Marissa sighed. Another house must be painted blue, though she really liked the combination of green and brown that decorated its exterior. Now they also demanded the stone ornaments to be removed. Even worse, Mr. Longbeard who designed, built and lived in it never liked blue. They said he may keep the interior of his house as he pleased, but the exterior would reflect badly on the other houses which one by one turned to blue. “You do not have any privilege to get special treatment,” they explained to him when he tried to protest, “No one does. Everyone must paint their houses blue eventually. They are obliged to.”

“This is absurd!” Mr. Longbeard couldn’t hold his frustration to himself any longer. “This is absolute nonsense!” He went on rumbling and even tried to scatter the documents in the office. The guards were of course quick to act; they grabbed him on each side and dragged him back to the chair.

That was the last day anyone heard about Mr. Longbeard. Some say they finally managed to make him sign the agreement of painting the house blue, but the pressure devastated him so much that he decided to leave this place once and for all. Where and when he went, no one would tell Marissa. Maybe they didn’t know. They weren’t on good terms anyway with Mr. Longbeards, why should they know? They didn’t care, just like those blue-fanatic officers.

The Blue-Fans – as Uncle Enry would call them – were originally a harmless group of exchange students who wanted to study how each house in this place was uniquely designed to each family that lived in it but somehow still retained some kind of harmony between one and another. The houses were decorated with all kinds of color, except blue. So, the exchange students tried to convince some people to apply some blue on their houses. At first people just settled with blue flags, or blue toy figures. After some time they applied blue paint.

Which is not a problem, of course, but those who started applying blue ended up repainting their entire house in that color. This got ridiculed by the neighbors who never have had any interest in blue, but those who get ridiculed usually bite back even harder: People started making up stories to defend their love of blue. Some then got convinced, as is common in opinions; and to defend themselves against the common critique of using an unnatural color, they gang up.

Harmless opinions became harsh judgements against the opposition. Each household, one by one, got slowly pressured to use blue. Some only did it to shut up their neighbors, some repainted it only to return it back to its initial state after some time. It was now only some friends of Marissa’s parents and Uncle Enry left – Now that Mr. Longbeard also gave in.

What about the exchange students who started it all? They went, of course. They were satisfied in introducing blue to the inhabitants of this place and went back to their homeland, probably about to destroy the harmony of another place on the planet – so her uncle would sometimes say. Now the Blue-Fans were their own people, poisoned by some foreign idea. Maybe the students never meant anything bad, it was just their people who over-worship novelties. “We can never know”, her father said, “all we know is what we see right now. Which means that we have to prepare repainting our house in blue,” but that didn’t impress Marissa, “or move somewhere else, like Mr. Longbeard did,” he then quickly added.

“Moving somewhere else doesn’t guarantee us the freedom of decorating our houses as we want,” her mother added. “It’s a lose-lose situation now.” She sighed. “It’s sad, our place was really famous for the ‘harmony in chaos’ it had – before those Blue-Fans went crazy, of course. There is nothing to gain here anymore. I wonder how tourism will be in some years; an all-blue place is nothing special, so I’ve heard.” Mother always thought about business prospects and profit – although she rarely acted on it – and she claimed that tourism is where most of the income for this place came from. Without it, she would say, Marissa wouldn’t be able to go to school and read the so many different books in the library.

“I’d prefer an all-anything-but-blue place,” Father replied absent-mindedly to his wife. He seemed preoccupied by the newsletter. “Blue is simply an inefficient color. It is hard to acquire, and even if you manage to get it, you’re hurting some things. Or some people. Blue is not like yellow that you can simply get from squashing some curcumin and adding drops of harmless chemicals. Red is common in berries. Green is – “

“- common in leaves.”

“Exactly. I can’t fathom the thought of going through such a hassle only for aesthetics. I refuse blue, even if those Blue-Fans try to drown me in their color. We’re preparing to move out. Marissa, start packing the things you rarely use but would want to keep.”

“When are we going?” Marissa was surprised by her father’s decisiveness. He would usually hold a round-table to discuss things that would affect the whole household; like when he wanted to buy a new motorcycle, but they decided against it in the end, or when they didn’t know what to do with all of Grandma’s books and in the end decided to donate them to the library. But she knew this was an urgent matter. It seemed that Father read some news he didn’t like.

“Soon, but not too soon. Mother and I will take care of the arrangements, you and Leebelle start packing up the not-so-daily and not-so-urgent things; books, clothes, supplemental cooking wares… I’m sure you understand.” He folded the newsletter, stood up, and waited at the door for Mother.

But she only threw a quick glance at him. “’not too soon’, but you’re not even waiting for me to finish the dishes!”

Father only shrugged. “Let Marissa do it, she’s old and big enough for it. You’re overqualified as a dishwasher anyway. Come, hurry.”

Marissa didn’t protest though she hated doing the dishes. This was urgent, she understood. Her father wouldn’t be so commanding otherwise. She came close to her mother, who still tried to clean a big bowl they used for salad last time, and took it from her. “It’s alright, I can do it. Don’t worry.”

Her mother bit her lips. She seemed worried, but for another reason than her father. “Take care,” she whispered softly. “Is it really that urgent?” Mother then asked her husband. “Can’t we just go together? With the kids? What if -”

Marissa’s father didn’t reply, and she heard – or felt – how he gently pushed her mother outside. She could hear them talking in a low voice as they left to prepare for their move. They will come back, she tried to convince herself. We will move out. Together.

They did move out. But not with her parents. Marissa, Leebelle, Uncle Enry and his family managed to make their way out of the place. After some years the two sisters figured out that their parents made a distraction so that they could leave with Uncle Enry. What Father read in the news was a brutal warning to all families who refused to paint their houses blue. When they left Marissa to wash the dishes he decided, along with Mother, to at least open a way for the others – especially their children and Uncle Enry’s family – to escape. Mother’s calculations predicted that it would be too optimistic for them both to join their family one day. It was a calculation that Marissa wished to be wrong. But it wasn’t. And her worry that the place would collapse also didn’t miss: After the Blue-Fans managed to repaint all houses blue, the place collapsed due to the low tourism rate, which, as Mother calculated before, was its main source of income.