The Dome

Meeting with the Chooser

As she walked along the concrete sidewalks, her days in Ms. C's old nature class came back to her. She wished there were trees, or those little plants that grow in between the cracks of sidewalks. But of course, there were none, just like there were no animals.

When she arrived at the Locking Center, Silasque entered the section labeled 'In Training.' As she walked past the rows and rows of metal safe boxes, she kept an eye out for hers. When she found hers, number '1347,' she inserted her key into the keyhole and opened her safe. Inside was a blank notebook and a pen. She had left them there when she was younger, when her safe was still in the section labeled 'Children.'

She took the notebook and pen out of the safe and ran her hand along the cover of the notebook. She opened up to the first blank page and started writing. Guardians could access everyone's safes, but she didn't care if they punished her for knowing, not anymore. She wrote all about what had happened and what she'd discovered in the past week. She spilled her emotions onto the pages of the notebook and even shed some tears onto the pages. She brought the pages to life with the most details and feelings she'd ever put into writing something. Was this what the old lady felt when she wrote?

Hours seemed to pass before Silasque had finished writing. She had filled a good half of the notebook and the pages were either damp or dry but not flat anymore. Wait, hours?!

Silasque quickly jumped up and shoved the notebook and pen into the safe, locking it and rushing past the rows and rows of metal safe boxes on her way out. Before she exited the Locking Center, Silasque glanced at the clock and to her relief, it hadn't been hours, but she was still late. She didn't have time to go to the People's Center and ask where the Chooser's office was, so she ran through the streets and arrived before a tall building made of bricks. If she guessed correctly, the Chooser's office was in the Tower.

The guards, who were expecting her, eyed her as she walked through the oak double doors. They knew she was going to be in big trouble for being late.

Swallowing the fear that was growing in her chest, Silasque ascended the winding staircase and looked at the metal plates above the doors on each floor. Finally, she saw one that read 'Chooser's Office.' Stepping forward, Silasque took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in," the Chooser invited her in, "And close the door behind you."

Silasque did as she was told and took a seat when the Chooser invited her to do so. What shocked her was that the Chooser didn't seem all that mad that she was late.

"I'm here to talk to you about why I chose you to be the next Guardian," the Chooser explained, looking Silasque in the eyes as he talked.

Silasque nodded and he continued, "Guardian Noah is dying and he told me he wanted someone who could see beyond what is given to take his place. So, I chose you."

This confused Silasque and the Chooser must have noticed because he chuckled, "He wanted someone who questioned things, who wasn't satisfied with what they were told."

Silasque nodded, understanding what he meant. Something about the Chooser put her at ease, and Silasque allowed herself to ask a question, "Why didn't you choose Minski then? Why did you give her the job of Librarian instead of Guardian?"

The Chooser nodded, considering her question, "She lacks the ability to be open-minded. As my grandmother puts it, she's set on one thing, and if you take that one thing away from her, she can't get up again."

This took Silasque off guard. She had never viewed Minski even remotely close to the way the Chooser just did. However the more she thought about what the Chooser said, the more she could see Minski in the same light he did.

"I get what you're saying, but..." Silasque struggled to find the words for what she was trying to say.

"You want the real reason?" the Chooser smiled warmly at Silasque, "Because you're different, Silasque, you're different."

That afternoon, as she walked out of the Tower, Silasque felt a wave of purpose, of meaning, surge through her. She was different.