Disagreeable

Today, I would agree, or silence myself at all costs; it was the only way I could guarantee my safety. My hand clenched around my rusted locket as I took another deep breath. I rubbed my thumb across the heart-shaped surface and thought of how the last time I went outside, I almost disagreed openly with someone. My tongue was hardly contained, and it would have been catastrophic if I hadn’t caught myself. I tucked the locket in my shirt so it couldn’t be seen and plastered a smile on my face and pushed the door open.

“Hello Oakley!” I waved to my neighbor. I received a wave back, “Your roses look lovely today, did you use a new polish?”

Oakley smiles, “Why yes, Winn. That new shining spray works wonders for my garden!” Oakley says while bending the plastic petals of a certain rose. The flowers aren’t really beautiful, we both know that. I had said they were because my neighbor on the opposite side of the street once remarked at their beauty. And it is disagreeable to disagree, even with the likes of my neighbor.

I hate the phrase: disagreeable to disagree. But we all must live by it, for if we disagree, a simple spat could be blown to large proportions. There was once a debate -I hate that word as well- on the subject of how our world would be led. It lasted five days and three hours, and four people were killed. The conclusion was drawn that all leaders were disagreeable and that as long as we agreed, no consequences would arise from not being led. Many people were opposed to that idea, but no one could do anything about it. It is simply disagreeable to disagree, so we don’t.

I don’t mind it so much, there are no arguments, no need to compete, no drive to insult or discriminate. Forty years ago, it was decided that everyone was exactly equal, but then it escalated. Some were taking it too far, claiming that everyone was the same, no gender, no color, no religion, only complete agreement. This idea only took days to settle and be accepted. I was one of the last children born with a name specific to their gender. Winnifred. It disgusts people, especially the younger generations.

I’ve been asked why I don’t change my name like most people my age. But no one said I had to, it was up to me, so I am not judged or criticized verbally, that would be disagreeable. I do like to be called Winn, though. It seems neutral enough, and I get to keep my special name. My… my… female name. It’s what I kept in my locket, my real name. Winnifred, framed in a heart. It was given to me by my parent… my mother. I was her little girl, and sometimes I feel like I still am.

No. I shouldn’t think of myself that way. Or anyone, but I find myself wondering, occasionally, if Oakley is a man or woman, same with my neighbor Brooklyn, and my work friend Lake.

No, everyone is simply human, simply equal and simply the same. It is wonderful, it would be disagreeable any other way. I checked my watch, I only had five minutes to arrive or I would be late to my meeting, so I picked up the pace.

Several neighbors tried to spark conversation as I went, but I told them if I were to stop and chat, I would be late. They all understood and let me on my way, however unpleasantly. It is not disagreeable to rush, but it certainly is not looked upon happily.

With thirty seconds left, I arrived at the school, where the teachers’ meeting would be held. I burst through the door at the last moment, when everyone took their seats. I rushed to sit, attracting foul looks, especially from Professor Sage.

We all watched as Professor Aspen stood, directing the meeting as planned. “We have hardly any time to lose, it is disagreeable to run meetings longer than half an hour.” With a glance at some notes and the lot of us, Professor Aspen began. “First, a list of newly disagreeables; there will be no more cutting flowers, their lives are far too precious, animals will be given a protection plan from human beings, it is decided that it is not wrong to eat a fruit or vegetable before its natural falling, and nicknames must not be longer than one syllable.”

Professor Deodar, who we call Deo… or, now, Dee, gasped and said something in a breathy whisper. Professor Sage spoke clearly and obnoxiously, “It is also disagreeable to murmur, Professor Deodar, do you have something to say?” We all froze and looked to Professor Dee, who’s rapidly shaking head made me dizzy.

After a pause and clearing of the throat, Professor Aspen continued, “History professors, I received word that a student reported the teaching of the benefits of a car.” A collective gasp rang around the room, I sank in my seat. “Apparently, the student had been taught that the car was not an evil, cursed object, and expressed it openly. They are now under serious degrees of disagreeable consequences, all deserving. Whichever professor taught this in their classroom will be dealt with.”

My lips were pressed tight against each other, I hadn’t meant any harm, I should have kept my mouth shut, poor Coleus. Now they were dealing with immense punishment. Coleus had come to me with a question, and I answered, forgetting to warn them of the dangers of disagreement. Now they were hated, and I would be too if Coleus dropped my name.

The rest of the meeting was a blur, classes would resume as normal, taking care to not utter words of disagreement. We did not salute the flag as we went out, that was disagreeable to show respect to an object that represents a people who could possibly be evil. We remember and begrudge the actions of the past and they will never be forgiven. It is disagreeable to forgive and forget, it is also disagreeable to express holding a grudge. So the hate is always there, just beyond lips, just beyond words.

Coleus was not in my class today, I imagine they are at home, hiding from agreeable protesters gathered outside their door. When being agreeable, it is no longer disagreeable to be violent. The agreeable protesters are probably throwing bricks and shouting, one might even have a gun. Who knows? Those protesters are agreeable until decided otherwise.

I had to pick up the new version of the history books from the library since last week’s version featured behavior now thought of as disagreeable. Instead of teaching the importance of treaties in primitive societies, my lesson plan is now centered around how treaties are unnecessary as long as everyone agrees in the first place. We hold the decisions of the past to today’s standards and history always disappoints those expectations.

I used to love my job as a professor; I was able to teach young people about the past and how to learn from it. But now, history isn’t used as a tool for improvement, it is looked at scornfully and with discontent. I had found myself teaching over and over again that if everyone simply agreed, most of history would have never happened.

Once all the books were in my classroom, I took out my device. I might as well check on how Coleus was doing. It only took a few taps to reach a recording of the outside of Coleus’ home. “Look at this coward!” A voice shouted from my device. “Look at how they sit in their house like that. Come out and face us! Come out!”

I caught a glimpse of Coleus’ face in a window before a barrage of rocks shattered the glass. A war cry rang out: “Disagreeable!” And the crowd rushed in. I put my device in my shirt pocket, feeling sick to my stomach. That was all my fault. I had ruined Coleus’ life and quite possibly put mine in danger.

“Professor Winn?” A sharp voice chimed from my doorway. I looked up. Professor Sage glared at me.

“Yes?” I straightened up, trying to brush off the empty feeling in my chest.

“You are Coleus’ teacher, are you not?”

My fingers suddenly got very cold. “Yes, it’s very unfortunate what happened.” I immediately knew I had said something wrong. Professor Sage’s lips tightened and formed a ghost of a smile.

“Not unfortunate… not even disagreeable. Coleus’ punishment is deserved, wouldn’t you agree?” The scowl deepened. I didn’t agree, I truly didn’t. But what choice did I have? I had to prove that I wasn’t disagreeable to save myself from the same fate as Coleus.

“Yes, I agree fully.” I said, touching the place where my locket rested.

“What is that?” Professor Sage pointed at my neck. My hand snapped up to feel what could be wrong. The thin chain of my necklace was all. “Let me see.” They held out a hand.

It was disagreeable to refuse to show a trinket, so I reached up to unclip the necklace. I pulled it from under my shirt, my heart pounded as I handed it over. Professor Sage held it an arm’s length away, then studied it closely.

“Professor Winn,” Sage began, “I believe you told Coleus those disagreeable things.” My blood stopped moving through my veins.

“That… That is quite the accusation, Professor Sage.” I said, reaching for my locket. Professor Sage pulled it away from me.

“And I believe you have a lot of disagreeable thoughts.” They continued. I could tell Professor Sage was trying to pry open the rusted locket. “I keep thinking that if I could only prove it.”

“But why? What would you gain?” I asked. Again, another disagreeable thing to say. Reporting a disagreement is praised and seen as an act of nobleness.

“I’ve never liked you.” Professor Sage said, still struggling to try and open my locket. I was beginning to be relieved that it was refusing to open when there was a gut-wrenching pop and a gentle clink of metal. My locket was opened, and Professor Sage was staring at my name in disgust. “You carry this around in a heart? You’re more disagreeable than I thought!” They took my locket and ran from the room.

The icy dread in my limbs multiplied. “No! Professor Sage, wait!” I rushed out after them.

“Disagreeable! Disagreeable!” Sage was screaming as we ran down the halls. Professors were coming out of their classrooms to look at the commotion. I could see their scowls deepen. Even Professor Dee looked at me with sudden hate. I turned around quickly, I had to get home before the teachers descended on me. I could still hear Professor Sage shouting and alerting everyone that I was now a disagreeable, there were likely a few teachers who got right to work alerting everyone of my sins.

Thankfully, on the path back to my house, only Oakley was still outside. “Well, hello again Winn!” They chimed. I waved and managed a smile as I jogged into my house. I silently thanked Oakley for not starting any small talk as I sped around my house to lock each window and door.

The agreeable protesters would be here any moment, I doubted that most regular protesters had jobs, they probably lived off of the money they say they are obligated to have. No one is allowed to question anyone’s needs or withhold resources from someone just because of how much they work.

I took my device from my pocket and searched wildly for a sign that the protesters would be here soon. There was a picture of Coleus’ house, half of it was burnt or broken. If anyone survived that, it would be a miracle. I kept scrolling. After just thirty seconds, I found what I was looking for: A video of a group of people marching along what looked like my street. “We must agree!” A few of them chanted, including Professor Sage, who still held my locket.

I powered down my device and tucked it back in my pocket. After a minute, I heard the chanting faintly. The crowds were getting close. My fingers were stiff as twigs, my heartbeat was so fast it sounded more like a growl and my head was being crushed by the realization of what I had to face and that I might not come out alive.

What if I were to apologize? Or to renounce what I said and vow to be a good, agreeable citizen of society again? Would that work and did I have it in me to string out those lies convincingly enough to stop a rioting crowd?

“Hurrah! Hurrah! We must agree!” The chants grew louder until they were just outside my house. I whipped my head around to make sure I was in a spot where I could not be seen, these protesters were fresh from eliminating Coleus. “We must agree!”

Any strength I had in thinking I could address the crowd was foolish. The sound of the chanting was deafening, I didn’t want to incite any violence from a group that large. Suddenly, there was a shattering noise to my left; I nearly jumped out of my skin. Someone had thrown a rock through my window! I closed my eyes and clenched my fists as I waited for the destruction to start when all I heard was a soft thud.

I opened my eyes to see my rusty little locket lying on the floor just a few feet away, and mysteriously, the chanting was beginning to die down. I unclenched my hands slowly and migrated carefully to the locket.

I sat and stared at my name. Winnifred. My real name, a name that told me who I was and what I was. I was… I am a woman named Winnifred, and how dare anyone take that away from me? How could I have let myself be trapped in agreement all the time?

It wasn’t disagreeable to disagree. In fact, it may be possible to agree to disagree on some things.

“We know you’re in there!” Professor Sage’s voice screeched. I closed my locket and hung the string around my neck, letting the heart show. “Come on out, Winn!”

Angry heat burned around my neck and in my cheeks. It woke up all my limbs and filled me with power. I stood up in front of my window, facing the crowd. “My name is Winnifred!” I yelled at the crowd. “You can’t change that! I am a woman and you can’t change that! And I disagree and you can’t change that!”

“But we must all agree!” Sage countered.

“You all are here because you disagree with me!” I shouted. Some protesters gasped, others scowled at me, most of them looked confused. I continued, “Can’t we just agree to disagree?”

It was an open-ended question, one I didn’t expect an answer to. But Sage drew in a deep breath and shouted in the tone of a war cry: “Never! We must agree!”

That is what finally set off the spark. The crowd roared and charged at my house, bearing rocks and guns and bare fists. My window was destroyed and I was knocked to the ground. My thoughts were running wild, all the wisdom I had ever acquired was rushing through my mind. Suddenly everything became so clear: why the world was like this and how we could have stopped this from the start.

But I can’t share what I was thinking, that would be disagreeable.