Chapter 25
That was the first time.
When it was done, I didn’t think much about it. I just remembered it.
This time, I’m seventeen and I don’t look around during the two-minute wait. Two of the eighty-seven, so really it’s only eighty-five that the average person can stand. But I have four hours.
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.
I just sit still and keep unclenching my hands. I’m freezing cold. I wish someone was here.
This time, when it starts, for a moment I think it won’t be so bad. But it is. I keep thinking there is no possible way the touches can’t get any harder. No hotter, no colder. The sounds can’t get any louder, the tastes and smells can’t get any stronger. But they do. Which is unbelievable.
It lasts for a while.
Far too long.
I hate it and I want it to stop.
I wish it would stop.
Why won’t it stop.
Why why why why why why why why.
Please stop.
Please stop.
It won’t.
I hate it. No.
The beautiful lady doesn’t come for me, although I want her. I wish for her, then I beg for her, then I hate her for leaving me here all alone. Then I tell myself to get over it because she wasn’t even real in the first place. With that, a cloud comes, and its edges are fluffy so it works just as well.
I’m on the floor, my face in blood, vomit, and mucous. All that and more, is the evidence. That my insides and the outsides were so confused. It’s a strange feeling having everything back in its place again. I lay there. No reason to move. I feel the spinning of the earth, missing its tilt. And I’m so heavy.
Dr. Preston comes in and picks me up off the floor, which is nice of him. I’m rigid in parts and limp in others, numb all over. I don’t want him to touch me anymore. I hate him. I can’t even shudder though, which is both vexing and alarming for about a moment.
He hands me off to someone else whose uniform buttons pluck me and again I wish they would stop. I’m too tired. They hose me down and dress my throbbing body. Oh there we go. Now I’m shuddering. They pierce me in the thigh.
“Crusa? Come on, it’s time to go,” Andrew says to me.
I don’t care.
When he pulls on my arms I go with him. I drag by his side, legs wonky and filled with gel.
He, Andrew, I recall, asks me what’s wrong. The words “I don’t know” form in my head, but then I get tired so I don’t say anything. I list against him. The floor is funny. I giggle, then stop. I’m tired.
It’s the outside. Holy, it’s frigid! I feel familiar arms and ancient breath. Being outside is better. Why don’t I always be outside? At some point, Andrew picks me up and carries me.
We turn a corner, and down the hill I see it. It makes my lungs hitch, tears prickle, lips tremble. The ocean.
I love the water.
One breath comes in and lights me. I chew my lip and tumble out of Andrew’s arms.
“Crusa? What are you doing?”
I’m running through the woods. To somewhere that’s on the tip of my tongue…
I fall but that’s ok. I crawl hungrily through the underbrush. Hungry hungry hungry me.
Andrew catches my ankle. I squeak.
“Stop it. Come on.” He sighs in a hocking snot kind of way. It’s disgusting.
“No!” I scream, broken but full. I scamper on hands and knees. He tries to grab me so I scream again and doggie-paddle the air. My heel hits him and he drops me.
I yell so he knows I didn’t like that. My voice is rough and husky now, and it feels good. Like scratching at a scab. So I do it again.
Loud, hysterical, hellish yells with a calmness in between. I stop doing that when I run too much.
I hate my clothes because they won’t stop touching me. They won’t stop, all over me, they won’t stop…!!!!!
My mouth waters and my lips part, soft. Somewhere inside I know there are reasons this isn’t right, but I sail right by them. Easy. I wave.
I run. I can hear it under my feet, and I want it so, so much. There’s a thrilling, twinging in my breast and my weight is drunk. Air comes in tiny gasps, driven by the twanging rhythm. I feel the childlike presses on my chest. The dock blocks my view of the dropped black sea.
I know this place. I’m proud of that because I can’t remember anything else. I’m also proud that I beat the boy to the docks.
Live sinews wrap me from behind, throwing me back against Andrew. He’s yelling, spit lands on my ear and neck and the loud, gruff sound is too much. Too, too-o-o-o-o-o much. I squirm. I kick and whine. I want to go in the water.
I know he doesn’t want to hurt me, so in a flash of clarity that I know he doesn’t expect, I grab at him just like my instructors taught.
“Oof,” puffs on the back of my neck. I drop and sprint, giddy. He takes a few clomping footfalls on the squishy wood. He’ll get me.
His feet, they’re beside me- Oh. They got my wrist. My other wrist, I slither. Scratchiness grasps at slick me, I roll and at the same time I fall I’m free.
“Hey!”
My body is the earth, hot spinning. Won’t move. He doesn’t come touch me, though. I wait for it.
Still no. I pivot. Many men, hunching shades. I slink backwards. They stay well away.
I’m done wanting what I did.
“Hey.” Easier now. The top hard layers of the word peeled off. “Crusa, angel love, can you see us? Andrew’s gone. It’s just us.”
I do see that.
Lium holds his hands up, palms to me. I watch him silently, poised to run.
Hale steps from behind him, it’s too loud, too brusque, and I spin towards the end of the dock.
“Wait,” Lium says, jagged surfaces covered in thick lemon glaze.
I lick my lips and turn back again. They’re both not moving, it’s for me, so I don’t either. It’s fair.
“Wait,” he repeats and the word is in my own mouth, I eat brown bread and honey.
I am waiting. He must notice this because he nods.
I have to rally several times before I can actually speak. My plan is to pretend I’m not crazy.
I wag my head, “I just wanted to swim,” I explain, concerned about the twinkling in my head.
Lium nods, his hands tell me to go easy. We watch each other, and I blink three well-spaced times before he finally does once, just as he goes to talk.
“It’s pretty cold for that,” he says, lifting his chin to the space at my back.
“I don’t mind.” I shake my head.
“I do. Why don’t you wait. Until tomorrow. I’ll go with you, then.” Bread, every air pocket saturated with that heavy dark honey. I don’t really want to swim so bad, so whatever, if it makes him happy.
I’m hit by a bolt of fabric. Hard, hollow, and scrunched. I try to wiggle free, annoyed at being caught so many times tonight. This never happens. But this time, the grip is irresistible, and I know it. I go slack.
“What, what! I won’t go in,” I try not to whine. But apparently Hale doesn’t trust me, which, for the record, I resent, because he won’t let go until Lium has his hands securely on me.
Close up, Lium looks like he’s deep in thought. I see ripples around the twin harvest moons that are his eyes. I hide behind him, from Hale. He tells everyone it’s ok, and Hale agrees, but they don’t stop that agreeing until I do too.
“We should take her home,” says Hale. Lium says yeah. He keeps trying to fish me out from behind his back. It’s a struggle that’s funny to me.
He says, “It’s pouring. I can’t bring her back yet.” He keeps talking.
What? I relax my taut senses. Huh. It is raining. There’s a drawn out flash of lightning during which I look down at myself and see my own skin. A thunder god claims the islands as his. I smell the black and blue hushes twisted with silver, on my tongue they’re bur
nt fish skin.
“Come on, we’ll wait it out inside. Let’s go, Crus,” Lium’s hand carefully, carefully finds mine. I’ve never seen him concentrate so hard. I follow, keeping as close as I can, as that feels best.
A fluorescent light buzzes above my head. I wince.
The cabin of my uncle’s boat is tiny. Two rows of curtained windows, a narrow couch, an aisle. A step, a bathroom stall, and a rumpled bed stuffed in the bow.
Lium pulls down some clothes and gives them to me. More like sets them on my head in the miniature space, but I can’t figure them out so he has to wrestle them onto me. They’re huge. I flap my arms, and the sleeves flop. I’m hot.
I remember suddenly to say thanks, but nobody really says you’re welcome. I tell them I really need to sit. I could’ve definitely done this, at least, on my own, but they both go overboard in trying to assist me. I assume I look pretty bad.
I tell them I’m fine once, but I’m not really, I’m reeling and fluish on the drugs they gave me.
The counter to the sensory spray makes me ticklish, and boiling. Plus I think I got some buffering class drugs, strong ones. I’m having trouble remembering one moment to the next. But I keep forgetting to be disturbed by that, so in a way I’m grateful.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
I frown. Lium is crouched in front of me. It makes him seem as if he takes up more space. Strange.
He asked me something. I forget.
“Can you tell me what happened, Crusa?”
I can’t.
He helps me lay down on the couch. He doesn’t ask me any more questions. The rain drums. I like music.
The boys take out a deck of old cards, I smell them. They play some game. I watch them, the flipping and the concentrating. I go curl up on Lium’s legs, which messes up his playing, but he carries on like it’s worth it.
I close my eyes, to the flipping and the drumming and the brothers’ voices. They debate whether they should wake me and give me something to drink. I say I’m awake. I’m not thirsty, but they won’t leave me alone, so I drink the cider.
“What’s that necklace? I always see you playing with it.”
“Hm?” I look down to see for myself, my hand playing with the pendant on my abdomen. I giggle and say, “Seaglass. My brother has one, too. My zizi says our mother made them for us, when we were babies, so people could tell us apart. At first, my eyes were blue and Milo’s were green. But then both of our eyes turned black and people kept thinking I was a boy and he was a girl.
“So, our mother went down to the beach one day and searched all around until she found two pieces of seaglass that matched the colors our eyes used to be.” I move my fingers so the boys can see the smoothed shard wrapped at the end of the chain. I love the color. Indigo, I call it, under a cloud of salty wear.
“See? Mine’s this color. And Milo’s is light green.”
“It’s really pretty,” Lium tells me in that voice that makes me want to taste what he’s saying again. Or would, if I didn’t feel so seasick.
Seasick is grey, and hollow black smoke, if you’re wondering.
I sleep easy, for some reason. The only time I wake is when I notice I’m sweating in the stifling cabin, the sweatshirt and radiating boy on me making it even worse.
But it’s too hard to get the right limb out of the right hole with my eyes closed. I feel a tug on one sleeve, so I turn and it’s gone. It’s blissful, and I sigh. I lay down, and go back to sleep.
The next morning, the boy’s tell me I can stay if I like.
“Mmmm,” I’m very groggy, “People will be looking for me,” I feel apologetic. Thinking hard, I say, “Hopefully, last night Andrew covered for me, probably said he dropped me off at Cassie’s, or something. But if I don’t come back this morning…” I don’t finish but before I know it, Lium’s taking my hand and setting me on the strangely unmoving dock.
It’s late in the morning, so all the boats are out and there’s nobody around. Hale takes off. And there’s nobody on the path to the meetinghouse, already having come and gone to the fish market. I find the lack of people in such a familiar place a balmy treat, and plus I don’t have to stop holding hands with Lium.
We walk in an easy quiet the whole way. When we reach the green, I see Andrew jogging across it.
“Hey,” he flags us down.
“Hi, Andrew,” I say, when he stops in front of us.
“Crusa. Good timing. Your aunt was just starting to wonder where you were.” He looks relieved. He’s out of place here, when I’m not around, I think.
“I told her you were at your cousin’s, and she asked if it was Cassie, and I said yes. Cassie is one of your cousins, right?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I figured all you island people are basically cousins anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a chance that she was trying to sniff out a lie. But I wouldn’t put it past that woman.”
“That was smart, thank you.” Although the islander comment was a little much, the reasoning was sound, I have to admit.
“No problem,” he waves away my thanks and takes my arm. I go to start around the green with him, but I can’t. Lium is still holding on to my opposite hand, and he’s not walking.
He can let go now. I look up at him, but he’s not paying attention. Neither is Andrew.
“So, I heard it was a disciplinary thing yesterday. People were talking about your cohort at the c-b station. It’s a big one, huh? There are some really interesting ones out there. I think it’s going to be my next series. You and I are connected, so I can’t interview you for it. I mentioned to them how you were upset when I picked you up, though.”
“What? I wish you hadn’t done that,” I pull back. For a moment, he’s stunned. Then he’s busy not looking me in the face. I think he’s ashamed of my outburst. I suddenly feel like I’m standing here all alone.
“I didn’t say anything bad, I was just said you were messed up. After being in a focus room, it would be weird not to be. They give you any more of that stabilization solution for today?” The drugs. I picture myself laid out on the floor of the shower rooms. When they said it was a new formula that would last seventy-two hours. My shoulders hunch.
“No,” I say.
“I guess it hadn’t kicked in yet when I picked you up.”
“Guess not.” I’m tired of talking.
“So, how long was it?”
I shrug.
“What’d you do?”
“Mmm,” I examine the grass.
“Hey, back off.” I start, just like Andrew. Because neither of us said that. We both turn to Lium.
“She’s my fiancé, I have a right to know,” Andrew says to him.
Lium growls, “You’re not married yet,” straining to keep himself together. I’m taken aback, as he’s been so calm up until now.
But Andrew isn’t intimidated. He tells Lium, “I appreciate what you do for her, my friend. But the report said it was four hours. Do you have any idea what that means? I don’t think you do. But I do, and it being the girl who will be my wife, it pains me. It’s not normal. I don’t understand why they used it like that on her.” His words are unexpected. I wonder if he is on my side. Even against reason, like true family. I don’t know what to make of it.
He puts a hand on my cheek, “Promise me you’ll be more careful, babe. You’re one of the smartest girls I know. You could avoid it, if you really wanted to.”
What? Oh.
“Apparently I can’t, Andrew,” I hiss. I find myself furious at him.
He lifts my arm, “Any bruises?”
“Just shut the fuck up.”
“Mhf,” I say as Lium squashes me. I don’t like the next step he takes towards Andrew. Neither does Andrew, who goes steely. Sometimes I forget he was military trained.
Lium has an arm full of me, though, and he seems to realize this a few seconds later. He’s conflicted about it, as far as I can tell.
&nbs
p; “Lium.”
We’re at the far edge of the green. I’m dying to go to the house and rest. I feel like the earth is pulling me to it. It really wants me to lie down. And I’d love to do what it says. I swear it’s just as hopelessly annoyed at these two boys as I am.
“Tell him to go over there, Crusa.”
“It’s ok, Lium.”
“Tell him to go over there or I’ll kill him.”
At that, the earth tells me she’ll talk with me later, and I nod for her to go. With Lium trembling around me, I say calmly, “Andrew, would you please go over there? It would help everyone.”
He leans close, too close to Lium, so I don’t know how I feel when he ends up by my ear. I become conscious that my hair is a thick, knotted mess, black and metallic smelling. I remember Lium smoothing it down last night. Andrew lingers, though, so it can’t be so bad. It shocks me how much boys can ignore.
“Go easy on him, will you, love?” He kisses my jaw, soft and lingering, calming except for the way it makes the fingers clench against my stomach. It’s good that’s all they do. I pat them. Andrew backs away, saying, “You’d better go into the house by yourself so it’s not suspicious.”
“Right.”
Light dust trails his footfalls. I sigh. Then I pick my mangled hand out of Lium’s.
“Ouch, Lium, you’re hurting me.”
“Huh? Oh, sorry.”
I massage my joints. “It’s ok. So, I’ll see you around then?”
He’s off in his own world, though. Normally, I’d find this adorable. Right now, it’s exasperating.
“I knew somebody’d hurt you.”
“They didn’t.”
“You’re lying to me.” Not technically. I keep massaging.
“No.”
“You only had one bruise. On your knee.” He says it like an observation. I’m wearing pants, though.
“It was too dark…”
“I checked. On the boat. While you were sleeping. You were out. I had to make sure you were ok.”
I consider him, picturing it. I suppose it was necessary. Though I can’t believe I didn’t wake up.
“Whatever, Lium. Then you obviously know I’m not hurt.”
“You’re still lying.”
“No I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You’re being obnoxious.”
“That’s true, but that’s not what we’re talking about right now. Keep up, little Crus.”
“I’m going in to wash up. When I come out, do you want to play golf?”
“No.”
“I’ll play with you,” I sing.
He hesitates, “All day?”
“Fine,” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “So do you want to play or not?”
He comes very close, “I do. Only just you and me.”
“Fine.”
“I like you,” his throat becomes scratchy, “I wish I could have you all to myself.” I watch as the hope and disappointment circle each other around his face. “I’d be good to you.”
It takes me a moment to respond. He’s not in any hurry, though, so it’s ok.
“I know you would. You already are.” I swallow, give him a sad smile. Ease him down to kiss his forehead, and promise I’ll be right back.
We have a good day. The exercise is bracing.