Jook's Refrain: A Silo Story

A Whisper of Hope - Silo 20

Samuel and Elias used their hoes to prop themselves, as they looked toward Jook. “I don’t hear anything, how about you Elias?” said Samuel. “Nothin’ but whispers from the mounds," said Elias. Their callous laughter evaporated as quickly as it had erupted with the sound of the gong for the shift change. “Come on Elias, if we don’t get to the tables now there’ll be nothing but growling stomachs for us tonight.”

Jook's father placed a gnarled hand on his shoulder. “This is how it started for your mother," he said, "she just couldn't stop with her foolish talk of a song, and hope, and a better life promised in the before time. I never knew what she meant by any of it, but I do know what talk about the before time and hope will get you."  The gong sounded again, and his father picked up his spade and turned to leave.

"What's that," Jook shouted above the noise of workers leaving the fields.

Nathan tuned to his son. "Trouble - nothing but trouble," he replied and then hurried away.

As he headed back to check the mounds, away from the noise of the labor gangs, Jook thought about the stories old ones told. It had been at least six generations since everything changed, but the legends lingered like condensation underneath the leaves of the tomato vines toward the end of each dimming time. Little children and those too old to do anything but clean behind the laborers never ran out of tales of the before time. For boys too young to work in the dirt farms, that mythical time represented adventure and an excitement they would never know, except in their dreams. The before time, however, meant nothing but shadowy nightmares for those soon to join the sleeping. Those who had lived long enough for the down below to take its toll.

"Daydreaming again," a familiar voice interrupted Jook's pondering.

He was so wrapped in his thoughts, he thought he has walked far from anyone. “Nia?” He whirled to confirm it was her. “How did you? When did you? What —” When no more words would come, he grabbed her hands, pulled her to him, and embraced her.

“Whoa, slow down there,” she laughed, “I’m here on borrowed time as it is.”

“Borrowed time? How did you get any time back in the down below at all?”

Nia’s brief smile faded. “I don’t know why they let me return. All I know is that the person processing me for … you know … on level 71, put me on the lift during the dimming time up there and instructed me to give you something to pass on to your father.”

“My father?” said Jook.

Nia nodded, “said he would understand when you gave it to him.”

“You must have heard wrong. He doesn’t understand anything but obeying the level boss and getting his next meal.”

Nia reached into her coveralls and handed Jook a thin book, devoid of any outer makings. He took the book, and opened it. The pages contained writing which neither Jook nor Nia could decipher since no-one in the down below could read. Such was strictly forbidden in the Pact. It was said those in the up-top who committed the ultimate breaches of the supreme law of the Silo could atone for their crime by something called the Cleaning. Supposedly, such offenders ascended to a mystical place beyond the Silo. There was no such hope for those in the down below.

“You gone to your special place again?” asked Nia.

Jook closed the book and sighed. “None of this makes sense: you being allowed to return, being sent back alone on the lift, handing me a book for my father. He wouldn’t know what to do with this if it meant not having to wield a spade again the rest of his life.”

The clamor of the shift change quieted as the light of waking time subsided to that of another dimming time. Jook looked in the direction of the lift. A level boss couldn’t be far behind the shift change and he instinctively knew Nia and that book meant worse than trouble if discovered. He shoved the book in his coveralls and motioned with his head toward a far corner of the fields. “Wait over there until I get this to my father and I’ll figure out somewhere to hide you.”

Nia shook her head. “No Jook. I have to get back. Whoever sent me down here said a level boss would not be down until half a cycle after dimming. He said he would get me back up top and give me a safe place there.”

“I can’t let you do that,” said Jook. “They’ll take you again and again, and you will never be the same. Each trip sucked the like out of my mother until she was dead on the inside long before the priest proclaimed her asleep forever.” He glanced again in the direction of the lift and added, “I’m sorry I was so hard on you. You would have made … you are a good shadow.”

Nia leaned over and kissed Jook on the cheek. “I know, just get that to your father. I’ll be safe up there.”

 “The man who sent me back down with that book,” said Nia, “he hears the Silo too. He said that’s what caused the first great uprising in the down below a long time ago. I know you two don’t get along but promise me you’ll give that to your father. Whatever went wrong before, I think that book holds the key to ensuring things happen differently this time.”

Before Jook could respond, Nia turned and ran through the tomatoes and carrots and mounds until her form merged with the shadows. He hurried to join those eating at the long tables at the end of the fields. A few workers still labored with their hoes and spades, apparently serving some punishment that required working beyond the long laborious hours of the others. As he passed them, he asked, “Has anyone seen Nathan?” No one answered, probably fearful of a level boss that had yet to appear. He started to hurry on by in search of his father but paused. These men were doing extra duty yet none looked down trodden. Sweat laced their brows, one even momentarily staggered under the weight of his spade, yet something was different about them. As their fellow workers hurriedly ate at the tables, grumbled about the day, and stared ahead in grim resignation, these men swung their tools as though the work almost brought satisfaction.

Thoughts of Nia, the book, and his father prompted Jook to move on. As he walked away from the line of workers, a sound followed him. Only as he neared the table, did Jook realize what the sound was. The weary, though determined laborers hummed the sound of the Silo. They sang their wordless song in unison and each swing of a hoe marked time to their cadence. Just as he started to ask the men where they had heard that sound, Jook caught sight of Nathan’s balding head among those at the tables. Talking to his father was the last thing he wanted to do but the book rubbing against his skin reminded him of his promise to Nia.

The sounds of the men singing in the field faded to be replaced by the noise of those at the tables. Jook spotted his father again, shoved his way through those standing in line and sat beside Nathan. “We need to talk,” he said.

“Okay, so talk,” said Nathan.

Jook shook his head. “Not here. When the shift finishes eating, meet me in the lift well.”

“Spending so much of your dimming time among the mounds my son has done something to your head. Why should I draw attention to myself by lurking in the shadows right where the level boss is sure to notice me?”

His father’s response reminded Jook he didn’t just hate the constant racket of the Silo. He despised how little anyone seemed to care about his mother’s death, including the one who should miss her most, her husband. “Look father,” said Jook. “I’m only talking to you because Nia made me promise I would give you something,”

Nathan looked around as though a level boss had overheard mention of Nia. “She’s gone son. Everyone has heard the news.”

Jook shook his head, “Yes, she’s gone for now but she gave something to me she said you needed to see. Something she said you would understand, though I think you know little besides your own stubborn pride.”

“And what could a girl have left for me that is so important?”

“Just meet me near the lift well and you can determine that for yourself. Something is happening in the Down Below – something that Nia believes will change everything.”

Jook rose and hurried away from his father and the tables. Unlike before, the Silo was silent. All he could hear was the same pounding in his head that always came after talking with his father. Once alone, he pulled out the book and ran his fingers across the strange markings on its nearly translucent pages. He had never seen such perfectly fine paper before. He could still remember the one time he had accidentally seen such paper. A level boss had accidentally dropped the pages from his pocket and then quickly scooped them up. What could he have feared a young boy discovering? What power did those markings hold? Why had his father beaten him for simply asking what they meant?