Lies

we’ve all been focused on getting by and focused onwhat we’ve lost. Now it’s time to start working on the future. Because we’re going to be here for a while. Maybe for the rest of our lives.”
    That drew some very harsh words, but Astrid kept going.
    “We need rules and laws and rights and all,” Astrid said. “Because we need to have some justice and some peace.”
    “I just want food,” a voice cried.
    Astrid plowed ahead. “So, you’ll all get to vote on this. But I’ve written down a list of laws. I kept it simple.”
    “Yeah, because we’re too stupid,” Howard said, suddenly just in front of her.
    “No, Howard. If anyone was stupid, I was. I kept looking for some perfect system, something that wouldn’t involve compromising anything.”
    That got the attention of a few more kids.
    “Well, there is no perfect system. So I wrote down an imperfect set of laws.”
    “Rule number one: Each of us has the right to be free and to do whatever we want as long as nothing we do hurts anyone else.”
    She waited. No heckling. Not even from Howard.
    “Two: No one can hurt another person except in self-defense.”
    Grudging attention was being paid. Not everyone. But some, and more as she continued.
    “Three. No one can take another person’s possessions.”
    “Not that we have anything much to take,” Howard said, but was shushed.
    “Four. We’re all equal and have exactly the same rights. Freak or normal.”
    Astrid saw the glint of anger on Zil’s face. He was looking around himself, seeming to take the temperature of the crowd. She wondered if he would make a move now or wait for another opportunity.
    “Five. Anyone who commits a crime—stealing or hurting someone—will be accused and then tried by a jury of six kids.”
    Some of the crowd were losing interest again and beginning to cast sidelong glances at the food. But others waited patiently. Even respectfully.
    “Six: lying to the jury is a crime. Seven: penalties can be anything from a fine to getting locked up in a jail for a period of a month or more, to permanent exile from Perdido Beach.”
    The crowd mostly liked this. There was some clowning around, kids pointing at each other, some shoving, mostly good-natured.
    “Eight. We’ll elect a new town council every six months. But the council cannot change these first nine rules.”
    “Are we done, yet?” Howard asked.
    “One more. The ninth rule,” Astrid said. “And this is the one I have the most doubt about. I kind of hate the idea of this rule. But I can’t see any way around it.” She glanced at Albert and then nodded at Quinn, who frowned and looked confused.
    This, finally, got everyone’s attention.
    Astrid folded the paper and stuffed it into her pocket. “Everyone has to live by these laws. Normal or freak. Regular citizen or member of the council. Except…”
    “Except Sammy?” Howard supplied.
    “No!” Astrid snapped. Then, more calmly, refusing to be provoked, “No, not except Sam. Except in the event of an emergency. The council will have the right to suspend all other rules for a period of twenty-four hours if there’s a major emergency. In that case the council can appoint a person, or several people, to act as Town Defenders.”
    “Sammy,” Howard said. He laughed cynically.
    Astrid ignored him and instead focused on Zil. “And if you think that’s directed at you, Zil, you’re welcome to think so.”
    In a louder voice Astrid cried, “You’ll all get a chance to vote, but for now, temporarily, these rules will be the law as soon as a majority on the council says so.”
    “I vote yes,” Albert said quickly.
    “Me, too,” Edilio called out from somewhere in the crowd.
    Howard rolled his eyes. He looked at Orc, who nodded his head yes. Howard sighed theatrically. “Yeah, whatever.”
    “Okay, then,” Astrid said. “With my vote that’s four out of seven. So. These are the laws of Perdido Beach. The laws of the FAYZ.”
    “Can we eat now?” Howard asked.
    “One last thing,” Astrid said. “I lied to people. And I got other people to lie. That’s not against any of these rules, butit’s still wrong. The result is that kids won’t really trust me in the future. So I’m quitting the town council. Effective right now.”
    Howard began an ironic slow clapping. Astrid laughed. It didn’t even bother her. In fact, she felt like joining in herself. Like she could finally stand outside herself, see herself as shrill and controlling