Free The Line by Teri Hall Page A

celebration of your vacation,” said Vivian. Her mother’s mood turned serious for a moment. “You should enjoy this time, Rachel. You’re smart and safe and free and . . .” Then she giggled and spoke in a high, eighty-year-old-lady-imparting-words-of-wisdom voice. “You’re only young once, as they say, my dear. Live life to the fullest and thank the stars you have your health. Now, let’s get shopping!”
    Rachel rolled her eyes, but she laughed.
    Bensen’s shopping district was always busy, at least whenever Rachel saw it, with lots of different vendors. According to Vivian, it was possible to find almost everything you could find in larger cities like Ganivar if you knew where to look. Rachel didn’t remember Ganivar at all; she couldn’t imagine living in a town even as big as Bensen. It was a little overwhelming. She did like to visit though, to watch how the people behaved.
    There were so many people, some rushing, looking like they were late for appointments, some strolling along as though they had all the time in the world. Two men standing outside a cred center were disagreeing about something in low, heated voices. A Labor Pool crew was repairing the water pipes in the street. They all wore gray jumpsuits with LP emblazoned on them in big black letters. Two of the men from the crew were down in a hole, handing tools up to a boy who looked younger than Rachel. On the corner in front of the fish vendor’s, a woman in a red coat leaned down to wipe the strawberry ice cream off her child’s face and laughed when the little girl promptly smeared more on.
    It didn’t take long for Vivian and Rachel to collect the items they needed. Their last stop was the fish store. Inside, a man argued with the vendor about the price of a salmon. The vendor argued back for a while about the rate of his taxes. Finally, he just folded his arms and waited to see if the man wanted the fish or not.
    Rachel and her mother were next in line.
    “Well, Rachel, what do you feel like having?”
    Rachel surveyed the selection. “The trout looks good,” she said finally, “if that’s okay with you too?”
    “Trout it is, then.” Vivian smiled at the vendor and pointed to one of the fish in the display. “That one looks nice,” she said, handing over her cred card.
    “That is a fine choice, ma’am.” The vendor weighed the fish and wrapped it. After swiping her card, he handed it back to Vivian along with the fish.
    “Thanks,” Vivian said, and she followed Rachel toward the exit.
    “That trout is going to be delicious, Mom.” Rachel grinned at Vivian over her shoulder, then turned to open the door. “Can we fix it with that salad, like we did last time?” She stopped suddenly, halfway through the door. Vivian, unaware that Rachel had stopped moving, ran right into her, and they both stumbled out onto the sidewalk.
    “Rachel, you almost made me drop the . . .” Vivian stopped.
    Rachel stared across the street, where a small crowd had gathered. The woman Rachel had seen earlier, the one in the red coat, was in the center of the crowd. Her arms were outstretched to her child, but she was roughly restrained by an Enforcement Officer. Two feet away from her, her little girl was screaming, her livid face slick with tears. She was struggling to reach her mother, but another EO had hooked his baton into the collar of her jacket. He was laughing because the little girl didn’t understand why she couldn’t make any forward progress. The woman jerked her arm, trying to shake the EO’s hold on her and get to her daughter. The EO slapped her hard across the face. The little girl’s screams grew louder.
    “Mom!” Rachel started toward the scene, alarmed at how rough the officers were being.
    “No, Rachel.” Vivian’s voice was low, but as hard as the grip she had on her daughter’s wrist. Rachel looked back, surprised, and the expression on her mother’s face frightened her. Vivian pulled Rachel back into the shop and