Darren

Things were certainly different after the night the four of them decided to explore Eternal Forest. The change in them was remarkable; each was different in their own unique way. Hannah had become a great deal more introverted, Miranda was a wreck, Lisa had taken it upon herself to help Miranda through her distress and Kevin withdrew himself from us completely. The day after they’d returned they asked me to meet them at the beach and told me all about what they’d gone through. It was a fascinating story; imagining what it must have been like to be there I understood why they had all been so affected by the experience and why they were reacting to it in such different ways. Kevin was coming to terms with being proven right having been dismissed as crazy by everyone but Hannah for so many years; Hannah was struggling with deciding whether to continue believing in Prospera or not; Miranda had had her whole world shattered and Lisa was the only one not so absorbed in her own thoughts that she was able to recognize how desperately Miranda needed help and was giving it to her as a way of dealing with her own feelings.

I wondered how I would have felt had I been there, if I would have been able to digest the knowledge of a ghost town existing just outside Prospera without it affecting me as much as it had my friends. I too had doubts and suspicions about Prospera, which—apart from what I’d shared with Miranda when she came to see me in the library and with Kevin whenever we talked—I’d never shared with anyone. Prospera was clearly more than a haven that was established to be a safe refuge from the nuclear war that had left the rest of the world in ruin. There were things at play here that went beyond the objective of creating a safe place for people to live. Prospera had a definite set of mechanics to it that were designed for the continued achievement of some very specific goals. There were those who knew what those mechanics and goals were; undoubtedly the members of the Ethics Committee were some of those people, as well as certain members of the Education Committee. I was certain that the knowledge we were taught was carefully selected and taught to us in a way that ensured the achievement of those goals. I respected Kevin for his refusal to accept Prospera as it appeared and I admired his dogged pursuit for answers. I didn’t have his courage, and even though it was possible his curiosity would lead to him facing serious consequences someday I still wished I was more like him, because I knew that I would go on for the rest of my days questioning Prospera without ever seeking out the answers.

Due to Miranda being unable to perform in the concert because of her inability to get her nerves under control the concert of Bruch and Dvorak that had been scheduled for that Friday night had to be cancelled, which set in motion a series of events that were truly bizarre. Kevin was informed that he was being removed from the stables and would be spending more time at school with extra lessons added on to compensate for the time he’d spent working in the stables. Lisa was assigned to work after school in the village clinic as an assistant and Hannah’s workload was increased. They were all also given extra duties to perform in the village in the evenings. Lisa was to assist with the lighting of the lanterns throughout the village, Kevin would help with the transportation of firewood to the various pick-up points in all four of the residential areas, and Hannah would be working with her mother in the library. Miranda wasn’t given any additional tasks, and was told to spend as much time at home as she needed to recuperate. It was obvious that the objective of these changes was to keep them too occupied to spend much time together and that since I was the only one not placed on a revised schedule this was all related to the night they went into the forest. The four of them weren’t the only ones who had their schedules amended. Around twenty five other students were issued revised schedules, a clear attempt to conceal the fact that my friends were being targeted. We weren’t fooled by this move, and in the few hours a week that we were able to meet we discussed all that was happening and all of us—bar Miranda—understood that we were being kept apart.

“They know about us, they know what we were doing that night; it’s the only explanation,” Lisa said one evening when we all took a walk to the beach.

“Maybe that’s not the case; you three aren’t the only ones that have been given extra responsibilities; you’re reading too much into this,” Miranda said, looking to prevent another discussion about the secret workings of Prospera.

“We’re not reading too much into this,” Hannah responded, not interested in sparing Miranda from any further anxiety, “We are definitely the reason for this; the question is given what we know why haven’t they taken stronger action against us?”

“My guess is that it’s because of you,” Kevin said to her.

“Me? Why me?”

“Your grandfather’s the head of the Ethics Committee, he’s getting older, you’ve been selected to be a future member of the Ethics Committee; you’re probably going to take over the position someday, making you too valuable for them to take strong action against.”

“You think the plan is for me to take over as the head of the Ethics Committee someday?”

“The head of the Ethics Committee before your grandfather was your great grandfather; I’d say the chances of you being given the position in the future are quite high.”

“That kind of nepotism is not what Prospera is about, absolute equality is the core founding principle of Prospera.”

“If Kevin is right about this then it means that Hannah’s family is probably the most responsible for the establishment of Prospera,” I said.

“Good thing we’re all friends with her, she may have unknowingly saved all of our lives,” Lisa said dryly.

“Do you know what this means Hannah? It means that one day you’re going to know all of the secrets of this place, and it’s going to be up to you to decide what to do with them,” Kevin said to her, causing Hannah to realize for the first time the seriousness of the position for which she had been selected.

“What if that’s too much responsibility for me? What if I make the wrong decision and do a lot of damage?”

“I’m sure part of the reason they picked you is because they were confident you would make the right decisions,” Kevin said, looking to reassure her.

“But you just said that the only reason they picked me is because I’m the committee head’s granddaughter.”

“I didn’t say that was the only reason. The position is far too important for them to assign it solely on those grounds.”

“Going back to what Lisa said, it begs the question of what would have happened to us were it not for our connection to Hannah, and is it right that we’ve been spared from a worse fate because of her?” I asked.

“I don’t think we have been spared, not yet anyway. It could be they’ve decided to observe and evaluate us for a while before they make their final decision about us,” Kevin responded.

“Who’s ‘they’? Would you guys listen to yourselves? You sound crazy! You have your schedules changed and you start talking about people wanting to kill us and Hannah becoming the most important person in the village. You’re reading too much into this one small thing! Why can’t you just leave things alone?!” Miranda said hysterically, bringing an end to our conversation.

Seeing what the trip to the forest had done to Miranda’s mental state we had all developed tremendous sympathy for her, none of us more so than Lisa. Whenever Miranda had one of her outbursts Lisa was quick to go to her and comfort her and calm her, as she did then. The strain they were all under was becoming increasingly apparent, not just their psychological strain but also the physical strain they were under from performing all of the additional duties they had been assigned. I felt terrible for my friends and what they were going through and for them having to keep all that they were feeling to themselves when they were around others in the village so as not to be the recipients of any unwanted attention. How many others like them were there in the village? People walking around with doubts and fears that they were forced to repress out of fear of the repercussions they might face from one of the committees. Just what was beneath the surface of Prospera that was so dangerous that the committees were justified in their utilization of secret methods to keep it contained beneath the surface?

The methods employed for performing functions in Prospera were all quite simple: horses and bicycles were used for transport, horses and rudimentary tools were used for agriculture and pigeons delivered messages for people. It was what went unseen that one had to struggle to make sense of. The ultimate goal, I believed, was to prevent Prospera from spiralling into the chaos that had driven the people of the outside world to destroy themselves with nuclear weapons. To accomplish that goal a complicated set of constraints had been designed which were rigorously enforced. It was in that system that we were asked to place our faith, to believe in the promise that as citizens of Prospera we would never be the victims of such senseless mass violence. For people like Miranda that promise was enough for them to wholeheartedly embrace Prospera and ensconce themselves in the guaranteed safety and sense of belonging that Prospera bestowed upon its citizens. What did that mean for people like Lisa, Hannah, Kevin and I? Did we not belong in Prospera? Was there no place for us here? If so, then what were we to do? Where were we to go?

Our futures in Prospera were unclear. Not possessing the same level of belief and trust in Prospera as others our places here were anything but certain. We were outsiders in a village established to protect people from the outside. We couldn’t lay claim to the same sense of guaranteed safety that those who had absolute faith in Prospera could. What did it say about Prospera that as twelve year olds we were living in fear of being the victims of grave consequences for the crime of being too inquisitive? And how was it possible for us to be the citizens Prospera wanted us to be when we were having these thoughts? Was it inevitable that we would have action taken against us by the governing authorities?

I knew that I wasn’t the only one having these thoughts. Looking around at my friends I could see that they were all struggling with the same emotions that Miranda was incapable of containing, and with no one to turn to but each other it was imperative that we continued to develop our skills at hiding our emotions, for all we knew our survival depended on it.

The children at 14 years of age

Hannah

All of the teenagers in the village were required to participate in the collection of the resources that our village depended upon. The point of this exercise was for us to develop an appreciation for the work that went into providing people with everything that they needed. I was going to be picking the cotton that was used to make most of the fabric that we used in Prospera, Lisa would be working in the orchards picking fruit; Miranda would be helping to collect flowers from the flower fields that were given to people to brighten up their homes and Darren was going to be milking cows. We were all worried about Kevin. He was going to be going out on a fishing boat. Our fear was that it wouldn’t be long before Kevin went out to sea one day and didn’t return.

Following the changes to our schedules that occurred subsequent to our excursion into the forest Kevin had been removed from the stables and returned to school full time, an intriguing decision by the Education Committee. They may have thought that they’d acted too hastily in expelling him to the stables and had aroused too much suspicion with their decision. They also could have decided that it was foolish of them to waste his intelligence by having him work in the stables and that in was in the best interests of Prospera for them to find a way to integrate him into the important functions of the village. Or maybe they just wanted him to be in a place where they’d be able to easily keep an eye on him.

The past two years had seen us having to adapt to great change in our lives. Not only were we still dealing with the fallout from our excursion into the forest, we were also forced to cope with a much heavier workload as we had reached an age at which we were to start developing a sense of independence in preparation for us taking on a wide range of important responsibilities when we turned twenty. During this time my relationship with my mother had undergone a transformation. No longer feeling that I could trust her I was communicating with her much less. This state of affairs between us wasn’t easy to live with, as the preparations for my future position on the Ethics Committee were growing more serious. The books I was reading were increasingly challenging; the ideas and philosophies they contained within them that I had to give my opinion on left me feeling uneasy. One book in particular, 1984 by George Orwell, depicted a society in which people are constantly being watched and made to believe the world they live in is radically different from reality through a consistent campaign of misinformation. I was asked to write two essays about the book, one about what I thought of “The Party’s” motives and actions and one about the citizens of Airstrip One and what “The Party’s” method of governance meant for them. I realized, not far into the book, that I was reading it because of the parallels that existed between it and Prospera. But what was I to say about these parallels? Was I expected to defend the necessity of some of those commonalities that I’d perceived or express discomfort with them and denounce them? Unsure of what side I was supposed to come down on I wrote essays that were critical of some aspects of Orwell’s Big Brother state and approving of some others. Only there was nothing about the mechanics of the Big Brother state that I was comfortable with. The people had no freedom and lived lives of poverty, ignorance and suffering. The one area where there were no commonalities between Prospera and Airstrip One was that unlike Airstrip One, Prospera was thriving and had been for generations, giving rise to the question of whether the problem was the ideas they shared or the implementation of those ideas.

The day that my mother and I sat down for my first lesson after we’d been informed of my selection for a future position on the Ethics Committee she told me that the decisions I would face as a member of the committee would be extremely difficult decisions that I would have to resolve by weighing my own internal conflicts against the much larger picture of Prospera as a whole, its future and that of its people. None of it was going to be easy, just as it hadn’t been easy for me to think about the parallels between Airstrip One and Prospera.

My mother didn’t comment on the essays that I’d written, which came as no surprise to me. I understood that my uncoerced thoughts were being evaluated as indicators of the suitability of my personality to the job of being a member of the Ethics Committee. The silence between my mother and me in all other areas of our lives wasn’t only the product of her loss of my trust. She had also been maintaining something of a distance from me, beginning not long after the night we’d gone into the forest. With everything that had happened since that night it was impossible for us to go on believing that nobody knew about what we’d done. We were all operating on the likely assumption that we hadn’t gone undiscovered that night, which made us feel perpetually afraid and paranoid. If the governing authorities disapproved of what we’d done as an intolerably subversive act why hadn’t they acted yet? Apart from the change in our schedules and Kevin’s return to life as a student there’d been no actions taken by any of the committees that were sufficiently out of the ordinary to arouse suspicion. There was my mother’s coldness toward me which, though I strongly suspected was because she knew we’d gone into the forest, I couldn’t definitively say was the reason for it. Nevertheless, that my mother would adopt a different approach with me because she knew something that concerned me that she wouldn’t share with me only made me trust her that much less.

We were all happy to have Kevin back in school with us full time. His ability to notice things that the rest of us might miss made his presence reassuring, and I liked being able to talk with him without having to go all the way to the stables to do so. Since realizing that what I felt for Kevin was love his physical proximity came to mean a great deal more to me, as challenging as it was for me to be around him without revealing my feelings. The consequences if you were caught being romantically involved with someone before the age of eighteen was an appearance before the Committee on Harmonious Community Co-habitation, a group of senior Prospera officials whose identities were kept secret by the piece of white fabric that covered their faces and the written notes with which they communicated that prevented their voices from being heard. None of us knew what punishments they’d handed down previously for the offence and without any punishment guidelines putting yourself in a position to be on the receiving end of one was something we all avoided. For a brief period I toyed with the idea of using the protected status that Darren had suggested I might have to get away with seeing Kevin before the age when we were allowed to see each other. Such a show of disregard for the rules, I realized instantly, would not be tolerated. Then there was the additional complication of not knowing if Kevin felt the same way about me as I did about him. Nothing about his behaviour toward me suggested that he did, but then you could say the same about my behaviour toward him. I doubted that this was due to him working to keep his feelings from manifesting in any form that could draw unwanted attention to him. It wasn’t Kevin’s style to regulate his behaviour to appease our superiors, certainly not when something as big as giving expression to profound feelings he had was involved. Could he have changed without me knowing it? He’d spoken of being okay with working in the stables and enjoying the peace of it, the sincerity of such statements I never believed. With his intelligence he must have been grateful to be back in school and might have decided against doing anything that might jeopardize the place to which he had been returned.

Kevin had undergone a dramatic change in the aftermath of our excursion into Eternal Forest. Having obtained the proof he’d been seeking for so long he appeared to have lost an essential part of himself. Perhaps the discovery of what he’d been searching for his whole life had robbed him of his sense of purpose, perhaps he felt guilty for what the consequences of that night had been, particularly for Miranda. Or maybe he was afraid that us being discovered in the forest meant that his days were numbered, that, like Tom, he would soon be another mysterious death. If that fear wasn’t baseless then I had very little time left to let him know how I felt about him, and that meant once again disregarding the rules of Prospera.

I needed to let him know how I felt about him without my actions alerting the governing authorities to the fact that something significant had occurred between me and Kevin that merited looking into. The perfect opportunity to do so would be during the annual month-long camping trip we took to the cabins that were located on the other side of a rock formation that separated the campsite from the rest of Prospera. Getting there required us to walk through a ravine between Guardian Mountain and the rock formation. This camping trip was another exercise intended to strengthen our sense of independence and self-sufficiency. During our high school years we went there for one month every year and had to fend entirely for ourselves, only being allowed to return to the village to collect food once a day or in the event of an emergency. If I told him during this time when we were cut off from the village we’d have plenty of time to adjust to what might happen between us before it was time to return to the village.

Having decided that it was during this Prospera tradition that I would tell Kevin how I felt about him, the day when we would be leaving for the camping trip couldn’t arrive soon enough.

Miranda

This year’s camping trip would be our second. I was dreading it, having had a terrible time at the first one. It had been less than a year since the night we’d ventured into Eternal Forest and after just two days in that isolated place I asked to return to the village and my parents. My request was granted. Lisa asked if she could return as well to be with me. Her request was denied.

I had resolved to try and get through the camping trip this time, and to get through it without having to rely on Lisa too much. For two years the support that I’d gotten from Lisa had been unwavering as I’d struggled to overcome my anxiety from coming face to face with the truth that Kevin had been right all along. That night in the forest had the profound effect on me that it did because I loved Prospera the way I knew it and didn’t want to think about it being the place Kevin said it was. The idea that there was more to Prospera in addition to that deserted village that was being kept from us because it wasn’t consistent with the utopia we were made to believe Prospera was troubled me to no end. My idea of Prospera had been transformed from one of goodness and honesty into a darker image of lies and deceit. I couldn’t keep myself together thinking that I was living in a place that I could no longer trust I was safe in, surrounded by people whom I used to think I need not fear that I now needed to always be on guard against.

Only my friends brought me a sense of stability. They visited me often and stayed for an amount of time that I knew was inconvenient for them given how many responsibilities they had. Kevin visited often, which surprised me. It wasn’t like him to take such an interest in someone who wasn’t Hannah. The time he spent with me wasn’t rich in conversation; Kevin had trouble making small talk with people and most of the time he spent with me was spent in silence. There were only two things Kevin was able to really talk about: his conspiracy theories (which could no longer be considered so) and Hannah. It was clear from the way he talked about Hannah that she occupied a place in his life that was separate from all else (whether or not he loved her I couldn’t be sure). Hannah being the only real point of connection between us I constantly steered us in that direction and from there we’d veer into other areas of conversation. We talked about how things might be with Hannah as the head of the Ethics Committee, if she would bring an end to some of the secrecy and institute change or if she would maintain the status quo. Kevin told me about the jobs that they all had, that the girls were enjoying theirs while he and Darren ended every day tired and smelling. I asked him if he was afraid to be working on a fishing boat given the men that had been lost at sea and he answered that he had no choice but to watch his back and hope that he would be okay.

Kevin’s visits were out of a sense of guilt he felt over the fractured state of my mind which was the product of the night we went into the forest, which was his idea. I could’ve said something to try and relieve him of his guilt so he wouldn’t feel the need to keep visiting me but the truth was that even though his visits involved a great deal of awkwardness between us I appreciated his company. He was one of only four people I could trust and of those four he was the one I trusted the most because he’d been right all along. His visits made me feel safe; I had no desire to free him from the obligation he seemed to feel he had to me.

I was a burden on my friends; I hadn’t taken such leave of my mind that I was incapable of seeing that. I wasn’t about to push them away though, without them visiting me every day it would only be a matter of time before I was consumed by fear and paranoia and turned into a person that did not exist in Prospera: someone incapable of being productive and unwilling to be social.

Kevin had often talked about identifiers, traits that he believed the people who suffered mysterious deaths possessed that were contrary to what a Prospera citizen was supposed to embody, traits that had made them targets. Fearful of becoming one of those targets I was determined to show that I was putting my anxiety problems behind me. That started with me showing that I could manage on my own for a month during our annual camping trip.

We left at noon, the fifty-six of us making the journey on foot from school in the direction of the campsite. Five students had been given the responsibility of riding into town every day to procure our food provisions, they were riding horses that had wagons attached to them stocked with our provisions for the rest of the day. Kevin, because of his knowledge of horses and his general dependability to get things done, was one of those on horseback. As always, the five of us travelled together. It was a long walk, one that would take us across Prospera, past the farms, barns, plantations, pastures, canals and workshops. To be nice Kevin offered to allow me to ride with him not long after we’d set off. My initial response was to decline his offer, but after prodding by Hannah and Lisa I agreed. I climbed up and sat behind him with my legs over the side and one arm around his waist for support. The look I saw on Hannah’s face when I took my place behind Kevin said it all about her feelings for him. As of late Kevin had been displaying a much more caring, considerate side of himself and Hannah was clearly very pleased with the change he’d undergone.

That Hannah was in love with Kevin was no secret. Lisa, Darren and I had known that for years. What we couldn’t tell was if Kevin was in love with Hannah, and if he was would they be allowed to be together given that Hannah was on track to become a member of the Ethics Committee and Kevin was someone who the governing authorities were clearly suspicious of and had been for years. We didn’t know how things were going to work when we were allowed to enter into courtships, if we’d be granted permission to pursue relationships with those for whom we had strong romantic feelings or if, like our careers, there would be a selection process that we didn’t have any say in at all. Either way, when the time came for us to enter into courtships I was going to have a lot of problems. Lisa was still the only person for whom I had feelings that could be described as romantic. I couldn’t rid myself of those feelings and I had no intention of doing so. Without knowing if it was acceptable for me to have the feelings I had it was too much of a risk for me to seek clarification on the issue, leaving me with no choice but to keep them to myself forever.

We arrived at the campsite roughly an hour after we’d departed and immediately made our way to the cabins to which we’d been assigned to leave our things, meet our cabin mates and take a rest. Each cabin was a two bedroom unit, with one bedroom for two boys and one for two girls. My housemates were Grant, an oboist from the orchestra whom I was familiar with, Steven, a young actor, and Penny, a promising playwright. At least I thought these were going to be my cabin mates. Soon after arriving at the cabin Lisa appeared and peremptorily told Penny that they were swapping places.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Penny asked, thrown by Lisa’s actions.

“What rules? There are no adults here,” Lisa responded.

“We were all assigned the cabins we would be staying in; we can’t just swap.”

“Yes we can, and in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not asking.”

With that Lisa strode with her bags into one of the bedrooms and left Penny with no choice but to take her things and leave for the cabin that Lisa was supposed to be staying in.

“Why did you do that?” I followed Lisa into our bedroom and asked her.

“I’m not going to leave you all by yourself with these people you barely know, not when you’re still having such a hard time.”

“Thanks.”

My plan had been to get through the month-long camping trip with as little help from my friends as possible; that plan went out the window with Lisa’s extraordinary act of kindness. Naturally a big part of me was excited about the prospect of having Lisa as my roommate because of my feelings for her. Just having her close was enough to give me hope that someday we could be together.

Later that evening, after we’d stored away our things and spent some time getting to know our cabin mates, we all gathered on the beach to witness the lighting of the ceremonial bonfire that symbolized the commencement of the camping trip. The large pyre of logs surrounding kindling had been constructed by Kevin and three other boys. Just as it had been the previous year the atmosphere on the beach amongst everybody was one of unfamiliar and exhilarating freedom. Everybody mingled effortlessly with each other and waited in anticipation of the lighting of the pyre. The person who had been selected to light the ceremonial pyre was Kevin. Watching him walking toward the pyre holding the torch with which he’d be lighting it, I looked around and saw something that I was seeing for the first time: in the eyes of everybody on the beach we saw the same respect for Kevin that we had. For that to be the case it would mean that they had the same questions about Prospera that we did. Had I been alone then, in believing that Prospera was a place in which secrets and deception did not exist? Did the fact that all of these children who also had questions about Prospera had not faced any consequences mean that I was safe?

Standing on the beach and watching the pyre go up in flames I started for the first time in years to think of myself as being part of something bigger than our circle of five friends, and when Lisa stood next to me and put her arm around me and smiled at me I felt that I had at last arrived at a place from which I could begin to recover from what had been two horrible years.

Lisa

We were all surprised to see the deference with which Kevin was being treated by the other children on the camping trip. Somehow over time, without us knowing it, he had achieved an elevated status among the children of the village. News of his various exploits had obviously made their way around and turned him into a revered figure. Hannah was the most surprised of us all. She had always thought that the four of us were the only ones who knew about Kevin and everything he got up to and that she was the only one who appreciated what he was looking for enough to regard him with respect. She was seeing for the first time that that wasn’t the case and, judging by her reaction, it unnerved her.

After lighting the pyre Kevin returned to us and the five of us did what we always did and talked amongst ourselves. This was our second time doing this camping trip and the process by which we were supposed to grow as human beings remained a mystery to us. We had been given no specific tasks or responsibilities to accomplish during our time here; we were left to our own devices for thirty days with nothing to do but look for ways to pass the time until the trip was over. Last year after the trip had ended we’d returned to the village without feeling any more mature. Most of the other children had returned feeling that the trip had been a success; they’d made new friends and had enjoyed the experience of being away from their families and on their own for an extended period of time. The four of us that had stayed for the duration of the trip had not had the same experience. We’d spent our time there keeping to ourselves and worried about Miranda, who’d had to return to her parents. This had only been a few months after the events that had taken place that night in the forest and we were all still adjusting to living with what we’d seen and been through that night. This year it appeared, on that first day at least, that things would be different. For starters, after we’d spent some time talking amongst ourselves, Miranda separated from us and went to talk to a group of children she knew from her music classes from two years ago when she was taking them. Watching Miranda break away from us to be with others was a beautiful sight. For far too long Miranda’s friendliness and effervescence had been held prisoner by her fear of what would happen to us should the governing authorities decide to take action against us and by her anxiety over her inability to continue trusting those around her. Encouraged by what we were seeing, Kevin, Hannah, Darren and I felt a collective weight lift from our shoulders. If Miranda could turn the page then so could we.

The first morning of the trip, confronted with the question of what I was going to spend all of my time there doing, I walked aimlessly out of the cabin in search of something with which to while away my morning. Most of the other children were at the beach, swimming in the ocean now that it was summer and the water was warmer, playing games like volleyball, or just sitting and talking. Miranda was sitting with the children from her music classes that she’d spent most of the previous evening talking with. I saw Hannah and Darren sitting together on a blanket talking and decided to join them. Kevin had ridden into town with the other boys that had been tasked with collecting our food every day; we had to wait for them to return before we could have breakfast.

“So, what are you two going to do with your time here?” I asked when I reached them.

“I’ve got an idea for a play that I think I’m going to work on,” Darren responded.

“I’m not doing anything; I’ve been so busy with my lessons with my mother that I just want to clear my mind,” Hannah said.

Seeing the three of us together, Miranda left the group that she’d been sitting with and started walking over to us.

“Is it just me or is she a completely different person than she was this time yesterday?” I asked as Miranda was making her way across the beach to us.

“It’s not just you, she’s definitely changed. This morning before he rode out she asked Kevin if he’d bring her violin back with him so that she could start making up for the two years of practice that she’d lost,” Hannah said to me.

This was highly encouraging news. Miranda was far and away the most talented young musician in the village and for her not to be expressing that talent was an absolute waste.

I was left then as the only one who didn’t know what to do with all of the time we were going to have there. I hadn’t brought along any of my biology books to further my studies in a personal capacity, nor did I have any hobbies with which I could occupy myself. I realized that having spent the past two years worrying about Miranda and making sure that she was okay that I had surrendered myself entirely to that cause and had lost a great deal of my sense of self in the process. My devotion to Miranda was attributable to two reasons. The first was that she had come with us into the forest having not wanted to and none of us had tried to stop her. The second was what I’d thought when we were leaving Prospera that night: that I wished she hadn’t come along with us because she was just slowing us down. I found I couldn’t forgive myself for having thought that; Miranda was a kind, sweet and caring person and didn’t deserve to have people thinking such things about her. Like Kevin I too had had difficulty forming truly close relationships with others and had been considered by those around me to be a cold and distant person. Miranda had changed that; she’d changed me. During the past two years that I had devoted to her I had become much more aware of and concerned about the feelings of others. I was a better person because of Miranda and felt indebted to her for bringing about that change in me.

Miranda wasted no time in getting reacquainted with her violin. Kevin and the other boys returned with our food provisions, we cooked and ate breakfast, took turns showering and when I exited the bathroom, having been the last one to shower, it was to the sound of Miranda playing the violin. I walked to our room wrapped in a towel and was arrested by the sight of her standing in the centre of the room looking like she had been transported to the world of music. Her face was the picture of absorption, her bowing arm swung back and forth with grace and purpose; she swayed in tune with the music as if her entire body was an extension of the instrument, which, being a prodigy, it was. I was witnessing the perfect fusion of artist and instrument, working together to vividly bring to life the composer’s music. I stood in the doorway of our room just watching and listening, mesmerized by her brilliance.

“It’s amazing that you can pick that up and play Bach like that having not touched it in two years,” I said to her when she was done playing, entering the room and closing the door behind me.

“The Saraband from his Unaccompanied Partita no.2 is one of my favourite pieces, I’ll always be able to pick up a violin and play it.”

“I wish I had your talent,” I said, taking off my towel and getting the clothes I’d be changing into from my chest of drawers.

“You’re going to be a doctor, working to keep people healthy and living longer. That’s a practical purpose, it’s more important than what I do,” Miranda responded, after a delay.

“But that’s not talent.”

“I feel like what you do is more impressive than what I do, because it takes real work and commitment; you’re not just relying on what you were born with.”

It was remarkable that she was so wonderful given the talent she possessed and the weight of expectation that was on her shoulders. Was it all a front? Was she keeping the strain that she was feeling hidden from us, or did she feel no strain at all and was able to easily weather the burdens her talent placed upon her? Watching her playing the violin in our room was really the first time I’d paid close attention to her playing and it forced upon me the realization that although we’d known each other our entire lives I didn’t know her as well as I should have. I didn’t know what her fears were aside from what our excursion into Eternal Forest had caused her to fear, what she envisioned her future looking like, any romantic feelings she might have developed for any of the boys, any talents she had aside from the violin. The more I thought about it the more Miranda came to seem like a stranger to me. I decided then that I would spend my time here learning as much about her as I could and that when we left here we would be as close as friends could be.