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Dende Fontaine

And The Black Index

By Jordan YoungPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
1
Dende daydreams near the mushroom fields. But today is a special day.

"Money, oh yessss monayyy, ha! Is the root- ah of alllll evaaahl! Yes Lawd, say it with me now."

Is… is that really true?

A sudden burst of merriment interrupted my faraway daydreams. The preacher's wife sucked all the wind from the room to join her husband and the Everston choir into a frenzy of praise. I wouldn’t tell a lie in church—they could undoubtedly carry a tune. I clung to my brother's hand, following along with every word echoing through the vast cathedral. But a part of me was somewhere else. Everyone around me, everything I touched, the air I breathed seemed to be concealing something sinister.

My mother jabbed my shoulder with her all-too-seasoned elbow. "No slouching, pay attention Dende!" She hissed loudly through her teeth. My head jolted up from its prior nodding.

My l’il bro Fennick giggled, "Haha, you got into big trouble. And on a Sunday too!"

Inertia not here for you to be acknowledged, I wanted to tell him. Then I remembered how sensitive the topic was.

Poor girl. We've knew each other since the beginning. Inertia's whole family was swimming in debt to the council. Debt that could only be paid from years of labor. Inertia wasn't having that. She was willing to do anything to turn the tables of fortune.

The candy lady in the row ahead peered at Fennick from under her wide-rimmed hat with a sour look of displeasure at his mocking tone. And of course, driven by the prospect of a much-needed sugar fix, Fennick immediately complied.

We all crave something.

The sermon continued, slicing through my thoughts: "Sinful earthly craviiiiings ah-ha is the downfall, YAS, of man, woman and child!"

Man is it hot in here or what!

The sun stung my skin as we hustled out of church to run some errands for the council. Every Sunday, we toiled in the mushroom plains. Digging up and identifying species, sorting them into individual little containers. We were paid in food, and sometimes credits that went towards things like basic healthcare and burial costs. Poverty was no longer an escapable reality. It was mandated, controlled, weaponized towards the community.

Then there was the council.

"Why are you always brooding? WAKE UP loser." A sharp hand pinched my fleshy cheeks. I batted it away, already knowing who the bitter culprit was.

"Ouch!"

"We finally have the 10 credits we need to blow this place for a while."

Inertia threw her hair back and wrapped it in a scrunchie, walking past me with too much attitude to spare. Her French bulldog BiBi sashayed past my legs with god-knows-what clenched in its teeth. I had almost forgotten about the plan.

"Today's the day, huh?" Today was the day we pull off our biggest No Parents Allowed venture yet. The Blackened Exhibit.

Wow! Fifteen long weeks and we could finally afford transit tickets.

Fennick pushed his coke bottle glasses further up his nose and puffed out his chest a little. He always acts extra brave whenever Inertia is around.

7 pm marked the launch of the sorting rush. Everyone in the township gathered round the Council Labor Depot to turn-in production for credits. All except director Gabe, who never used credits. Rather, he traded long leaf-colored pieces of paper for the things and services he wanted. These notes had were rumored in the grapevine as carrying more weight than our credit system. Mom said I wasn't old enough to understand what it all meant, but I knew something wasn't right. All three of us knew.

"Shhhh lets go, c'mon guys, no time to fool around." Inertia waved us over into the thick bushes. Bibi scurried after us, lips flapping in the wind, oblivious to our schemes.

Fennick's tiny frame joined us, short of breath and clutching his chest dramatically. "That was a close one."

"Anyone spot us?" I asked

"No. I... I think we're good."

Mission 50% complete.

We boarded a trolley bound for the north side. We were looking for the host of today's Exhibit; the shady professor Balko. People said he knew of the world outside our island. Naturally, he had been banned from Everston for being “a naysaying zealot”. In the neighboring rebel villa of Bainbridge, Balko was the closest thing you could find to a prophet.

Before I sat down, a tall, strange man slipped an item in my hand, a bulky mask of some sort. This was our first time on the transit, so it was likely a normal procedure. Or at least we needed to act like it was.

The trolley buckled and bumped over the uneven pavement as it lurched forward. We had to split up as none of the rows had three empty seats. Every passenger on board was from a different part of the island than us. No one had a tag tattooed on the back of their hand like we did; the cerulean eagle and spear emblem of the Council of Everston. I pulled my sleeve up, trying to hide the symbol—but it was too late. The strange man from eelier who sat next to me, broke from his newspaper to take a gander at my hand before I could hide it. We shared an awkward glance, each waiting for the other to speak.

Nothing. Putting the paper aside, he pulled out his Halo device and began texting.

Dang it! Curse these reflexes

Inertia peered at me from a few rows ahead. She knew that our mission was starting to go south.

The conductor looked down at his dashboard with a concerned expression; something had caught his attention. He pulled a cone-like mic to his mouth. "Attention all passengers! We will be conducting a body search for passage markings. Please display your arms legs and hands when requested by staff."

I gave Inertia a cold stare. "I thought you had a plan!"

She shrugged, trying (and failing) to look nonchalant. Three men rose out of their seats, pulling out large shiny badges.

Crap! They're Rosers.

BiBi peaked her little head from inside Liberty's purse to survey the commotion. One by one, the federal officers went through each row, checking for markings. Markings that would not only get us kicked off the trolley, but shipped to a labor camp—or worse.

I could hear Fennick’s breathing reach panicky heights from a couple rows behind me. He was the next person to be searched. Suddenly, one of the rosers took something out of his pocket, a canister. Shedding his coat, he opened it, rolling it down the aisle. Nearly in tandem, Fennick, Liberty, and I slipped on our masks. The guy next to me smiled blankly before passing out from the fumes.

Within seconds, everyone on the trolley was asleep. As the trolley's emergency systems took control and slowed the vehicle, the three of us ran to the front, pried the doors open, and leapt out onto the grass. I opened my bag, scrambling to find Fennick's inhaler. He took 3 long breaths from it before tossing it aside.

"Oh. Oh my gahhhd. DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?"

We all looked at each other, bewildered. "We have to call someone, I think this was an attack. We have to call mom!" Everyone was against inciting the wrath of my mom, Sister Young. All the same, we knew that we were treading in dangerous waters.

"The gas," I remembered. "he had a container filled with some sort of gas,"

Inertia analyzed our masks. "Dende… that man who sat next to you. He only handed the three of us masks. He knew this was going to happen."

"Whatever’s going on, we need to bail quick."

I dug around in my bookbag. Only to find that everything inside was gone. That thief! He must have taken my stuff during the confusion . Everything was gone from my go-bag except a small object made of soft leather. I pulled it out.

"A black book, huh? I didn't know Dende reads up on the good word,” Inertia quipped.

At that moment, several internal alarm went off. "No Inertia, I don't…"

I pulled out the little black book to see that the front cover bore no title and no illustration. All I remember was thumbing the book open to the first page:

Life1Challenge1. Defeat the librarian. Find the Index. Unlock the Reward.

Almost as soon as I finished reading that line, the world itself disappeared, as if someone had powered down an old box tv. I felt nothing, heard nothing. Is this what death is like? I fought against the feeling, clinging to my consciousness.

But I couldn’t fight any longer. Everything went blank. Then nothingness.

My eyes leapt open as I sensed the smell of salt prickling the air. Something was cooking. Then I remembered, we never cooked at our house.

Was I daydreaming again?

I lifted my head off of what appeared to be a large work station. Under my puddle of drool was an unfamiliar book; a 2098 Yearbook to some private school. Within it, were class photos. Pictures of people I knew or recognized; Fennick, Inertia, even our school principle.

Wait... 2098!?

My mind slowly came to me. One by one, I spotted the faces of my close friends. The black book, the grass underneath my skin, the blazing sun was gone—they had all vanished.

Where am I? More importantly, who am I?

I began to panic,. pacing wildly around the room, searching for some indicator of where I was—and whose body I was in. Underneath me, the floorboards began to creak. I could tell there was a hallow space beneath. I bent down, slowly moving the column of wood to one side.

Struck with surprise, I dropped the board on the ground. It was a massive pile of the little green slips of money that the council members traded with each other to fund their luxurious lifestyles. My eyes widened and I inhaled sharply; there had to be millions of them. No, hundreds of millions.

This could be enough to pay off Inertia's debt. Forget debts… this payload and proof of its existence could liberate the entire island.

When I tried touching it, my hand felt like it had touched an iron wall. Some kind of field protected it. I closed the board and ran from the room, diving down a flight of stairs that seemed to go on forever. Finally reaching the bottom, I darted through the large French doors of the building and sprinted out to the wide front lawn.

"Where? Where am I?" I asked aloud. Lost in a new world.

Then I looked behind me.

I was standing on the lawn of a 6-story building. It was a huge Mega-mansion surrounded by palm trees and elegant gardens, bigger than a palace. I saw a name etched in gold over the stately red doors I had just burst through.

"The Fontaine Estate."

A heavy hand patted my shoulder as a large well-dressed man came into view. "Young master Fontaine, are you finished with today’s studies?"

I pinched myself hard, wishing this was all a dream and I'd wake up to Inertia and Fennick running their mouths. This was really happening. The challenge that appeared on the first page of that odd book shuttered in my mind.

An index of lives huh?

I relaxed my tightened fists. No way I was walking away from this. If this is all a game setup for me then joke's on them, I love games.

"My studies went swimmingly! I'm just on my way to run some errands for Dad. I'll be back in a jiffy

The well-dressed gatekeeper nodded while I walked off.

Challenge accepted.

science fiction
1

About the Creator

Jordan Young

Music lover, writer and techie are probably the three topics that best categorize me. I love writing and reading and discovering new ways of thinking and learning.

It's all about the journey!

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