Turning Eighteen
So sure, when the clock struck midnight and it was official, she’d think of Mo. And yes, okay, she’d want to go to her, hug her. Not to make empty promises, but to show Mo that she understood that, for them, it was the beginning of the end and hardly something to celebrate. But she wouldn’t. It would hurt not to, but she couldn’t. Even though it may not feel like it, tonight was something to celebrate. She had a Chosen! Someone the Chosen Council had selected for her. Someone she’d love and have daughters with and grow old with. Someone who would not only please her, but please the Way. And someone more suited to her than Mo. Hard to believe, considering how deeply she felt for Mo, but the Chosen Council had the entire planet to choose from and didn’t make mistakes.
It did not make mistakes.
Mo let go of Les and applauded the band. The musicians bowed, set down their instruments, and left the stage. Seeing Alan, Adelaide, and Karen bound up the steps, Mo nudged Lesley’s arm. “Les, you better go,” she said as Adelaide scanned the crowd. “It’s two minutes to midnight. They’re looking for you.”
Les touched Mo’s cheek, then turned away. Mo’s stomach churned as she watched Les make her way to her family. They’d only managed two dances together. Les, the guest of honour, had dutifully danced with everyone who’d asked—all Solitaries or those not Joined, of course. Three times, Mo had been on her way to suggest they dance, only to see someone else get to Les first.
She’d resigned herself to standing on the sidelines while Les danced with others, but then Les had sought her out at about ten-thirty. “I don’t know if we’ll have another chance to dance before midnight,” she’d said. Mo had assumed they wouldn’t, so she’d been surprised when Les had tapped her on the shoulder at seven minutes to midnight and extended her hand. She didn’t know whether to read anything into it. Had Les wanted them to have the last dance before midnight? Had it been her way of saying good-bye? Had she meant to signal that tonight wouldn’t change anything, at least in the near future? Or had it been happenstance, in that she’d suddenly found herself without a dance partner?
“I guess it’s time for the big moment,” Mama said behind her. Mo glanced over her shoulder. Papa and her older siblings were there, too. “Adelaide must be pleased,” Mama continued. “She was hoping—”
Applause drowned her out. Les had made it onto the stage. Mo started to clap, not wanting to look surly. She could hardly believe it: Les up on that stage, a Chosen. She’d grown up with the Chosen Tradition, been surrounded by it from the moment she was born. But it had never felt as real as it did tonight.
Alan raised his hand to quiet everyone and gazed at his comm unit, waiting for the right moment to begin the countdown. If Les had been a Solitary, they would have thanked everyone for coming and the dancing would have resumed. But she wasn’t.
“Ten, nine, eight,” Alan started. Everyone joined in, their voices growing louder with each second. “Two, one . . .”
The room exploded into another round of applause. Mo joined in, feeling insincere and self-conscious. Was everyone looking at her? Because they all knew what it meant, and they knew she did, too. Well, let them cluck their tongues in sympathy. She’d hold her head up and show them how strong in the Way she was.
Suddenly Mama’s arm was around her shoulders. Mo leaned into her, grateful. It was a good thing Andrew and Nathan were at the Indoctrination Academy, or they’d probably be laughing at her right now.
Les embraced each of her parents and then hugged Karen. The four Thompsons waited for the applause to die down. Then Adelaide stepped up to the microphone. “So, you’re a Chosen,” she said to Les, smiling broadly.
More applause. Mama’s arm left Mo’s shoulders. Mo didn’t know how much more she could take. She focused on Les, but couldn’t tell if Les was happy, embarrassed—what?
Adelaide moved aside; Les took her place. Mo inwardly cringed. Les would do exactly what was expected of her. She’d beam at everyone and babble on about how wonderful it was to be a Chosen and how much she looked forward to receiving her Chosen Papers. Mo wanted to bury her face in Mama’s shoulder and cover her ears. But that would be cowardly. She’d continue to hold her head high. Anyone who glanced her way would see her looking directly at Les, not clinging to Mama for support.
“Yes, I’m a Chosen,” Les began.
Mo felt for Mama’s hand and hung onto it. A little covert support wouldn’t hurt.
“As the Song of Rymel says, ‘We are Rymellan and always shall be. We are one, Chosen and Solitary.’”
Okay, this was different.
“It wouldn’t have mattered if I had turned out to be a Solitary. All that matters is that we serve the Way. And I have never had a greater appreciation of what it means to serve the Way than I do right now.”
Much to her amazement, Mo agreed with everything Les was saying.
“As all Rymellans do, I trust the Chosen Council. I know the Chosen Council has selected the best woman for me, for my family, for all of us.”
Mo tightened her grip on Mama’s hand. Here it comes.
“And as all Rymellans do, I will embrace my Chosen, Join with her, and serve the Way.” Les paused. “I won’t hold up the dancing any longer,” she said, to Mo’s surprise. “Thank you very much for coming and celebrating my eighteenth with me. Let’s say the Words Every Rymellan Knows.”
Still holding Mama’s hand, Mo reached for Neil’s. She was slightly bewildered; Les hadn’t gone on and on about how wonderful her Chosen must be and how much she looked forward to meeting her. That suited Mo just fine, but what would others think about Les’s atypical eighteenth speech?
Les, having formed a circle with her parents and Karen, waited until a few in the room had finished clearing their throats, then nodded. “Disobedience means death. Death to those who commit a Chosen Violation. Death to those who disobey. Death to those who violate the Way. Death to those who violate the Way. Death to those who violate the Way!” Everyone let go of their neighbours’ hands and clapped.
The band was waiting to take the stage again. Les followed her family down the steps only to be swallowed in a crowd of well-wishers. Mo craned her neck to see her as the musicians settled into their places on the stage and picked up their instruments.
“We should dance,” Papa said to Mama when the band immediately launched into the next piece.
“Will you be all right?” Mama asked Mo.
Mo nodded. “I’ll get a drink or something.” Mary and Matthew brushed by her, on their way to the dance floor, she presumed.
“I’ll go with you,” Neil said.
Apparently satisfied that Mo wouldn’t dissolve into tears and that Neil would take care of her if she did, Mama accepted Papa’s arm. They disappeared into the crowd.
Neil eyed her sympathetically. “If it helps, I felt the same way at Catherine’s eighteenth.”
It didn’t, but she loved him for saying it. “Whatever happened to her?” she asked as they manoeuvred toward one of the refreshment tables. “When I entered the Indoctrination Academy for my Level Three, you two were inseparable. By the time I left, it was as if she’d never existed.”
“She was going to college and I wasn’t. Since we’d be living sectors apart, we decided it was a good time to end our relationship.”