Chapter 9 - Eleanor

Stay in line.

13 years old

" E veryone, in two straight lines. Are you in order?" Dorothy barked at us as we scurried to our places. I stepped to the front of the line and looked to my right, where Milton was doing the same. Behind him came Callahan, who was rolling his eyes as he took his place second in line.

"Now, this isn't just a field trip for you. This is for the public. We want to show the general population that they are in good hands, and exactly who our Young Ladies and Daddies in Training are. People will want to talk to you, shake your hands, and give you gifts. It's to be expected from them. From you, we also have expectations. You will be on your best behavior and you won't tell them about your training or the rules. Tell them thank you for trusting you to save the human race, and that's it. Understood?"

In a monotone unison, we answered, "Yes, Ma'am."

She nodded her approval, and then looked to my Daddy, who stood to my left, heading the line for the Daddies.

"Let's go." She spun on her heels and launched forward, taking us to a large elevator. She clapped her hands for attention. "Teams of three, Daddy, Young Lady, and DIT. Five at a time."

It was cramped with 15 people inside, but I was grateful I got to be on the first trip down. Milton took advantage of us having to squeeze together to grab my hand and squeeze it once. My heart fluttered at the excitement of my new, budding... crush. Was it a crush if he liked me back? The idea put a smile on my face and as soon as the doors opened we poured out and were greeted by a room full of people.

The people were held back by ropes, giving us an aisle to walk down. We stepped back into our lines and waved at the common people as we waited for the next two groups to get down here. Once we were all ready, we began the trek through.

Dorothy hurried to the front and directed us this way or that. It felt like a small, backward parade. There was music and people threw flowers and confetti at us. We got to see storefronts, and people dressed in funny costumes. There were performers, dancers, singers, actors, clowns, cowboys, and princesses. It was magical, and it was a show put on for all of us.

Once the parade was finished, we were taken to a restaurant. It had been five years since I'd joined the Young Lady program, and I'd almost forgotten what it was like down here. It was an entire city. There were businesses, food places, libraries, and schools. It was hot and cold, smelled good and bad, things were dirty, others were clean, and it felt lived in. Unlike upstairs, where everything was kept pristine. Upstairs, everything was chrome and steel. The air was clean and everything was calculated so we would have the best experience possible for us to thrive and become who they needed us to be.

Down here, it was beautiful chaos. For a flash, I wondered about my old friends from the orphanage. Where were they now?

"I wonder if I'll see some of my old friends," I mused aloud.

"You won't be allowed to talk to them, so it doesn't matter," Daddy said gruffly. He wasn't a mean Daddy, like other Daddies, but he was always to the point. He never sugar-coated things for me.

"I can't say hi?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Why? So you can upset them? The point of this trip was to boost morale, not make people sad. Seeing people who knew you before, children your own age will only serve to upset them. They don't see you as special as we do. They see you as having what they want. They will be engulfed in jealousy and that breeds hate."

I sat back, surprised at how opinionated Daddy was on this. He was never much of a talker.

"Eleanor," he leaned in and grabbed my shoulder, squeezing it so I'd focus on him. "If you see someone you know, you mustn't engage. Understand?"

He stared at me harshly until I nodded in agreement. I started to lower my head when I saw a sign that piqued my interest.

Anchor Ink.

What was that?

I pointed to the men standing in front of the store. They saluted us as we passed. They were covered in drawings that looked etched into their skin. They were beautiful works of art.

"I want that," I sighed dreamily.

"Tattoos?" Daddy smirked.

"Is that what those are? Can I get one?"

He laughed loudly and urged me past the men with the tattoos. "No. A Young Lady is to remain pure in all ways. You would never be allowed inside one of those shops, let alone get one done."

"How does it work?" I fired question after question, growing exceedingly more fascinated by the process. I wanted to see it be done, from start to finish. I wanted to talk to those gigantic, stern-looking gentlemen. I wanted to try it myself. Finally, Dorothy snapped and stopped the line abruptly.

"Miss Eleanor, will you stop with this nonsense? You are not to talk to those men, understood?"

I blushed as everyone peered at me, curious about what I was getting scolded for. I nodded meekly but decided I was going to do whatever it took to see someone get one of these tattoos.

It took over my thoughts for the rest of the day, and finally, as we all sat down to eat, Daddy excused himself to go to the bathroom. The moment he was out of sight, I made a face, clutched my stomach, told the table the same thing, and hurried down the hall and out the back exit. We were close to that shop from earlier. I speed-walked to it, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

My eyes were everywhere in wonderment. The room was dim but lit up with neon lights. All over the walls were framed photos of drawings. There were birds, plants, people, and words in fancy fonts. All sorts of things in fun styles and colors. This is what people got drawn on them forever?

The sound of a soft hum started when I burst in, but it stopped.

"Can I help you?" A voice called from the back. I looked around and saw a curtain, it was pushed back and a giant man came through, saw me, and his jaw dropped. "Oh, shit. Uh- miss- I mean, Young Lady, are you lost?"

I shook my head. "No. I want to see this. It's fascinating. Are you giving a tattoo right now?"

He swallowed. "I am. Uh-- does your Daddy know you're here?"

"It's fine. I'll be quick, canIsee how you do it? I like to draw."

"What's your name?" He stared at me as if trying to decidesomething.

"Eleanor, please sir, I don't get to do stuff like this often."

He sighed and waved me back. "Don't touch anything. And you have to stand. I don't want to get your pink dress dirty. If they ask, Itoldyou to leave," he warned.

"Understood."

The artist took me through the process, explaining the anatomy of his machine, what he was doing totheskin, and how he learned to do it.

"I apprenticed for a long time beforeIgot to own my shop. Maybe once you're out of the program you can come down and I'll teachyoua thing or two."

The bell chimedjustas my heart began to soar with hope. Could I do this one day?

"Hello? One of our Young Ladies has gone missing, and if she's not found,the warden will be placing the bunker into an emergency state." A familiar voice sent an electric bolt of fear through me. Callahan.

He stepped through the curtain andhiseyes fell upon me and then the tattoo artist. I squeezed my hands together at my chest and shrunk into myself as he stared at me. I stared back at Callahan in fear. He and Milton were best friends, but he hated me. Why did it have to be him, of all people, to find me?

"Please, don't tell anyone," I whispered. "I just love art."

Callahan's eyes shifted from me totheman tattooing and back to me. He looked panicked. Heopenedhis mouth and shut it multiple times before nodding.

"Your secret is safe with me. Let's go."