Keeper (Seed Savers) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  1 - Lily's Bad News

  2 - Ma's Origami Crane

  3 - How James Escaped

  4 - A New Plan

  5 - The Hummingbird Story

  6 - Rose Gets A New Home

  7 - Leaving The Mountain

  8 - Rose's Training

  9 - I Want to Bring The Keeper Back

  10 - It's All A Lie

  11 - Jason Apologizes

  12 - Portland

  13 - Earth Day Demonstrations

  14 - News From the Outside

  15 - May Day

  16 - Lily Ventures Out

  17 - Clare and Dante Get Their Trowels

  18 - Clare Tells Jason the Bad News

  19 - Turbulent Times

  20 - Hacktivists

  21 - Clare and Dante Arrive in Portland

  22 - Driving West

  23 - Reunited

  24 - Rose's Final Class

  25 - Meeting of Seed Savers

  26 - Fuel For The Fire

  27 - News of Unrest

  28 - Sighting

  29 - Streets of Portland

  30 - Rose City

  31 - The Three Musketeers Sneak Out

  32 - Longest Day

  33 - Trinia's Orders

  34 - The Revolution Will Be Televised

  35 - Natalie

  36 - Lily's Plan

  37 - Rumors of a Splinter

  38 - Privatization

  39 - Needle in a Haystack

  40 - Forgiven

  41 - Round Table

  42 - Friction Between Friends

  43 - "We Have a Match!"

  44 - Message for Clare

  45 - Bait

  46 - The Meadow

  47 - Clare's Late Arrival

  48 - The Vote

  Keeper

  Seed Savers, 4

  S. Smith

  ****

  Keeper (Seed Savers 4)

  Copyright © 2015 S. Smith

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN-978-1-943345-04-5

  978-1-943345-02-1 (Paperback)

  Sandra L. Smith

  Cover image by Aileen Smith

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ****

  For Mom and Dad.

  *****

  An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.

  Gandhi

  *****

  1

  Lily's Bad News

  Whisper Creek Village — Smoky Mountains — September

  I set down the warm cup of tea that I had been cradling in both hands. I had tried to drink it, I really had. But the tiny dried leaves stuck in my teeth or slipped down my throat despite my best effort.

  “Mr. Ezra—”

  “—Grandpa Ezra.” A large gap-toothed grin threatened to erase his eyes.

  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I, uh, I need to go see my dad now.” I loved saying that, my dad. I rose to go.

  The old man lifted his eyebrows and laughed. He stood, taking my hands, and held them in his.

  “It is good,” he said.

  I smiled at the others and nodded goodbye. They raised their eyebrows.

  It cracked me up the way the Islanders often spoke with only their eyes.

  Once outside I walked toward Dad’s cabin, squelching the urge to skip or laugh out loud, though the vanilla scent of Joe-Pye weed egged me on. I smiled and thought that maybe someday I would laugh as freely as the villagers.

  Here’s what I’d learned about Grandpa Ezra and his clan in the time I’d been here: When the oceans rose and the islands were going under, his people were given asylum in the U.S. because of an agreement struck in the last century. Unlike other climate refugees who were relocated to specific areas, these Islanders were allowed to settle wherever they wanted. Although the Smoky Mountains seemed an unlikely place for people used to the sea, Grandpa Ezra didn’t see it that way.

  To him the mountains are an island. The traditions and cultures of his people are kept alive here. The children are not swallowed up and changed by the dominant culture.“It is important,” the old woman Naomi had told me, “that our children learn our ways. How to live off the land. How to play in the forest rather than a playground.” I recalled her slow, deliberate voice and sparkling eyes: “To share, to make music. To dance. Lily-girl, why walk when you can dance?”

  Why walk when you can dance? I skipped the rest of the way to Dad’s cabin.

  I loved that the cabins here all had names and that Dad’s was called the Keeper after the underground newspaper he and Ma had created during the first resistance. I loved the plants that grew around it and hung from the eaves in pots and baskets. That Dad purposely attracted hummingbirds outside every window with his careful choice of flowers: red geraniums, orange nasturtiums, and pink petunias. He didn’t care if the colors clashed as long as the birds kept coming. I loved the way Dad said “winduhs” instead of windows. ‘Look out the winduh, Lily,’ he said every time the hummingbirds zipped to and fro.

  I loved so much about this place, about my dad, though we were still just getting to know each other.

  “What’s next?” I asked him after a few minutes of small talk. I kept bringing up the Movement; he kept avoiding it.

  “I think we should let your mom know where you are.”

  “Sure,” I said. “You can do that?”

  He gave me a look that said, What do you think? I am James Gardener, after all.

  “Oh yeah, right.” I wasn’t about to bring up the security breach that had landed him in jail and devastated the Movement.

  “And maybe—” he was looking down, talking to his feet, “—maybe send you back to her.”

  I didn’t see it coming. The happiness I’d felt seconds earlier dissolved like snow in hot water. Neither did I anticipate the tears. I ran toward the door with my head down.

  “I just remembered something,” I called, keeping my voice steady.

  “Lily.”

  “Hey, slow down. Where you going?”

  I kept running, not wanting to explain my tears. Arturo ran after me, his hand soon catching my shoulder.

  “What’s up, Lily?”

  My nose was running and I sniffed as I met his gaze. “Nothing. Just jogging.” I sniffed again and dabbed at my watery eyes. “I think I have allergies.”

  I watched his face closely. Was he struggling with the word allergy, or trying to decide whether or not to believe me?

  “Oh,” he said at last. “Me, too.” He sniffed and coughed a dry little cough. “I am not accustomed to this forest.”

  As we walked along the path, I let the sweet mountain air calm and soothe me.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” I said. The woods were absolutely gorgeous. The trees, changing clothes in the fresh fall air, were a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Very peaceful. And the weather is not so hot.”

  “I’m learning the names of some of the flowers. These are false foxgloves,” I said, breaking off the end of a purple stalk.

  “Like Aubrey’s hillside.”

  “Yes, I think so. And yesterday I learned black-eyed Susan and skunk goldenrod.”

  He smiled. “Ew, skunk? Is it stinky?”

 
“Hence the name.”

  We laughed.

  “I like here,” he said. “Is better than the places we pass through.”

  “But it was an adventure,” I said. “And it did have its scenic moments.” I was thinking of the view from the fire tower and the place where we swam.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “The birds here very good,” he added.

  We went on like that for awhile, talking about nature, reminiscing about the incredible journey that brought us here. Before I knew it, I was crying again.

  “This is happy crying?” Arturo asked, in shock. Hoping, maybe.

  I burst out in a combination laugh/cry as I turned and threw my arms around his neck, shaking my head no. He patted my back. “’S okay, Lily. ’S okay.”

  2

  Ma's Origami Crane

  “So your father, he say he gonna to send you back?”

  After I’d regained my composure I told Arturo what had happened. I had to. I’m not the kind of girl who cries easily, and the allergy excuse wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Not really,” I said. “But he wondered if he should. I mean, I brought it up. I’m, like, always bugging him about what’s going to happen next. I had this goal of finding him, but I never thought about what would happen afterward. It’s my fault for asking.”

  Arturo breathed in deeply and let it out slowly.

  “Well?” I said.

  “Well, what?”

  “Don’t you have anything to say?”

  “No.” He shook his head slightly. “No, I don’t.”

  I felt like slugging him but didn’t have the energy. You’re a big help, I thought. But this time I didn’t say it out loud. I was getting better at not blurting out my every thought.

  When we reached the stream, Arturo sat with his back against a tall, flat rock. I sat just inside his legs, his arms looping over my shoulders from behind. We sat quietly like this for a while, listening to the water lap along, a fish jump here, a bird fly there. The wind singing in the trees, tugging at the fall leaves.

  “What do you think?” he finally asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “What do you think should—mm— happen next?”

  “I—uh—I don’t know. That’s why I asked my dad. But I sure didn’t come all this way to go back to Ma!” I spun around and glared at him.

  “Okay, okay.”

  I turned back around, resting against his chest. A new thought occurred to me.

  “Arturo?”

  “Jess?”

  “You don’t have to leave, do you?” I stared ahead, not daring to breathe until I heard the right answer.

  “No, querida. I stay with you, whatever is happen.”

  Later, Dad explained that he just wanted to make sure I was safe. Apologized if he had hurt me. I guess my exit ruse hadn’t worked, after all.

  “You see, Lily, we can’t stay here forever. This is just a temporary shelter. Until I get back on my feet.”

  I crinkled my brow. Get back on his feet?

  “I wasn’t in the best health when I arrived.”

  My temper lurched, angry at whomever had hurt my dad.

  He read my mood as easily as his daily news briefs. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Our friends have taken great care of me. But we’ve been planning the remainder of my journey and —”

  “—and I wasn’t a part of the plan.”

  He nodded. “I’m an escaped convict, Sweetheart.”

  And I’m just a dumb kid—extra baggage slowing him down. I almost started crying again. It took every ounce of willpower to hold it together. And a deflection.

  “Do you have any tissues, Dad? I seem to have allergies.”

  “In my bedroom.”

  I headed toward the door.

  “By the bed,” he called as I made my escape.

  I stepped into Dad’s room. Small, simple. A bed, chair, nightstand. Two bamboo poles grew from the foot of the bed with a cross pole that held four hangers: three filled, one empty. The extent of my father’s clothing? I gazed around the room. Sure enough, there was no closet, only a small chest of drawers in the corner.

  I walked to the nightstand where the box of tissues sat. Next to the tissues was a stack of books. Another pile of books slumped against the bed. I scanned the titles, curious to see what Dad read.

  As barren as Dad’s room was, his simple lifestyle laid out like a map, I wanted more. I pulled open the single drawer of the nightstand. I gasped at what I saw and tugged a little too hard. The drawer clattered to the floor.

  “Lily? What was that? Everything okay?”

  He was at the door before I could answer.

  “Is that—?” I was bending toward the scattered contents of the drawer.

  “—yes. You knew I replaced hers with mine. But I always kept it. Even in jail.”

  I picked up the origami crane made by my mother so many years ago. It was a beautiful shade of purple with darker purple patterning.

  “I, I don’t understand why you never communicated with us. Especially since you’ve been out,” I said, daring to ask the question I’d held wrapped tightly in my heart since the day I first heard he’d escaped.

  “I left it up to your mother—I mean, before. I promised her I wouldn’t put you in danger. I guess I expected she would write to me. Send photos of you …” His lower lip quivered. “She never did. Anyway, a promise is a promise.” He was quiet for a moment. “I’m sure she knows I’m out. In fact, after all the hullabaloo that’s been happening back home lately, I’m kind of surprised they haven’t hauled your mom in for questioning. I hear they’ve been picking on Ana.”

  I’d forgotten that Dad and Ana knew each other. He had listened to my story with little interruption when we first met. The villagers had kept me busy since then. In a celebration lasting days, we had done little but eat, dance, and tell stories.

  The elders had taken turns telling island stories, beginning with the creation of their islands, and ending with the waters swallowing them up: the circle of life. They lamented the passing of their islands, wailing and beating their chests, but then moved on with joy and laughter recounting the settling of their present home—their new island, they called it. An island farther up, they said. In the sky. It will be a long time before this island is swallowed up, Grandpa Ezra had sung out with the conviction of an old crow and cackling like one.

  How we danced during those three days! At first I had danced only with Dad and Arturo, but I soon learned that wouldn’t do. You weren’t allowed to refuse partners, and everyone wanted to be my partner. Children, old women, girls my age, boys my age. It was all dancing and laughter, and it was all good. I have never been to Disney Galaxy, but I think the hidden Islander village may just be the happiest place on earth.

  “Um. Yeah,” I told Dad. “As far as I know, Ma never got questioned. I mean, the police talked to her after Clare and Dante disappeared, but I wasn’t home. If they questioned her as a former Seed Saver, she never told me.” I wanted to spew out something bitter. Something like, ‘We never really talked,’ or ‘I can’t believe our whole life together was a lie.’ But for my dad’s sake I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I said, “Should we attach this one to the string? I don’t see why it has to be just one parent having a crane added. This is 2077, after all.”

  My dad smiled. “Sure.”

  “Yo, James!”

  Chief had entered the cabin and stood in the main room. “There is a small problem.”

  Dad’s eyebrows shifted in alarm.

  “As you know, Arturo and Lily came to us on a motorcycle. A bike which was then borrowed for a time by some of our young men. Though the perpetrators have been caught and justice done, it seems the boys turned on the nav-map while enjoying the ride. We have heard from federal employees that the bike is linked to suspicious persons. The Feds have asked to come onto Native lands.”

  “Shoot,” Dad said. He looked at Chief, waiting to hear more.

  “Those dummies,” I said. Then, re
membering it wasn’t my conversation, “Sorry.” Chief looked at me without speaking, and I felt myself shrink in front of him.

  “We don’t have to allow them on our land,” Chief said. “But I think it is better if we do. The boys did not ride up here. We can tell them the truth, that the bike was found by the side of the road. Maybe forget the exact location.” He smiled. “Maybe they found it over at Bryson City and only turned the nav-map on after a few days’ horsing around.” He shrugged, pushed his lower lip out. “Can be a good story, I think.”

  “But it’s still bad,” Dad said. “They know that Lily and Arturo were in Florida. They can guess where she was headed. They’ll guess I’m no longer there, or even in the south.”

  They knew I was in Florida?

  “My friend, that is true. But they will not find you. Perhaps you stay with us longer than you were planning. Leaving now would be worse. Sit tight, James. Everything will be fine. But the Feds, they’ll keep—” he turned to me, “What did you call the bike?”

  “Bronco.”

  “Yes. They will keep Bronco. But don’t worry. There is nothing Bronco can tell them.” He smiled. “Seems those perps did quite a number on Bronco before I apprehended them.”

  3

  How James Escaped

  As it turned out, Jenny Jakeo and I didn’t get along. Unlike the other girls who were quiet and modest, Jenny was a show-off and always looking for Arturo’s attention. So I spent my last daylight hours every day walking with Arturo rather than hanging out at my host home.That, and we had gotten used to each other during our journey from Florida. Arturo had managed to glean quite a lot of information about the village and filled me in during our long evening walks.

  “They say the Islanders choose this place in all the mountain for the village because is mostly—how you say—water all around.”