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It has been quite some time since I really enjoyed YA. And this one did it, somehow. Or maybe I'm such a sucker for wonderful grandparents story.Another thing going for it is the subtle antipropaganda indoctrination which one can see around the text. Q: No longer a child, I now knew why I’d been shown the images, and I also knew they weren’t all true. (c)
Warnings should go with this!
1. The political background here is abismal. America is a bodygard to some invented Olissa country. It's bodygarding its citizens quite a lot, in some cases supposedly straight to death. But in death they are allowed to keep their cultural diversity. Which is totally generous.
Q: They were just a bodyguard of sorts. It wasn’t the US government’s fault American companies were behaving badly. Companies behaved badly all the time, all over the world. (c) Yeah, right.
2. The US guards Olissa against Iraq and Russia. And I won't even go into the geography of this. Obviously it's difficult to invent a country and place it somewhere not laughable.
Q:
Albert grinned ear-to-ear. “I got a call today.”
“Yeah?”
“It was from my friend at Princeton. You got in! You’ll get the formal offer of admission in a week or two. Lex, I’m so proud of you,” said Albert, reaching across to pat my hand. “You’re going to make a wonderful addition to the school, and I know you’ll love it there as much as I did.”
I threw a hasty smile onto my face and somehow found some enthusiasm for a response. “That’s awesome, Grandpa. I can’t believe it.” My stomach was knotted. I should have started with Albert’s bad news. With only a few days left of being Alexandra, good news about the life I could have had felt like being kicked in the gut. I would never go to Princeton. I wasn’t even going to finish high school.
“Princeton’s playing football against Harvard in a couple weeks. The Ivy matchups are always fun, and I was thinking we might do a little road trip and catch the game? I know you probably don’t think it’s super cool to hang out with your grandpa, but I can treat you to some Princeton sweatshirts and show you the best place to grab pizza. What do you say?”
I could feel my face burn as I fought back tears. It hurt to see Albert so excited. He was going to be devastated when I simply vanished. “Of course I’ll go to the game with you. And Grandpa, you know I love hanging out with you. You don’t need to bribe me. I’m going to miss you so much when I’m gone. I lo—”
“Good, I was hoping you’d say that,” said Albert, reaching into the front pocket of his blazer. “Because that brings me to my second bit of good news.” Albert reached across the table and handed me an envelope. “I know you’ve wanted this for a long time, and I’ve been putting you off, but with the news about Princeton, I thought it was time you got your way.”
Without even opening the envelope, my heart caught. I knew what was inside. Since coming to live with Albert, we’d taken two trips a year, one over Christmas break and the other during summer. Although Albert was democratic about book club night, he hadn’t been regarding our trip destinations. He always asked for my opinion, but then chose to ignore it in favor of trips that were educational and thought provoking. For the last three years, I’d been begging for an adventure vacation in New Zealand, full of hiking, white water rafting, horse trekking, and bungee jumping. I’d campaigned hard, but Albert had always put me off. Given his age, I never really blamed him.
Despite my best efforts, a few stray tears escaped. “You didn’t,” I said, opening the envelope.
Albert laughed. “I most certainly did. We’re going this Christmas. Two weeks in Godzone. That’s what the Kiwi’s call New Zealand. It’ll be summer so the weather is going to be great, and we’ll do all those activities you’ve wanted to do, although I’m absolutely not bungee jumping. You can do it, but don’t try to pressure me into it with one of your bribes or bets.”
I laughed, wiping away a few more tears.
“I hope those are tears of joy and excitement,” said Albert.
I smiled and nodded. Although I had to leave him, I knew I’d made the right decision in choosing to save Albert. I was lucky to have as many years with him as I did. “You need to bring me down off the high I’m on. What was your bad news?” I asked, grabbing my can of ginger ale.
Having just deposited a forkful of food into his mouth, Albert held up a finger as he quickly chewed and then swallowed. He wiped a napkin across his mouth as he cleared his throat. Albert’s expression was pained. “I’m afraid I have to rescind my invitation to the gala. I know you were excited to go, but I learned today the threat level surrounding Kasarian’s visit was increased. There’s chatter a group called Perun will strike. All plus-ones for lower-tiered guests have been elim—”
I choked on my ginger ale at Albert’s mention of Perun and had to pound my chest to clear it. My mind immediately swam with questions. How did Albert know of Perun? Made up of sleeper agents, Perun’s public profile was almost non-existent. There shouldn’t have been any chatter unless… I stared at Albert dumbfounded, my thoughts spinning out of control. Was I wrong about Varos? Had he actually been caught? Had he caved under torture and given me up? Did the man sitting across from me know who I was? Was he testing me?
“Oh,” I said, not really knowing how to respond. Although I kept my face impassive, my muscles coiled, ready for flight. I had a “go” box buried near the dog park. If I ran at top speed, I could grab it and be gone in less than ten minutes.
Albert patted my hand again. “I’m sorry.”
I trembled at his touch and slid my hand away, hiding it in my lap. Needing to run from Perun, I’d been in an impossible situation, and Albert had just handed me an out. His news about the gala was good, if true. But that kind of luck didn’t just happen in the spy world.
“Per-en?” I asked, purposefully stumbling over the pronunciation. “Never heard of them.”
Albert nodded solemnly, “Pear-une. A group of radical Olissan rebels. They’ve been silent for years, but with Aroyan narrowly losing the election… Well, I guess they see an opening.”
“Hmmm,” I said, shaking my head in understanding. Albert looked calm and collected and not at all like someone who was about to jump across the table and slap on some handcuffs. “Well, that’s disappointing about the gala, but I understand.”
I smiled at Albert hesitantly. Had I really just won the spy world’s version of the lotto? Was I really that lucky? Could I allow myself to get excited about Princeton? About New Zealand? My heart quickened at the thought of keeping my life as Alexandra. And what if Grant got into Penn? He’d only be an hour away.
I picked up the tickets to New Zealand and tapped them on the table. Surely, Albert wouldn’t have shown them to me if he knew. Or told me about Princeton. I knew Albert. He wouldn’t bait me—he wasn’t that cruel.
I smiled again, this time with measured excitement. “You know how you could make the gala up to me,” I said, grabbing my fork, a sense of relieved giddiness taking hold.
Albert eyed me. “And how would that be?”
I held my fork high in the air and then swooped it down to my plate. “You could go skydiving with me in New Zealand,” I said with a laugh.
Albert rolled his eyes. “I love you, but I’m not doing that either. Not in a million years.”
I studied Albert for a moment; studied his look of loving yet annoyed affection. My giddiness dissipated, replaced by feelings of warmth and peace. I reached across and put a hand on Albert’s arm, “I love you, too, Grandpa.”
(c)
Q:
“Your grandpa is awesome. He told everyone it was not the time or place for an argument. An eighteenth birthday only rolls around once, so we needed to spank our inner moppets.” Martine paused. She looked like she wanted to ask something, but wasn’t sure if she should. Finally she spoke. “What the hell is an inner moppet? I mean I get the gist, but still…”
(c)
Q:
...I like my job. It has its perks.”
“What are those? Distrust, fear, isolation, an early death?
(c)
