Three Converts

Part 1

Three.

It sounds like a small number. One sounds even smaller. But as I walk home after another day of rejection and failure, one seems as big as the mountains into which I'm walking.

I only had one more person to go before my twentieth birthday next month. A month seems as long as one seems small, but I had zero prospects. Sophie had all her converts and she was only seventeen. No surprise, she's one thousand times more charming than I. I'd love to hate her for her over-achievement, but she's so darn encouraging, it's impossible. She regales me with apocryphal stories of nineteen-year-olds, who made their final convert the night before their birthday, of colony members who went years without a conversion, then in one week nailed down all three.

**

My sister meets me at the edge of the path like she does every day. I love and hate seeing her there. She waves and sprints the rest of the way to meet me, then turns from enthusiastic to cautious. "Sooooo.... How was your day?"

I turn my thumbs down at her. She nods, but I see disappointment flicker across her face. It's the worst part of my day, every day- disappointing Sophie.

"Well. You still have plenty of time!" I look slantwise at her because she's an awful liar.

"I wish you could just come with me!" I whine. "You're so good at this, and I'm so, so bad!"

"Not true! You got those first two converts, didn't you? If you converted two people, you can get one more for sure."

That sounded like good logic, but my first two converts were just good luck. I reflected on my first convert, when I was thirteen and still had energy and hope. When I bounced into town. Truthfully, Herb may still have been drunk from the previous night when I found him on the sidewalk outside the bar. I gave him water (the only physical thing we're allowed to offer) and suggested next steps for him. He was confused and needed guidance. When I gave him my pitch, he accepted with little hesitation because he had very few options. Nonetheless, he counted as my first convert and I presented him proudly to the council. I still run into him quite frequently. He turned out to be a skilled bread maker and when I pick up my family's loaf, he always gives me one fresh out of the oven.

I got a little cocky after Herb, thinking my next two converts would be just as easy. And the next one was! Only six months later, a young woman chased me down the street. "Please!" she panted, "I want to convert." Talk about simple. That almost never ever happens. When it does, it's usually because of love, which was the case with Margarite. The man she was in love with converted the previous week. "I thought I could live without him, but I can't!" she cried to me. I hugged her tightly and spoke with her, explaining how Diety loved her and this would please him so. "I don't care about Diety! I only want Mario!" It wasn't an ideal convert, but nonetheless, she counted as my second when I took her to the council.

That was five years, three months, and six days ago. My parents eyed me when I got home, but didn't say anything. They didn't have to. Mom stroked my hair and gave me a plate of food. Many parents on the mountain don't get attached to their kids in case they fail to achieve three converts and get kicked out of the colony when they turn twenty (like I was in danger of), but my parents didn't hold that philosophy. They loved Sophie and I blatantly and deeply. I wasn't just disappointing Sophie, I was breaking their hearts too. Tomorrow I would try harder, I vowed. I would be more charming, more smiley, more persuasive.

"The fair starts tomorrow," my dad said, a chipper spring in his words.

"Oo! Think of all that fresh meat coming to town, just waiting for you to bring them to Diety, Luce!"

I forced a smile. Honestly, I was exhausted. I didn't want to dredge down the mountain one more time, I didn't care to face the insults and ridicule from the townspeople another day, I shuddered at the idea of giving my pitch, and being rejected even one more time, let alone a thousand.

"What did you do today?" I was desperate to change the subject. Sophie took the question and ran with it, rattling off the day's events at school. I let my mind drift, and the next thing I knew dinner was over. I stood to help clean up.

"Go relax, Lucy. You look tired, sweetheart." My mom pressed her palm to my cheek, then pushed me toward my bedroom. I was tired, but it didn't mean I'd be able to sleep. I hadn't slept properly since last year when Misty left the mountain. Laying in bed with wet eyes I wondered where she was now.

In the same way parents try not to let themselves fully love their children, we children are wary of friendship. We're friendly, of course, but we know to keep a safe emotional distance from one another until after we achieve our three converts. But Misty and I couldn't help our friendship anymore than the water couldn't help falling down the mountainside every spring. She was fun and funny and life was so light with her around. She would never reveal her birthday to me, so I didn't even know I should be stressing out that she only had two converts. Misty herself never seemed stressed, so I thought she had time still. Then, one day she was gone.