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Saturday, 27 June 2009

Two

Sometimes I have to use people to get me places. Sometimes I don’t make all the right choices, but I know that.

In a way, this is an equal exchange. Autumn’s life is boring. She has her rich ass mom and her two little friends who I don’t really like much at all. I could definitely make her life more interesting, that's for sure. We’re each giving each other something, so it’s not that bad.

Sometimes I hang around people just to see what they’re like, and then they think I’m their friend eventually, so I just go along with it. I guess sometimes I just look at a person who’s completely opposite from me and get so wrapped up in what their life must be like that I go after them to see. Autumn started like that. She’s rich and kinda shy, a goody-two-shoes who tries pretty hard not to seem that way. She’s good looking, with the red hair and green eyes, and she’s not as skinny as the rest of them.


I’ve met a lot of people this way--by just seeing what they're like. I’ve met stupid people who’re fun when you need a dumb laugh and who make good customers. I’ve met old people who let me clean their bathrooms and collect their rations for them, too. If you don’t have a lot, you gotta compensate. You gotta learn to be charming. I’m not particularly charming, but I try. People like it. People like the charm. I guess it's my green eyes, or the smile. Anyway, Autumn’s stuck on me. I see no point in letting her go; she’s smart enough that you can have a good conversation with her. She’ll do me a lot of favors, I can tell.


I have to do her favors back, too, then. She asked me if I wanted to go with her to pick up rations after school. I’m glad I got to know her. She can stand the way my bones protrude, sometimes the stench of marijuana, sometimes the breath of alcohol, my tattered clothes. She knows I smuggle drugs, too. She wants to break away from her life with her nurse mom and her luxurious house with a mini-fridge and two beds, I can tell.


I stood with her at the foot of the stairs that lead above ground. There were about a million people in line and it was taking forever, like always.


“I haven’t been up in a while,” she said. She’s one of those people who only goes up to pick up rations, which is stupid. We’re living in dust and dirt, yet we have this little park that allows sunlight and fresh air. Nobody takes the opportunity, though. I swear that Kurt and I are the only ones who realize that we can go up whenever, just to walk around or smoke or climb the trees. There’s less Underground Enforcement Agents there; I can do whatever the fuck I want, basically, and that’s hard to come by in the Underground.


“You don’t ever go up just for fun?” I asked Autumn. She was busy counting the number of people in line to go above, but stopped right away when I asked the question.


“No,” she said. She shook her head. It disappoints me how boring some people are. They can’t think of things to do to keep themselves from getting bored. Even if I’m doing something boring, I can always find something to think about to keep me entertained. There’s an awful lot of things in this world to think about, after all.


“You should,” I said. “I’ll show you around. There’s lot of stuff to do. Don’t you like how green it is?”


“Green?” she asked.


“Yeah,” I said. “Everything in the Underground’s brown. It’s fucking ugly and boring. But above ground it’s all green—the grass and the bushes and trees and stuff; Underground’s just concrete slabs of building and ceiling tiles.”


“That’s true,” she said. She isn’t interesting. Nothing about her’s interesting. Sometimes when I meet a boring person, I try to get to know them well enough until I find that they’re just shy, and that they actually aren’t that horrifyingly boring.


We finally got to the top of the line, up the concrete stairs and to the booth by the turnstile. The Underground Enforcement Agent in the booth handed me my paperwork for admittance real quick, so quick that I didn’t look at first and realize it was Gordon. Gordon’s a smuggler, too, the one who provides me with everything from above ground. Whenever we meet up, it's right at the end of his shift. We hardly speak, because if he got found out he'd be executed. Not for the drugs, but for talking to an Underground while off duty, for bonding the two species, they call it. Gordon gave me a subtle nod, which Autumn saw, I’m sure, but pretended not to see.


I know a lot more about Abovegrounds just because I’m a smuggler. That’s how I know we’re the same species, unlike what the schools tell us. That’s why I wonder what else we’re lied too about, too. I think there’s a world out there. I don’t ever tell anyone, ‘cause they’d think I’m crazy, but I think there’s more than just Aboveground and Underground.

There’s two types of Enforcement Agents. There’s the rebellious, chill ones who joined the agency because they wanted to know what the Underground really was like. Those are the people who get me the alcohol and weed, which I sell down here for an even higher price. The other Enforcement Agents I like to think embody the government. They’re sadistic and think they’re all-powerful. They have fucking seven foot poles up their asses at all times. They uphold all the rules and break none themselves. I hate them.


I let Autumn push the turnstile. I stepped out into the fresh air behind her, and like every time, I breathed in huge gulps of air. I felt the sunlight on my skin, warm like it should be. I followed Autumn to the rations booths. Bs get more food than us every week; they get better food than us, too. Autumn stepped in line with people like her—people with shoes and clothes without holes, people who look at me and raise their eyebrows. I kept my distance.


“You’re not gonna wait with me?” she asked before I walked over to a bench. I hate when girls get attached—when the go to the bathroom to piss in groups and stuff like that.


“You’ll be fine without me,” I said. “And I’m a Rockwood; you know the reputation…”


“I don’t care about that,” she said, but she was lying. When people look at us weird when we’re together or whisper stuff that we can still hear, I can tell she always gets embarrassed. Her mom hates the sight of me, too. Autumn thinks I make her look cooler, I'm pretty sure. She gives me the benefits of hanging with a B class citizen. Like I said, it’s a tradeoff. The fact that she was lying pissed me off, though, so I waved goodbye and walked to the bench. I’m getting better at walking away from things. I haven’t been suspended yet this year.


She waited forever and got her food. When she was done with the line, she came over to me on the splintery wooden bench and tossed me this package out of her plastic rations bag. There were two little chocolate cakes inside. I tore the package open with my teeth and gave one of the cakes to her. I hadn’t eaten something that good since who knows when. I ate the cake fast at first, but then I slowed way down and savored it; I almost licked my fingers, even. I never lick my fingers, since I like to be as clean as possible. My feet get dirty enough; sometimes I can’t buy soap ‘cause I need to buy food instead. It just makes me feel worse the dirtier I am, even if nobody else can see it.


After we ate things got sort of awkward, the way we were just sitting there. She was looking straightforward; she was probably worried she’d seem to eager if she looked me in the eye. I tugged the sleeves of my black sweatshirt down over my arms and rubbed my head. My hair’s getting too long.


“You ever hear about Sky Man?” I asked her.


“No,” she said. “Tell me.” She sounded genuinely interested, so I told her. She likes the myths, I know.


“Way back when, everyone believed in this all-powerful man who lived up in the sky, right? He was magical and good, and when people needed help, or when they were hurt or sad or whatever, they’d cry out to him.”


“So he wasn’t real?” Autumn asked. “Not a person or anything?”


“Sounds like bullshit to me,” I said. I wrinkled my nose. People from the past seem smart and stupid at the same time. “But it’s just a myth. Anyway, people started to fight because of Sky Man. Different groups of people believed different things about him or whatever. There were wars fought over him; different countries formed over him. Some horrific things came from this man who was supposed to be so good.”


Autumn was rummaging through the things in her rations bag. I tried not to look, because I knew I would get jealous. I wondered if Noah would have enough to buy us a bag this week or not. I was waiting for an Enforcement Agent, Seth, to get me some more weed to sell. Then maybe I could buy some bread off the Pension family. I would also have something to smoke myself, which would be real nice right now.


“Hello?” Autumn said. She waved her hand in front of my face. I could see down her green shirt a little; it didn’t fit her quite right. “What happened after that?” It’s good that my thoughts never let me get bored, but sometimes it’s not so great when I’m trying to have a conversation.


“Oh,” I said. “Anyway, the government decided too much bad was coming from Sky Man. They tried to erase him from peoples’ beliefs. They made the case that nobody’d actually seen Sky Man, so there was no reason to believe he existed. Pretty soon, anyone who still believed in him was considered a lunatic.”


“Weird,” said Autumn. “So how long ago did people believe that?” She picked up a banana from her rations bag and examined it. I wanted it so bad. I never get fruit. Looking at it almost made me feel sick. A gust of wind blew by.


“I don’t know,” I said. It was way more angry than I meant it to sound. It was the stupid banana. I bit down on my lip a little.


“You just made that up,” said Autumn. She laughed a little. She put the banana away and pulled out a loaf of bread. I flashed her a quick smile.


“Nah,” I said. “Not this one, I didn’t. I read it in a book. I think it was before The Division.” She laughed some more.


“You’re so making this up. There aren’t any books from back then, and besides, that’s fiction, dumbass.” I smiled again, for real this time. Some obnoxious bird started cawing real loud. Autumn’s so innocent.


“Yeah, and who says I haven’t gotten my hands on a banned book or five?” Autumn clasped her hands to her mouth like it was the biggest deal in the world. Things like that confirm that she follows all the rules and just pretends not to.


“Do you know the punishment for that—for reading fiction, for getting banned books? How did you even—“ I interrupted her and shrugged.


“Escapism, yeah…but who else has to know?”


“Bronson!” She said it all dramatically, but then I think she realized she was overreacting. I saw her shoulders sink down like she was relaxing, and then she stretched her little arms up to the sky and took a huge breath in.


“I feel like I belong here,” she said.


“Of course you do,” I said. “That’s because everybody does belong up here. Nobody belongs in the Underground, it’s not even—“


“Bronson.” She interrupted me this time. “Save your revolutionary, anti-government talk for another day, okay?” I fucking hate that about Bs, about the so-called upper class Undergrounds. It’s easy for Bs not to complain. It’s easy for her the way she’s always got food in her stomach, the way she always smells like a fucking flower ‘cause she can afford her soap and shampoo. It’s easy for her to say when her feet never have to touch the mud. Luckily I’m real good at smiling. I smiled at her.


“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I said. I calmed myself down and ran my hand down her arm, real gentle.


“Don’t do anything stupid, Bronson,” she said. “Don’t go off and get yourself arrested.”


“Me and the Enforcement Agents are tight,” I said, and I smiled, for real this time, because I knew she’d think I was being sarcastic, when there was really some truth to that statement. “I won’t get in trouble.” I thought of trouble and then I realized that I hadn't found a place to stay tonight.


“Your mom home?” I asked. Autumn snickered.


“No,” she said, like the answer was so obvious. “My mom’s always working overtime hours. She’s doing the overnight shift at the hospital. Why?”


“If it’s not too much,” I said, “I was wondering if I could crash at your house tonight. I’m just real tired, and the walk home’s pretty long, so—“


“It’s no problem,” said Autumn. She was about to burst, I could tell. There was the tradeoff. She thought I liked her; I got a place to stay. It almost worked too well.


We went back down underground; the lines weren’t nearly as long to get back in. They never are. Autumn’s house is only a mile from the gates. We walked there real quick, past the well-dressed people, to the nice little rows of B houses, all with the same big room for beds and a kitchen, then the little bathroom sticking out, the small little window overlooking roads.


Autumn took the house key out of her jeans pocket and unlocked the door. She took off her shoes right away. I wanted to fall right into her mom’s soft bed and sleep for forever under all those blankets; I wanted to take something cold from their mini-fridge. I sucked in a few breaths instead.


“Can I, uh, take a shower here?” I asked.


“Oh yeah, sure,” Autumn said. She pointed to the bathroom, in case I was stupid enough to know it wasn’t the only other room in the house, I guess. “There’s soap and shampoo already there. If you could just use a little…my mom would get pissed if she found out you were here.”


“Sure thing.” I nodded and walked to the shower. I turned the water on and put it all the way on cold, so cold it gave me a headache. I formed the schedule for the week in my mind of where to stay and when, but then I had to give up and just tried to go to bed.
One

I only break laws if it doesn’t hurt anyone else. I only break laws if I have a reason to. If what I'm doing isn't hurting anyone, then I don't see why it should be illegal. I would never steal; I only borrow. I only smoke because it gets me through the day. I only smuggle drugs and make money illegally because I need to eat. I only hate my dad because he’s a useless fuck. I only hate our government and all of the Underground because it’s unjustified to keep us here for no reason at all.
People don’t seem to know that about me. They look at me like some delinquent. I guess I’m a delinquent, but they don’t see it as survival; they see it as rebellion and disobedience. They only see my temper, not my drive. They only see my slipping around the rules, not my intelligence. That’s just the way it is. The real dangerous people are the people who are smart enough to do bad get away with it. Only stupid criminals get caught. About every teacher in the school hates my guts. They’d love me if I obeyed their pointless rules, but since I don’t sit on the ground like a good C-class boy’s supposed to, they hate me.

Luckily that bullshit doesn’t phase me. I couldn’t care less where a person like Autumn with her sneakers and nice clean clothes sits in school. I don’t care that she has her own little house with her own little bathroom that she shares only with her mother. I don’t see why people should look at me and see a ratty t-shirt and nasty ass bare feet and then jump to the conclusion that I’m good for nothing and lazy. I don’t care when people see or hear the name Rockwood, think of my father, and assume I’m a horrible person, too. They’re wrong. It’s just the Underground’s own little way of feeling like they’re better than someone.

We all do it. Abovegrounds think they’re better than us; they exclude themselves—call us a different species, even, which is complete bullshit. The Bs think they’re better than the Cs because they have more money. The Cs think they’re better than the Ds because they’re not homeless. We’re all just fucking human beings, the same pathetic people, always looking to be one step ahead of everyone else.
Summary

Bronson Rockwood is an Underground. In his world, society is divided into two groups: the privileged Abovegrounds and the deprived Undergrounds. The harsh, overbearing government rations food to Undergrounds, and pays school teacher to teach a skewed version of history, repress ideas, and convince the children that Aboveground and Undergrounds are a different species entirely.

Though a poor C-class citizen with a deadbeat dad, Bronson is extremely intelligent. He can turn on the charm, and his good looks--his blonde hair and piercing green eyes--help attract people, too. Acutely aware of others' emotions, yet unconcerned with how he makes others feel, Bronson "befriends" a beautiful and wealthy-for-an-Underground girl his age, Autumn Smith, right before his world unravels even more.

Through a thrilling series of plot twists and turns, Autumn and Bronson learn the truth about their government, social class, and the importance of family. They even begin to understand what can never completely be understood: themselves. And, along the way, they attempt the ultimate feat, something that's rarely been done before: escaping the Underground entirely.