The Wounded

We talked about Apella and Orry. Alexei told us stories about Apella, about how gangly and awkward she was when he first met her.

“So she was like you?” I giggled. Everyone laughed. I couldn’t quite picture serene, porcelain Apella as awkward.

Careen chirped up how she’d always admired Apella’s hair. I reached out to smack her, and Pietre grabbed my hand with a fierce grip. His hands were heated, his eyes as intense as always. But then it broke into a sincere expression. “She was beautiful.”

I kicked his wooden leg. “Whoops! Wrong leg.” To which I received a scathing scowl from him and a wink from Careen.

It went on late into the night, an ebb and flow of happiness and sadness. A big, soggy dough of mixed emotions. I found myself looking for Apella, waiting to see one of those rare smiles or hear her bell-like voice.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes.

Pelo, who had been fairly quiet, stood and walked around to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders protectively. “I think my daughter needs some sleep.” I let the words sit atop my head like a crown. It was strange and didn’t quite fit, but I was definitely tired. Everyone stretched and made their exits, leaving Joseph, Matthew, Pelo, and me.

“Someone needs to stay with Orry,” I said. “I’ll…”

“I’ll stay with him,” Pelo shouted before I could finish.

“But…?” Somehow, Joseph’s arm was already around my shoulders, guiding me towards the door.

I took a few steps towards the exit, so tired I would have let a monkey lead me to my room. But then I stopped.

“No,” I said. Joseph sighed at me. “I can’t leave. I’m his mother; I should be the first face he sees when he wakes up.” Those words were like a hot coal in my hands. I’d never said them before, I’m his mother. But instead of juggling it and throwing it away before it burned me, I closed my fingers around it, let it warm me, and let it brand me with its meaning. I was his mother.

Pelo threw his hands up in the air. “So stubborn,” he said with pride and he stomped out of the room animatedly. It was so strange having him in my life, and I could only trust him moment by moment. But those moments were getting longer and more significant. What I needed to let go of was that he wasn’t the father I remembered and, more importantly, he wasn’t going to run out on me.

Matthew retired to his office, where he had set up a cot. Poor Matthew. I hoped he slept tonight.

I kicked my shoes off and crawled into the bed next to Orry’s. Joseph went to climb into one of the other beds.

“Come here,” I said, patting the very narrow patch of bed left. He shrugged and lay down, facing me.

“It’s a bit tight, don’t you think?” he asked in amusement.

I wrapped my leg around him, my arm under his neck, and pulled myself closer. “Yeah, I might fall out.”

“Nah, I’ve got ya,” he said, folding his big arm around my back and under my waist.

“I know,” I whispered.

It was quiet for a while, and I could feel him relaxing and his arm going slack. I pulled up the side guard with a jerk. “But, just to be safe.”

He chuckled, and the whole bed shook. It was so good to welcome that sound back into my life.

I turned my head to the ceiling, the bars of fluorescent lights crisscrossing the rock above. I imagined them parting, the roof ripping open like a broken spider’s web, a hole revealing the sky. It was dark and blue, stars shining like pinpricks of light. Clara was up there, and she held out a hand to Apella. Shyly, she took it.

Look after each other.

Don’t forget that because of you, the boy will live.

The next morning, I awoke to a sound that tore right through me. That charged my body and broke open a hundred walled-up, nailed-in parts of me.

Orry’s cry.

When Orry reached twelve months of age, he started eating many solid foods. I wasn’t sure how we managed to avoid the beans up until then. I think it was just dumb luck. It was a serious hereditary disorder. And what Matthew said was right, inside Orry’s body was a warzone, his blood cells exploding and coursing through his veins like shreds of a popped balloon. The transfusion replaced the damaged cells, but he would always have to be careful about what he ate. One mouthful would kill him if blood was not on hand.

Once we knew Orry was going to make a full recovery, the grief set in and all we wanted was some way to lay her to rest. Alexei didn’t want a funeral or a big gathering. He decided to bury her above ground in the center of an old, ruined cottage. It had no roof and a breezing peppercorn tree grew up past the walls, its pink, beaded branches hanging wistfully and covering the windows like a curtain. The sky was framed by crumbling stone walls, like an old photo turning in at the edges.

We left her there, a few words and a pile of stones to mark her end. But there was so much more. Looking at the boy on my hip, I knew she’d always be in him. She was the reason he even existed in the first place, and she saved him. She strived so hard to make up for what she had done and, in Orry and Hessa, she found her redemption. Bouquets of flowers were placed down and then we walked away.

There were others to save.

I grabbed a handful of peppercorns, popping them from the branches and squeezing them tight in my hand. I had to make this a small part of my life. Losing Apella, Orry getting sick, I had to condense it, feel it, but move on. I couldn’t let it drown out the reasons for still living. I couldn’t let the worry consume me. She gave her last moments for Orry, and we would turn those moments into a lifetime for her.

*****

You’re precious. But is your life worth more than the others? I’m trying really hard to forget, but they’re part of you. They are your brothers and sisters, and they’re suffering. Dying. If I don’t help, if I keep you safe and let everybody else crumble and fall around me, then I’m no mother. I’m selfish and undeserving.

“We need to have an adult discussion,” I said to Joseph as we walked back towards the train station.

“Mhm.” Joseph raised his eyebrows in amusement. He grabbed Orry and put him on his steady, broad shoulders.

“We need to convince Gus to send a team to Este. We can’t let this happen to anyone else. For all we know, it’s already happening.” I slapped out the words in a hurry.

The sun glowed behind the two-headed creature. Orry’s eyes were wide and slightly frightened every time Joseph jumped over a stone. I didn’t want to be the one to go back. I didn’t want to leave him. Not now, when the wounds were still so brittle and open.

“He won’t go for it,” Joseph muttered as Orry pulled his hair in his hands like two reins.

“Maybe this is the push they need. Maybe now we can get them to consider fighting.”

I ticked over the list in my head. The Superiors could easily find out we were here. If they returned for some reason, we’d be trapped. Their breeding program was failing. More children would get sick. Even if they didn’t have Orry’s condition, they could have several others that weren’t screened for. Lastly, I still believed if we showed those images to the Woodland citizens, we would have a good chance of causing the seeds of dissidence to take root. It was a risk, but how long could we go on living like this? Why did Gus get to decide?

“Rosa, what are you thinking about?” Joseph smiled and caught me with his eyes. I shook free of the trap of green and gold.

“This isn’t the Woodlands.”

“Uh… yeah, I know…”

“It’s time to vote.”

I’d convinced Gus to let me address the whole community. Nerves were rattling my fingers as I scribbled down my thoughts, crossed them out, and started again.