One of Us by Jeannie Waudby

time I met him; as if I’ve known him always. I stand beside the motorbike, trying to stop smiling.
    Oskar drops the wire cutters into the motorbike crate. “Everything OK?”
    â€œNot bad,” I manage to say.
    He sits down on a granite stone, and pats the space beside him. I thought we’d be leaving straight away, but I sit down too.
    â€œHow’s it going? It must be difficult pretending to conform to their beliefs?”
    I shake my head. “They don’t really talk in their services.” I pick moss off the rock. “Except Brer Magnus, in his afternoon talks. Every day. Endlessly.” I fix my face into Brer Magnus’s stare. “Nonbelievers!” I deepen my voice. “They corrupted our heritage and stole our country!”
    Oskar doesn’t laugh. “Just be on your guard,” he says. “Don’t forget, K, they’re fanatics.”
    I think of Serafina, and Greg. “Well,” I begin. But then I remember Brer Magnus and Jeremiah’s family.
    Oskar looks at me earnestly, kindly. “They’ll try to get inside your head,” he says. “So keep your witsabout you. I don’t expect you’ve heard anything yet . . .”
    â€œActually . . .” I stop. I was going to tell him about Celestina and Greg being out late at night. Only Greg didn’t tell on me for swimming, and Celestina—I can’t make her out.
    â€œAny little thing, no matter how small,” says Oskar. “Something that seems like an insignificant detail to you might be the missing piece of a bigger picture.”
    â€œThere’s a boy called Jeremiah. Jeremiah Elyard. He was at the Spring Meeting with his family, I think.”
    â€œAh.” Oskar turns to look full into my face, and I see then that his eyes look worried. “The Spring Meeting. Go on.”
    â€œIt’s only that they were talking about . . .” I try to remember exactly what I heard. “How they want action, and they’re tired of words.”
    Oskar smiles into my eyes. “That’s very good, K,” he says. “I didn’t expect you to have anything so soon.” He takes out his phone and notes something down. “Jeremiah Elyard. Well done. Now,” and he puts his phone back in his pocket, “it’s funny you should mention the Spring Meeting, because I want you to get me the list of names of everyone who attended.”
    â€œThey had a visitors’ book . . .” But before I have time to ask him more, his phone rings.
    Oskar leaps up. “Hello? Col? One second, K.” He walks toward the trees, his voice trailing away.
    I stand up and pull my jacket around me, because fine rain has started to fall. It’s heavier than it looks, so I move toward the shelter of the trees.
    I can hear Oskar talking now, his voice low and urgent. “Not Mona?” His voice cracks. “Mona Talbot?” There’s a long silence. Then his voice, very low. “Yes. Yes. I know. Bye.” Twigs snap as he walks back to the clearing. But he doesn’t appear immediately.
    When he does, his face is drawn and gray. “K.” Oskar reaches into his jacket pocket to replace his phone, but it falls to the ground. “I’m sorry.” He stoops to pick it up, grabbing his helmet and jamming it onto his head. “Got to go. There’s been another incident. A bomb scare. At a school in the New City.” He tries to smile at me, but his eyes keep roving toward the road. He looks back at me, as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “K . . .” His gaze travels down my Brotherhood clothes, my wool shoulder bag, and my shoes.
    I glance down. Everything is right. I remembered the hat.
    â€œNow, this is important.” His eyes stare into mine, full of sadness.
    â€œOK. Oskar?” I want to ask him what’s wrong.
    â€œNext time we meet, someone called Ril will come, OK? She’s your