The Eradication Construct

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Next Week, Monday

My eyes open to the Monday morning sun – I'm late. There are probably children walking all through the gardens by now. I walk between the same piles as I return to the gardens for harvesting. I see children and their parents waiting for admission in a line that is almost half a mile long down the dirt road. I walk around to the line and between the trees they put in place as a restriction. They're all covered in poison ivy but I've learned how to get around it – long sleeves. I hurry, making my way through the vegetable and eventually back to the same disgustingly fragile strawberries and blackberries that were there before. I made eye contact with the Toddrick again, looking away as soon as he acknowledged me. He was the only reason I started coming early to harvest. Every time I see him there is a subtle chill that vibrates down my spine – even now, in early summer. The sun burns bright, hitting my skin aggressively, burning my already tan flesh. Little children run and play in the garden and it reminds me of how muted life is for them at that age. They don't know about the rebellion yet, they haven't learned about the declaration of the new age or even the stage of redemption we, as the people of The Americas, are in now. But they will never know; at least not for a while. Knife in hand, I cut crabapple branches off of the tree with my new knives, cutting the thickest branch to test them. This day feels calm – nothing like it was before. The younger children run with the others of their quarter; chasing each other with grape vines, threatening to hit them. I watch them, smiling at their innocence; knowing that after a while that will slowly deplete.

I look up from the children, stuffing the last of the crabapples in my satchel, to find Toddrick staring at me, again, from between the leaves of the Orange tree. I ignore him, cautiously holding tighter to my knife for assurance. I walked out of the rows and onto the dirt road as he continues to stare. I speed up and he begins to walk toward the road at a steady pace, never taking an eye off of me. This is all too similar to the last time I was here late. It was years ago, but the memory is still fresh in my mind. I could have been more than eleven; but one Monday afternoon I left later than I was supposed to – hoping to avoid interaction with people. There were teenager lounging about at the entrance – I knew the second they turned their heads and saw me I was going to be robbed. I walk around them, through the trees as usual to my harvest. I remember trying to harvest slowly, thinking they might get tired of waiting and walk away – I was wrong. I could feel them watching me even with my back turned. I wasn't afraid of him, just protective. That food should have to last all week for both me and my mother; I can't risk them taking it from me. I finish my harvest and I walk back through the trees, because they were over by the entrance, but they saw me coming and waited for me on the opposite side.

"Hey little girl," One of the teenagers says. "It might just be your lucky day. Cause I'm going to make a deal with you. You give us your food in exchange for your life." He explains. His friends in edged him on in the background, but he didn't pay them much mind. He was the tallest in the group and he look like the oldest as well, I don't see why he would pay them much attention anyway.

"No." I say.

"Well I see we have a brave little girl on our hands gentlemen." He pulled a small knife out of his pocket, holding it as if he were going to strike me with it – I knew he wasn't.

"It's mine." I justify.

He walks closer, trying harder to scare me with his knife; and honestly it was beginning to work.

"Give us the food or we take it."

"No." I repeat, but that didn't keep him and his friends from getting it from me. Two of his friends held me down as he got the food and ran. They ran too, by my short legs could only chase them so far.