Field of Daisies

Chapter 12

I find myself trying to look busy with the history displays Arnold and Josephine are still at. I'm standing in front of one focused on the protests and the violence not caused by criminals, but by those who were supposed to stop the criminals. It details the corruption and hatred that plagued the streets. Of the ignorance for science and challenge to once praised figures. All things that eventually led to the Amelioration forming.

I'm rereading a paragraph about the Virus when an accented man beside me says, "That's a nice necklace you have there. Is it a daisy you wear?" Did he mean to rhyme?

I turn, trying to hide my feeling of unease. I should have taken it off. Does he know what my necklace means?

"Oh, thank you," I respond with a shaky voice. "It is a daisy." I hope this is the end of the conversation.

"How long have you been running from your Posting, Daisy?" I guess this conversation is not over. My eyes grow wide. Who is this surprisingly well-dressed man? He seems to read my thoughts. "They call me Amil. Come with me if you want my help, little Steward."

I don't know what to think, but I follow since I clearly don't have any secrets from him. He's not seizing me or making a scene, which leads me to believe he really is offering help. He makes it look like he's assisting me in going through my family records.

"Well, how long?" Amil asks impatiently.

I have to consider the question before recalling that he already asked me. "Only about a week," I tell him.

"Where were you located and with whom?" Amil is very straightforward, I don't know if I like it.

"Are you going to help me or arrest me?"

"Where were you located and with whom," he asks again, not hiding his impatience.

"New Haven. The Fitzwilliams." I reluctantly disclose.

"How long were you there?"

"Almost four and a half years." Longer than I was in high school. Now that seems ridiculous.

"Do you take your pills?" What is he getting at?

"No." I stick with being honest. "I stopped at the beginning of September when I got sick and haven't since." Except when I was forced to and couldn't spit them up before they started working, but I don't feel the need to mention that. I haven't willingly taken them since early September.

"What is your plan now? Does that boy know?" How long has he been watching me?

"I," Shoot. I don't know where I'm going after this. So much for planning ahead. "He knows, he hid me until we could come up here to try and find more information."

"He is with Phil; he may have a chance. Though your questions won't be answered here." What does that mean? "Listen carefully. I will only tell you this once. You are to find what is known to people like you as The Collective. Make your way up to a sweet slope, then continue a little farther north to a safeguard of nature that is both large and squat. Follow the trail a region is named for, and at a fork, follow the brook." He walks away.

I'm left standing alone, staring as Amil walks away. What an odd man. I quickly snap out of my trance and rush to find something to write this down on. Collective. Sweet slope. Safeguard. Large. Squat. Region. Brook. Collective. Sweet. Safe. Large. Squat. Region. Brook. I repeat under my breath until I find a souvenir pen at the front desk and run into the bathroom to write on my arm. But my arms are exposed without the sweatshirt. My leg will have to do. I close myself in a stall , unwrapping my right hand, and prop my foot on the toilet scribbling: Collective Sweet Safe Large Squat Region Brook. Trail and north I remember to add too. I rewrap my hand before exiting.