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“You think that’s enough? Where do you get off having an opinion about anything I do?” I snapped, seeing red. I turned to Pietre and said more calmly, “So, what do you say?”
“Rosa, please,” Careen said softly, and that shut me up. She sat with her legs crossed, Pietre’s head in her lap. He looked at her like he hated her. He did nothing but curse us both, but she patiently stroked his hair and stared out the window when his tirades became too much.
“Whoa! It’s getting a bit tense in here,” Rash exclaimed with a flashy smile on his lips. I leaned into him, trying to let some of his personality rub off on me. We used to be so similar but now, even though the bond was as strong as ever, I knew I was changed in his eyes. He turned to me and ran his hand over the part in my hair. “How’s the head?”
I rubbed my temples, fending off the headache that seemed to hover in the background all the time. “Sore,” I said.
Rash rolled his eyes. “You’re such a winger,” he said dramatically, while really aiming his comment towards Pietre. Pietre registered the comment with a growl and stared at the smooth, blue ceiling.
*****
We were approaching our first pick-up point, and were all nervous about what we might find. I wish I could say I couldn’t imagine anyone else’s mission going as badly as ours did but, unfortunately, I could. I could imagine all ma
The Spi
Opening the door, I stepped onto the hard earth. I stomped purposefully towards the trees, kicking small rocks as my head snapped back and forth, looking for signs of life. Putting my hand to my necklace, I worried the charm. I marched through the woods, checking behind trees and under rocks, like a crazy person, like Gwen was suddenly five-inches tall and hiding under a rotted log of wood. Rash and Pelo searched too, while Careen stayed with the Spi
A foreign hand ran over my tangled hair, and I slowed my breathing. “We’ve still got half an hour. We’ll wait. They may turn up.” I sighed. Pelo’s smooth voice was like a rusty peg in my head. Rash grabbed me around the waist and shuffled me closer, an unfamiliar, protective move coming from him. But he knew, at least, he seemed to sense, how hard having my father here was for me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and tried not to count the seconds, like each one was a nail in a coffin.
Exactly twenty-eight minutes later, Pietre started yelling at us to come in.
My nails dug into the branch I sat on, soft, mushroomy bark getting stuck under my fingernails. Just a few more minutes, please. Rash stood and offered his hand. I shook my head. No. Somewhere, beyond the mist, I could feel boots sinking into dirt. I could hear quick breaths and sense muscles burning. They were coming. They had to be.
Hope disintegrated.
As the train pulled away from the meeting point, something inside me started to crumble, like my ribs were dissolving. Soon there would be nothing to hold me up. We lost Gwen. Gwen, who was so vivacious and sarcastic, whose insistence that music was the meaning of life, was just gone. I pressed my face to the glass, my mouth half open, breathing fog over the fog already outside, ready to yell ‘stop!’ when I saw her tearing towards the tracks with her Spider. My lips formed the ‘s,’ then the ‘st,’ but the word was never completed.
I shed silent tears as Careen held my hand. Pietre had the decency to look discomfited. But there was no time to grieve. The next stop was only an hour away.
*****
When I saw Matthew, I nearly screamed. He and three other men sat by the tracks, waiting for us, when the Spi
I slammed the open door button repeatedly, heard the whoosh, and sprinted towards him. He looked a little surprised, but mostly relieved, as I threw my arms around his neck. He lifted me off the ground. “You’re all right,” he said as a statement and a question.
I nodded weakly, still holding on, swinging from his strong neck like a pendulum.
I’d measured myself up a long time ago. I’d run the tape from my toes to the top of my head, and I thought I knew what I was. My size, my capacity, was defined. But that was when I lived in a small world, with smaller, easily summed up people. What I have learned is I am past capacity. Living in this world, with these people, forced me open. The Survivors argued hard, but they forgave quickly. Matthew’s strong embrace reassured me that I hadn’t stepped over the ledge. We were still friends. I twisted free from my anger, crushed it to dust, and blew it towards the Rings, where it belonged.
Pelo coughed unsubtly, and Matthew released me. Brushing off his hand, Matthew offered it to my father, who eyed him suspiciously. Matthew’s easy smile was such a contrast to Pelo’s sharply tuned gaze.
“Pelo, this is Matthew, my, um,” I avoided Pelo’s eyes and blushed, “my doctor?” What could I say? There was just too much, so I found myself hoarding stories and explanations, not saying anything at all.
Matthew took the inadequate description and wore it. I released the piece of information I knew I had to. As Matthew and my father started to walk away, talking mission specifics, I called out, “Gwen,” and held my charm to the sky. My hand shook.
Matthew turned his head, his eyes steely as he grabbed his charm, kissed it, and uttered, “Gwen.” The others followed his lead.
My body vibrated with grief, ready to chase after Matthew and rattle a bigger response out of him. I took one step forward, and a sweaty hand clamped around my arm. My head snapped around to a wobbly face, sweat sheened and slightly yellow looking. I pulled my hand back, and the intrusion started talking. Rapid bursts of nervous energy wafted off him, along with his unpleasant body odor. I pinched my nose and stared at my arm until the stranger let go.
“Name’s Olga,” a woman’s voice, soft as a pillow, uttered. I swallowed my surprise ineptly and turned my head away so I could hold down my smile. “I’m the Spider from Bagassa,” she said, looking down at her feet. I realized she was reporting to me. I blushed and beckoned to Careen, who was busy being smothered by Rash.
“I’m Rosa, but I’m not really in charge,” I said, “You need to speak to Pietre or Careen.” I gestured towards the group standing around the Spi
She shook her head, and her face jiggled at the movement. “No, it’s you I wanted to see. You’re Rosa, right? The escapee from the breeding facility?”
I nodded, confused and slightly mesmerized by her peculiar face. She was short, fat, and round as a ball, swaying like a weighted bath toy. She had tiny, bright eyes that sparkled when she spoke, and thin, blonde hair clamped messily at the nape of her neck. It looked like a pale rats’ tail snaking down her back.
“This is a lot, you know. It’s just good to see faces and er, markings from the inside,” she said as she let her eyes slide to my barcode tattoo. I pulled down my sleeve.
“Do I know you?” I asked, my eyes casting over all five feet of her distrustfully.