The week flew by in what seemed like only days. The last few months had been the same. Saturday is usually a welcomed day for me, but this week it won't be. Nothing would be the same. After this weekend, they would both be gone forever.
“Karine, what year was the Great Law enacted?” The class responded with a low rumbling moan of disgust. Tingly, pricks of ice crawled up my neck as I realized the teacher was speaking to me. “We have fifteen minutes left people,” she bellowed. “The quarter-end test is quickly approaching.” Mrs. Green clapped her hands together and turned the full force of her ample frame towards me. With her highbrow stare firmly seated, she stared, waiting for my answer.
“2076, Mrs. Green.” I knew this. We were off school last Monday to celebrate 2076 day.
“Very good, Karine.”
“Difference, what was the comet's name that set the moon off its normal rotation starting the Water Wars of 2076?” she asked.
“Hillary?” Difference questioned. “Harmony?” he offered shyly.
Diff is not the brightest boy in my class, but he's a bio third like me. Every third in the room looked stupid because of his shortfalls. Arguably he is quite easy to look at, but I didn't get the impression he puts any effort towards studying.
Mrs. Green wrinkled her forehead in disapproval. “The comet's name was Helena. It was named for Mount Saint Helena. The ancient volcano in the area referred to as the Greater Pacific territory. Now then, Aqua, please tell me the year the religion cessation act went into effect and its purpose.”
“The RCA took effect immediately after the first space elevator was destroyed by terrorist attacks in 2101. The law's purpose was to eliminate radical religious groups and keep extremists of every race, creed, and religion from destroying humanity’s progress towards expanded space exploration.”
“Very well spoken, Aqua. I encourage all of you to memorize the years of enactment and the general purpose of the fifteen Great Laws of Unity. Study your text and make your flashcards. I cannot stress how important writing down a question followed by the answer can be.” Mrs. Green pounded her fist of red manicured nails on the thick resin podium in front of her as she spoke each word with increasing volume.
The corner of my right eye began to twitch as the word flashcard tumbled through my brain. I would rather stand in the full sun without my day gear than write one more life-sucking flashcard. Bloody solar exposure burns are a gruesome sight. I shook the image out of my head before the sloppy gore from the Saturday morning public service announcement cartoons solidified in my brain. The catchy tune about sun exposure scared the crap out of me as a child. Cover and conceal or cremate—the three C's of sun protection.
“Announcements. Quickly people, focus. We have several minutes left in our day still. Tomorrow night there will be a life celebration ceremony. Karine's grandparents, Constance and Edgar Moon, will be leaving the community after their family's celebration providing the gift of resources to us all.
Monday, the traditional white cake of peace will be served at first break. You may bring candies or small tokens to donate to our school community room as we take a moment to acknowledge the Moon family's sacrifice.”
Resource. What an ugly, crap-crusted word. To some, resource means water and food. Others hear it and think of capital or personal treasures. To me, resource is the bodies of my family members hitting the evaporator chamber.
At sixty, my grandmother started planning her life celebration. She took me with her to several ceremonies. I was seven the first time, but I can still remember how much I liked the white frosted cakes and the frilly party dresses. Of course, I didn't understand what the event meant to the family of the soon to be departed. I've attended many celebrations since, but I never considered how the families felt until now.
I'm sure the family felt sad and proud. Mostly sad, but the tradition of the older generation giving up their lives so the younger generations could live sounded beautiful to me. At least it did until my grandparents began planning to surrender theirs. Many people argue the tradition is outdated, but our older generations still believe the life ceremonies serve a purpose.
The first bell rang, dragging me out of my pity and propelling me towards the equipment lounge. Some of my classmates could jump into their day suits in thirty seconds, but it always took me much longer.
I hate the way day suits smell—burnt plastic and metallic fabric, copper wire, and sun-charred machine parts aren't organic. We weren't meant to live out our days hiding in a damn mechanical suit. I want lace and soft fabrics like the new plastics. They are bright and crisp and smell like chocolate cream or cinnamon spice. I can't wait for winter so I can ask for a dark brown, chocolate scented jacket.
“Can you move any slower, Karine?” Difference stomped closer to me, already contained in his day suit with his hands on his hips—disappointment contorting his innocent face. Recently, he let his light blond hair grow out, leaving him with a mop of natural curls. I could still see the timid little boy I met in preschool hidden behind his light gray eyes.
“I'm sure I could if I tried. You have no room to poke fun, Hillary? Really?” I scoffed.
“They both start with an H. Don't tell me you don't mix them up too.”
“I don't, because I study.” I countered smugly.
“You're a ‘B’ student just like me, so don't give me any crap about studying. Come here and let me bolt your suit girl. You would be sun fried by now if this were an emergency.” Diff took the opportunity to laugh openly at my shortcomings.
This is one of the many reasons I don't like public grades. The
