𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐧

Chapter 12: Alan

We hardly ever visited the Community Centre. Yet Violet and I stood outside it, waiting for someone to greet us.

My sister had suggested that we go there to find out some news. The people of the West Quarter attended these meetings once in a while, to catch up or share gossip. These meetups weren't mandatory, which was why we never attended them, but we decided to attend for once. Social interactions were usually dangerous, but we needed to know what was going on these days.

A Guard came to the door. "Greetings, young children." I bristled. I was seventeen and I was being called a child. Now you know what it's like to be called a child, Violet projected into my mind. I rolled my eyes at her.

We walked in together, hand in hand. A few people inside stared at us disapprovingly. Of course. Since we were holding hands, we looked like we were Partners. It was an unspoken rule that you couldn't have a Partner unless you were both above fifteen and Violet looked too young. Families shied away from us as if we were evil people and I cringed. I let go of Violet's hand.

A man walked up to us. "How are you today, children?" There it was again. We were being called children.

But I just put on a fake smile and Violet promptly followed. "We're good. And your name is...?"

"Oh, I apologise for my rudeness," the man replied.

He seems so posh, Violet said in my mind. I'm guessing he's from the Upper Quarter.

The man confirmed Violet's suspicions. How she managed to guess everything, I'd probably never know. It was probably because of her special powers. "I'm Chief Petrov. I don't usually attend these Community meetings in the West Quarter, but today I would like to brief everyone on some current pressing matters that concern both of the respective Quarters."

Chief Petrov clicked his polished heels together and led us over to a meeting hall, where many people were already seated in neatly organised rows. An empty stage stood at the front.

My sister and I chose some seats at the back, while watching the people in front of us. I was a bit reluctant to be in such an enclosed space, especially with a Virus raging around. I fiddled with my mask to make sure that it covered my nose and I tried not to breathe too hard. However risky it was, I knew that these meetings could be where we find out the latest news. We'd do nothing by staying at home.

Violet stood up and started walking towards a family that was seated two rows in front of us. I almost held out an arm to stop her, but then I remembered that she was more socially intelligent than I was. Usually. It's alright, she projected. I can handle this.

I watched quietly as she greeted the father of the family. As I was her brother, I could tell that she had put on her sweet face for the family. She waved at the three small children and they cooed at her. Such a perfect representation of a good girl.

I was struggling to make out what she was saying to them. They had a conversation for a few minutes and her expression started becoming increasingly serious. As I leaned forward, I managed to hear the man say, "And last week, there was someone--"

A boy that was probably still in beginner school jumped in front of me, interrupting my train of thought. I sighed inwardly. I thought that what the man was saying could have been important.

My attention turned to the boy. Even though I was sitting down on a chair, I still towered over him. His parents stood behind him, watching our interaction. "Hello! My name is Squeak." The boy said loudly. "We don't usually get new people here, so it's rather exciting to see you! Can I be your friend?" His loud voice and childishness attracted a few stares and sniggers from strangers. I cringed and took a step back.

As embarrassing as it was to befriend a ten year old kid, I had to say yes. His parents were watching and I had to be a good kid in front of strangers. There was also the pressure of strangers that were watching. They were probably wondering, is this kid as nice as his sister?

I swallowed all of my pride and held a hand out to Squeak. I cleared my throat. "A pleasure to meet you. My name's Alan," I said in my most manly voice. I nodded in respect at his parents, who nodded back at me. I noticed that they took in my clothes, which were shabby in comparison to Squeak's.

"You're such a fine gentleman," Squeak's father said. "Where did you grow up?"

They'd probably thought that I was a hybrid kid, from both the suburbs. Hence my great manners and shabby clothing. "I'm from one of the local suburbs," I answered, wanting to surprise them. "Right here in the West Quarter."

Squeak's mother gasped in shock, placing a hand to her heart. I couldn't tell if there was a hint of sarcasm. "Really, you are such a polished young man. And you are...?"

"Seventeen," I replied promptly. I'd think that it was quite obvious that I was older than Squeak. I decided not to express my offence.

Squeak's father nodded, impressed. "You show a lot of potential for someone your age. What do you think you'll be doing soon, Alan? You're almost old enough to get a Contract with an Employer."

I hadn't thought about it for a while. When I was younger, back in school, I'd wanted to be a member of the Police. I found it cool that they protected the West Quarter. But that dream had quickly faded when the War started. Bombs flying down from the sky, taking lives where it could. Our family had survived the worst of the War just fine, but our fine house was one of the many that were destroyed. It didn't survive the bombs, along with our most precious tokens.

We'd had to start a new life, in a brand new suburb. All we had were the clothes on our backs and our backpacks that we had managed to grab. With our house, my dreams vanished. Our family couldn't even afford to buy excessive food, let alone a whole course of advanced Police training.

The question of my future brought me back to the present. If I were to have a job, I'd have to pick one that wasn't costly. I'd pick one that I'd enjoy. "I want to be an artist," I said.

As I'd expected, both of Squeak's parents showed their surprise. "An artist, you say?"

I was ready for their shock. Artists didn't earn a lot of money, especially if they were doing art without an Employer. Nowadays, it wasn't even considered a proper job. Employers were also very hard to find, especially ones that were willing to pay you enough for you to make a living off your job. Upper Quarter artists earned enough to live an acceptable life, but it wasn't like I could just get a job there.

"Yes, I do want to be an artist," I said, as earnestly as possible. "My hobby is drawing."

Squeak spoke up again. His voice bore a similarity to a squeak. How ironic. "Ooh, that's cool! I want to be an artist too."

I definitely caught a scolding glance that passed from Squeak's mother to her child. "An artist? What about a member of the Police? That's what you wanted." She glared at me and I cringed at that.

Squeak made a face at his mother, oblivious of the implications. "No. I want to be an artist."

A shout from the front of the room saved me from further embarrassment. Chief Petrov had arrived at the makeshift stage, his charming smile on.

Violet quickly finished her conversation with the family and hurried over to our seats. I'll tell you what I found out from that family later.

The members of the audience quietened, noticing that the Chief had arrived. He had quite a large presence and before he had even uttered a word, people were leaning in to what he was about to say. You could hear a pin drop.

Chief Petrov cleared his throat. "Welcome, citizens of the West--"

The lights went out.