“I can barely read,” she sighs.
“You’ll learn. Just like I did,” I say. “They never let me go to school, because I was the second-born child, but I still managed to teach myself with mom’s help. I’m sure she’ll be happy to help you, once she can put her feet up and relax for a change.”
“Maybe,” Beverly mutters, looking into my eyes. “But I think she would be happier knowing you were safe. We all would be. Even Dad, although he’d never admit it.”
“No, he doesn’t believe in saying anything that doesn’t follow the status quo,” I agree. “Old habits, I’m sure. People used to go to prison for speaking out against things like the Reparations Auction.”
“Now they just stand idly by while their children are sold as slaves,” Beverly says. “That’s part of why I don’t want to get married, if I’m being honest. How could I bring a child into this world knowing they’ll be sold?”
“I mean, there are ways, if you’re determined enough,” I offer. “Plenty of people stop after their first child because of that. Especially in Concord City where they have access to birth control. But you really shouldn’t have to worry about that. Mom and Dad are going to be rich after this. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a man who can afford to pay the Reparations Tax, if that day ever comes.”
“It’s all bullshit, Clover. Every bit of it. The tax. The auction. This freaking punishment we’re forced to face because of what humans did two hundred years ago,” Beverly mutters.
“I don’t disagree with you, but it’s way bigger than us. We can’t change it,” I sigh. “I’m scared. I won’t deny that. But knowing my family will be taken care of after I’m gone helps. You and Abigail will have a future. A good one.”
“Except we won’t have our sister,” Beverly sniffles, abruptly hugging me. “How am I ever going to deal with Abigail without you around?”
“Is that what this is really about?” I ask, knowing there’s a lot more to it. “You’re just scared of being left all alone with Abigail?”
“It’s certainly a worry,” she says, squeezing me tight before finally letting go. “But if you’re not going to run, then we should go back inside. Don’t want the eggs getting cold.”
I fight the tears as we walk back inside. Breakfast is on the table. My mother does her best not to let any emotions show. My father does that naturally. Beverly forces a smile when she sits down. Abigail is happy, bouncing in her seat, eager for what is basically a feast for this family. The last meal we’ll share together as awholefamily.
We’ve tried to keep the uglier parts of my departure from impacting Abigail. Most everyone around here knows the song and dance. We’ve sung and danced it our whole lives in public.
Reparations are a good thing. We’re helping those less fortunate than us. It’s an honor to be able to provide a better life for your family.
I’ve heard that in Concord City, they have things like that on flashing billboards that look like enormous television screens. There’s only one television here and it’s at the mayor’s office, so he can keep up with what’s happening outside of Troona.
Places I’ve never seen, but I will soon. I’m going to see everything between here and Concord City. The city itself, which is supposed to be such a technological marvel that some of it will seem like magic to me. Then I’ll see anothercountry.
“I’d like to say something, before we leave for the train station,” my father says, putting his fork down, his plate scraped clean.
We aren’t making much noise, other than Abigail, but we all grow quiet, like we usually do, when our dad has something to say. I’m fighting back tears just in general right now, like they’re permanently trying to escape.
“Clover, it’s been an honor… being your dad,” he says, nodding to me, blinking away what could have been a tear, but it’s gone too quickly.
A man of few words, but they mean a lot, coming from him.
“You’ll always be my dad,” I whimper, unable to stop the tear from trickling down my cheek. “I’m not going to forget all of you after I’m gone. Who knows, maybe one day I’ll see you again.”
“I’ll come visit you as soon as I’m old enough!” Abigail chirps. “I bet you’ll even have babies by then! Mom and Dad will be grandparents! Wait, that means you’re really old now, right?” she ponders, looking at our mom and twitching her nose.
“I don’t have time to get old keeping up with you, little girl,” my mother sighs, blinking a few times before pushing her chair back. “I’ve got one more thing. A surprise.”
“A surprise? Mom, I don’t get to bring anything with me,” I say hesitantly.
“This one you can,” she laughs, opening the oven and removing a cake. “I got up early to make it so you wouldn’t know it was waiting for you.”
“Mom, I said no birthday party,” I groan. “Besides, my birthday was several days ago.”
“We’re not having a party, we’re just having cake,” my mother says, bringing it to the table and reaching for a knife. “For breakfast. Just like we used to.”
“You guys used to have birthday cake for breakfast?” Abigail asks, eyes widening like it’s the most amazing news she’s ever heard. “Why haven’t I ever gotten to do that!?”
“Today you do,” my mother says, smiling as she begins cutting the cake. “And maybe for the rest of your birthdays, too…” She trails off, nervously glancing at me and swallowing hard.
“Make sure she does,” I say, offering a nod of understanding.
