De-Unification

We were digging up the potatoes when Maggie-Mae collapsed. She slipped silently to the ground between the neat green rows - I don’t think anyone else saw. I didn’t want to draw attention, so I kept digging as I moved closer to her position, near enough to see she was still breathing. Her soft, gray hair clung damply to her cheeks, and she made a rasping, phlegmy sound with each shallow breath. It was clear she was unfit for work.

I was conflicted. My duty as a Union member was to report this event, since it would affect our unit’s productivity. The rules were crystal clear – any member deemed unfit or unwilling to meet the required hours was to be removed from duty, and placed on half rations. But Maggie-Mae was 68, her rations already reduced in line with her age. The skin hung from her frame, and she wouldn’t survive a further restriction.

I glanced around the field, so far so good. Everyone was preoccupied with their own work, they wouldn’t be able to see her over the foliage. I took her basket, digging twice as hard as before, faster than I had ever worked in my life. I alternated with every plant, pulling the muddy potatoes from the roots and tossing them in her basket, then mine. I was sweating hard now, my breathing ragged. I could see the others reaching the end of their rows, while I was still only ¾ down mine. Not fast enough. My heart pounded as I pushed still harder, the fork stabbing into the loose earth, the tug as the roots pulled free. I reached the bottom of the field, dumping out the potatoes on our separate piles, before moving along two rows and starting over.

By the time we broke for lunch, Maggie-Mae had revived. I carried her pail as well as my own, and sat beside her while she coughed, unable to swallow.

“Here,” I offered her my soup instead, exchanging the hearty broth for her stale lump of bread. She smiled gratefully, but I could see the fear in her eyes.

“You’re a great kid, Brady. I wish your Ma was here to see it.” Her hands shook as she raised the cup to her mouth. The color was returning to her cheeks, the rest had done her good.

“Do you think you can keep going?” I asked her, and she nodded, but I only had to see her struggling to wield her spade to know that she was too weak. Another coughing fit wracked her body, this time when she wiped her mouth there was blood on her sleeve.

“I’m sorry, kid. I think this is it for me. Pneumonia, maybe. I’m long overdue for de-Unification, you know.”

“No!” I spoke too loudly, the others turning towards us, shaking their heads. It was dangerous to draw attention to ourselves. I handed her a basket, shoving her towards the next row. “Don’t give up yet! Look, if I dig both our rows at once you can just pull the potatoes free and load our baskets. You can sit down to do it.”

“you’ll hurt yourself, digging so hard” she warned, but I ignored her, increasing my pace till my arms shook and my back screamed in protest.

When the evening bell rang out, our piles were almost as big as usual. The tractor trundled over, and I realized with alarm that Maggie-Mae couldn’t load her harvest alone. I moved to help her, but she shook her head, eyes watery and sad. She wouldn’t risk me being brought before the council as a saboteur. As she struggled to throw her baskets up onto the high trailer bed, the driver jumped out of the cab. She was a slight woman, her glossy brown hair tied back in a high pony tail. She hurried over, looking at me quizzically, and pulled her tunic down slightly to reveal a small wooden heart locket tied to a piece of shoe lace. I didn’t understand the gesture.

As I turned to load my own potatoes, this younger woman took the basket from Maggie-Mae, and began throwing her crop onto the pile. I finished my own and joined her, working in silence till the pile was gone. The woman smiled as she climbed back into the tractor and whispered “Tonight! Final bell, behind the shower block.”

I put my arm around Maggie-Mae as we headed back to the Facility. She leant on me gratefully, and when we reached the buttery she slumped into a chair beside the fire. I fetched us some water.

“Brady, I know you mean well, my boy. You’ve been a blessing to me these last five years, that’s what. But we both know I can’t work the fields anymore. I’m old, son. I’m tired.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I know. But surely there’s some other job you can do, if we just talk to the council! Maybe they’ll let me take some of your hours, I could work evenings, or rest-days. We have to at least try!”

She took my hand in her own. “Brady, we both know the council isn’t going to agree to that. They’ll say your productivity during work hours will be lessened, quote the directives on appropriate labor hours and productivity. No, you’ll have to let me go, child. I won’t have you getting into trouble on my account.”

“Just give me another day, Mags. Please, for my sake. I’m not ready to lose you yet.”

She nodded, struggling to her feet and shuffling towards the women’s dormitory. “Ok, pet. One more day. But I’m done in tonight, time for bed. Don’t worry, it’ll all work out. The Union knows what’s best.”

The Union. I was starting to struggle with the whole concept. I know it had started with the best intentions – a way to share the planet’s dwindling resources evenly across the population, regardless of geographic location. It meant fresh water and food for the starving in drought ridden areas, and work for everyone over the age of 14. Ration books were based off calorific needs calculated by computers – a young male in a physically demanding job receiving more than an elderly female behind a desk. Not that there were many desk jobs anymore.

Over the years, as resources reduced even further, more drastic measures were implemented. The elderly started disappearing, carted off in busses by the Security Branch. Everyone said there were retirement villages, but I wasn’t convinced. We heard rumors of mass graves in old quarries, and people buried alive so as not to waste bullets. There was no way I could risk Maggie-Mae to that fate.

I crept out of the residential block as the final bell rang, slipping out the side door and round to the shower block. Technically I was breaching Union rules – the Shower block was out of bounds except for each unit’s specific allocated times, twice a week. But it was already dark out, and there was no Security around.

I crouched behind the building, my heart beating so loudly I could feel it in my temples. Who was this mysterious woman, and why the secrecy? Was it a trap?

She showed up a few minutes later, glancing around nervously to be sure we were alone.

“I’m Eliana,” she whispered, crouching next to me in the shadows.

“Brady,” I replied, holding out my hand, expecting her to shake it. Instead, I felt something hard pressed into my palm. I looked down in surprise. A wooden locket, just like hers! “What’s this for?” I asked.

“It’s our sign,” she replied. “It lets others know quickly that you’re one of us.”

“One of who?” I was struggling to comprehend how anybody could be anything other than Union.

“A helper.” She gestured to the heart. “I saw what you did for the old woman today – you probably saved her life, even though it cost you a lot.” She ran a finger over my blistered hand, grimacing as she saw me wince in pain. “See? You put yourself out for another person, despite the risks. You’re a helper, Brady.”

“I am?” I pondered it for a moment.

She nodded. “Yup. There’s a dozen of us here in this facility. Thousands across the country, you’d be surprised. There’s talk of one day rising up against the Union, ditching their forced socialism. It clearly isn’t working.”

“Wow.” I was stunned. But then I remembered Maggie-Mae. “My friend – she’s sick. Sick and old. She doesn’t think she can work the fields anymore, and I’m scared she’s right. Can your helpers do anything about it?”

She looked concerned. “That’s hard. We can’t be seen to offer aid to those obviously failing in productivity. The helpers who get caught are sent before the Council, and they don’t return.”

“De-Unionized?”

“Murdered, more like.” Her face was grim.

“I have to help Mags, though! She’s like a grandparent to me. She raised me, after my Mum was sent to a different Facility.”

“I get it. I’ll see what I can do. Have her wait behind after breakfast in the buttery. I may have an idea.”

“Okay. But Eliana – how do I contact you again? Do we have meetings with the other helpers? How does this all work?” I had so many questions that needed answered. The small wooden heart felt heavy in my hand.

“You don’t, I’m afraid. For the most part, we work alone. We only expose ourselves when we’re sure someone won’t report us. Like me today, when I saw you in the field digging your friend’s row.”

“Oh.” I was disappointed, but also relieved. At least this way I was less likely to be caught.

“So what now? What does a helper do?”

“You just do what you are doing right now. Help others. The Union has it all wrong, people have so many other values beyond productivity. The elderly have stories to tell, the disabled have other skills and talents to offer. We shouldn’t be forced to fit into neat little boxes – we aren’t robots!” She looked fierce, her eyes sparkling with indignation.

“I agree.”

“So you’ll join us? You’ll keep looking for those that need help, and do what you can?”

“I promise. But please, don’t forget Maggie-Mae…” I trailed off, realizing she was already gone.

The next morning as I headed into the field, I noticed Maggie-Mae was missing. I didn’t see her at lunch time, and by the time the evening bell sounded I was sure I would never see her again.

The tractor trundled towards me, and I stood up, ready to load my potatoes on the back.

“Coo-ee!” A familiar voice called out from the cab. My heart leapt.

“Mags? Is that really you?” I asked in disbelief.

“It sure is! That nice young lady from yesterday offered to trade shifts with me. I’ll be driving from now on. I think she just wanted an excuse to work with you,” she winked.

I looked down the field towards the other workers. Sure enough, there was Eliana, sweaty and dirty, but smiling.

I felt the wooden heart in my pocket. A helper. It was good to know I was not alone.