at the next table over—four boys—stopped talking to listen, and for a moment she thought she might not have to work to get the room to quiet. But then conversations started back, so she began a song, letting her voice rise until it filled common. She sang just the first few stanzas, enough for most of the room to start singing with her. Then she trailed off, waited. She was still on the table, and all of the faces were looking at her.
“I’m glad you’re here. Glad you’re like me and you don’t want to be gray forever.” She touched her looped strand of blue and silver beads. “Glad you want to have the choice to wear uniforms that are this color, too. Glad you want to help me convince the reds and blues that we can all wear each other’s colors, that naked, we’re all the same.”
She hadn’t thought about saying that, it had just come out, the way a homemade song did. It sounded a little stupid, simple. Soft. But it was out. Best keep going. She pointed to Owl Paulie, waited for the room to quiet down. “You all know Owl Paulie. He has something he wants to say.”
They came in closer with no protest, and she used the time to count them. Thirty-one, plus Kyle and Owl Paulie. They scooted together on benches, some of the girls squirming on boys’ laps to make room for more.
Kyle stood outside the circle.
Owl Paulie watched the students settle, his large blue-on-pale-brown eyes suggestive of his name, his hands shaking a bit in his lap. Ruby stood beside him, Onor and Marcelle by her, Hugh on his other side. For a moment Ruby wondered if he was really going to say anything at all, then his chest rose and his nostrils flared. “I came to you because I’m old enough to remember things others don’t want you to know.”
As he stopped for breath, the students glanced at each other, a mix of excitement and confusion.
“We were not born inside this ship. Each of us , yes, but not humans.”
Salli and Jinn scooted closer to each other. “We are going to where we were born. And when we left, we were not limited to the gray levels or the gray life.”
Nia looked nervous, so Ruby offered her an encouraging smile in the time it took for Owl Paulie to get more breath.
“You have important things to do. If you don’t do them, you and your children and their children will enter our old home the way we are now—grays. People with no rights and no claim on the value in our holds.”
Ruby blinked. She hadn’t thought through the implication of bringing things home. That was why they’d gone, of course. That, and to learn about other suns. She’d been in the holds outside of C, knew there were rocks and liquids and locked boxes and testaments of explorers, that there were sculptures that looked twisted beyond anything on the ship and dead animals that had been frozen. More. And even with all that, there remained a lot of empty cargo space.
Owl Paulie continued, raising his voice a little. “We were not always slaves.”
Silence, except for the old man’s in breath.
“I know because my family kept a written history. I used to read it over and over, because it had death and courage and freedom in it, and courage and freedom were both rare by the time I was old enough to read the history.”
He paused, and the room stayed quiet, waiting.
“It’s gone now, taken by a red.” He paused. “There was a time when anyone could go anywhere on the ship.”
A beat of silence. No one seemed to need to fill it.
“You’re scared of the reds and the blues. They know how to do that to you. They know how to make you think they’re stronger than they are.”
More pause. He must be here today for this, to give this speech. He must have practiced it. Worried over it. She expected the reds to come before he finished, and she imagined standing in front of him, protecting him from them.
“But these reds and blues are afraid of you.”
The students closest to her looked amazed, like the idea had turned
“I’m glad you’re here. Glad you’re like me and you don’t want to be gray forever.” She touched her looped strand of blue and silver beads. “Glad you want to have the choice to wear uniforms that are this color, too. Glad you want to help me convince the reds and blues that we can all wear each other’s colors, that naked, we’re all the same.”
She hadn’t thought about saying that, it had just come out, the way a homemade song did. It sounded a little stupid, simple. Soft. But it was out. Best keep going. She pointed to Owl Paulie, waited for the room to quiet down. “You all know Owl Paulie. He has something he wants to say.”
They came in closer with no protest, and she used the time to count them. Thirty-one, plus Kyle and Owl Paulie. They scooted together on benches, some of the girls squirming on boys’ laps to make room for more.
Kyle stood outside the circle.
Owl Paulie watched the students settle, his large blue-on-pale-brown eyes suggestive of his name, his hands shaking a bit in his lap. Ruby stood beside him, Onor and Marcelle by her, Hugh on his other side. For a moment Ruby wondered if he was really going to say anything at all, then his chest rose and his nostrils flared. “I came to you because I’m old enough to remember things others don’t want you to know.”
As he stopped for breath, the students glanced at each other, a mix of excitement and confusion.
“We were not born inside this ship. Each of us , yes, but not humans.”
Salli and Jinn scooted closer to each other. “We are going to where we were born. And when we left, we were not limited to the gray levels or the gray life.”
Nia looked nervous, so Ruby offered her an encouraging smile in the time it took for Owl Paulie to get more breath.
“You have important things to do. If you don’t do them, you and your children and their children will enter our old home the way we are now—grays. People with no rights and no claim on the value in our holds.”
Ruby blinked. She hadn’t thought through the implication of bringing things home. That was why they’d gone, of course. That, and to learn about other suns. She’d been in the holds outside of C, knew there were rocks and liquids and locked boxes and testaments of explorers, that there were sculptures that looked twisted beyond anything on the ship and dead animals that had been frozen. More. And even with all that, there remained a lot of empty cargo space.
Owl Paulie continued, raising his voice a little. “We were not always slaves.”
Silence, except for the old man’s in breath.
“I know because my family kept a written history. I used to read it over and over, because it had death and courage and freedom in it, and courage and freedom were both rare by the time I was old enough to read the history.”
He paused, and the room stayed quiet, waiting.
“It’s gone now, taken by a red.” He paused. “There was a time when anyone could go anywhere on the ship.”
A beat of silence. No one seemed to need to fill it.
“You’re scared of the reds and the blues. They know how to do that to you. They know how to make you think they’re stronger than they are.”
More pause. He must be here today for this, to give this speech. He must have practiced it. Worried over it. She expected the reds to come before he finished, and she imagined standing in front of him, protecting him from them.
“But these reds and blues are afraid of you.”
The students closest to her looked amazed, like the idea had turned
Similar Books
