George awoke that day without a thought. Without thoughts to confuse him, he did what people of great purpose do — he left home.
As George closed the door to his bedroom, a singing voice refrained, “Tell us what you see — Far away forgotten Lands where empires have turned back to sand.”
Wincing at the picture of his Induction hung to the left of his bedroom door, George’s feelings of pride and embarrassment wrapped together and muted the singing. Unbalanced, he turned around and walked down the steps, trying to remember the singing voice, and second-guessing his mother’s love of the Induction picture. Thoughtlessly, he opened the door to exit his family quarters. George, wearing his favorite black jersey, ventured out, closing the door as he stepped off into the common area for everyone in his circle.
He felt nothing of leaving his home, his family, his friends. The moment he closed the door to the family quarters did not ring-out momentously. Without emotion or remorse, George stepped outside with a confident, but thoughtless purpose. No one noticed.
As the door clicked shut, George pauses, scans the white halls, the glossy yellow light from above, the pink flowers, the soft green avenues of grass, and gentle people strolling. No Guardians. Looking down at his feet, he smiles and straightens his jersey. Printed on the jersey, in crisp white letters was the phrase: “Se Puede!” George quietly speaks “Se Puede,” and George knew he could pass to the other side of the family circles.
The recitation of the phrase also unearthed the awkwardness of the Induction ceremony. The jersey, given to him at his Induction ceremony, was made in the Time Before. They all said it, “It’s from the time before, never wear it.” “Keep it safe and give it to your first grandson.” Everyone marveled at the family relic, while George felt pressure to find a partner. His grandfather passed along the inherited treasure and died the next day.