she swore him to secrecy that he would never let her former peers know she had them.
When she was appointed to the government position many years ago her supporters only knew that she was a store clerk, no one asked what kind of store. They all just assumed it was Walmart or Target. It turns out she worked at a used book store.
During the Plague she quietly rescued books from her former employer’s shop and the local library when no one was paying attention then hid them carefully throughout her house soon after they were banned. If his sister’s supporters learned that she owned and read so many of these kinds of books they would no doubly wipe her name from history.
I started at the freezer’s contents for a minute or two and noted works by W Somerset Maugham, Jonathan Swift, Aristotle, Ray Bradbury, J.R.R. Tolkien, James Dashner and John Green. I slowly shut the lid after my initial peek, looked at Charles and said nothing.
Charles broke the silence by telling me, “There are a lot more books hidden around the house than what what’s in that freezer. Those are the easiest to access. There are boxes of them hidden behind false walls in the attic and spare bedroom. I also have my sister’s old tablet computer. It has a tiny sim card with at least ten thousand forbidden books saved on it.”
The only thing I could say at that point was, “Why are you showing me all of this?”
He responded, “Because I trust you and someone needs to remember all of this.”
I was in shock and needed time to process what I just experienced. I quickly thanked him and went on to my next client for the day.
A few days later I went back to check on Charles again, hoping to avoid the subject of his secret.
While I was folding a load of his laundry he asked me, “Are you interested in reading any of those books I showed you?
I reluctantly said, “Yes, of course I do but I’m feeling torn at the same time. I have no idea where to start or who any of those authors are. I also feel guilty about the thought of wanting to read any of them, considering I’d be breaking the law if I did.”
He assured me, “You have nothing to worry about. As long as you read every book here at my house and never tell anyone, no one will ever know.”
I answered, “I guess that sounds doable.”
His response reminded me again of my Grandmother and the promise I made her about not telling anyone about the stories she used to tell me when I was little.
The old man then offered me a few title suggestions and I started with a book by a writer named Arthur Koestler called Darkness at Noon. I declined and read a book of funny short stories titled Getting Even instead.
For the next nineteen months I’d spend at least an hour or two every other morning at Charles’ house reading, even when he was not on my daily roster.
At first I’d just read to myself on an old recliner in his living room. After a few weeks, Charles asked me to read out loud to him. He said that his mother and sister used to do it when he was a child and he missed it a lot.
I told him about the tales my Granny used to recite to me when I was little.
Sometimes I’d visit Charles after work under the guise he needed extra help with chores around his house but in reality I just wanted to read more. He didn’t care that I was there so much and appreciated the company since he hardly had any regular visitors other than me. I lived by myself in a studio apartment so there was no one at my place to notice I was not home.
During those months I read books by Vladimir Nabokov, Anne Rice, J.D Salinger, Markus Zusak and a number of essay and short story compilations.
All things must eventually come to an end though.
Charles was obviously getting sicker and it was not just his rheumatism that was affecting him. The doctors at work said that he was getting too old and forgetful to live by himself. It was believed that he might have the beginning symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease. I learned that he would be moved from his house to an assisted care facility sometime during the next two weeks.
On my last visit to Charles he asked me to read him an essay by William Maxwell titled “Nearing Ninety.”
I asked him, “You’re nowhere near ninety. Why are you so interested in that piece?”
He looked at me and smiled, “Silly Lil. It’s about getting old not just turning ninety. “
After I read to him I noticed a tear in his eye. I held my sadness back because I knew this would be the last time we’d be together. He gave me a big hug. Kissed me on my forehead and thanked me for being such a wonderful friend.
He then gave me a weird looking black pendant on a silver chain. I hung it immediately around my neck and gave him another hug.
Charles said, “Remember me every time you wear that thing. I had it made especially for you.”
“I promise I will.”
I kissed him goodbye on his cheek right before I left.
Caught
Six weeks later I was called into my supervisor’s office at the end of my shift.
A woman dressed in a tan pantsuit was sitting next to her. She had two black bars on each of her lapels. I quickly surmised from the pin in her lapel that she was a captain in the Guardians of Morality. I was concerned but figured I better sit down and see what was going on before jumping to any conclusions.
The strange lady had a big mole in the center of her forehead. I wondered to myself why she didn’t have it removed. It was hard to not stare at the thing. She didn’t look happy and scowled at both me and my boss. I initially assumed that she was just auditing cases.
I see a lot of people while performing my job responsibilities. Guardians are always involving themselves in other people’s business and creating problems where they don’t exist. Elderly people are easy targets for them. Two or three inquiries about reported inappropriate behaviors help pad their numbers when trying to reach their monthly quotas. It’s not uncommon for a Guardian to show up and ask a few health related questions about individuals we treat. Nothing usually comes of it.
Charlene, my manager noted, “Teresa, we had some questions for you about your visits with Charles. “
I was worried about him and asked, “Is Charles OK? Did he die or something bad happen to him?”
My boss said, “ No honey, he’s fine, but while he was being moved out of the house a lot of concerning things where discovered. Ms. Ratched and I want to know if you were aware of anything unusual going on there.”
I calmly told them, “No, not that I’m aware of, unless making cups of tea and folding laundry is considered strange.”
My boss went on to explain, “According to your submitted time cards….”
The peculiar woman suddenly became impatient. She was not satisfied with the answer I provided or my supervisor’s method of inquiry.
Charlene was abruptly cut off mid-sentence, “Enough of this chatter! Young lady, why didn’t you turn your client into the proper authorities the instant you learned about all those books?
If you were under eighteen years old I’d let you off with a stern warning and a few weeks of community service but you are twenty years old and should know better.
Please don’t tell me that you read any of that filthy rubbish that traitor kept in his house.
My head grew light. It was hard to not cry in response to what I was hearing. I tried to hide my embarrassment and looked down
Ha, it’s pretty apparent that you did, from the look I see on your face….
So shameful, you are such a pretty young girl. Society had such aspirations for you and this is how you show your gratitude for the five years of schooling it paid for!
By choosing to aid that wretched criminal you have seriously made matters more difficult for yourself!”
Ms. Ratched caught me off guard. She knew everything. It was apparent that I was guilty. All I could do was sit there in silence, holding back the tears with my eyes cast down.
When the woman was finally done scolding me she immediately called for security, had me arrested and I was brought to jail.
Conclusion
I guess I was lucky compared to some. After my quick trial I was sentenced to Mars Row but I was only there a couple weeks before my name was drawn by the CLS. I was sent to the Mars Colony on the next available transport ship.
I was both scared and excited to be sent to Mars. Never setting foot on Earth again is unsettling but it’s better than spending the rest of your life locked in a six foot by six foot prison cell alone with your thoughts.
Everything is thoroughly searched and accounted for before it’s loaded onto any ship being sent to a colony. They want to make sure that no one is smuggling anything illegal. Because of cost, only approved and essential items have ever been sent to either of the colonies. The policy has made it relatively easy for officials to police and control anything possessed by colonists.
There is a major black market for commonplace Earth items like spices, coffee, seeds and air freshener. People will pay a month’s salary for some of those items making it real tempting to stuff a few packs of gum or Kool Aid into your vagina or rectum before leaving despite the risk of getting caught.
I mentioned earlier that colony transport ships are scheduled to leave Earth every two years or so (give or take a few months). The actual trip between Earth and Mars is about a year. Clearance for orbiting transport ships to land though can take anywhere from a few days to up to two years in some