Marigold by Heather Manheim (best books for 8th graders .TXT) 📕

Buster agreed, and Davis found out that a soft coat on a docile cat was great for absorbing tears. She nodded off with one arm wrapped around the cat, Buster’s head resting on her bicep. She awoke with what felt like only a few minutes later when Buster got up and went to the door. “Oh, you’re leaving too, are you, turncoat?” Buster looked at her with all the sympathy a cat can muster. “I’m sorry, Buster, you’re a good baby. Good kitty.” And she went to let him out the door. When she opened the door, she saw The Great Gatsby lying there with a note attached:

Feel better, Old Sport. —b

Davis found the note odd. She hadn’t said anything about feeling sick or unwell. Perhaps Namaguchi didn’t want to say too much, and he kept it simple. Either way, Davis decided she would spend the rest of the day in her room reading, napping, and ignoring the world inside the bunker once more. She missed the lunch that Ana and Quinn served that day, although someone dropped off a tray at her door. All went untouched except the water. She didn’t even bother to bring the tray in her room, just picked up the water glass, turned around, and went back into her room, closing the door behind her. Davis wasn’t trying to be rude; she was just too tired to try and pretend she had any enthusiasm about anything right now.

Davis also skipped dinner and took a nap, sliding back into her old routine of late-night living. After she was sure everyone had gone to bed, she crept out to the kitchen to get some food and water to drink. To her surprise, Namaguchi was standing there and saw her before she had a chance to leave. “Hello, Davis, come on in.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just want to get a drink of water.”

“You’re not disturbing me; come in. Help yourself to whatever you might want in here. By the way, I talked to Ringo about you leaving. It might take a couple of days to finalize logistics. While you’re waiting, feel free to continue to eat your meals with us, if you want. It’s up to you.”

“Can I ask you a question, Namaguchi?”

“Yes, of course.”

“How well do you know President Everett? Do you work with him one-on-one? How can you justify arranging for his murder?”

“Well, that’s a few different questions. First, I know President Everett very well. I knew him before he even was President; I was a professor at the school he attended. He took a chemistry class of mine, and I thought he was bright and already well-educated. So, I offered to mentor him. We became friends, and from there, after the incident when the Lombardi Plague got created—well, he was my friend. His story checked out. It didn’t occur to me then that he could be lying. When he wanted me to be an advisor after he got elected, I felt honored, maybe a bit puffed up over the title. But I also felt good about everything we were doing. I was on mind control for so many years. Afterward, I started to notice things, things he did that were cruel or manipulative. But I was scared, too. He was my friend and the President. So, I kept quiet; I had to fight it myself whenever I doubted him. But, soon enough, it became too much to overlook. Second, I don’t work with him one-on-one. He is never without at least four or five Security Patrol Guards, so that would be impossible. But he’s also intensely private and tends to pass laws and such on his own, without help. Lastly, you asked how I can turn on him and help plan his murder? Well, I just know, in my heart, he is an evil man. Take away the lying. The mass manipulation. The control of the people. Do you know how many deaths he directly caused? If he were a civilian, they’d call him a serial killer. Why should he be protected from justice just because he is President?”

“Has he killed people himself, killed people with his own hands?” asked Davis in shock.

“No, well—maybe. I’m honestly not sure about that. But what is the difference between ordering death and doing the deed yourself? In my mind, there is no difference.”

“One thing I don’t understand is you guys keep talking about this mind control and that our freedoms are gone. But we have libraries full of books and movies. We have ‘family nights’ where we play board games and sports with each other and mingle. All religions are allowed. Homosexuality is technically illegal, but they don’t widely enforce the law. I don’t understand where all the deficit in our freedoms is. As far as I know, except for the Pod living, assigned workforce, and plural marriage, much is the same as it ever was before the plague. And the changes were to protect us and help repopulate the earth.”

“Well, that’s both the evil and the genius in President Everett’s plans. He took away your private homes and business, but he built these Pods that provide warm beds, a shower, medical exam, food, great libraries with all those movies and books. It’s natural not to think about what is lacking when the government provides all your necessities. Especially when done under the guise that it’s for your health and well-being.” Namaguchi paused here and rolled his eyes up, looking at the ceiling, as if he were trying to gather his next thoughts. “Yes, you can go to church, too. The same church your family has gone to for generations or a new one altogether. But, the official religion of the United State is Everettisim. Does President Everett care if you believe he is the only one with direct communication with God and he is the final word here? Not really, because Everett still has the final word on what we do, say,