“Seattle 2094”

Saturday, May 29, 2094

1. Breaking Free

(11:00 am)

The principal of The Kansas School of the Gifted motioned toward me, a small beckoning of the index finger. I swallowed nervously, an unavoidable lump growing in my throat. Butterflies were having a World War IV in my stomach. The podium suddenly seemed ominous, rising up far, far into the air and away. And yet, I found myself suddenly standing in front of the microphone, staring into the crowd of thousands of spectators, feeling every single pair of eyes upon me. They were all probably waiting impatiently for me to finish quickly so they could leave and get back to their jobs. Workaholics, they are.

At a loss of words, I tapped the microphone softly and cleared my throat. What was I supposed to say? Oh yes, my notes! With trembling hands, I pulled out my crumpled up notes from my graduating black gown pocket and nervously smoothed them out on the wooden podium.

Looking back up into the audience, I sought out a new face, yet familiar from all of the photos I’d seen: River. A tiny smile pulled up the corners of my lips and I began my speech with a bit more courage.

“Welcome to the graduation of the Class of 2094,” I said, my voice growing stronger with every passing syllable. “I am the Valedictorian, Madagascar Stone. I am deaf.” A few faces here and there assumed a surprised expression. “I was born profoundly deaf in 2077, and I still am deaf and will always be deaf...”

I continued, recounting the major events of my life leading up to my being at the top of the Class of 2094. I’d traveled overseas to study on my own at thirteen, published a book at fourteen, becoming the youngest deaf author, and flown to Moon Base 113 with a group of extremely intelligent scientists because I’d won the trip in a difficult essay competition involving ninety-two nations’ participation.

“Anyone can do anything as long as they set their hearts on their goals and strive for them. I know this is cheesy to many of you, and that you have heard this countless of times before—” I cast my classmates, who were standing in proud ranks behind me, a pointed look—“but it is truly important. Listen to your hearts, not the heart of someone else... Thank you.”

I stepped down from the podium and took a small bow. The audience erupted into a wave of ecstatic, loud applause. They all began standing up, row by row, and applauding endlessly. I grinned and felt someone jump onto my back, screeching.

“Oh my god! Maddie, we did it!” screamed a girl’s voice.

I laughed. "And so we did, Green!"

Green giggled joyously and leaped off my back. She grabbed the rim of her graduating cap and, with an excited whoop, threw it high into the air. My other classmates, thousands of them, followed suit. The sunny, blue sky was momentarily blotted out by an avalanche of black graduating caps. I grabbed my own and flung it as hard as I could into the air, watching it join the others gracefully. I felt so peaceful... I had graduated at last.

(6:18 pm)

"You can't go." Dad was firm.

"Why?" I wailed, flailing my hands in the air. "I graduated!"

"Being out of high school has nothing to do with it. You are not ready. Just be happy I'm allowing you to go to New York for college."

"But, Dad—!"

"No buts, or I'll change my mind and you will have to change colleges to one that is in this state." He resumed chewing his mashed potatoes.

I stared. Angry tears welled up in my eyes and I tried to blink them back. How could he do this to me? I was practically an adult now. I didn't understand.

“What?” I said in disbelief.

“You may go when you turn eighteen, but otherwise, while you are still under my roof, you will follow my rules,” he said. “I am only allowing you to go to New York because you need your education. I see the value in you.” He swallowed his food and reached for more. “Discussion closed.”

I threw down my spoon and it clattered to my half-full plate. My chair nearly got knocked over as I forcefully thrust it back, tripping over my own feet in anger. I stormed up the stairs to my room, where I plunked myself onto my bed huffily. This was so unfair! He couldn’t do this to me—I’d already gone to a lot of different places on my own—what was different about this?! Was it because—

brring!

I quickly removed my Sidekick XVI from my pocket and curiously checked who'd text messaged me. Only two people I knew still occasionally used the old-fashioned text messages. It was either River or...

Green: mads mads! ombz tell me how it was

I sighed and replied quickly, my thumbs flying over the little, lighted-up violet/black keyboard.

Maddie: well he said no. what did you expect

Green: aw damn

Maddie: yeah soo...

Green: well this calls for more drastic measures

Maddie: more drastic measures? oh no, not these ideas again

Green: YES THE IDEAS AGAIN!! MY GENIUS BRAIN IS BACK INTO BUSINESS.

Maddie: lol ok what is it

Green: see, ur dad isn't ready to let you go, so, remember the fantasy river told us abt?

Maddie: no! I can't do that, it'd kill him!

Green: simple, leave a note

Maddie: but think of the trouble when I get back home

Green: ur out of high school. get a life!!

Maddie: -sigh-

Green: well, decide now or I'm leaving without you.

Maddie: no no I'll do it

Green outlined the entire, but small Plan in detail and I was supposed to carry it out that very night. Half of me was eager but the other half was wishing Dad had allowed me to leave freely instead of making more stress for himself. He has a bad heart. I didn’t want to put a burden on him; worrying about whether I’d be okay, and furious over how I’d disobeyed him.

Six hours remained before the Plan was to be carried out. Six hours to pack, to write the note, and do everything that would take me a week! I started to panic. I had to find a way to get my start-up cord back—I was grounded from it for a month because I stayed up too late working, and it was in his bedroom, hidden somewhere in his closet. If I couldn’t find it, I wouldn’t be able to write the note! And if I couldn’t write the note, Dad probably would kill himself over worry!

"Calm down, Maddie," I muttered, staring unfocusedly at walls of my room. They were originally orange but only a few patches showed through the array of black gauze and many posters of astronomy and frames of my artwork. I’ve always had a vivid interest in abstract art.

First of all, I’d better set to work on that letter. I very well couldn’t enter Dad’s room when he was asleep to rummage around in his things. I might be deaf but he certainly wasn’t and would hear every single breath I took.

Gingerly, I opened my bedroom door and peeked out into the hallway. I could see the glow of the kitchen light down near the landing. He was still up, good. He liked to be in bed quite early, around 7 pm. Incredulous for this decade, I know, but he’s an early riser, too. I, on the other hand, enjoy staying up late and sleeping late. Dad’s pattern was simply way too much work, although I got the same darned hours of sleep with my method!

I left my bedroom, tiptoed to Dad’s bedroom, and opened the door, wincing as it squeaked a little. Our doors needed to be oiled! At least his door wasn’t as bad as my sister’s—she’s gone off to college, finishing her third year—whose door screamed when you pushed it open a mere inch.

Inside my father’s bedroom, I had to push aside a clothes hamper of clothes my mother had washed earlier to get to the walk-in closet. Dad may be strict but he procrastinates things a lot. He has such a long list of tasks that it probably couldn’t be helped. Mom would end up putting his own clothes away for him later tonight after she arrived home from her sister’s house in the Cities.

I rummaged around in piles of neatly folded shirts on a closet shelf and smiled when my hand touched something long and plastic. I dragged it out of the pile and quickly tiptoed out of his room. Carrying the gray start-up cord over to my computer, I quickly plugged it in and turned my computer on and typed the short note.

(11:11 pm)

Eerie silence swept over my room momentarily, bringing a blue tint to the walls. My maps of the craters of the moon, including the moon bases, glowed softly in the blue darkness. I heard the roar of the vehicle outside before I saw it. SHIT. He was early! Shit, shit, shit! I frantically ran back and forth, grabbing up things, hoping they were what I needed, and throwing them violently into my school backpack. I’d emptied it earlier in the week, hoping to toss it away for I thought I’d never need it again—I wasn’t about to lug around an old backpack at college.

My walls began to vibrate from the closeness of the brown, run-down, rusty van hovering outside my window. My high-tech cochlear implant went flying into its box and then into the bag as a pale white face appeared in front of the window, hands flying in sign language.

“Hurry!” River exclaimed.

I nodded angrily, zipping my bag closed, only to reopen it to put in a couple books. I couldn’t live without books!

"What the heck?" my dad yelled in confusion from his room, his voice sounding layered with fatigue.

Bang! Bang-bang-bang! Bang-bang!

I kicked at the rope ladder, trying to free my trapped leg. What an idiot I am! I accidentally opened the rope ladder right there in my room, and it fell to the floor. And, naturally, I had to tangle up in it! There was no time to make mistakes! Dad was already at my door, trying to knock it down.

"Hurry!" screamed Green, her medium-length and thin brown hair whipping around in the sudden burst of strong wind as she poked her head out of the backseat window.

I abandoned the rope ladder and tried to climb out of the window, with the rope ladder and all stuck to one foot. Let’s hope I didn’t fall straight down to the ground and be crushed to pulp all because of the ladder that was supposed to “save innocent lives from disasters.”

A loud, heart-stopping bang shook the house behind me. Uh-oh. The door was down. I had one leg out of the window when I felt Dad grab my other leg with a death grip.

"Let go!" I yowled, kicking.

Dad looked beyond furious. Suddenly, I felt small and scared, perched halfway out of the window on my stomach. Should I forget it and stay? I didn't want to hurt the father who had been so good to me all these years, helping me with schoolwork, my problems, and only caring a bit too much about having me leave him! He didn't deserve this...

I almost ducked back inside out of guilt, but then River, who’d reappeared in the open doorway of the brown van, held up this weird gun thing and pointed it at us. My eyes widened. Was he going to shoot my dad?

Dad dragged me backwards a few inches. I tightened my grip on the windowsill and glared up at River for help and began yelling, but it was all in vain for River was also deaf, but Green heard it and started signing frantically. I didn’t get a thing she said. Then River turned on the gun, and it sucked me right out of Dad’s grip and I whooshed up to the van.

“Whoops!” River laughed apologetically, tugging on the suctioner, in which my nose was stuck. My eyes bulged as I scrabbled my fingers on the metal tube, trying to remove it in vain.

“River! Turn it off, idiot!” Green admonished from behind me.

He shut it off, obviously biting back an amused laugh. I rubbed my nose, shooting River a disgusted look. It hurt like hell, and that is not a euphemism.

The van door was still open. I went to close it, but stopped. My father had the biggest betrayed expression I have ever seen, his hands slowly reaching up into the air toward me, as if he could snatch me up from the van from this distance. He watched his youngest daughter fly away with what appeared to be complete strangers, choosing them over him . . . It broke my heart.