Among the Hidden

The jagged edge didn't cut immediately, so she held the screen with her right hand and raked it across her left. When Jen pulled her hand back, Luke saw a gash even deeper than his. Jen squeezed out a few drops of blood and let them fall to the carpet.

'There,' she said.

Stunned, Luke backed out the door.

'Come back soon, farmer boy,' Jen said.

Luke turned and ran, blindly, not even slowing down to creep alongside the barn. He went straight to the back door of his house, yanked it open, and let it bang shut behind him.

Now, sitting at supper, he felt his heart pounding again as he thought of how dangerous that had been. Why hadn't he looked first? Why hadn't he crawled? He poked his fork into his potatoes, now gone cold and congealed. He watched Mother gathering up dirty dishes while Dad, Matthew, and Mark leaned back in their chairs, talking of grain yields. Jen had scared him-that was why. Seeing her cut her hand had terrified him. How could she do something like that for him, when they'd just met?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Luke spent practically every second of the next three days either reliving his secret visit to Jen or planning another one. The first day, a Government inspector came out to examine the Garners' crop, so Luke stayed in his room the entire day. The second day it rained, and Dad spent the morning doing book work in the house. The third day, Dad was back in the fields, but when Luke crept over to the back door promptly at 9 A.M. and daringly flipped the light switch, he got no answering flash from Jen's house. Maybe the clocks in her house were slow. He left the light on for fifteen whole minutes, terrified the whole time that someone besides Jen might see it. Finally, heartsick, he switched it off and climbed with shaky legs back to his room.

What if something had happened to Jen? What if she were sick-dying, even-alone in her house? What if she'd been caught or turned in? Just from the little time Luke had spent with her, he could tell: She took a lot of risks.

It never had occurred to him that knowing another person would give him someone else to worry about.

He steadied himself by leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs and reminded himself of less frightening possibilities: Maybe one of her parents was just out running errands, not working, so they were going to be home soon. Maybe… he tried to think of another safe reason Jen hadn't signaled for him to come. But he had so much trouble picturing her ordinary life that his imagination failed him.

He found out the next day, when he risked a dash to Jen's house as soon as Jen answered his signal.

'Where were you?' he asked instantly.

'When? Yesterday?' She yawned, sliding the door shut behind him. 'Did you try to come over? I'm sorry. Mom had a free day and made me go shopping.'

Luke gaped at her. 'Shopping? You went out?'

Jen nodded nonchalantly.

'But I didn't see you leave-' Luke protested.

Jen looked at him as if she seriously wondered if he had a brain. 'Of course not. I was hiding. The backseat of our car is hollowed out-Dad had it custom-built.'

'You went out-' Luke repeated in awe.

'Well, it's not like I saw anything until we got to the mall. Two hours of riding in the dark is not my idea of fun. I hate it.'

'But at the mall-you got out? You didn't have to hide?'

Jen laughed at his amazement.

'Mom got me a forged shopping pass a long time ago. Supposedly, I'm her niece. It's good enough to convince store clerks, but if the Population Police ever found me in a roadside stop, I'd be dead. There you have it: my mother's priorities. Shopping is more important than my life.'

Luke shook his head and sat down on the couch because his knees were feeling a little shaky.

'I didn't know,' he said. 'I didn't know thirds could do that.'

What if Mother and Dad got him a forged pass? For a minute he could almost picture it-they could hide him under burlap bags in the pickup truck bed until they got into town.

Everybody in town knew Mother and Dad. Everybody knew Mother and Dad had only two sons. Matthew and Mark.

'You went to the city,' he said.

'Well, yeah,' Jen said. 'You don't see any malls around here, do you?'

'What was it like?' Luke almost whispered.

'Boring,' Jen said. 'Really, really boring. Mom wanted to buy me a dress-who knows why-so we went to one store after another, and I had to try on all these dresses that scratched and pricked and poked me. And then she made me get a bunch of bras-oh, sorry,' she said when Luke blushed a deep red. 'I guess you don't talk much about bras at your house.'

'Matthew and Mark do, sometimes, when they're being… dirty,' Luke said.

'Well, bras aren't dirty,' Jen said. 'They're just torture devices invented by men or mothers or something.'

'Oh,' Luke said, looking down.

'But, anyway,' Jen said, with a bounce that propelled her off the couch. 'I checked you out on the computer and you're all right, you don't exist. Not officially, anyway. So you're safe. And-'

Hearing Jen say that so flippantly-you don't exist- made Luke feel funny.

'How do you know I'm safe?' he interrupted.

'Fingerprints,' Jen said. When Luke gave her a blank look, she explained. 'My brother Brawn went through this phase where he wanted to be a detective-not that he ever would have been smart enough for it-and I remembered he still has a fingerprinting kit. So I dusted for your fingerprints on things you touched, just like on TV. I got a really good print off the wall. Then I scanned that into the computer, linked into the national file of fingerprints and, voila, I discovered your fingerprints don't exist, so neither do you. Officially.'

She made a mocking face for emphasis. Luke wanted to ask, The Population Police can't find me because of what you did, can they? But he understood so little of what she'd explained that he didn't think it would help to ask anything. And Jen was already onto the next thought.

'And, anyhow, you seem trustworthy. So-o-o, now that I know you're safe, I can tell you about the rally and show you our secret chat rooms and everything-'

Jen was already leaving the room, so he had to follow just to hear the rest of her sentence.

'Want something to eat or drink?' she asked, hesitating at the doorway to the grand kitchen. 'I was so surprised, I forgot to be a good hostess the last time. What'll it be? Soda? Potato chips?'

'But those are illegal,' Luke protested. He remembered reading something about junk food in one of the books in the attic and asking his mother about it. She'd explained that it was something people used to eat all the time, until the Government shut down the factories that made it She wouldn't tell him why. But, as a special treat, she'd brought out a bag of potato chips she'd been saving for years and shared them, just with him. They were salty, but hard to chew. Luke had pretended to like them only because Mother seemed to want him to.

'Yeah, well, we're illegal, too, so why shouldn't we enjoy ourselves?' Jen asked, thrusting a bowl of chips at him. To be polite, Luke took one chip. And then another. And another. These potato chips were so good, he had to hold himself back from grabbing them by the handful. Jen stared at him.

'Do you go hungry sometimes?' she asked in a low voice.

'No,' Luke said in surprise.

'Some shadow children do because they don't have food ration cards, and the rest of their family doesn't share,' she said, opening a refrigerator that was bigger than every appliance in the Garners' kitchen put together. 'My family can get all the food we want, of course, but'-she looked at him in a way that once again made him conscious of his ragged clothes-'How does your family get food for you?'

The question puzzled Luke.