Chapters 1 and 2

Dara stared at the red embers of the fire, lost in thought. A log cracked and popped, and as it did, the sound jerked her back to the present. If she wasn’t careful, her thoughts ran as free as unbridled horses. It gave her a secret pleasure to wonder about the world. Why did the fire consume the logs when they were dry, but not when they were wet? Why did her hot breath ignite the fire like a dragon? Were dragons real? Her cousin, a higher station than she was, once told her a story about a dragon that lived in a cave far away. The way he described it, it sounded like a fire-breathing cow, but her family’s cow seemed more like a dumb rock. “Stop it!” she told herself quietly. These mysteries were not for her to know. At least, her family couldn’t afford for her to learn the answers. 

 

She looked around. Her father sat next to her, nursing a second can of beer and humming a song. His beard used to be dark and full, but now she could see strands of gray throughout. To her left was Thomas, her little brother. He was curled away from her, but she knew he was asleep by the way his back rose and fell slowly. Occasionally his foot would twitch. Her older sister Genevieve and their mama were in the house cleaning up after dinner. 

 

Dara probably should be helping them, but just like Dara had the habit of letting her mind run free, so too her father had the habit of letting his words flow freely once he had a few drinks. He was one place she could curate information for free. 

 

“Papa?” she asked softly, careful not to disturb Thomas. 

 

He stopped humming. “What is it?” 

 

“Are you sure we can’t afford just one more vial of knowledge for me? I’m sure I could work more hours for Mr. Johnson and pay you back.” 

 

“No, Dara. We’ve been over this before. With three kids, we’re tapped out. We’ve tried our best, but it’s time you all start looking to work more and learn less.” 

 

She sighed. He could see disappointment flash across her face, and it hurt him deep down. In a frustrated tone, he said, “You know, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Them vials were supposed to be revolutionary. When they came up with the idea, I was excited. It wasn’t going to be like my time for you kids. Y’all were going to have a great education without the pain I experienced.”

 

“Pain? What do you mean? How can learning be painful?” She shifted her body so that the heat from the fire could reach the other side.  

 

He gave a half-hearted laugh and took another sip. “Back in my day, we all went to school. Day in, and day out, we sat in hard chairs and tried to understand as much of the world as we could. Some people enjoyed it, like you probably would. But for me? Gosh. It felt more like hard labor than education.”

 

Dara tried to understand, but she couldn’t. Why would anyone not want to learn? Or struggle with learning? 

 

He continued, “Then came the day everything changed. A guy by the name of Josef Dameen… or maybe it was John Dameen… Heck, I didn’t care what his name was. All I cared about was the fact that I didn’t have to spend my life in school. He discovered a way to bottle all the things you need to know. And here we are.”

 

She knew by the way he rushed ahead that he was ready to change the subject. Just like eight-year-old Thomas couldn’t resist lighting sticks on fire just to watch them burn, she couldn’t resist pushing a little further into the subject. 

 

“Here we are? Papa, you’re skipping parts. You have to be. How could you spend half your life in school, and now there aren’t any schools? What happened to them all?” 

 

“Oh, Dara. It doesn’t matter now. It is what it is. It’s best we just make the best of life.”

 

“C’mon. Just tell me. What happened after he made that discovery?”

 

With a resigned sigh, her father tossed another log on the fire. She watched as the flames blossomed and then settled back into a small, flickering pattern.

 

“The country was head over heels with excitement. Back then some people learned easier than others. It was work. Now, thanks to that scientist, each kid could just take a vial of knowledge, and just like that, he’d know what he needed to know. No longer would anyone struggle with learning. Kids could experience life outside of being shut in a classroom all day, roaming and exploring, and just being kids. We’d be the smartest country in the world, and everyone would prosper.”

 

Dara picked at the hole in her jeans and glanced at her worn out flip-flops. She picked up a stick and began to break it into small pieces. 

 

“It sure doesn’t look like everyone prospered.”

 

“Well, it was a good idea while it lasted. But people don’t often steward good ideas well. Pretty soon it got to be like a warzone. People were hoarding certificates of provision for the vials, and instead of giving them to their kids, they’d sell them for drugs or food, or really anything they wanted. There were lots of muggings and thefts in those days- anything to get your hands on a certificate.”

 

“Wow. That sounds a little scary.”

 

“It was. It really was. Thankfully the government stepped in and took control of the certification system. And here we are. I’m going to get Thomas in to bed before your mother starts lecturing me. Make sure the fire’s out before you come in.” In a swift motion, he picked Thomas up with strong arms, and without waking him, walked away in the darkness towards the house. 

 

Dara tossed the pieces of the stick into the fire and watched them ignite. Oh, to be able to study unhindered! Now, the cost of a vial of knowledge was more than her dad earned in a month. Several of her friends didn’t even want to hang out with her anymore. They knew more than she did, and it was a crime for her to study or speak above her station, and they were tired of holding back information and censoring their conversations. What she wouldn’t give to swallow as many vials of knowledge as she could get her hands on! Too bad she didn’t live in the old days, where you could learn without the vials. 

 

Suddenly, an idea washed over her like the warmth of the fire. “Or maybe I could…” she whispered to herself with a grin.

 

 

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Dara sighed a deep, frustrated sigh as she swept the back storage room in Mr. Johnson’s store. Few customers were coming in these days, and he was running out of tasks for her to complete. She just knew that inevitably he was also going to run out of money to pay her, and she would be out of work. Then how would she fill the long hours of her days? Most likely feeling guilty for not being able to help her family financially anymore. 

 

A few months had passed since Dara decided to take her education into her own hands. She started slowly at first, innocently asking questions of her former friends in higher stations. She carefully varied who she talked to, so it didn’t seem like she was educating herself. However, just as before, they tired of censoring their conversations and would make excuses to leave her and move onto another activity. Now, it seemed in every area of her life she was stuck. 

 

She sat down on an overturned box and surveyed her work thus far. She’d straightened the dusty boxes on the shelves, swept years-old dirt into a pile, and that was about all she could do. Grime coated the walls, making the green look more like an avocado a few days past its freshness. Perhaps she could get a bucket of water and scrub the walls? It wasn’t really necessary; customers didn’t see this back room, but at least it would keep her busy and earning a paycheck. 

 

As she carried the bucket of water, it sloshed on her legs. “Great. Just great,” she thought. She never could stand the feeling of wet fabric against her skin. She carefully wrung out the rag and climbed up on the box and started scrubbing to the right of the shelves where the wall met the ceiling. Her work was tedious but effective. She had to continuously climb up and down, rinsing out the rag and starting a new path down the wall. As she stretched to reach the corner, she lost her footing and the box slammed onto its side. 

 

“Oof!” she cried, as she fell onto the floor, not before trying to grab one of the shelves to steady herself. As she lay on the floor, she realized she had torn the shelf from its bracket, and it was hanging precariously over her head. “No, no, no, no, no! Stay right there!” she exclaimed, as if it could hear and obey. 

 

Just like the rest of her luck, the boxes on the shelf started sliding to the right, and one after the other, fell onto the floor exploding in a pile of extra parts and knickknacks long forgotten. Dara stood up, dusted her pants off, and started putting things back. Suddenly, her eyes rested upon something she’d only heard about. A book, slightly worn, titled The Norton Introduction to Literature, was lying partially covered in dust. Without much thought she slipped it under her shirt and walked out into the front of the store. 

 

“Mr. Johnson? I need to run home for a few minutes. Don’t worry about the mess in the store room. I’ll be back to clean it up.” Mr. Johnson barely lifted his grizzled face from the small tv screen he was watching as he sat at the empty counter. 

 

Dara walked quickly down the street, doing her best to seem inconspicuous, willing her feet to move one after the other. 

“Hey! You there!” a gruff voice shouted from behind her.

 

Slowly, Dara turned around, arms folded carefully in front of her chest. Behind her stood a police officer looking at her with narrowed eyes.