Seed Savers-Treasure: Seed Savers, #1

Part One

THE LEARNING

1

ESCAPE DOWN AN ALLEY

CLARE walked faster, clutching the tiny packet to her chest. The sound of the footsteps behind kept pace. She darted down an alley she knew well—turning right, then left, then right again. Standing still, her back against the wall, she listened. The footsteps had not followed her; she had lost them.

Twenty minutes later and safe in the apartment, she met with her co-conspirators: Dante, her seven-year-old brother, and Lily, her best friend.

I have something to show you, but you have to promise not to tell.

We promise.

Holding out her closed fist, she whispered, What I have here will change the world.

Dante’s eyes widened. It’s so small.

It may be small now, she told him, but what I have in my hand will get bigger. It will grow and make more.

What is it? Lily asked.

Is it magic? asked Dante.

She opened her hand. In it was a little brown envelope.

Clare tapped the packet lightly, the open end down. Two tiny specks, flat, and tear-shaped, fell into her other hand. They were not much bigger than the head of a pin.

What is it? Dante asked.

Seeds.

What’s ‘seeds’?   

Seeds make food.

Dante’s eyes grew round and wide, as did Lily’s.

Get out of here! Lily cried. "You can’t make food. Everyone knows that food comes from Stores and from Delivery Trucks if you have government ration tickets—but people can’t make food."

Dante laughed. But wouldn’t it be great if people could make food? he said, grinning widely. Hey, Lily, it would be like making money. What if we could make as much money as we wanted?

Lily started to laugh. Yeah, I could make a million bucks and buy a truckload of Sweeties.

"We wouldn’t even need money if we could make food," Dante pointed out, doubling over with laughter.

BAM! Clare slammed her fist down on the table, leaving her thumb sticking up. The laughter stopped instantly. Lily and Dante immediately stacked their fists on top of Clare’s. The meeting had come back to order.

"People can make their own food, Clare said. She picked up the white specks. These are seeds, she repeated. They turn into food. These two seeds can make more food than you could eat in a whole day."

Her brother and her friend stared disbelievingly at the specks—the seeds.

How? they asked.

I’m not sure, Clare admitted. I don’t know yet. But I’ll learn; I’ll learn soon. In the meantime, we need to keep the seeds safe.

Dante nodded his head slowly up and down.

What do you mean? Lily asked.

Well, Clare began, her voice lowering, I don’t think regular people are supposed to have seeds. It might not even be legal.

Dante and Lily gasped.

Clare held up her hands. But even if it is illegal, she said, talking faster now, it’s a dumb law. It’s wrong! Everyone should have the right to produce their own food if it’s possible. Don’t you think so? I mean, why shouldn’t we?

Lily started to say something, but stopped.

What? pressed Clare. Don’t you think so?

I don’t know. I guess I don’t get it. If Stores have all the food we need, and if poor people get ration cards for Delivery Trucks, why would anyone need or want to make their own food?

Clare let out an exasperated sigh. Lily, I’m still learning. But here’s what I know so far. Have you noticed how the people who live mostly on food from ration tickets are more unhealthy than other people?

Yeah, sort of. But they’re not starving like the ones on the Monitor. In fact, they’re kind of fat.

Exactly. And they often die younger than the people in the big houses and mansions.

Yeah. But that’s the way things are.

It’s the way things are because of food. The food from the Trucks is not the same as the food in Stores. And, Lily, the food from seeds is even better.

2

A VISIT FROM GRIM

When Clare arrived home from school the next day, her mother was waiting for her at the door.

Clare, you wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?

Clare thought of the seeds safely hidden in her left shoe; she thought about the man who had followed her.

What, Mama?

Some men from GRIM were here to see me today.

GRIM?

The Green Resource Investigation Machine, she said, tossing a business card onto the kitchen table. They asked if I had a twelve-year-old daughter. I told them I only had a seven-year-old son. Then they showed me a family photo of us together. Right away I looked like a liar. What’s going on, Clare?

What did you tell them, Mama?

What could I tell them? I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout no GRIM. But I didn’t like their looks or their attitude. That’s why I wasn’t cooperative. When they said I had a daughter named Clare who attended St. Vincent Private, and played volleyball for fun, and had a best friend named Lily, I said, ‘Why you guys askin’ me questions you already know the answers to?’

Clare flinched.

Don’t you worry, they didn’t hurt your mama. They just smiled real insincere like and said that I’d better pay closer attention to where my children are after school. I thanked them for their advice and showed them the door.

Clare sat, silent.

Well? her mother asked.

You really want to know?

Her mom sighed deeply, that tired-out sigh Clare knew too well. The sigh of a woman who worked two jobs so her children didn’t have to eat the food from Trucks and to send them to private parochial school. She turned toward the window, her eyes focused far away.

No, she answered, almost imperceptibly.

CLARE TYPED GRIM INTO the search engine.

The Green Resource Investigation Machine was formed thirty-five years ago in an effort to codify and streamline food production in the United States. At the time, most people bought food from larger and larger grocery stores, or super-markets as they were often called.

Originally, food had been grown by individuals and eaten according to the season in which it ripened.

She was having a hard time understanding what she read. How did seasons relate to food? What did ripen mean? What did it mean to grow food? She continued to read.

Some people grew extra produce to sell and brought their excess to market. Hence, the later term, supermarket. The supermarkets gave way to what are currently called Stores.

The old way of growing, selling, and preserving food was inefficient and cumbersome. It required people to own land and learn all aspects of food production. It wasn’t economical, practical, or safe. With the scientific breakthroughs of the late twentieth century, researchers were able to genetically modify seeds, enabling plants to resist disease, insects, and weeds. Techniques were introduced making it possible to grow more food on less land, with less labor, for less cost. Large companies eventually won the right to patent seeds, which had previously been a part of the public domain. The owners of the seeds eventually became a part of government policy making.

One of GRIM’s main tasks today is to keep track of subversive elements who work against the government’s official food policy: anarchists, environmentalists, and seed savers.

Clare gasped. Seed savers. Is that what she was now? A seed saver? She had been warned. The old woman who entrusted her with the seeds told her she had to be brave.

She hadn’t really believed her. How could she? Who would believe something as tiny as those two seeds could be dangerous?

3

ANA

Clare told Lily and Dante about the men from GRIM who had visited their apartment and about being followed in the alley. She shared what she had learned from her limited Monitor search. She said she thought she was being followed whenever she went out.

Aren’t you afraid, Clare? Lily asked.

Sort of. But I don’t think they’ll hurt me. My biggest worry is if they put Mama in jail.

Dante’s eyes opened wide.

I don’t see how they can, she added hurriedly. Mama doesn’t know anything. And the seeds are never in the apartment. They couldn’t arrest her.

So, Lily prodded, still curious, how do the seeds make food? And what kind of food is it?

Yeah, Dante asked, licking his lips, is it Sweeties?

I’m not sure, Clare said, furrowing her brow. I’m pretty sure it’s not Protein. It could be Sweeties. But it sounded more like Vitees. My friend said food is different now than before. She said food used to have a lot of names.

Like how? asked Lily.

Yeah, like how? repeated Dante.

Well, like now we have Protein, Sweeties, Vitees, Carbos, and Snacks. They had things called fruit and veg, vegTABLES, and meat, and—oh, I don’t remember. It’s hard to remember all of the new words. She promised to teach me more and let me write it down. It sounded really interesting. The food in those groups all had individual names, too, and came in different sizes and colors and shapes—

—Shapes? What other shapes for food could there be besides square and round?

I don’t know—I don’t really get it. I tried to find out more about it on the Monitor, but that information is blocked.

A secretive look spread across Lily’s face. When will you see her again? She whispered.

Soon, Clare whispered back. I’ve been dying to, but what with GRIM on my tail, I’ve been waiting.

Lily and Dante nodded. Dante placed his fist with the thumb up on the table in front of them. The two girls latched on.

ON SUNDAY, CLARE AND Dante walked seven blocks to St. Vincent Catholic Church. They hurried down a side aisle, stopping four rows from the front. Clare prodded Dante toward the center of the long bench. Several minutes later, an elderly woman made her way into the pew, sliding in next to Clare.

As the congregation sang, the song flowing up around Clare seemed to her a beautiful painting and the individual voices were strokes of color making up the whole. She felt safe and at ease in church.

Dante squirmed through the long service.

Why do you like church? he asked as they walked home afterward.

I like feeling close with God.

"I don’t feel close