The Other Side of the Island by Allegra Goodman Page B

the lock. Will laughed at Pamela for fussing, but she insisted, “Now that we have them, we’re going to keep them nice; we’ve never had living room curtains before.”
    Honor and Quintilian got separate rooms. Quintilian got a tiny bedroom of his own, and Honor got to sleep in the study attached to the living room. The room had a built-in desk and a shelf, and sliding doors she could close at night to shut herself off from the living room when she wanted to sleep.
    Honor was proud of her father’s promotion and the new house. But when Honor looked at Will and Pamela, she felt helpless. They broke curfew more than once after moving. They went outside sometimes in the middle of the night. Honor asked them where they were going so late. “Stargazing,” said Pamela.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Honor asked.
    “When you look up at the stars, you can see patterns,” Pamela said. “The Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, Orion’s Belt. Gemini. You can learn hundreds of constellations.”
    “Your mother knows them all,” Will said proudly.
    “Well, not all of them,” said Pamela, but she looked pleased.
    “How can there be hundreds of constellations when there are seven stars in the sky at night?” Honor asked.
    Pamela looked uncomfortable. “That’s just the overlay,” she said.
    “Those stars are decorative,” Will reminded Honor. “We look for the real ones.”
    “What real ones? Where can you see real ones?” Honor asked.
    “Away from the City,” said Will.
    “And how is that Allowed?” asked Honor.
    “No one ever said it’s Not Allowed,” her father told her.
    “It’s after curfew, so obviously it’s Not Allowed! You can’t just go off by yourselves in the dark.”
    “We aren’t by ourselves. We go with the Thompsons,” Pamela said.
    Honor shook her head. Her parents were difficult. They laughed at weather drills and water regulations. They even complained aloud about their volunteer work. “Why do we have to volunteer for the anti-litter campaign?” Honor’s father grumbled as he set off every evening on day three.
    “Because everyone in the community has to combat litter,” said Honor, accurately reciting what she’d learned in school.
    “Yes, but why do they call it volunteering if I am required to go?”
    Honor worried about her father constantly. He said all the wrong things and he didn’t even care. She worried about her mother too. One day when Pamela was drawing, Honor saw a leaflet tucked inside her book.
    Counter-Directives for a New World
    1. Cultivate your own fruit trees and eat fresh fruit each day.
    2. Find dark places and study the night sky.
    3. Try to remember something new each day.
    4. You have nothing to fear but fear itself . . .
    —The Forecaster
    “Where did this come from?” Honor demanded.
    “I found it on the ground. In the City,” her mother said.
    “You’re not allowed to collect these. You’re not supposed to bring these home!”
    “I need the paper,” said Pamela. “I draw on the back.”
    Honor snatched Pamela’s drawings and turned them over. “Keep a diary. Write down your thoughts . . .” On the back of each drawing, Honor saw the Forecaster’s words. She began ripping the drawings, one after another.
    “No, Honor!” Her mother snatched her artwork away.
    “You can’t keep those,” Honor protested. It was a crime just to read the Forecaster’s leaflets. If Safety Officers found them in the house, Honor didn’t know what would happen.
    “Please get rid of them,” she begged her mother, but Pamela didn’t listen.
    Honor felt her family was heading toward disaster.
    “I want to know where you go,” she told her father.
    “What are you really doing at night?” she asked her mother.
    “Stargazing,” her mother insisted.
    “Tell that to Quintilian; don’t tell that to me.”
    Her parents said nothing.
    “Why can’t you stay home?” Honor asked.
    “We wouldn’t go if it weren’t important,” said her