Issue 30 (Jul 2011)
There had been another boy at the school, called Ender, but he’d attacked and seriously hurt and in at least one case we knew of killed one of the other boys, and they finally had to put him down, though he kept protesting, the day they came for him, that it wasn’t his fault.
He left, crates filled with earth, bound for England. Left us behind, promising to send for us. We believed him. But as the days went by, I realized he’d lied.
For you, the Day of the Redeemer is a day to throw off the genteel and chaste Iaran shackles of society, let your hair down (or preen your crest feathers or touch-up your nacreous black lips), raise your petticoats and fulfill your every desire.
Alex Haley, a man big on freedom and dignity, once said, “When you clench your fist, no one can put anything in your hand.” Well, my hands were clenched when the woman’s business card appeared in one of them as I sat outside of Beanie’s Café sipping a zebra mocha.