The List by Patricia Forde

Author:Patricia Forde
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2017-06-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

#487

Winter

Cold time of year

As she climbed the steps to Noa’s house, Letta realized she felt no fear. She had been in awe of John Noa before, looked up to him as the man who had saved the planet. She had grown up on stories of his great valor, his clever thinking, his vision. Now she knew that none of that was real. John Noa was a bully. That thought made her brave. He might be a very clever bully, but he was still a bully.

She had gone over the plan with Finn, but even as Finn was talking, her mind was working independently. She wanted to trust her instincts, and her instincts told her that she could play a part. She would pretend she was still the girl she had been yesterday.

She had almost reached the top of the steps. She rehearsed what she would say and how she would say it. She opened the gate. From the corner of her eye, she saw movement in the downstairs window, eyes always watching no doubt. She marched up to the door and knocked firmly. A gavver opened it. He frowned but said nothing.

“I come see John Noa,” Letta said. “Tell him wordsmith here.”

The man looked her up and down, his eyes raking her from scalp to sole. Then he stood back and allowed her to pass.

“Wait,” he growled, before heading off down the long corridor.

She waited. A few minutes later, John Noa himself hurried up toward her. His face was creased in a frown and his eyes were full of concern.

“Letta?” he said. “Is everything all right?”

She forced a smile. “Yes, of course,” she said. “I am so sorry to bother you again, but you did say if I needed to talk to you…and I was worried about Amelia.”

“Amelia is much better today, thank you. Now come with me and we can talk in private.”

Letta tried to keep her mind blank as she followed him down the corridor to where it swung right and past two closed doors: one marked Laboratory, the other wordless. Finally, he came to his own study door. He opened it, and Letta could see the huge desk and the chair behind it. Another two chairs stood on the far side. On the desk itself there was very little, and Letta’s heart sank when she saw how tidy the room was. She had imagined mounds of papers and files that would give her a hope of finding something useful.

“How can I help you, Letta?” said John Noa, sitting now behind his desk and looking at her, giving her his full attention.

She sat down opposite him.

“I came here yesterday to ask you if you might consider adding some words to the new List.”

She watched as the dark eyes clouded over. He sat back in his chair.

“New words?” he repeated. “I’m not sure what you mean. Our aim is to curtail the use of language. As you know, throwing words around is quite irresponsible, considering our history. What did you have in mind?”

“Nothing too radical.

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