Joanne Miller is a 15-year. She's the only girl with an understanding that Society is as dead as Kidville itself.
Until very recently, her knowledge of Society was confined to the mythical, polytheist fables of the Greeks. "Outside this realm," her assigned mother, the beloved Mrs. Pratt, would say whenever she asked (her widowed, biological mother had died bringing Joanne into the world), "you can be whoever you'd like to be. Astronauts fly places, scientists develop potions and mysterious substances, and queens bring order to the chaos of the Universe!" Then she was picked up from the couch and bounced in the air by Mrs. Pratt until neither could contain their laughter no longer.
Showered in the love of her mother – or grandmother, she figured – Joanne became Goddess Miller, the pinnacle of all ladies – for, as Mrs. Pratt had said, she was the queen. Queens patronized movie nights, trips to the Mall, and Barbies.
***
Two years ago, Joanne's world crumbled like Rome after hearing some bad news.
Mrs. Pratt – only days after she'd turned 13 – suffered a stroke, her complications separating them. Unable to recognize these feelings, Joanne lashed out at the stony remains of her empire. She kicked Mrs. Miller, cursed Mrs. Alita, questioned Mrs. Chan, slapped two Mrs. Guineveres, and abused any other devils who ranged from months to just a week's stay.
After turning 14, Joanne's girlhood impertinence began to fade. Crying nearly every day across the whole last year, she was given the perspective to realize Mrs. Pratt would not be coming back.
So she bit her tongue for the time, graciously accepting criticism, obeying her caretakers, and taking on longer volunteer hours at the Kidville Nursery or PU.
By fifteen, these volunteer hours were tipped more towards the PU. Joanne was developing a fascination for one of her male colleagues, Ferris. The bronze-skinned 16-year reserved a specific hate for her and utilized her dead mother for his comedy.
Resist as she may, this humor wasn't enough to deter Joanne. Her desire to speak with Ferris had manifested until she could contain it no longer. One balmy, July evening, when the PU was nearing its close, Joanne approached Ferris who was joined by his friend, Thomas, one of the known 'conspiracists' against Icurisology and an odd 16-year. Joanne was set off by his regular lasciviousness, but today she would pursue.
What Ferris looked like to Joanne could best be described as a pre-hulk Lou Ferrigno; he was deliriously handsome.
Thomas had inferred from her playful face that he should move. After shaking hands with Ferris, he left them up to each other. Joanne greeted Ferris with a smile.
"You're pretty today," he returned. She thanked him, helping to sort through his remaining crops for the day. Kidville taught that farming "contributed to the good of the whole" but instead they were digging a hole for the good. High Council dared to cover up this year's August flop saying they were up more than last year.
"How's life?" she asked.
"Mom died yesterday, so I'm an orphan like you. Sadly, 16-years don't get moms."
Joanne searched his expression, finding nothing which signaled deceit. He wasn't lying; she looked away. "Sorry. That's sad, but I only looked 'cause, well—"
Ferris cursed under his breath, and when she looked up, his smile burst with affection. "I know; I'm a real bad guy. Can I make it up to you?"
They looked at each other for a while; evening time was beginning to set in. Joanne thought for a moment, then responded, "Take me to one of your weird friend's freak shows." She was referring to Thomas, whose next soiree would focus on the job of women in Society. She had girlfriends who'd attended these talks.
They held their breaths. Someone's shadowy form lingered for a minute then sauntered off.
Ferris breathed a sigh of relief, then followed, "You really wanna hear what Thomas's got to say? The guy is a freak."
"Duh... yes, I do," Joanne said. "My girlfriends buzz about suicides whenever learning of the gory details."
"Joanne. I'm sure you know it's not just girls, right?"
Ferris continued. "He was only five" – he emphasized this by putting up his hand – "before learning Canada – ach.. choked up there, sorry, Kidville.. what was I saying?.. – right. Kidville was not so wonderful a place Icurisology makes it out to be. Sure, yeah, it's not, but my family was never compensated for that; his anxiety, his depression, and constant hiding from us at just five."