No Passengers Beyond This Point(34)
It feels like a spirit rally—like I’m attending the basketball playoffs at the high school. Only then I’m excited to be there and now I just want to grab India and get away from all of this.
There is a swarm of security people in carts and on foot, plus the welcomer people in blue tunics, and others in yellow and green and lavender tunics with suns and moons on their badges. Mouse and I walk by a choir of blue-tunic welcomers. They are practicing harmonizing a chanting song for the new arrival. A woman in a yellow-sun tunic cups her hand behind her ear and points to the sopranos to sing louder.
“Jew-elll, Jew-elll, you so ruuu-elll,” the choir sings. “Cooo-elll, coo-elll, that’s our Jew-elll.”
“How are we going to find India?” Mouse asks as we wade through the packed crowd. “What color is she wearing again?”
“Blue,” I tell her as we climb up high in the amphitheater, combing the crowd for a beautiful girl with long, brown straight hair.
“Maybe she’s not here,” Mouse says in a small voice.
“We’ll find her. It’s like playing I Spy, Mouse, and you’re good at I Spy.”
“I spy a lot of people who aren’t India,” Mouse grumbles.
“Look for her hair,” I suggest.
“I’m looking for her hair. Bing is looking for her hair too. Hey wait! There she is! There! There!” she squeals, pointing down to the pit, where a girl with long dark hair and a blue welcomer tunic is unfurling a banner that says: Welcome, Jewel. The way she tosses her hair, this is definitely India.
“Why would she want to be a welcomer?” I ask.
“I told you they wanted her,” Mouse says. “Everybody wants India.”
“Careful of your arm, it’s awful crowded down there,” I tell Mouse.
“Bing will go first to get people out of the way,” she informs me, holding her arm carefully.
It’s slow going once we get to the pit, but Mouse is so small she ducks under and through. Even with a broken arm, she’s fearless. That’s how badly she wants to see India.
India is surrounded by girls in blue tunics. They are all holding hands and laughing. India looks like she fits right in—like these girls are all good friends of hers. How could India make friends so fast?
A man with red blond hair, freckles, and a yellow-sun vest is talking. The name on his sun badge is Laird. “Project that love outward toward the new citizen. Wrap your heart around them. Make them feel—”
“India!” Mouse pushes in between them, holding her arm protectively.
“Oh, hi.” India smiles an easy smile, as if she isn’t the least bit surprised to see us. “I got a job,” she says, her voice radiating excitement.
“Who have we here?” Laird raises his silky eyebrows at India. He takes my hand and pumps it. He tries to shake Mouse’s hand, but she won’t give it to him.
“This is my brother and—” India tells Laird as the big screens go dark and the first flashing countdown reverberates out of the speakers. When the crowd sees this, they go wild, hooting and hollering and jumping up and down as the numbers flash in neon yellow.
Laird—his hands a-flutter—streaks over to another welcomer, to give her last-minute instructions.
“India!” Mouse is so excited to see India, she seems not to even hear the deafening roar of the crowd. “Give us your twig puzzle, then Mr. Chuck will come and take us home.”
“Look.” India points to the screen, which shows the skywritten messages for Jewel. “Jewel’s coming. I don’t want to miss her.”
“Jewel? What do you care about Jewel? You’ve never even met her,” I say.
“India! Don’t be crazy!” Mouse shouts. “We have to go home!”
“No, wait, look!” India’s eyes are charged. Countdown minute nine flashes on.
“Nine,” the crowd shouts in unison, their voices exploding from their chests.
This is wacko. We finally find India and she’s obsessed with a complete stranger. She hasn’t even said anything about Mouse’s arm.
“India, come on!” I shout.
“No Finn, listen! Do you know how hard it is to get this job?”
“What job?”
“Welcomer, can’t you see?” She fingers her blue tunic. India, it says in the same handwritten embroidery all the Falling Bird uniforms have.
“What kind of a job is that?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s a great job. Thousands of people wanted it. They were standing in a line two blocks long, but Laird picked me. He loves the way I sing!” Her eyes are open wide, drinking it all in. “And you know what else? They said I could work up to a cool mom position someday. Then I could live in that great house all the time.”