By David C. Daoust
For Harper, Grady was weird from day one, the adults especially. They were all neatly dressed, neatly groomed. There seemed to be four or five acceptable styles. They liked to cycle through these styles, like, with the seasons or something? Harper didn’t get it. Not like her older sister Sadie, she blended right in from the start. The eldest Blue sister was much more congenial than Harper though. For Sadie, Harper was pretty sure that it was just another act, another part to play. Sadie tended to get the lead roles in the troupe; she just had that way about her.
Harper still ‘dressed like a First Waver’. That’s what Sadie told her anyway. First Wave dress was inspired by those that had suffered the Royal Alliance regimes. They’d fabricate their own clothes, their own designs, rather than be forced to wear whatever those in power, decided to produce. Mostly, to prove they weren’t like the Viceroy Cronies. To show they weren’t followers.
Grady were all followers. They were told what was acceptable, and they just followed along. Her mother said it helped to protect them from where they came from. She said, where they came from, they could find themselves stripped down, and going hungry, in the blink of an eye. All because of where they were born, or that they weren’t Mottled. They learned to help each other, to feed the ones that couldn’t feed themselves, to make sure they were all warm, all clothed. Her mother explained, this allowed them to live happily as prey, amongst the wolves. Sadie claimed it helped to hide the wolves. She’d followed the declaration with a chomp of her teeth, a smirk, and a wink. Which made Harper laugh. Sadie only said things like this when her guise dropped, and the First Wave girl shone through, which only happened around Harper or her sisters.
Harper liked to think she’d bite back.
But looking out over Grady- at all they’d built, brought to rubble- Harper couldn’t think of what to say. What she’d do. Harper was the one that had spoken up in the Starport. The one that had claimed, that not all First Wave were to blame. That they would help. That they could all get through this, if only they’d work together. Mr. Denali, who had accompanied her to the Starport, immediately took over. She was glad. It was a bit more than she had ever said in front of such a large crowd. (Harper preferred to play gopher backstage.) So, the darkness helped.
Harper’s stride was only slightly longer than Ratchets, enough to put her in the lead though, as the pair ran down the street banked by cracked and crumbling rubble.
“Here,” Ratchet called as he came to a stop.
Harper abruptly skidded through gravel, and backtracked a bit.
“I don’t know…” Harper said apprehensively. “We promised Mr. Lions we wouldn’t take anything from the rubble.”
“I know, I’ll be quick,” Ratchet explained. “They’re my boots. I just want to dig them up.”
Harper looked worried. The people of Grady were scattered throughout the disaster area, collecting what possessions they could. Trying to figure out what was salvageable. They didn’t look pleased.
“C’mon, we need all the parts we can get,” Ratchet tried to get her to agree.
“What’s wrong dear?” an old woman said as she approached. She had that same look about her, with that same bun on her head, like all the older women of Grady.
“My friend lost his boots up there,” Harper didn’t know how to explain, “But I don’t want to create problems…”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want them to think we’re stealing someone else’s stuff,” Harper clarified.
“Well, if they are his, they’re his,” the woman said simply. “Nothing you can do for it…”
“Yeah but,” Harper wanted to be good on her word. And she didn’t want to feed the gossip machine that was Grady. Plus, you know, tense situation.
“Boy, you go up and do what you need to,” the woman said to Ratchet. “If I hear any tongues wagging, I’ll be sure to set them straight.”
Ratchet glanced at Harper to see if she was agreeable. Still torn, Harper nodded, which sent Ratchet scurrying up the pile.
“Try not to worry so much, sweetheart,” the woman said, “As long as the truth is on your side, it doesn’t matter what they say.”
“Well, I made a promise,” Harper said simply as they watched Ratchet climb through the rubble until he found the right spot.
“You know,” the woman said with a whimsical smile, “You shouldn’t let that demon ‘They’ get a grip on your mind. He’s a shapeshifter that one…”
“Haha!” Ratchet cheered, and yelled down to her, “…they popped right out, once the power was on!”
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