ahead and go to Gohaki’s house. I will give him a call, and he will be ready for you two.”

  “Thank you,” my mother and I say in unison.

  As we rise, the two of us race to the suitcase. I smile at her as I beat her to it and wheel it out of the building, making it easier for her to make it down to the cab. On our way out to Gohaki’s farm, Mother and I comment on almost everything we pass.

  “Logan, the guy I told you about that was in the woods with me is staying in a recovery center right down that road.”

  “What? Really? What happened?”

  “He got blown up.”

  “Really?”

  “Twice.”

  The cabdriver laughs at us almost every time we comment on a building.

  “I have been working at a kitchen right down that road.”

  “You? Cooking?” She laughs at me. “But you hate cooking.”

  “But I know how, so that was my job.”

  “You were never very good at it though.” She chuckles as she looks out the other window. Mom oohs and aahs at the buildings we pass in the new and beautiful capital for what feels like the entire ride. She points out the different designs on each of the new buildings, talks about what good choices they made designing them, and how they are the prettiest buildings she has ever seen.

  “These are amazing! You know, I’ve always wanted to visit a city with big buildings, but I have never really wanted to live in one.” She turns to me and grabs my hand. “And now, we will be close enough to get to see the beauty of it while still living far enough away that we aren’t drowned by the madness.”