Calypso Initiate

Chapter Two

        When we enter the dining hall, it is swarmed with children. Young faces glimmer with a carefree vibrancy that I envy, their feet thundering across the concrete. Squeals and laughter cling in the air as they circle a table, barricading it with chairs from other the group on the opposing end of the room.

         “Protect our leader!” a boy yells.

        They’re playing a make-believe version of Territory Wars, a game all societies in Calypso must participate in every year. Victors get the biggest territory in the city. But it’s mostly the elite societies that triumph these games; those equipped with all the resources to conquer weaker groups. The rest are ranked based on their scores: the lower the ranking, the smaller the territory. We are part of the lower ranks.

        They say the game is envisioned to strengthen the unity of the colonists, to encourage them to work together as a team, or at least that’s what they tell us on the clips they show every year before the games begin. But it has brought a rift between societies. I heard back then there weren’t any high walls keeping us apart. 

      Ophelia’s younger sister, Elsa, waves at us as we make our way to the kitchen. She races around a table, pigtails bouncing on her shoulders as she inspects their fort. When she’s satisfied, she goes over to her older brother Ivan, who is busy laying tablecloths.

        “Oppa, we need more soldiers!” she pleads, tugging his shirt. “You need to help us protect our territory.”

        Ivan and Elsa share the same frail figure, both born with weak health unlike their older sister. In a few months Ivan will be turning sixteen too, but he’s shorter than most of the boys his age. Next year, it’ll be his turn to take the finals and leave his family, but Elsa has a few more years left with their parents.

        I watch Ophelia from the corner of my eye. She wipes a sleeve on her face, her eyes glossed with moisture, and my heart sinks. As we near our finals, time with our families feels as though it’s being wrenched from our fingers. Ophelia loves her siblings and she would do anything for them. It must be hard for her to be the first to leave her family. It was easier for me when Benjamin left for Initiations. I’m still with our parents. But my brother is alone to fend for himself, forbidden to contact any of us until Initiation ends. I wonder how he’s doing.

        The scent of butter and cooked meat bursts out the door as we enter the kitchen. Ceramics and tableware make clinking noises as they are moved around the room, mixing with the sizzle of oil on frying pans and knives rapping on chopping boards. I catch a whiff of bread baking in the oven as we approach my mother. The smell is pure heaven.

        My mother, now out of her hunting gear, busies herself cutting vegetables and occasionally checks a pot of stew on the stove.  I notice how focused she is when she cooks as if no one else is in the room. Tonight, her chosen attire is a plain brown dress that hides her slim build. It’s impractical to wear dresses in Calypso unless there’s a celebration, but my mother takes pride in wearing them. She says it reminds her of who she is, whatever that means.

         “Prudence! Ophelia!” I hear someone call and my mother finally looks up and sees us. Cindy, a girl only a year younger than us waves from across the room. Her blonde curls pull on top of her head into a messy bun. “I need help with the sauce.”

        I try to smile at her but I can’t. I don’t like hearing my name. People are supposed to like their names but for some reason mine never felt like my own. My mother once told me that when I was born, she wanted to name me Hannah. But our government is responsible for naming newborns so I was named Prudence instead.