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IZA DRAD O
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IZA D
RAD O IPAT SCHMA Z
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is is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents areeither products of the authors imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.
Copyright © y Pat Schmatz
All rights reserved. No part of this ook may e reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information
retrieval system in any form or y any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including
photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from the pu lisher.
First edition
Li rary of Congress Catalog Card Num er
----
BVG
Printed in Berryville, VA, U.S.A.
is ook was typeset in Ado e Devanagari.
Candlewick Press
over treet
Somerville, Massachusetts
visit us at www.candlewick.com
For the lizards
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In a world similar to ours
with some genetic twists
and decisional turns . . .
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C apter One
I DO NOT BELIEVE. Not in any corner of my heart or scrap of
my soul o I t ink t at S eila will carry it t roug . Not w en s e
makes me pack a uffel. Not w en s e ustles me into t e gov
skizzer, not when we pedal through the grit-gray morning, and
not w en s e takes me for t e first time eyon city limits, into
t e aernoon countrysi e. Still, I will not elieve.
Not until we turn onto a gravel rive an pass un er t e
wooden CROPCAMP sign do the first fear-flavored tendrils of belief
creep in etween my ri s. S eila steers across t e wi e lot, takes
er feet off t e pe als, an parks. S e steps out, reac es in t e
ack for my uffel, an rops it on t e gravel. It lan s wit a puff
of dust. A woman strides across the lot to greet us. I get out of the
skizzer.
Hello. S e is tall wit lig t rown skin. Im Ms. Misc etti,
the CropCamp director.
Hello, Ms. Misc etti. S eila pronounces eac sylla le care-
fully. is is Kivali Kerwin.
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Hello, Kivali. e irector moves closer to me, an I itc a
step ack, against t e skizzer. Welcome.
I cut a look at S eila. S e wont meet my eyes. e irectorwatc es me. No o ys eyes connect.
Ill e going now, says S eila.
Her voice is as tig t as er face. For t e past two weeks, s es
been all about the opportunity: an opening at a CropCamp close
to ome, ow Ill like living out oors, ow SayFree Gov is pres-
suring for early camp entrance for me, ow it mig t e ettert an eit er of us can imagine. Now I see t at s e oesnt elieve it
any more than I believed shed bring me here.
e irector still looks only at me. Our triangle-gaze stan -
off lasts anot er eat, an t en anot er, an t en S eila reaks it
by stepping in the middle, turning her back on the director. She
takes me y t e s oul ers an pulls me in — not quite a ug, ut
close — an w ispers in my ear.
Be rave, my sweet gecko.
en she leaves me.
I ont watc er go. e CropCamp irector stan s on t e
ea of my s a ow on t e gravel. I refuse to look up an see er
seeing me. I concentrate on stan ing still, not letting my inner
s iver s ow.
Lacey Her feet s i, releasing my s a ow- ea as s e
turns to someone across t e lot. is is Kivali Kerwin — Pie
Five, Slice Nineteen. Show her down, would you Shell just have
time to rop off er t ings efore orientation.
Ms. Misc etti walks away. I li my ea an look over my
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s oul er to see if S eila is skizzing ack un er t e CropCamp
sign to get me: joke over, lets go ome.
S es not.I look up at t e sky, searc ing for t e saurians. Are t ey just
on t e ot er si e of t at puffy clou , watc ing me Can t ey see
t roug clou s Do t ey reat e uman air Ive never een
good at the science part.
Hey, you Come on, get moving.
A girl in lig t green coveralls stan s at t e e ge of t e parkinglot wit er an s on er ips. I sling my ag over my s oul er.
She starts walking, and I trudge along behind her. Her streak-
lon ponytail ounces as we pass t e L-s ape woo en offi ce
uil ing an cross a large five-si e green lawn.
is is the Quint, she says. We have social time here every
evening.
e straps of t e uffel ig into my s oul er. W y i S eila
o it Pressure or no, s e i nt ave to. S e coul ave put t em
off for at least two years. I just turned fieen last week.
Over t ere is t e Pavilion; t ats w ere orientation is. Lacey
points to a roun -roofe structure wit some people clustere
outside. e gong will ring in about ten ticks, and you need to
e t ere. We ave Cleezies t ere, too, every ay an twice on
Sun ays. Over t ere, t ats t e Mealio. We eat t ere.
I cant imagine eating t ere. Not for one meal. Certainly not
for three months of meals. As we cross the Quint, another long,
L-s ape uil ing wit a low roof comes into view, an Lacey
points.
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ats t e Stu y Center. ats w ere youll ave class. e
ayvee po is t ere, too.
S e lea s me on a irt pat etween sprea ing fiel s. Girls inpairs an t rees an a few solos meet us along t e pat . I play t e
you-cant-see-me-if-I- ont-look-at- you game.
Green ouse over t ere. Boys Pieville on t e east si e.
Toolshed just past the greenhouse. Our Pievilles down here.
At t e e ge of t e fiel t e pat rops off, own a steep slope
into a eep s a e wit a s arp, tangy smell. Its a real forest. Trees,tall ones wit green pine nee les. e westering sun reac es
through the gaps and spaces to create long streams of golden light
t roug t e s a ows. e smell comes in not just t roug my
nose — it seeps into my pores, gentling my s ivery stomac .
e pies are in numerical order. She points at a round,
fa ric-covere structure t at comes to a point at t e top. Ot ers
are smattere irregularly t roug t e woo s. e privo an
spigot are over t ere. S ower ouse is e in . No s owers
tonight; youll get your first chit from your crew guide tomor-
row, an aer t at you ave to earn t em in t e power room.
ats your pie, t e far one ack t ere. Slice num ers are stampe
eneat t e oors. Youre nineteen. Drop your uffel, an t en
get yourself ack to t e Pavilion for orientation. Everyt ing ap-
pens strictly on time ere.
S e turns away an leaves me.
I follow the path back to the last pie. Light gray synthie fabric
stretc es over woo en ro s t at converge at t e top. Four oors.
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I locate t e num er nineteen stampe eneat t e ack oor, t e
one facing a tangly copse of leaves an grasses an ranc es an
rus . Kalei oscope green. eres a zipper tag at t e ottom corner. I zip t e oor open
an step into my slice of t e pie. Cot along one wall, esk on t e
ot er. ree sets of eige coveralls stacke on t e s elf unit in
between. I drop my duffel and pull the komodo dragon out of
my pocket. Tiny an fierce in constant frozen motion, it steps
forwar wit its rig t front clawe foot. I set it on my palm anring it up to my face.
Lizard time. I speak aloud in the silence.
Somet ing rustles in t e far si e of t e pie. We are not alone.
I curl my fingers over t e toy ragon an i e it away in my
pocket, still holding tight.
Lizar time
I close my eyes. Yes. Time for t e saurians to get me out of
ere. Rig t now. Hurry up. A oor unzips, an footsteps roun
the pie. I clutch the komodo. Its sharp metal edges dig into my
palm. A gong rings in t e istance.
at gong is for us. You coming
I release t e komo o, wipe my sweaty palms on my pants, zip
my oor open, an step out. My new comra e as a rampage of
ark curls aroun er face, acklit y t e angle sun. S e looks
me up, own, an up again.
Lizard time
Just ki ing, I say, an s e reaks open a ig grin.
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Ki ing, u Not everyone pulls a lizar out of t eir ki -
ing ag. Im Sully. I t ink you s oul e my new est frien . We
can terrorize t e camp.Her eyes are warm, an er smile an stance confi ent. Social
power rolls off er, t e kin t at everyone wants to get close to.
e kin t at is angerous w en it turns on you. S e walks, an I
follow a half step behind. We pass the other pies and scrabble up
t e steep pat . Roots crisscross t e ark eart eneat our feet.
at ank tangy smell fills my w ole ea .We pop up next to t e fiel s. eres no longer a crow near
the Pavilion. eyre all inside. We sprint past the fields and
scram le up to t e oor at t e same time as a couple of reat less
latecomers from t e oys si e. ey open t e oor, letting us in
first. Rocks rattle underfoot as we slink into the back row. We sit
on a roug - ewn enc , reat ing ar .
Low woo en walls form t e roun structure. From waist-
level up, its all screen until t e ig woo en- ome ceiling.
Sparks and smoke dance from a fire up through the hole in the
center of t e roof.
Ms. Misc etti stan s. e murmurs an fi gets us imme-
iately.
Welcome to CropCamp, s e says. Welcome to t e egin-
ning of t e en of c il oo . Welcome to community, to
comra es ip, to fin ing your place in t e worl . Welcome to
work and learning, to responsibility, to growth and connection.
Her voice is a smoot - umming motor.
is is a safe place, putting you on t e roa to safety in
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life. Ive never a a vape from t is camp. Expuls are rare. ere
are t irty-nine of you ere to ay, an I expect t irty-nine of you
to receive your camp certifications at t e en of August. Wit acert from t is camp, your c ances of ever lan ing in Blig t are
less t an t ree percent. Youll enter t e a ult worl rea y for fur-
t er e ucation or a fulfilling career in agriculture.
e regs are strict here. I suggest that you comply and let us
make t is a goo experience for you. If you leave ere certless,
youll face consequences t at your MaDa cannot fix. If you are ofage, youll go irectly to Blig t. If not, you will e relocate to fos-
ters who can prepare you for a RepeaterCamp. So consider your
actions carefully. Your c oices ere will follow you for t e rest of
your life.
She then launches a flow of suggestions and advice, weaving
a steely we of restrictive assurance wit promises to care for us
an elp us an teac us. S e waves er an , an Lacey an t e
ot er gui es in t eir pale green coveralls stan . en t e teac -
ers, and the counselors.
More wor s, wor s like citizenry an safety, responsi ility
an open air an onest la or. Same wor s I saw in t e info ocs
t at S eila ma e me rea last week.
Im not seventeen, I sai . You always sai no camp
efore Im seventeen, not over your ea o y. Are you planning
to ie
Sheila looked like Id slapped her, and I was a little bit sorry.
Only a little, ecause I still i nt elieve. But now I won er: w at
if s e really s planning to ie May e s e as a orri le isease
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an is on er way to a me center rig t now. Or may e s e regrets
picking me up off t e si ewalk fieen years ago, an t is is er
c ance to finally e free of me.Ms. Misc etti is still talking, ut er wor s fuzz an morp
an sli e on y wit out meaning. My comra es are all nearly
grown, like Sully. Some lean forwar , listening ar . Some gaze
into middle space in front of them. One pair of eyes looks up
across t e fire, gra s mine, an ol s.
Hes a mi range en er. He as pale skin wit a s a ow ofs ave on is c eeks an c in. Straig t ark air sweeps across
one eye. His features are chiseled and delicate, his nose long and
s arp. He sits wit one leg rape over t e ot er. He smiles an
ips is ea ever so slig tly, a no of recognition.
I check my own posture. I uncross my ankle from my knee
an ring my legs closer toget er. He sees me o it an tilts up
one corner of is mout . He leans forwar , face proppe on is
an . Not on a fist eneat is c in, ut wit is fingers sprea
open on his cheek, and I realize that my own hands are clenched
into fists. My every natural movement reveals en er, just like
is. At least I try to keep mine un er control. Especially ere,
among strangers.
Sully el ows me an no s own at er rig t an . Its
stretc e out, palm up. Everyone else is liing t eir an s to t e
same palm-up position. Two of t e gui es, Lacey an a tall guy
with a scruff of blond whiskers, walk the circle in opposite direc-
tions from Ms. Misc etti. ey carry askets an lay somet ing
on eac upturne palm.
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Wait until everyone as one, Ms. Misc etti says. We o
t is toget er — it is your offi cial entrance to summer CropCamp.
e gui e sets somet ing on my palm. Its t e size of a grape,lig t rown wit an irregular surface.
Close your eyes, Ms. Misc etti or ers.
Everyone oes it, all t e way aroun t e circle. Everyone ut
me and the bender guy.
Close your eyes.
S e looks irectly at me. I cast my eyes own, still open.On the count of three. She lets me slide. Put it in your
mouth. Together, well savor the sweet taste of community.
One. Two.
My stomac is ollow, empty, caving in on itself. I i nt
eat anything when Sheila and I stopped just an hour outside of
CropCamp. Too usy not- elieving an refusing to participate.
ree.
I glance at t e en er. He rops t e t ing to t e rocks an
puts his foot over it.
Now, t e irector says. All join an s.
e irectors eyes ave me pinne , an an s reac for me
on eit er si e. I put t e t ing in my mout . Saliva springs so fast
an ar t at I almost rool.
Sullys an fin s mine, interlacing fingers. Hmming passes
aroun t e circle, from taste to taste an palm to palm, an t e
sweet crunchy texture and soness inside spreads all through me.
Sully moans, an t e vi ration tingles up my arm an t e ack of
my neck, across my scalp.
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Open your eyes now.
Ms. Misc etti speaks soly, no longer looking at me. I run
my tongue aroun my mout to e sure I avent misse any-t ing. is sensation, its goo , way eyon t e taste. It sparks a
ig appy insi e, igger t an t e fear or rea or worry a out
S eila.
Again I say: Welcome to CropCamp. Welcome to the world
of iscipline, iligence, cooperation, an camara erie. Welcome
to t e gateway to your a ult life.S e lig ts a long matc , an I realize t e sun as set. e
guides step forward to light candles off the match. ey enclose
t e can les in glass win -covers.
e gui es will escort you ack to your Pievilles. Do not
turn on any leddies until youre in your own slice, and then only
for w at you a solutely nee . Do not speak w en you leave ere.
Just feel. Listen to t e trees, to t e win an stars. Settle into your
new ome in silence. e gong will ring at six tomorrow. You will
put on the camp coveralls and prepare for the day. We meet at
CounCircle — t ats on t e east si e of t e Mealio — promptly at
t e seven oclock gong. Breakfast will follow.
S e en s wit t e customary farewell, t e one use in pu lic
gat erings t roug out t e country.
Come from One.
Live in t e lig t, we reply.
Return to One.
We all say t e last line toget er. I rise wit t e ot ers, a uni-
fie mass in motion. Sully unlaces er an from mine, running
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a fingertip across my palm as s e lets go. S e smiles as if s e sees
t e tiny s iver ance up an own my spine. Her pupils are ark
enoug to fall into. S e puts an s to my s oul ers an turns meto follow t e flickering lig ts at t e oorway.
We split as we exit, oys to t e east an girls to t e west. No
one speaks, ut t e air is full of t e soun an taste an sensation
of the moment. e guides lead us down into the woods. Other
comra es rop off as we pass t eir pies. At t e privo, Lacey lig ts
a can le in t e torc - ol er. Only Sully an I an one ot er girlfollow Lacey to t e last pie. e ot er girl is tall, wit air gat -
ered in a poof at the back of her head.
Lacey points t e can le towar our pie, an t en contin-
ues along t e pat eyon . e t ree of us watc er can le ip
and flicker. It angles to the le, flicks between trees, and finally
isappears.
You must e num er eig teen. Sully turns to t e t ir girl.
A fullis moon is on t e rise, just eginning to stream t roug
the pines. Or are you twenty Im Sully.
e tall girl turns er ack an zips into slice eig teen
etween mine an Sullys wit out a wor .
Oh, right, says Sully. No speaking.
S e lig tly punc es me in t e arm an enters er slice. I
roun t e pie an stan in front of my own oor. I tuck my an s
up un er my armpits an face t e arkness of t e woo s. e o
happy feeling continues to spin in my chest. Its all so strange. e
strangest part of all is t at in t is moment, I almost like it ere.
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C apter Two
eyes open . My toy komo o
glows in the beam, and I jolt up. e komodo hovers on the very
e ge of t e s elf as if its a out to leap onto my ea . ats not
w ere I le it. Is it
I check my door. Yes, closed. No one has been in here — I
woul ve ear t e zipper. Slowly, I reac out to t e ragon, alf
afrai itll leap at my finger an c omp it. But no, it oesnt move
as I touc t e s arp tip of its cool metal nose. I turn it aroun so
it faces the door the way I thought Id le it. On guard.
e nig t lies still aroun us. A slig tly w eezy reat rises
an falls, t e soun leaking t roug t e synt ie wall t at I s are
wit num er eig teen. Everyt ing else is quiet except for t e
blood thudding in my ears. I sink back onto the pillow and put a
an on my jumpy eart.
Deep reat in, two, t ree. I follow t e air in an out. S i
my attention away from the here and now, shut it out the way
I s ut out t e walk-a- ay noise of mac inery an umanity at
ome. I sink into t e c itter an murmur, t e moving s apes on
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t e acks of my eyeli s, t e removal from t e worl an t e ay,
an I tune in. Lizar Ra io is t e est place I know, t e quietest
an calmest, t e furt est from anyt ing a or scary or —Go to the fields.
I olt straig t up. Lizar Ra io never speaks uman wor s.
e reat ing in t e next slice continues. e komo o
remains frozen where I put it. e moonlight shines steady. e
wor s pulse, not out lou ut strong an clear. Gotothefields.
Gotothefields. Like someone w ispering in my ear from t einsi e.
I pick up the komodo again and run my fingers back to the
en of t e tail. I touc t e space etween t e eye socket umps,
feel t e curve of t e claws. I ring it to my mout an kiss it. My
clothes are on the floor where I dropped them. I pull them on and
tuck t e komo o in my pocket, strap on my fro s, an kneel at
t e oorway. I slow-tick t e zipper up, quiet, no-wakey.
A lig t reeze moves t roug t e rustling woo s, an t e
night air shivers across the back of my neck. e moon casts
s a ows of spooklig t. A small flame still ances insi e a glass
s iel y t e privo, an I ea t at way. I pass it y an continue
into t e apple arkness, slinking past t e sleeping pies. I clim
t e steep slope, placing my fro s carefully on t e unfamiliar ter-
rain. My reat ances in an out. Now is t e time. e saurians
are ere. eyll take me to t e Lizar Ra io worl .
At the top of the rise I sense motion and immediately drop,
elly-flat, eart itting t e eart . Hea own. e treetops w is-
per an iss. e win s lig t fingers touc my air. Slowly, I li
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my ea . A solitary sil ouette stan s awas in t e moonlig t to
my rig t. Not a lizar . A uman.
e moon as egun to rop to t e west, an t e s a owof t e treetops falls several paces in front of me, rawing a clear
line etween more- ark an less- ark. I elly-crawl forwar for a
closer view, rig t up to t e e ge of t e s a ow line.
e figure in the field shrugs out of his coveralls. ey fall to
t e groun , an e steps clear, completely unclot e . Moonlig t
splas es t e long plane of are ip an t e curve of ack. Hestretc es arms to t e sky, fingers reac ing. His air flows as e
tips his head back and the moon shines on his face.
Its t at en er oy I saw in t e Pavilion.
Please.
His solitary word carries on the night air and punches my
eart. Its so ut clear, an rever erates t roug my skull wit all
of t e longing in t e worl .
Please.
His voice quavers. Silvery liquid light shines between his out-
stretc e fingers. My w ole o y leans in is irection, listen-
ing, feeling. He collapses to t e groun , ugging is legs into is
c est. His air falls over is face.
I want to elp im. W atever e wants, I want to give it
to im.
A lig t comes on in t e far si e of t e offi ce uil ing, t e
short leg of the L-shape. He cant see it, not with his head down
like t at. Hell e caug t. May e expulle . Ms. Misc etti was very
clear a out curfew, an a out culpas an expuls.
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Hey I uff out a w isper-yell. Ssst
His ea comes up. He turns an looks irectly at me as if
e can see me. Anot er lig t comes on, an out oor one. A oorslams. I flatten again. I cannot risk an expul. Im too young to go
to Blig t, ut an unknown foster an RepeaterCamp Away from
S eila an Korm, may e forever No.
A figure moves through the circle of yard light, toward the
fiel s. Tall an roa -s oul ere . Ms. Misc etti, on er way to
collar im. S e stops mi -stri e wit a strangle cry, as if s esrun into a wall. I look to see w at t e oy as one.
Hes gone. I arch up, propped on my hands, searching. e
ark crumple of is clot es is still t ere in t e fiel , ut t e oy
is not. Ms. Misc etti sinks to t e groun wit er arms over er
head. No. She mirrors the posture of the boy who was there
only secon s ago. No.
Su enly, I un erstan . In t ose few secon s w en I watc e
Ms. Misc etti approac t e fiel , t e oy vape . But no o y as
ever vaped from this camp. Ever. Maybe thats why Ms. Mischetti
is — well, it looks like s es crying.
I ease ack into t e eeper s a ows an crawl until I fin t e
pat . So-fro ack own to Pieville an slip into my slice. Get in
e an stare into t e moony nig t wit a poun ing eart. at
oy vape . Korm says t at vaping is goo , a privilege, a treat. Its
suppose to e a terri le t ing, ut Korm says t at you only get to
do it if youre worthy. She says shell vape any day now.
Of course, s es een saying t at t e w ole time Ive known
er, an t ats more t an seven years. Sometimes w en I was
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younger an s e i nt s ow up for our sessions, I was sure t at
s e vape . But s e always came ack.
Ben ers an samers, efectives an efiants an violents,t ats w o vapes. People just like Korm. Its t e ultimate t reat,
vaping. Scarier t an Blig t ecause no one knows for sure w at it
is. But t at en er oy wante it. Begge for it.
Sheila says if and when Korm does vape, itll mean the gov
finally caug t up wit er. S e also says t at Korm as a tenuous
grip on reality. Korm says t at S eilas too attac e to t e real-ity of t is worl , an t ats w y s es so un appy. I kin of t ink
theyre both right.
Before t ey starte t e camp system, lots of teens vape .
Almost 5percent. SayFree Gov calle it a growing epi emic an
set out to cure it, first with the strict bender regs and then with
t e camps. Vapes are rare now. Almost un ear of.
But I just saw one wit my own eyes. Well, almost.
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C apter T ree
, A I open my eyes to aylig t leaking
through the fabric walls. I look quickly to the shelf. e komodo
is not t ere. I olt up in t e col s iver of awn an gra my
pants from t e floor, rifling in a panic t roug t e pockets.
My fingertips hit the reassuring shape.
Lizar Are you over t ere
Sully calls me Lizar . As if s es speaking co e to my eart,
w ic answers wit a spee y t u -t u .
Im here, I manage to say.
How a out Num er Eig teen s e yells. Are you t ere,
too Di we all survive t e nig t
I take t e top coveralls from t e stack of t ree on t e s elf,
shake them, and pull them on over boxers and T-shirt. e cover-
alls are lig tweig t, roomy, an comforta le. I rop t e komo o
in my pocket, strap on my fro s, an step out into t e ray of sun-
shine slanting through the pine needles.
I ru my eyes, s ake my ea . e rig t suns ine makes t e
nig t an t e moon s a ows seem istant, unreal. e tall girl
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steps out of t e slice next to mine. S e looks to e nineteen or
twenty, ut t at cant e — eig teent irt ay is t e upper limit
for camps. S e as a t in, olive-skinne face, an er fuzz-poofof air is ark rown. Her ark eyes are fierce, aring me to speak
an aring me not to.
Hi, I say.
Im Nona Raglisch.
Nona Raglisc , Sully repeats, coming up e in er. Im
Sully, an t is is our Lizar . Lets ug an e alla-One. Sully steps in close, er arms out. Nona stares at er wit out
moving, expressionless. Sully stops, her arms in an arc.
No No love for your new piemates
Nona oesnt move.
No. Sully answers herself and drops her arms.
Nonas eyes sli e over me as s e turns away. Feeling release ,
I walk wit Sully towar t e privo.
at was t e icy-col est ose of s ut-up I ever got, Sully
says. What did you do to make her hate me so much
I i nt. I i nt even talk to er last nig t.
Sully grins an pokes me in t e arm.
Joke, Lizard.
S eila calls me Sweet Komo o, or Gecko, or W iptail. Skink,
if s es ma at me. But just plain Lizar Never. I like it.
Sully an I was up toget er at t e spigot. S e ouses er
face and shakes it dry, wiping her sleeve across her eyes.
How ol are you, anyway We stroll t roug Pieville. You
look like quite t e young lizar .
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Fieen.
Oo , very ten er meat. Fieen
I t ink s es yelling my age to t e worl , ut t e oor stampewit num er fieen zips open.
W at
e raspy a y-crow voice stops us ot . A girl wit a fluff of
white-blond hair zips out the slice door. Her coveralls just about
swallow er w ole.
Sully an t e Lizar ere, says Sully. W o are youRasta Lyn Shorlen, reporting for duty.
She salutes me, not Sully, and Sully laughs out loud.
Rasta, my frien , wit t at voice you s oul e working for
SayFree Ra io. We all line up to comply, even Captain Lizar .
Join us for breakfast
e t ree of us walk t e pat toget er.
W ere are you from, Rasta Sully asks.
S ylan , west si e. You
Twa Burbs. Lizard
S y Nort , inner sector, I say.
ats almost local, says Sully. Skizzer istance, anyway.
W o goes to CropCamp unless t eyre A: local, or B: a loser
Present company excepte , of course.
S e just calle me a loser, says Rasta. But not you.
I sai , present company excepte .
I think you were being polite.
I ont speak polite, says Sully.
S e s oul ers me, a frien ly ump t at surprises me
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si eways. I ungle into Rasta. S e laug s an s oul ers me ack,
alt oug er s oul ers only as ig as my ri cage. I knock into
Sully again. eyre laug ing, an some ow I am, too. Ive nota a playful ump-an -pus in a very long time. Its a strange
mix of scary an goo .
So w y CropCamp Rasta asks Sully. No goo at
academics
Actually, Im a mat rainiola, says Sully. But Im incline
to efiance so my as putting me un er t e Mac ete la e. Hesays if anyone can track me out of Blig t, its er.
Machete. Rasta nods at the name twist. Lizard, why are
you ere
I coul say t at S eila is a fikety-fike. I coul mention ow I
almost flunked post-decision gender training, or the whole low-
comply at sc ool pro lem. May e I s oul just tell t em t at Im
a komo o ragon a an one y t e saurians on planet uman.
May e I s oul just s ut up.
Because I am.
Rasta an Sully exc ange a glance, an Rasta says, Cant
argue wit t at.
We crest t e ri ge an stop at t e top. e sun filters t roug
t e trees on t e oys si e an lig ts up t e ew rops so t e
green nu ins of plants glitter wit lig t an color. Beautiful as
one of S eilas paintings. Beautiful like t e moon s a ows an
vape-scene, but with an entirely different palette.
W atc a lookin at A roun girl wit s ort re s uffs up
t e pat an stops to stan wit us.
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Crops, says Sully. Were fascinate . Bunc of ur y ki s
roppe in t e mi le of agriculture.
Im not burby. My people are farmers. Im a proud tradition.W ats your name, prou tra ition
Tylee. If you all ont want to e farmers, w y are you ere
Getting cleane up an compliant, Rasta says. Rea y to e
an adult, I am.
Rastas voice its Tylee t e same way it i me an Sully,
splitting a uge w ite smile across er ark-skinne face. As t eytalk, I walk over to t e e ge of t e fiel an look out. Rig t t ere:
ats where that guy stood. e crumple of clothes is gone now.
I won er w ere e is — or if es anyw ere. May e vaping is t e
est en er t ing to o. Just step away from it all. W en I get
home, Ill talk to Korm about this.
e secon gong rings.
C op-c op Lizar ; Mac ete summons, calls Sully.
ey wait for me so we can walk toget er. As if t eyre my
friends.
CounCircle is a grassy oval next to t e Mealio, or ere y
s oul er- ig neatly trimme e ges. Boys enter from t e east
an girls from t e west, in various ragge y postures of morning.
A few oys are clean-s aven, a few still smoot -c eeke , an
t e rest ave everyt ing from eavy s a ow to wispy w iskers.
Some girls are neatly put together with eyeliner and tidy braids.
Ot ers, like Sully, are air-spike an sleep-crease . All of us
wear t e same eige coveralls except for t e gui es, w o are in
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lig t green. ey irect us to stan at attention wit in t e oval,
facing Mac ete at t e nort en . Everyone looks more a ult t an
me, except for may e Rasta, an a small lon oy w o coul eer paler cousin.
Mac ete is ack in c arge. Looks like CropCamp is going to
involve a lot of Mac ete talk. I watc an listen carefully. Har to
believe that shes the same person I saw rocking and crying in the
nig t. I scan t e comra e faces, oping to see t e en er an cut
t e nig t scene loose as a reamscape. He isnt ere. Machete releases us with the Come from One; live in the
light; return to One and we drop out of formation to enter the
Mealio. Its large an open, wit long ta les set for reakfast.
Counselors, teac ers, an gui es sit at t e ta les in ack. Sully
and Rasta and Tylee and I end up at a table with four guys.
Look at me, getting lucky first morning first ay.
A ig, an some guy sits at t e ea of t e ta le. He leans on
is el ows an gazes at Sully wit is long-las e eyes.
Im Aaron. Marry me aer CropCamp, okay
Dont you t ink you s oul take more time to look over t e
goo s Sully says. May e I look like a keeper on glance, ut Ive
got flaws. Rasta ere, s es flawless.
Hello, Rasta. Aaron turns to er, flas ing a grin t at you
know e practices in private. Im Aaron, an Im interviewing
women for a life of we e a y-making liss. Care to apply
I think Ill go for the fellow on your le there, Sully says as
Rastas face goes to re . Hes got goo one structure an ell
make pretty a ies.
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W ats wrong wit my one structure Im telling
you, its soli . Aaron winks at me, of all people. Do I nee to
s ow youPlease ont, says Sully.
Its w at were suppose to o ere — meet t e opposite sex
un er controlle con itions an form unions. SayFree Ra io
is always talking about how stable camp-formed couples are,
an ow t ey eit er eat t e low fertility rates or provi e sta le
omes for a opte Blig t a ies.We pass t e foo aroun , eggs an vegeta les scram le
together with a tasty sauce. A river of flirt continues to flow
etween Sully an Aaron, an some of it is funny. e ta le titters
wit em arrasse laug ter as tri utaries of t e flirtation trickle to
the rest of us. Even the skinny pale guy with raging acne at the far
en of t e ta le.
Even me.
Aer reakfast, t ey ivvy us up into six crews. Im
a Wednesday, along with Rasta, which means that we get
We nes ays off. Sullys a Satur ay. Our We nes ay gui e is
Mica , a tall, ark-skinne guy wit a ear attempt t at looks
like mu on is face. We follow im aroun on a groun s tour.
He gives us our sc e ule, s ows us t e c art of compost an
kitc en rotations, an passes out s ower c its.
Aer t is, e says, you earn s ower c its in t e power
room. ere are cycles and treadmills — shower chits cost a
un re cals. You can o t at uring your free time, efore
CounCircle, or etween Block Four an inner, or on your ay
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off. Solitu e aer lunc an evening Social on t e Quint are
man o.
He issues our ooktrons, water kaggis, an some eavy-uty scissor-clippers calle secateurs. He s ows us w ere to fin
spa es an forks in t e tools e , an takes us out into t e fiel s.
e sun is ig er now, an it pours like creamy sweet utter
across my face and arms. I unzip the top of my coveralls, tilting
my face up so t e utter can sprea to my neck, my eart.
e iggest fiel s are potatoes an cucum ers, primo cropsfor our sector. Organic farming is a ig la or eman , so anyone
who doesnt apply and qualify for an academic or specialty camp
en s up in some kin of AgCamp, crops or livestock.
is potato fiel stretc es long to t e nort . C ecking my
position from the tree line and the path to Pieville, I step over
rows to w ere I t ink t e en er oy was an rop to my knees
to look for footprints. W ile Im own ere, I stroke one of t e
ol green plants popping from t e irt. Its little leaves are soly
textured.
Leave t ose e an listen, says Mica . Well ave crop time
t is aernoon.
I stan , rus ing off my knees, aware of everyone looking at
me. Mica continues wit is lattery- lat talk a out soil type.
Rasta leans in an nu ges me wit er s oul er, smiling. Mica
keeps talking until t e gong rings for lunc .
Aer lunc , Sully an Tylee an Rasta an I walk toget er to
Pieville for Solitu e.
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Struck a luck wit Aaron on my crew, says Sully. Hes
a pretty piece of work, especially w en e s uts up. If I ave to
crawl aroun in t e irt all ay, I mig t as well e following isum. How o t ings look for t e We nes ays
Im not sure I like t at Mica , Rasta says. Saxem soun s
like a lot more fun.
He is, says Tylee. Hes got a mouth harp he played for us
every time e c ange su jects. At least you i nt get Lacey.
Risa on Mon ays sai t at s e ma e t em sit in alp a or er anrepeat ack ow to care for t e secateurs.
We scramble down the steep slope, and the shade of the
woo s pulls us in wit a cool reeze. We rop Tylee off at t e first
pie an ea for t e spigots.
Lizard was petting the potatoes, and Micah acted like she
was oing somet ing irty, says Rasta. Were at CropCamp. I
t oug t we were suppose to love t e plants.
Di you see t at en er in t e Pavilion last nig t Sully
asks.
I jam my an s into my pockets, fin t e komo o, an
clenc it in my fist.
He didnt even try to hide it. Rasta puts her hand on her
c eek, fingers sprea , an ats er eyes. Her mockery is a s arp
poke to my stomac .
Di you see ow pretty is eyes were says Sully. Greener
than green. But I havent seen him anywhere today. Have you
He mustve flunke PDGT ig-time, says Rasta. May e
t ey ma e im leave. He screams en er.
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My face is ot now. My eyes are own, own, own on t e
groun .
Easy for you to say, says Sully. What if everyone suddenlystarte telling you t at youre a oy, an you ave to act like one
I snap up to look at Sully. Non en ers never say anyt ing
like t at.
But Im not, says Rasta.
Yea , well, neit er am I. Were t e 95 percent. Lucky us.
Sully glances at me. S es not foole y t e yellow ri on in myhair. My little cousin was born a he, and now shes a beautiful
she. ey tested her up before Grade One and she scored in the
mi t irties. Girl for sure. Transition complete y Gra e ree,
an s e passe t roug PDGT in a out six weeks. Easy for er.
at guy last night is probably around fiy. I saw some of those
mi rangers in my cousins co ort. ey ave it roug .
Guess I never t oug t a out it like t at, says Rasta,
t oug tful.
ats because you dont have to. Benders have to think
a out it all t e time.
Sully, Kivali. Lacey startles us from e in . Do you know
t e meaning of Solitu e You too, Rasta. Zip in t ere. S e stan s
wit er arms crosse until Rasta zips into er slice. en s e
points at our pie an ossy-escorts us over t ere. Solitu e. No
c atter. Sleep or stu y, an o it quietly.
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Lizard Radio
Pat Schmatz
www.candlewick.com
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lizard-radio-pat-schmatz/1121069217?ean=9780763676353http://www.amazon.com/Lizard-Radio-Pat-Schmatz/dp/0763676357/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1429720434&sr=1-1&keywords=lizard+radiohttp://www.indiebound.org/book/9780763676353Top Related