MIA

Go for Growth

Heeding her words, I ran from the clearing until the crazed chants faded into the soundscape of birdsong and the gentlest of breezes. Mrs Haversham was sat on a brook on the outskirts of town, her dresses pooling around her waist as she crocheted idly. 

"Mrs Haversham?" I called, waving her over, "You waited?"

"I've been waiting for this moment for a lot longer than you have, love", she laughed, tucking the patchwork into her pinafore, "Imagine, one of my girls, fighting for the cause. Did they give you your first assignment?" Sighing, I took a seat to her left, the pulsating sun-rays, beating down on our fragile backs. 

"They didn't want me", I said, "I did everything, showed them your silk. Told them that I was ready to lay everything at their disposal and they acted like I brought the plague".

"Emilia, they were never going to treat you without skepticism. You could be anyone. If you decided to identify one of the woman or listen in on their conversations, they could fo nothing to stop you. They have to err on the side of caution".

"No, it was more than that", I replied, "It was like my presence insulted them. As though, the mere notion that I believed in something more was so implausible it had to be a ruse", I ran my hands over my frock, "they don't want women like me, Mrs Haversham". 

"Like you?" She repeated incredulously. "When you were five years old, you told me that you didn't want to join Evolution because it wasn't fair that some little girls experienced so much luxury whilst other received nothing at all".

"That doesn't matter to them", I said, "They want women who have lived a thousand lives and dodged as many bullets".

"They want women with the fire", Mrs Haversham amended, "There's a passion that links us all, a relentless belief in something more. That spirit lives in you". 

"I can't make them accept me, they'd discounted me before I even spoke".

"What about, Milia?'' Mrs Haversham said suddenly, her voice dropping several octaves, "You told me once that you would fight for her justice until your dying breath. Or does that not matter to you anymore?" With that question she was gone, stealing into her little corner shop, the brassy bell ringing in her wake.

It was a short walk to the Suburbs but with little to occupy the mind. Symmetrical houses whipped by, stacks of grey bricks made identical by the white picket fences that bordered their perimeters. This far from the Metropolitan, all of the houses lacked any outwards display of ostentation, everything was perfectly practical. The architecture might have been beautiful, was it not for the absence of everything besides the same monochromic colours. It was as though the whole village had been sloshed in greying dishwater. 

The pot-holed path toiled upwards past the fern trees, leading towards the hastily made house that perched on the outskirts of the town. It was a maisonette buried in the deep-set avenue, surrounded by a moat, that was flooded more often than not. The swamp lay in silent rest, all amphibious life and biodiversity that may have made a habitat in the calm waters had been exterminated a long time ago, their species reserved only for experiments and history books. From the altitude atop the hill,  the glass spirals of the Metropolitan eroded the horizon. Seemingly dripped in gold, all roads led to the Metropolitan, a tangible reminder of the dream that we were all supposed to hold.

Cadence sketched the skyline as she sat in the garden, her feet bare dangling as her eyes squinted in concentration, flicking her wrist gently as she outlined the form. She looked like some renaissance portrait, with her dark hair and bewitching eyes of the same hue. Catching sight of me, she hurried into my arms, smeared in oil paints and dust. a The simple dress she wore was torn across the skates, exposing the meshed tulle beneath.

"Look at yourself", I admonished softly, "We don't have any more credit for clothes, Cadence, you know that" 

"I just wanted to paint the Metropolitan", she murmured, returning to her perch. "If you find just the right angle, the image is pinpoint clear, you would think you were viewing it through a microscope", her eyes softened. No one could be mad at Cadence, her affinity for trouble seemed a bi-product of an inquisitive nature that no one could bear do scold. I was only two years her senior, but she'd always been younger than her years allowed. "Do you think they'll want me for Evolution, when I'm old enough?" She asked, pulling her windswept hair to the base of her neck, envisioning her future self. 

"Cadence, I think you're capable of so much more than just becoming someone's wife. You could be an artist or a teacher".

"Don't pollute your sister's head with your Equality nonsense", Mother hissed, "Allow me at least one daughter who has appropriate dreams and aspirations". 

"It's not nonsense", I replied harshly, "Cadence deserves to know that not everything has to be set in stone". 

"Lower your tone", mother snapped, casting her gaze to the dense woodland that was disrupted by the unblinking red lights scattered around the avenue, eager to record defamatory words. "Cadence, go into the house. That skirt of yours needs to be darned and I better not be able to see a single stitch". 

Mother waited, until she was safely seated by Pa's knee, focussed on her sewing. 

"Rowe, you're eighteen years old. You can't be running around, soiling your reputation with these girlish antics. What is your plan?"

"To go to work, mother. Like it has always been, I want to go into service".

"Emilia", she tried again, "An advantageous marriage could elevate us from the Suburbs. Give your sister the life she deserves. Cadence, bless her, is a simple girl and  her genetic composition is low. There's a reason she's yet to find any eligible suitors".

"Mother, don't be ridiculous - she's fifteen".

"Much younger than her has a happy bride been made. You didn't want to join Evolution, so we furnished the annexe for you. You didn't want to become a dressmaker so we taught you how to code. You're too old to be flailing around waiting for good fortune to hoist you afloat. Right now, you could have any man you want. A word of advice from your mother, don't lose all your beauty before you realise you need a man on your arm".