“I didn’t mean it that way!” Asa sighed with frustration. “It was a great place to grow up. It’s a great place now. I just want to try something new, now that I can.”
“It’s not about the place, Asa,” Sarah murmured. “It’s about the people.”
“I know that, Mom. I just want to see a little more of the world, that’s all.”
His parents were silent. Isaac pulled out a wooden chair and sat beside his wife. “I suppose we can’t stop you,” he said doubtfully, as if realizing this new state of affairs for the first time.
“No, you can’t,” Asa said quietly. His mother and father exchanged a glance. His mother shook her head and took another sip of coffee.
“I don’t like it,” she said in an even tone. She didn’t look at Asa, staring at the middle of the table as if something very interesting were happening there.
“I know, Mom.”
“Asa, can you really imagine starting a new life, surrounded by people you’ve never met? The people of Rosewood have known you all your life. They know the whole of you—who you were the day you were born, who you’ve become, and everything in between. How would it be if everyone around you were a stranger? How could they truly love you without knowing the whole of you, the way the people here do?”
Her voice grew strident, and Isaac put his hand on hers. “Your sister Ruth met Matthew outside of Rosewood. She went all the way to Deerfield, remember? And they’re happy as can be.”
“They have no children, Isaac,” Sarah said, lowering her voice.
“That’s their choice,” he said calmly. “All I’m saying is, I don’t think it would be such a bad thing if Asa went to Pine Valley or Pleasantdale for a little while. Some young people need to breathe a different air before they can settle down.”
Sarah sighed and shook her head. “I don’t like it,” she said again. “But maybe your father is right. Do you know where you want to go?”
Asa swallowed. He had meant to get everything out all at once, but the conversation had gotten away from him almost immediately.
So much for having an answer for everything, he thought.
“I’m going to Horizon,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Today.”
His mother gasped, and his father’s face darkened. “Asa,” Isaac said, his voice taking on a firmer edge. “Horizon is quite a different thing.”
“People live there, don’t they?”
“People who live there have reasons,” Isaac corrected. “Authority Figures, people training at the medical and engineering schools, anyone who has chosen to become a vessel of the State. People who need to be in Horizon to learn or to serve the greater good.”
“Other people live there too.”
“People who live dangerous lives,” Sarah said. “Asa, you’re a risk-taker. I know that, and it has terrified me ever since you … I have feared for you. I’ve always hoped that when you reached maturity—or perhaps when you married—you would settle down, and I would stop having nightmares about what you might do next.”
“Mom …” Asa half-heartedly tried to interrupt, but his father glared him into silence.
“And now,” Sarah continued, “you tell me you are about to take the greatest risk of your life—and worse, I won’t even know what is happening to you, because you’ll be hundreds of miles away!”
“Mom, it’s only a few hours away on the rail!”
“Did you know there was a young man who moved to Horizon from here?” Sarah said slowly. “He was our age, Isaac, remember? He went when he was twenty-three.”
“Adam,” Isaac said.
“Adam,” Sarah repeated, nodding. “He was only in Horizon for three months before he broke his Social Contract. Then he was sent to Work.” She looked plaintively at her son. “Twenty-three years old, and he never saw his family again. Why must you willingly enter the same trap that he did?”
“What? I’m not Adam—I never even met this guy! I’m bound by my Social Contract just as much as you are. You raised me to know right from wrong. Do you think I’m going to become a different person just because I move to the city?”
His father opened his mouth to speak, but Asa rushed on.
“It’s not like I can break my Social Contract by accident, Mom! I would never hurt anyone or anything deliberately. I would never damage the world around me. And you raised me from the day I was born to act with respect for myself, for my community, and for the State that keeps us all safe and provides everything we need.” He heard himself falling into a singsong rhythm as he finished, going back to his childhood, when they first learned how to remember the words. Sarah and Isaac still looked at him sadly.
“It’s not always up to you, son,” Isaac said finally. “Whether or not you become a different person. People do change, and you can’t know how something will change you until it happens.”
“You should know me better than that,” Asa said. “I don’t want to become a different person. I just want to see what it’s like to live differently.”
“And once you experience this? Will you come back?” Isaac asked. His mother waited anxiously for his answer.
Never, Asa thought, the word on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it.
“Maybe,” he said instead. The answer ended the argument, but it didn’t seem to have reassured anyone.
His mother stood abruptly and went back to the coffee pot. She refilled her cup slowly and stood looking out the kitchen window as if she might never turn around. She was done with the argument, apparently. Isaac came up behind her and whispered something in her ear, and she leaned back against him. Suddenly uncomfortable, Asa retreated to his room.
His things were already packed—he had been packing and unpacking for weeks, carefully choosing which of his possessions he would give precious space to in his hiking backpack, then having to undo the whole thing when he inevitably needed socks. Last night, though, had been the final round. He had stripped it down to the bare essentials: nothing sentimental, nothing that could not be used every day.
He hefted the pack onto his back, testing the weight, and nearly dropped it as he turned at the sound of a knock on the door. Hannah was hanging onto the frame, half in the hallway, her eyes wide and anxious.
“You’re really leaving?” she asked.
Asa set the backpack down. “Yes,” he said. “It’ll be okay though—we’ll see each other soon. It’s only a few hours away on the rail.”
Hannah frowned. She hesitated in the door for another moment, then darted across the room and sat down on the bed, twisting her braided hair in her fingers. “What’s wrong with Rosewood?” she asked. “Susanna would marry you, Asa, or Leah, or even some of the girls in my class, if you wanted to wait.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought, and Asa laughed.
“Hannah, it’s not about that. I just want to explore a little, see something new.”
“What will you do there?”
“I don’t know yet.” Asa sat beside his sister. “I just want to try something new. You can come visit me, as soon as I have a place to live. I’ll send you a rail pass, okay?”