Read Defective Page 18

moment considered that he was her father.

  Years before, on one of his trips to Andrastyne he’d stopped for a few days and had, as always, taken in the pleasantries at the local brothel. He hadn’t been to town in several months and was disappointed when Mrs. Nibbs told him why his favourite whore was no longer in service.

  "Pity," he said. "Oh well, a whore getting pregnant, not exactly a surprise."

  "Damn right, honey. I tell my girls to be careful, but there’re always one or two sluts who don’t listen."

  Marvellous’ first step in her plan had been to return to Andrastyne, the closest port to Battery. Travelling by ship was faster but more expensive and she used up most of her savings jumping from ship to ship, travelling north up the coast.

  She got stuck in Murray’s Arm just outside Andrastyne. She sewed the last of her money inside her jacket along with the paper she’d been given when she left the camp that proved her age, and some of her rarer spices.

  In a shrimp shack uphill from the dock, Marvellous had watched the storm clouds roll in. The rain fell in huge drops and the waves crashed against the shore and against the boats moored at the dock. Many would be left badly damaged and unseaworthy for weeks.

  The door to the café banged open and a man with a ragged beard came in, dragging five men in irons behind him. He ordered them to sit down then banged on the counter for service. The old man who ran the restaurant stepped out from the kitchen.

  "Six coffees," the man said. "And what kind of sandwiches do you have?"

  "Only chicory coffee, I’m afraid," said the old man. "I have shrimp rolls or fish sandwiches."

  "Gimme six of the sandwiches."

  "Mr. Gaines. I — "

  "Make it five," he said, spinning around to face the man on the bench who’d spoken. "Didn’t I tell you to shut up?"

  "No actually, you didn’t."

  "Well I’m telling you now. Fuckin’ picker. More trouble than you’re worth. Be happy once I get to Andrastyne and you stop stinking up my ship."

  The man called Gaines lit a cigarette. The old man was setting up the coffee mugs on the counter and wrinkled his nose but didn’t say anything.

  "You’re going to Andrastyne?" Marvellous asked.

  "What’s it to you, girlie?" Gaines said, finally noticing her sitting at a table in the corner.

  "I’m looking for work. Heard there may be something in Andrastyne. I’m heading there."

  "Good for you."

  "Is there room on your ship?"

  Gaines blew smoke at her.

  "For you, girlie," he said, looking her up and down, "I’ll make room."

  The weather cleared by the next morning and they sailed for Andrastyne. Marvellous bartered cooking and cleaning skills to pay for her outgoing passage. Leering, Gaines said he would collect the rest of his payment later. The crew complained about the spices that Marvellous used in their food but always cleaned their plates. Once they’d eaten, she served the shackled men the leftovers and ate with them.

  They were, one of them told her, free labourers but Gaines had stolen all their money and possessions and was going to sell them in Andrastyne. They had no documents, no papers, no way of proving that they were free men.

  "Those labour auctions can be rough," said one of the men one night. "I used to work in Curiz. You get sold to the wrong landlord and your life turns to hell. I've seen it."

  "Shouldn’t be too bad in Andrastyne," said another. "It’s all fruit trees and little farms around there."

  "Doesn’t matter what the work is," said the first man. "Landlords can be nasty wherever they’re from."

  "Who’s the landlord in Andrastyne?" asked the third.

  "No landlord there. It’s a city. They have a council," said the fourth. "Nearest landlord to it is from Deloran County, just west of there. I grew up in Port Abram and I used to pick pearl apples in the fall as a teenager. In my day the landlord was a man called Baker but I heard he died a long time ago. No idea who it is now."

  Deloran County. Battery was in Deloran County, Marvellous thought. This could be easier than I thought. A local man with orchard experience, however, was competition. All the other men being put up for sale were general labourers with no experience with fruit trees.

  She took a small envelope from her jacket and slipped its contents into the man’s stew the next night. An hour later he began to complain of stomach cramps. In the morning they found him dead in his bunk. The crew threw him overboard.

  The crew began to complain to Gaines about Marvellous. She made them feel strange but they couldn’t explain why. Gaines called them a bunch of sissies but to shut them up he shackled Marvellous with the remaining four labourers.

  "I went through your stuff," said Gaines as he pocketed the key. "You ain’t got no money. Just a bunch of bags filled with spices and who knows what else? I threw it overboard. You’re trouble. I’ll sell you with this lot."

  ___

  Eventually, Hap ran out of stories to tell and he got up and left the kitchen for a while. Marvellous heard him sniffling and sobbing quietly just outside the door. The rain had stopped and the night sky was clear and star filled and fresh cool air poured into the kitchen. Marvellous closed her eyes and turned her face toward the breeze.

  When she opened them again Hap was coming in and closing the door behind him.

  "Leave it open," she said.

  He propped it open with an empty cider jug and sat in front of the door with his back against a support post and his legs stretched out.

  "Hap, I’ve been thinking. The kids are probably in a camp. It’d be a place to start. You must know some of the camps around here."

  He nodded. He remembered. Sad places, filled with children with adult postures. He didn’t want to think about Jelly or Forest or Narrow or any of them in a place like that.

  "But that would mean something’s happened to Mary, my wife."

  "Hap you may have to face the fact that something has happened or she’d be here. How old is your oldest? Porkchop?"

  At the mention of his daughter's name, Hap stared out into the night.

  "Porkchop," he said softly. "She was such a good baby. Such a good daughter." He blinked away the stare. "Lemme see, she’d be nineteen now. I missed her birthday. She’d never leave the others, never."

  "Is there anyone else who might know where your children are?"

  Hap thought for a while then slapped his forehead with his palm.

  "The Constable!"

  "Constable?"

  "PC Pierre. He’ll know. He knows everything around here."

  A gust of wind blew through the kitchen. Marvellous shivered.

  "Can you trust him?"

  Hap told her everything he knew about PC Pierre.

  "He’s an honest man," said Hap.

  ___

  Forest said that the Solstice would be clear so Porkchop decided that the family should eat dinner outside that night. Bull and Jones had brought home a large pheasant in the early morning hours and it had spent the afternoon roasting over the fire pit in the yard. In the ashes of the pit Santa had poked in some potatoes. They ate the pheasant with the roasted potatoes and fresh greens and herbs. Pater ate quickly then got up to leave.

  "Good grub," he said. He nodded to Santa then disappeared into the night.

  Bull lit the bonfire and they watched the flames as they digested. Mixer squirmed his way out of Santa’s arms and now played in the dirt at her feet.

  Eventually, the big dinner and the warmth of the fire took its toll and heads began to nod. Narrow’s curly-haired head rested on his chest. Forest and Bull snored. Jelly and Jones sat astride a bench and leaned their backs against each other. Porkchop was bent over the table, her head laid across her folded arms. Soon, even Santa and Titania were asleep.

  Mixer watched the flames for a while. He followed a star’s movement. In the months since they'd arrived at the farm, Mixer had finally come to the conclusion that, on his own, he could do lit
tle to move his plan forward; he had the mental power but not the physical capacity and he would need both to get what he wanted. For that he needed one particular person; but he had to find him first.

  For the last few weeks he had practiced throwing his mind but it required solitude and he was rarely alone; either Santa or Titania was always around. The first time he’d done it successfully he’d connected with a boy. The boy was crying and through the gauzy film of his eyes, Mixer could make out a large shape striking down on him. He had hurriedly pulled away.

  The next two times he’d connected to an old woman. The first time she was singing:

  Oh I knead, knead, knead

  It’s my creed, creed, creed

  Bread will bake, bake, bake

  For pity’s sake, sake, sake.

  Her vision seemed to jerk up and down and Mixer had immediately felt nauseated. A few days later he tried again and found her focused intently on a man’s arm. Through her eyes he saw her zero in on a particular area then yank hard. He’d flailed at the sudden movement and cut the connection.

  As his family slept around him, he took a deep breath, emptied his mind and cast again, wider this time. He passed over many people he came across; none of them were the right one. The stars tracked across the mid-summer sky and eventually into the void came a voice Mixer had heard before. It was the only voice he’d ever respected. It was loud and obnoxious. He cried out in surprise and delight.

  Summer

  They’d been working in the fields since dawn and now Jelly, Forest and Narrow came inside the barn, their faces red and dripping with sweat. It was too hot to work in the fields any longer. The daily