One Month Later
I lay on my stomach on the bed, absently petting Puppy. I was half-conscious of Zuchter and Marcus studying at their desks, but most of my attention was on the hanging scripts I was reading. I heard footsteps pounding down the hall. I smiled, it had to be Runner. I was a little surprised — Runner was usually watching television at this time, sometimes by himself, sometimes with one of the students who took turns sitting with him and fielding his questions. The students seemed to enjoy being with Runner, teaching him and making love with him. I thought watching television would acculturate Runner more quickly than anything the students could tell him. His present schedule called for two hours of news, talk shows and soaps each morning and a movie every evening. Marcus, Zuchter, Holden and I would join him for the movie, however many of us were free.
His afternoons were usually spent in the library — he was reading simple children's books now, sharing and giggling over his favorites with me. The library had acquired a number of books for kids over the last month. Going over the plots of the books had given me the opportunity to explain family relationships to Runner. We decided that his mother was most likely a rare female work slave impregnated by her owner, rather than a breeding slave. Runner said that none of his pen-mates had looked much like him. I was sure, from my own observations of the island population, that several of them would have shared some of Runner's native genetic background, but none looked much like him.
Runner's library routine was interrupted twice weekly for sessions in the conference room with a sociologist from the university, who was excited by the opportunity to publish the first research describing day-to-day life in a Purity Island breeding pen. The professor, laughing, had told me that she wasn't sure whether she or Runner had asked more questions in the just-finished session.
The footsteps were followed by a hurried tap at the door, another of Runner's recent acquisitions in social etiquette. My smile spread to a grin. "Come in."
The door opened and Runner burst in, an excited look on his face. He was fully dressed — he did that more often now, and I suspected the khaki outfit, cut like a student uniform, added to Runner's feeling of belonging, as I'd hoped. "Wynn, I figured out about money!"
"Ummm..." I wasn't quite sure what the issue was. "What did you figure out about it?"
"What it's for! Why people have it! It's so cool!" A recent addition to Runner's vocabulary.
I sat up and patted the bed beside me. "Tell me about it."
Runner sat down on the bed, crossed his legs and leaned back against the wall. Puppy, as usual, licked his face in greeting, and he giggled.
Marcus and Zuchter had turned to listen as Runner spoke, each with a smile on his face.
Runner started, "I've been watching on TV, and I'd keep seeing people trade pieces of paper for things they wanted, and I couldn't figure out why the pieces of paper were such a big deal. The boys would tell me it was money, that this person was using money to buy that thing he wanted, and I get it about trading except I didn't see why the second person wanted those pieces of paper. But I get it now!
"Everybody has a job they do, like maybe they work in a..." Runner hesitated, "... a fictory..."
I tried to follow the context. "A factory?"
Runner laughed and pointed at me. "Right!! I was mixing it up with fiction, I think. Anyway, suppose you work in a factory, where you make..." He looked around the room. "...chairs. So you have these chairs you made. And you want food, but all you have is these chairs. And you see a woman who has food, but he doesn't want chairs. You find some man who wants chairs, but he doesn't have food, he has..." He looked around again. "...shoes that he made. And maybe he does want a chair, and maybe the woman with food wants shoes, so you could trade your chair for shoes and take the shoes to the woman who has food... But the man with shoes, maybe he doesn't want a chair, so you have to keep looking for somebody who wants a chair and has something the woman with food wants...
"But money is so you don't have to do all that! In the factory where you make chairs, you have a boss, and he gives you money, the pieces of paper, because you made the chairs for him. And you can take the money to the lady with the food, and you can trade it to her for the food, and she takes the pieces of paper because she knows she can use them the same way! She knows she can trade the money for something she wants. And your boss at the factory... He gets money because people buy the chairs you made — maybe more money than he paid you to make the chairs, so he has extra money left and he can buy things he wants!" He beamed at me. "It's so simple! When you want to have something, you trade money for it, and people take it because they know they can get things they want with it!"
Runner leaned forward for a hug — he always distributed hugs freely, and usually kisses, when he was this excited. I held Runner, and reflected on how many complex ideas seemed "simple" to Runner. He is very special in so many ways, I realized.
Suddenly, Runner broke off the hug and frowned. "Why don't we use money, Wynn? On TV they do, but we don't."
I wasn't sure how to start. I looked at Marcus, who tentatively offered the same thing that had first come to my mind. But it seemed so far from a complete explanation that I hesitated. "We're slaves, Runner." I looked at Runner hopefully, with a does-that-help-at-all? expression.
Runner's frown deepened, and he seemed to go into some internal zone. I could almost see the wheels turning inside his head, the collation of all available information.
Runner suddenly took on an astonished expression, his eyes wide, and whispered, "People don't give money to us, they pay money to have us." His excitement flooding back, he bounced slightly on his seat on the bed. "We're not the woman who makes the chairs. We're the chairs!! People want us! Because we can hang!! I don't see anybody hang on TV like we can! There was a boy on a game show, but he couldn't do it anything like us!" Runner had increased his hanging time to five minutes, and was making a number of advanced moves — his ability now went far beyond that of any boy outside the building. "People buy us because we can do something they want to see!"
I looked at Runner in amazement. I could now check off several items on my mental to-do list. I hadn't felt ready yet to explain why there was such a place as the Academy, and what a "slave" really was. The explanations would involve so many ideas that Runner had not yet grasped. Now Runner seemed to have worked it out entirely on his own.
What remained was to get across to Runner that a Hanging Boy was bought for a single performance, ending in his death. But now I wasn't worried that Runner wouldn't understand that yet. It was the way the subject related to my own future that made me hesitant.
We have to talk about that very soon, I reminded myself again.
Puppy was excited by the flow of affection, and rubbed against Runner with a yearning whine. Runner began stroking him.
That Afternoon
Tina smiled as I arrived at the Dean's office. I knew from her face that something was up. Tina was struggling to avoid giggling.
I entered the office, and saw Holden sitting in one of the chairs. That was a bit of a surprise: I'd thought he was working out in the gym. I smiled and nodded to him. "Hi, Holden." I turned then to the Dean, with Holden's sudden giggle adding further to the mystery. "Sir?"
The Dean simply turned to Holden, smiled, and shook his head in wonder.
I loved jokes as much as anyone, but I preferred to be in on them. I turned back to Holden. "Okay, come on, what..."
The expression on Holden's face stopped me in mid-sentence. The amusement, the air of something mischievous going on, that all seemed normal. Behind that, though, were clear indications: this was a boy who had never seen me before.
I gasped and slapped my own cheek. I had rarely felt so stupid. I had known this was coming. In fact, I was expecting it in a few days. Holden, Marcus, Zuchter and I had all been growing tense with anticipation. Especially Holden. Yet when I first saw this boy, there was just no visual cue to tip me off that this was anyone other than Holden.
I breathed, "You're Hamish, aren't you?" I looked to the Dean for confirmation.
The Dean nodded, smiling again. "I did have a sense that they look quite a lot alike. But I haven't spent nearly as much time with Holden as you have. I thought your reaction might be different."
I just stood staring at Hamish, who colored a little at the intense examination. Yes, I thought, I've spent a lot of time with Holden, sharing meals with him in the caf, helping him with hanging practice, and many, many nights in bed with him. "Hamish..." Even calling him by his correct name wasn't easy. Hamish was the distant unseen brother, Holden the one present in my life. "I'm Wynn. I'm... sort of your brother's mentor, I guess you'd say." Hamish had already been processed in as a permanent resident — he was wearing the standard white First Year uniform and "Slave Boy" collar; that also made it hard to tell him apart from Holden. "Do you want to go see him?"
Hamish looked ready to leap out of his chair. "Oh yes, please!..." He turned immediately to the Dean. "May I go, Sir?" His voice was Holden's as well.
The Dean nodded, and said, "He's all signed in. I'd like to see all three of you in a few days, to talk about their joint presentations at parties. I'm sure you and Holden will fill him in on the details by then."
"Yes, Sir. Ummm... Sir?"
"Yes?"
"It really would be helpful to have some way of telling them apart." I rubbed my chin in thought. "What if... You know those letters boys sometimes wear on necklaces? Their initials? I think if we got a letter 'O' for Holden, and an 'A' for Hamish, that's all we really need. The letters could attach right to the ring on the front of their collars, maybe."
The Dean nodded. "I'll have Tina order something like that."
I grinned at Hamish and took his hand. It was trembling with excitement. "Let's go see if Holden's back from the gym."
Almost breathlessly, Hamish said, "Okay," and picked up a bookbag from the floor beside his seat. I blinked — students were allowed to bring a few personal possessions from home, but it wasn't often a load of books.
The top of the bag was slightly open, and I saw a three-ring binder on top. Oh, of course. I guessed the rest of the bag contained more of the same. I pointed. "Diary?"
Hamish looked a little startled. "For Holden, yeah."
I smiled. "I know all about it."
I couldn't stop shaking my head in amazement. We had passed a half dozen boys in the hallways, each of whom had smiled at Hamish and me with barely a glance, one of them saying, "Hi Wynn, Holden." Not one perceived Hamish as a stranger. I was eager to see the reactions of the boys who knew Holden much better.
I pushed open the door to our room. Marcus was industriously scribbling at his desk for a class assignment. He looked up and smiled at me. "So what'd the Dean want? Oh, hi Holden. You done already?"
I burst out laughing. Every boy's first meeting with Hamish would be a one-time-only thing. I wanted to savor the moments. "Where's Zuchter?"
Marcus gestured with his head toward the window. "Out jogging with Puppy. I imagine Runner's still in the library."
"Could you signal Zuchter to get back in here? Then I'll go find Runner. I want everybody here when Holden gets back."
Marcus looked back and forth between Hamish and me, puzzled. "Wynn, he's standing right..." Then he must have seen the same meeting-a-stranger look on Hamish's face that had given it away to me. His eyes got wide, and he squeaked in a near-whisper, "Hamish?"
Hamish and I both laughed. Marcus stood and crept closer for a better look. "Wow!" He threw his arms around Hamish. "It is so nice to meet you. Holden's tried to be patient, but he's been biting his nails for the last couple of weeks. I imagine you've been the same."
Hamish brushed a sudden tear away. "Oh yeah."
I said to Hamish, "You are used to the mix-ups, right?"
Hamish shrugged. "Not exactly. We've spent a long time around people who know both of us, and they're kind of used to us. Every once in awhile in the last year I'd run into somebody and they'd say, 'I thought you went to the Hanging Academy,' but mostly they know about us. People we're really close to can tell us apart. Some of the time, anyway."
I gestured to Marcus again to go to the window, and said, "Everybody gets pretty close around here."
Marcus opened the window, waited for Zuchter to come around and whistled, then gave him a come-here gesture. Zuchter came straight toward the window, Puppy trotting beside him, and Marcus gestured toward the building entrance.
A minute later Zuchter appeared in the doorway, wiping away some sweat with a towel he'd been carrying. Puppy came straight in and licked the back of my leg, looking for some fondling. I knelt and began petting him, but I was watching Zuchter.
Zuchter glanced at Hamish. "Done already?" Then he turned to Marcus. "What's up?"
Marcus grinned at him. "Notice anything different about Holden?"
Zuchter turned to regard Hamish, frowning. After a moment he shook his head, and turned back to Marcus. "What's the joke...?" He gasped suddenly and whipped back around, staring at Hamish. "Are you...?"
I laughed. "Zuchter, meet Hamish. You two start getting acquainted while I go find Runner."
Hamish was looking down at Puppy, astonished. "You've got a puppyboy?"
Marcus started explaining, "It's a long story..."
Runner walked beside me down the hall toward the room, eager to discuss the book he'd found. "It's for second graders. 'Moreland and Donald Skin Dad.' It's about two brothers and the stuff they do to get ready to skin their Other Dad for fur. They don't really do it all by themselves, but it's all about how good it is to help with family things..."
He was still talking as we passed through the door into the room. Runner suddenly stopped short and stared at Hamish, who was looking back at the new arrival. In an astonished voice, Runner asked, "Who are you? You look just like Holden does!"
I spun toward Runner, my jaw dropping open, unable to speak for a moment. At last I stammered out, "What... H-how do you know it's not Holden?"
Runner shook his head. "He's just like Holden, but..." He stopped, looking as if he was searching for words. "He's not looking at me right."
I felt my knees get weak. I was constantly amazed by Runner, but this was a new ability I hadn't encountered before. The rest of the boys had done the same thing within a few seconds — reading the lack of recognition on Hamish's face when he met them. It was an easy enough task, with the training Hanging Boys go through. But Runner had done it much more quickly than anybody else, so fast that it seemed instantaneous — and without any formal training at all. And without knowing Holden nearly as long.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Okay, I told myself, he's just the world's most natural Hanging Boy. Get used to it. I cleared my throat. "Runner, this is Holden's brother, Hamish. Remember?" We had discussed Hamish on a few occasions.
"Oh, yeah." Runner grinned. "Hi." He stepped forward and hugged Hamish. "We could sleep together tonight so I can get to know you better."
I almost strangled myself holding back a laugh, and again when I saw Hamish's wide-eyed reaction. Runner was still working on social conventions. I said gently, "Not tonight, I think, Runner. I think he and Holden are going to want to spend some time together."
"Oh!" Runner nodded his head. "Okay, I get it." He gave Hamish a quick kiss and let go, then knelt on the floor to greet Puppy, who had been bouncing on his front legs, whining for attention. Puppy licked Runner's face as Runner began petting him.
Zuchter suddenly raised his arms. "Hssshht!" And now I heard footsteps approaching the door. We waited in silence, listening to Hamish's increasingly fast breathing.
Holden appeared in the doorway, and blinked at the unexpected number of people in the room. "What's..." Then he finished a more complete census of who was present.
They took off at a run for each other, grunting at the chest-to-chest impact, and I decided it was a good thing they hadn't spotted each other from any greater distance — they hadn't had enough space to get up a dangerous collision speed. They both were sobbing immediately, each with the side of his head pressed against the other's, four arms seeming to try to touch everything at once. They turned their heads to kiss, mouths wide open, still crying, and simultaneously reached to fumble with shirts.
Marcus and Zuchter, their own eyes streaming with tears, had each grabbed books and a pile of papers and were already backing into the hallway. I tapped Runner's shoulder, and whispered, "We need to go."
Runner, his mouth hanging open, shook his head vaguely. "I want to watch." In front of him, the two boys finished shrugging off their shirts, and reached down to unzip each other's shorts. Their crying had turned into breathy moans.
I smiled and pulled Runner up to a standing position. "Runner, they need some time alone. We can spend a lot of time with both of them later."
Reluctantly, Runner stood and followed me, with Puppy following. I closed the door to the room, muffling the sounds of still-vertical lovemaking within.
I hesitated at the door of our second room. My "family," the term I had begun applying to Marcus, Zuchter, Holden and me, had swollen to six members with the addition of Runner and Puppy, and we had taken to distributing ourselves in varying groupings between two different rooms in the Second Year dorm. This late in the school year, there were several vacant rooms, so the arrangement caused no trouble. We'll need three rooms now. Holden and Hamish should have their own space. And I think we need to start now. Marcus and Zuchter both have work to do. I want to talk to Runner, and it'd be better if we don't bother the others.
I told Marcus and Zuchter "We'll see you guys in awhile," and left Puppy in their care. I took Runner's hand and led him down the hall... Okay, I remembered, room 12 is empty. Grady had moved out after his roommate Cecil was hanged at a demo.
As soon as I closed the door, Runner began shedding his clothes. He always did when we were alone together. I shrugged out of my uniform as well. I wanted to work on clarifying some nuances of pair relationships like Holden's and Hamish's, and thought that emphasizing some of the features of our pairing would help.
I sat on the bed and Runner joined me. Runner spoke first, with a slight frown. "That book I was reading..."
I remembered. "The boys helping skin their Dad?"
Runner nodded. "Moreland and Donald. I was just thinking... Free prey get to decide when they want to be skinned, right? And who gets their fur?"
"And some slaves, too. Hanging Boys get to choose."
Runner, who had been visibly tense, suddenly broke into an excited smile. "That's what I was going to ask! We can decide too? After somebody buys us, and we do some hanging for them, we can say when we want them to skin us? On the island, I don't think slaves get to decide anything. It's different here. Prey can do things, they can make things and build things, just because they want to, they can build themselves to be who they want. And when they've finished being what they want to be, then they get to say it's time to be fur. But Wynn, how do you know when it's time? Is there like a feeling inside, where you know it's right?..."
When Runner got a new idea, it was off to the conversational races. As a result, he had got this far before I realized that Runner was handing me the key to the subject I had worried about bringing up. I grinned and took both of Runner's hands. "Wait, wait, slow down. It's not quite like you're thinking..."
Runner frowned again, and I could read the fleeting thought in Runner that his hopes were going to be dashed, but Runner could see my smile. "Okay..." He waited for me to go on.
"Runner... When somebody buys us, it's just to hang one time. We do all our kicking, all the things you're learning, for as long as we can, until we're dead." I hesitated. "You understand what it means to be dead, right?"
Runner nodded vigorously. "Oh, sure. It's like you go to sleep and you never wake up, and that's when you're skinned. Oh!!" Runner had that expression I'd so often seen: the lightbulb had gone on. "Everything we learn about hanging is for that one time, and then we hang and we don't stop, and after awhile we're dead. And they skin us then! And we get to decide when all of that happens?"
I nodded, my eyes glowing. "This is why we're here, Runner. When somebody buys one of us, they have a big party..." Runner knew about parties. "...and they have all of their family and friends come to watch the Hanging Boy, and he does what we call a 'show.' He does everything he learned to do here, and the people at the party get very excited, watching, because they can't see a show, like we can do, anywhere else. Only boys from the Academy can do what we do. They watch the Hanging Boy until he dies, and then they skin him. Or, more often, they pay a professional to skin him and preserve the fur."
Runner suddenly realized his original question wasn't quite answered. "So... how do you know when it's time to do that?"
"Well, when you're a student at the Academy, there are things you have to do. You know how Marcus and Zuchter are always going to 'classes'?" Runner nodded, and I went on, "In the classes, that's where they teach you new things that you need to know to be a good Hanging Boy. The classes go on for three years..." I knew that Runner had picked up the idea of a "year" being a length of time, though he might not know exactly how long it was, "...and when you finish, you know you're ready to hang and be skinned. So it's really easier for Hanging Boys to know when it's time."
Runner clenched his fists excitedly. "Hanging Boys who finish are graduates! Right? You're a graduate, aren't you, Wynn? I heard other boys say that about you. You don't go to classes! You finished. And Holden, he's a graduate too. He doesn't go to classes either."
I shook my head. "No, Holden hasn't really even started yet. He's been waiting until Hamish could get here, and they're going to take classes together. But I'm finished, yes. Right now I'm the only graduate left, until some more boys finish. All of the boys who graduated at the same time I did have had their shows, and they're dead and skinned. I would have done it by now, but..." He smiled. "My brother kind of got in the way, and I ended up on the island. But I'm glad that happened, because I met you."
Runner smiled and kissed me. I somehow knew it wasn't because of what I'd just said, but because Runner had learned something he considered important. At the end of the kiss, Runner gasped suddenly. He looked at me wide-eyed. "So when are you going to do your show?"
I bit my lip. The conversation seemed to be going well, but I was still uncertain about his reaction. "Soon, I think. I haven't set it up to happen yet, but I'm going to try to do that in a few days." I'd been doing something unheard of for a Hanging Boy — procrastinating on my own hanging — until I found a way to clear this up with Runner. I felt a rush of warmth and excitement rush into me. If I can get to the end of this talk with Runner and everything is still okay, that's the last hurdle! I thought about how to specify a time to Runner, and the obvious hit me. "Do you know how long you've been here now, at the Academy?" Runner shook his head uncertainly, and I went on. "Well, it's about one month. I'm going to try to do my show in about one more month."
My heart sank when I saw the sudden cloud take over Runner's face. Had I misread him somehow?
"Wynn..." Runner's lip was quivering. "Won't I get your fur? Your owner will skin you. On the island, you said I could have some of you." A tear started down his cheek.
Is that all the assurance he needs? I smiled and kissed Runner. "You can have me! Not all of me, but you don't want to keep me all to yourself, do you? Other people will share, but I promise you can be at the party. And afterward, you'll get a piece of my fur. I'll make sure whoever buys me knows you have to be there and get some of my fur. You can have me with you always. Okay?"
The sudden light of Runner's face, emerging from behind the clouds, was almost blinding. I couldn't remember seeing him this happy about anything before. "Yes!!" Runner threw his arms around me and almost squeezed the breath out of me. Then he fastened his lips to mine for his most passionate kiss ever. He looked at me, tears of joy washing away the earlier ones of sorrow. "Wynn, I love you!"
Everything I felt about Runner came to the surface of my mind. Runner had never said those words before — likely he had only recently learned, from movies, that it was something you said when you felt this way. I returned the kiss with interest. "And I love you, Runner."
Runner sank onto his back on the bed and pulled me down on top of him. Lips locked together, arms and legs entangled, moving against each other, we didn't say any more words for a long time.