For a long moment, the pair of us sat in silence, letting the truth of her words hang between us. All my life, I'd been told I had no options, but here in the privacy of our tiny room, my hope was growing just a little more.
"But I don't want to serve the Devil..." I finally tried.
Callah reached over to clasp my hand. "Doesn't a shepherd go first to protect the flock?"
"Huh?"
"In the Good Book," she said, "they talk a lot about shepherds. Someone has to guard the flock. Someone has to make sure the place is safe. Ayla, how can you know if this idea is a bad one or if it's God pushing you? What if it's a sign?"
"What if I die?" I asked.
"Then you would not be killing yourself," she said. "You would be trying, and is that not what the rest of us are doing? We're trying to survive the husbands we'll be assigned. We're trying to survive the children we'll bear. We're trying to survive the punishment He has given us. Why can't this idea of yours be the same?"
"So you think I should get banished?" I asked.
"No," she assured me. "But I can see the light in your eyes as you talk about it. It's the same look you get when you tell us about the books. Ayla, if there's anyone in this compound who could survive on the surface, I truly believe it's you. I also believe that if you try to actually survive up there, then even if you're killed, it won't be an irredeemable sin. So if this is what you have to do..."
"Will you take care of Meri?" I begged.
The smile Callah gave me was sad. "Always," she promised. "Just swear to me you'll send word back if you're still alive?"
"I'll find a way," I assured her.
"But what?" she asked.
My eyes jumped around my room, looking for some inspiration. "Um..." And they landed on the folded piece of paper which held my mother's drawing. "Something yellow."
"How?" she asked next.
Yeah, and that was the hard part, but I was liking this idea more and more. "The hunters, Callah! They come and go. If I'm alive, I'm sure I'll be able to send them back with something yellow, right? Something to give to you."
"And do you really think they'd do that?"
I felt a smile teasing my lips. "No, but if I'm living on the surface, I wouldn't need a man's permission anymore, right? All I have to do is use them to get it inside."
Which made Callah's eyes light up. "And maybe you can do it before my own wedding? Because I don't want to marry Reynold Saunders. I don't want to be stuck with a man worse than Peter Morgan!"
"Somehow," I promised her, "I will find a way." Then I leaned back and pushed out a dry laugh. "Oh, Callah. If only it was that easy."
"I know," she agreed as our momentary daydream began to crumble around us. "There's no way they'd banish a woman. It happens to men, but rarely. If a woman acts out, there are ways to retrain us - but if you end up in quarantine, I'll find a way to visit."
"They won't let you. They don't want the Devil's influence to spread."
"Or," she said, going on as if I hadn't spoken, "maybe I'll join you there. We can have rooms side by side. If we yell loud enough, we can even talk. I mean, my mother's screams carried through the walls."
"Mine too," I agreed.
"And in quarantine," she pointed out, "they can't prevent us from our thoughts. They won't be able to stop us. We can be wild women down here, Ayla. If nothing else, it will mean our husbands will have to pick up after themselves!"
"Yes," I laughed, "they would if we were locked away."
And yet that was also a foolish fantasy. A big, fat lie. The reality wasn't nearly as easy, because Callah was right. Men were banished, never women. I also knew quarantine wouldn't spare my life. It might ease the burden of caring for a man I abhorred, but isolation and darkness weren't the salvation I truly longed for.
So I relented, "Or I can marry Peter Morgan."
"I'll braid your hair," she assured me. "We'll make you look like the most beautiful bride ever. Just as good as Meri did."
"A meek one," I grumbled. "A quiet one."
"A subservient one," she agreed. "The kind who figures out how to survive."
ElevenAyla
That evening, a fist rapped on our plank-wood door. Callah jumped at the intensity of it, making me look up. With a heavy sigh, I stood and opened it, not shocked at all to see Peter Morgan on the other side. Clearly, someone had given him his "good" news. The man looked me over, smiled kindly, then tilted his head.
"May I come in?"
"Yes, sir." I should've stopped there, but my resentment made my mouth keep going. "It's not like I have a choice." I stepped back and resumed my place on the edge of my bed.
He followed me into the small room and closed the door behind him. Pausing to glance around the small space, the older man smiled kindly at Callah. She simply folded her hands in her lap and dropped her eyes to the mattress. Mr. Morgan cleared his throat as if he disapproved, then turned to face me, all but ignoring her.
"Antonia Myers just told me you'd accepted my proposal."
I shrugged. "The council chose you."
"Not you?"
I shrugged again. It seemed to be the best way to answer this man. "My options all sound about the same: old men I don't know. Does it really matter?"
