She Wore Black Page 2

  “So, GreyBrook started then?”

  She nodded, eating a biscuit.

  “Yes. Some people felt that the women were gaining too much power. Some of those people included other women, which… I have always struggled to understand, but then again look around you in Pius, there are plenty of women who preach the GreyBrook Pius way.”

  I nodded, I knew too many, it made me afraid to mention what I actually thought of things to anyone, other than Mama.

  “They argued that the women had done things to deserve that treatment and that they ever dared to question that treatment was abhorrent, as they were considering themselves as not at fault. Ellwood was one of these, and gathered a large group of like-minded people and created GreyBrook, where they could continue on the same path they had always taken, and shut out the rest of the world. And…. then you have where we are today.”

  I frowned, “No one has stood up to the leaders like that in the 100 years GreyBrook has been around?”

  She shook her head, sadly, “You know the Laws as well as I do, Reed. To question the actions of the Leaders can result in expulsion or death. I’ve not got this damn old by doing silly things.” She sighed, “But… if I can let you in on a little secret, I’d always secretly hoped that someone would. I couldn’t be the change I needed to see, but I hoped someone else could, at least in my lifetime. Maybe in yours.” She murmured, wistfully.

  Mama Scott appeared pale after our story, her daughters helping her up to take a nap on her bed. I had no idea how old she was, only that she was much older than most of the elderly people in Pius, and in much better health too!

  While they were helping Mama, I had tidied the lounge room, putting the tea cups into the sink. Melissa, one of Mama’s granddaughters, spotted me and came to help.

  “Melissa, how does Mama know all of that, from Before? She’s not old enough to have been there…. is she?” I whispered the last part, uncertain. Melissa laughed, rinsing the dishes.

  “God no. She was born in GreyBrook, not long after they put the walls up. She was a child in the early days. Great Grandmother was forced to join GreyBrook by her husband and his parents. Mama’s mother used to whisper the secrets to her. Mama used to whisper them to my mother, and her sisters… now, she doesn’t bother to whisper anymore,” We grinned at each other, Mama was quite naughty regarding the rules.

  “I don’t want to get her into trouble. I hope it’s okay that she talks to me?”

  Melissa smiled, “She loves talking to you. She’s seen something in you, has talked about it not being a family secret now, needing ‘fresh blood’ in on it too. I figure she thinks you’ll actually do something about it.” I frowned at her, as she grinned, “She’s always going on about how she’s disappointed in her family, and herself, that we’ve not ‘been the change’, and figures most of us are getting too long in the tooth to do anything. She’s a grumpy old bat some days!”

  I laughed, “I’ll bet,” I paused, in thought, startled when Melissa tutted with her tongue.

  “And, damn it…. she was right.”

  “Huh?”

  “About you. We’ll never live this down.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about and told her so. I continued to visit Mama every few weeks. She was often the only person who cared about what I was doing, how I was getting on with school, my Selection Day choices. I had to be careful not to stay too long or Father would think I was shirking my duties.

  The women she spoke of, that the little contraband book spoke of - they gave me hope. The prophecies I read in the little black book reminded me of one thing they hadn’t wiped out with the purity-washing of GreyBrook’s history, and the dirty history of the Before - History will repeat itself if nothing changes.

  The history, in all its purity-washed glory, that they taught us was straight from the Book of Laws. Even the teachers were not to deviate from it. Even though Mr. Hughes, who taught both Philosophy and History, was an uptight, law-abiding citizen, there were times you could see the light go out of his eyes when he had to teach GreyBrook history. It could not be embellished, and in particular, never questioned.

  “Class, it’s that time of year again.” He sighed one morning, a little while after I had spoken with Mama Scott. The class joined him in his sighing, then glanced around for the monitor. We learnt about GreyBrook’s beginnings around the anniversary of its creation, so there was usually a monitor from the Grand Leader’s office checking that the schooling was being administered correctly. This year, however, had been different. He wasn’t there and never turned up. Mr. Hughes shrugged, allowing himself a small smile, and started the lesson.

  “In the beginning.” The class groaned as a collective, startled when he gave us all a huge smile, “It is boring trying to teach you that way. Let’s try something different, BUT, we still have to learn the same stuff. You ask me what you want to know.” He pointed to one of the others who had their hand raised.

  “Why?”

  “Why GreyBrook? To shut out the world of sin that the Before was becoming. To remain pure.” I raised my hand,

  “But, what was so sinful about it?” He shot me a look, expecting me to look away, but I just gazed at him, “I mean, what was so different to how it is now? What did Ellwood expect to make different?”

  “What’s different, Miss Taylor, is that those whose rights were being taken away by the demands of a select group keep them in GreyBrook. Those who were trying to take them away and demanding rights of their own do not have those same rights. All is as it should be.”

  “Yeah, if you happen to be a guy,” I muttered, forgetting where I was for a minute. Mr. Hughes fixed me with a look that told me he’d heard, but would not acknowledge it for fear of others getting funny ideas.

  “Ellwood Marshall, our illustrious founder, strove to ensure that the rights it entitled us were not overturned, creating GreyBrook, modelled after his church and its teaching. The word of our Lord, and the word of Ellwood and the original Section Leaders is Law. People from all over who thought the same flocked to the outskirts of GreyBrook in order to join us and create the great city that is GreyBrook.”

  “From where?” A guy at the back of the class had called out.

  “Outside,” Mr. Hughes grunted, “We speak of nothing outside GreyBrook.”

  “But sir, you just said they came from all over. No one ever tells us where.”

  “Because without knowing what is outside, it will mean nothing.”

  I smiled to myself. Mama Scott had mentioned where they’d come from and shown me a small picture of how the world outside actually looked. It was huge! People were so threatened by the women’s movement at the time they had travelled for days to get into GreyBrook.

  “Why did he decide on separating into sections?”

  “Ellwood realised that if everyone was all together, it was likely that nothing would get done, everyone waiting for someone else to do it. He figured out that giving everyone a job, a role in the world of GreyBrook would prevent chaos, and outbreaks of violence. So, he came up with five sections focused on specific areas - Technology and Communication, Education, Production of Food and Goods, Health care and Healing, and Security. Or, as we know them today - Luculentus, Perdoctus, Arator, Pius and Ferox. In order to cover everyone for everything, they decided that some of each group would train with the main section and move to other sections so that it provided each section for over-all job roles.”

  “Did they have Selection Day?” asked a younger member of the class, one not currently facing Selection Day soon.

  “Not to start with. Ellwood eventually found that those who were placed into the initial sections, or born into them, weren’t necessarily the best fit for the section they happened to be in, and Selection Day was born. Now, do any of you know the sections your parents were in before Pius?”

  Many of the others were Pius born and bred, a few had parents who had transferred in from other sections, mainly Arator, or Perdoctus. My mot
her was a Perdoctus transfer, father Pius born and bred. Those who didn’t choose, or failed the tests of their chosen section became what we called ‘Non-Sels’ - homeless drifters who relied on the kindness of others to survive on the outskirts of the city, and were generally viewed as dirty, and unwanted, and a great shame to the sections they had come from, and in particular their fathers. No one wanted to be one of these people by choice that I knew of. The lesson continued for a short time after this, after all, it wasn’t new information to us, but it made more of an impact when the lesson is interactive.

  The conversations with Mama Scott, and the unusual history lesson Mr. Hughes had given, had me pondering for days, when I was supposed to be thinking about what I would do for Selection Day. So much so, my father picked up on the fact I was dreaming. He refused to have a Non-Sel besmirch his family name. Thinking I was heading that way, he set about teaching me the way I was supposed to act. Man, I was a slow learner.

  Father did not abide dreamers in his household. You had to have focus, whether it was on the small things, or the major things, focus was key. I had known this my entire life but was slow to learn the consequences. He also became expert at noticing when I was dreaming, getting better at it as I aged, as I could never hide it. At least, I suppose, it meant he was paying me some attention.

  “Reed, focus! You must decide, and you need to know as much about the Section as you can. You WILL not be Non-Sel in this family, and that is where dreaming will get you. Pius - the key tenets of how we live our lives - quick smart.” He thumped a leather belt on the table as he spoke deliberately. I stood to the side of the table, the thumping making me jump.

  “First, the word of the Lord and Ellwood Marshall are Law. Second, Honour thy Father. Third, do no harm. Fourth heal the sick and infirm. Fifth, give to those with less, and assist those who require help. Sixth, never speak an ill word against another.”

  He smiled, a rare sight, before barking another question.

  “Key tenets of Ferox.”

  I blinked. That was a sharp change in direction from Pius, the healers, to Ferox the protectors.

  “First, the word of Ellwood Marshall is Law. Second, honour thy Father. Third, protect GreyBrook from outside influence and disruption by any means necessary. Fourth, prevent disruption within GreyBrook by any means necessary, Fifth, fight to the death for the good of GreyBrook. Sixth, live a life worthy of being a hero.”

  A sharp crack to the back of my left elbow made me gasp, in pain and confusion. I’d got the tenets right, I knew I had. I stood to attention, regardless of the pain in my arm.

  “Reed! Focus,” he growled

  “Father, I’m not sure where I went wrong,” I murmured, knowing challenging him was a risk.

  He glared at me, slapping the belt on the table again.

  “First, the Word of the LORD and Ellwood Marshall is law.”

  I frowned, Ferox’s first tenet was different as many within their ranks were not religious, something that rankled Barrett Marshall, the Grand Leader, a direct descendant of Ellwood’s.

  “Father, Ferox has a different First Tenet.” I flinched as he picked up the belt again, “I can show you if you let me pull out the book?” Wrapping the belt around his hand, I tried to ignore the threat of another whipping.

  “Show me then.”

  I pulled the book towards me, flicking to the chapter on Ferox. Finding the tenets, I pointed out the difference.

  “Oh,” he muttered, almost too quietly to hear, risking losing face. “The main service provided by Arator?” he barked, no apology. I hadn’t expected one.

  “To provide GreyBrook Proper with fresh produce, meat, and fibres. To maintain the agriculture, the animals and grains, to a standard that prevents malnutrition, and illness within GreyBrook Proper. Foods and grains beneficial for health, nothing processed. Eating food that is too processed lead to illness, obesity, and early death before the creation of GreyBrook, and must be avoided at all costs for those inside GreyBrook.” He nodded.

  “Jeffrey,” my mother called from the front room, “Surely, can’t you give her a break? You’ve been pushing her for over an hour.”

  He scowled in her direction and I cringed - my mother sticking up for me would lead to trouble if she pushed it too far.

  “Kahu, that is for me to decide, and Reed has made too many mistakes for us to finish this now.”

  “Okay, Jeffery.”

  He scowled at me and asked me a series of questions I always struggled with - not because I didn’t know the answers, but I hated having to say it out loud.

  “The role of a woman in any section?”

  “To honour thy Lord, Father, and Husband. To produce offspring. To work at her role within the Section she was born to, or chose, to the best of her limited female abilities.”

  Smack.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out, the other elbow this time.

  “What else?”

  “To obey her Father and Husband.”

  “In what matters?”

  “All of them.”

  “Including marital duties within the bedroom?”

  “Yes. Whether she wants to or not,” I spat, unable to stop myself from saying it. My mouth often ran away on me.

  The smacks from the belt came thick and fast. He never aimed for anything other than the back of my arms, the bruises and scars were easier to hide there. He stopped when he grew breathless.

  I could taste blood in my mouth, I must have bitten the inside of my lip.

  “For your insolence. Continue - if another has permission from her father or husband and asks?”

  “She is to obey,” I muttered.

  “We are done. Brush up for tomorrow, or there will be more of this,” he grunted, rinsing the belt under the tap and drying it before putting it back on.

  I felt the back of one arm, fingers searching with the gentlest of touches. He’d broken skin, again. Damn. I had to wash before the blood dried on my clothes or Mother would get suspicious if I didn’t get to the laundry in time.

  “May I take a shower now, Father?” I asked, submissive.

  “You may.” He strode outside to his shed attached to the garage, to work on something for his job as a Health worker - he invented things.

  My relationship with my father was strained, but it didn’t stop me from being in awe of some of the ideas he came up with to help with saving lives and make providing quality health care easier. He was an exceptional, intelligent man, and I was proud to have him as my father, but he was also born and bred Pius, and rigid to a fault on how one was supposed to act, and be, as a Pius member. It wasn’t his fault I was a slow learner of the minute details of how I was supposed to act, and it wasn’t his fault I was a stubborn opinionated female - if I’d been Jameson, who was actually quietly spoken, it would have been a different story. I sometimes thought the personalities got mixed up in utero, and I got what was supposed to be his.

  Father’s personality differed so much to Mother’s that I’d often wondered what had brought them together. One night, after Father had turned in early, Mother and I sat at the table talking in hushed voices.

  “How did you end up with Father? You are just so different.”

  She smiled, “I was 19 when my Selection Day came up, I’d been unwell for the previous one. And, as you know, you cannot marry unless you’ve been through Selection. I was unmarried and new to Pius. Your father was assigned to show me the ropes, as he was born Pius, and had been in his role for a year.” Another smile crossed her face, “We got to talking in the quiet times. He felt safe telling me his ideas because I was, and I quote ‘A woman, so I won’t be inventing anything.’ Yes, he was a little overconfident in his abilities, and fixated on the roles of women, even then. A few weeks later I was assigned to my own role, and we didn’t see each other, until the time came that he was getting a little long in the tooth to be unmarried and forced to make his choice. His choice was me.” She shrugged, as though it was no big th
ing not being involved in the choice of whom to marry.

  Stepping out of the shower, turning off the water, and drying myself I could hear noise from downstairs. Checking that my arms had stopped bleeding and placing a dressing over the one that was still oozing a little, I pulled my nightwear on and left the bathroom. Jameson was standing in the hallway, in his pyjamas, listening to the noise from downstairs. It finally registered what was happening when I heard the slap of the belt on flesh. Grappling with a lump in my throat, I tried to push past Jameson to get to my room. This was my fault, she’d stood up to him for me - no matter how minor the infraction, the rules were the same. Jameson grabbed my elbow as I passed, making me gasp.

  “What did you do?” he muttered, anger bubbling beneath the surface of his voice, “He’s beating on her again. He always beats on her after he’s been teaching you.”

  I pushed his hand from my arm, the release removing the pain so I could think. “Nothing. I answered a couple wrong and annoyed him.”

  “It’s gotta be more than that; this is your fault, Reed.”

  I scowled at him. “It is fucking not. I didn’t do anything. He’s angry ‘cause she asked him to give me a break I didn’t need.”

  “So, it’s her fault.”

  That felt wrong as well.

  “No, it’s his. He made the choice to hit her.”

  The sound of a fist to flesh travelled up the stairs, a winded grunt from my mother. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally did, raising my hand to wipe them away, Jameson glimpsed the back of my arm under my night shirt.