Chapter 24: Pink Lady
Through the window above her tall grass swayed slowly in time with Naomi’s breath. Golden light fell upon the grass, and for a minute, she thought she could hear it singing: the sun harmonizing on the blades, in community with its kind. The grass simple, beautiful. She sat up.
The quilt on the bed was patch-worked in reds and purples—her favorite color—in patterns like grass. On it a black horse ran free.
Clothes sat folded on the bedside table, and the horse-flavored T-shirt sat unfolded on top. Next to the clothes, the horse figure Mr. Fitzpatrick gave her leaned on its side. Clara dozed in a chair. Her eyes opened like the break of dawn.
“You’re awake,” Clara said, stretching.
“Where’s Sammy?” Naomi asked.
“He’s in Gypsy Grove.” Clara said, “That boy is strong. I wouldn’t have believed it, but one dose of de-Pastification, a little sleep, and he was ready to go.” Clara shook her head. “Kind of handsome, too, don’t you think?”
Naomi felt herself blush. Clara stood, bent over, and picked up a pitcher and a large bowl from the ground. She motioned the pitcher toward the pile of clothes, and Naomi moved them from the table to the bed. Clara set the bowl and pitcher down.
“We cleaned off all the paste before putting you in bed, but you may want to wash up,” Clara said.
“How long have I been asleep?” Naomi asked.
“A full day, nearly,” Clara said.
“Oh,” said Naomi. She didn’t know she could sleep that long.
“You’ve been through a lot, even without Pastification,” Clara said.
“Oh,” Naomi said. She now realized there was a weight below her stomach. She said, “I have to . . .”
“Here,” Clara said. She moved to the corner of the room where a wooden box sat like a tree stump. Clara lifted the hinged top of it. “You can use this,” she said. “We’ve cleaned your clothes.” Clara thought about it a second and said, “Not the T-shirt, of course.” She moved to the door, opened it, stepped to the other side. “Call me when you’re finished,” she said, and shut the door.
Naomi swiveled her legs over the side of the bed, and hopped out. She went to the corner and looked in the box. There was some kind of pot down there. Here goes, she thought, and turned around.
She called, “Clara,” after she got her clothes on. Clara came in. Naomi shoved the horse statue in her pocket.
“All settled?” Clara asked.
“Yeah.” Nodding toward the chamber pot, Naomi said, “You’re not going to turn that into paste, are you?”
Clara smiled, and Naomi was happy that she had gotten the joke. “No,” Clara said.
Clara pulled the chair over, sat. She waved her arm at the bed, “Please sit.”
Naomi sat, expecting a lecture.
“We told your mom that you’re here,” Clara said.
“How do you know my mom?” Naomi asked.
“Well,” said Clara, “Endless Ranches isn’t very big. But, at this point, I’ll just tell you we have a mutual friend.”
“What do you mean ‘friend’?” Naomi said.
Clara said, “Your mom is a friend to our cause.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Anyway,” Clara said, “my mother wants to see you.”
“Wants to see me?” Naomi asked. “Why?”
“For a lot of reasons,” Clara said, “but mostly because of that.” Clara pointed to the horse-flavored T-shirt.
“What about it?” Naomi said, feeling tension in her throat. This felt very serious to her, like going to her doctor’s office. That doctor was always giving shots of paste. “Oh,” Naomi said.
“What?” Clara said.
“The doctor,” Naomi said. “She’s always shooting me up with paste. I get it now.”
Clara laughed. She stood and moved the chair against the wall. As an afterthought Naomi said, “What about Sammy’s parents?”
“We’ve talked to them, too.”
They left and went down the hallway to Tonya’s office. Clara knocked on the door. Anthony, the man from the cafeteria, opened it.
“Hi, Naomi,” he said.
“Where’s Tonya?” Naomi asked.
“She’s off today,” Anthony said. “Only white people work all the time.”
They passed through the office and Clara picked up a lantern from the desk. Anthony let them out the other door toward the pantry.
“You must be hungry,” Clara said.
“Yeah, I am,” Naomi said.
“We’ll get you something in the Grove,” Clara said, “But take this with you, too.” She took a round fruit off the shelf, and handed it to Naomi.
“An apple?” Naomi said.
“Yes,” said Clara. “This kind is a pink lady.”
Naomi followed Clara across the bridge, over the creek, through the pantry, and into the largest part of Gypsy Grove. The skylights filled the room with a dusty glow and the place smelled of some kind of primeval forest—like dirt and water and tree trunks, laced with the scent of fire. Naomi felt she was in a magical place where special things happened and people lived lives much different than hers. A few boys ran by, throwing a ball back and forth. When Clara and Naomi reached the thick of the wheelhouses, a shout rose up.
“Naomi!” Sammy rushed to her and threw his arms around her. She grabbed him the same, squeezing as hard as she could.
Sammy let her go, but she held on a little longer. When she finally released him, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “What’re you doing?”
“Sawing lumber,” he said. Naomi looked past Sammy where a large tree trunk stood on two wooden crosses. A saw jutted from the tree. Matt came over.
“I thought you were studying vegetables,” Naomi said.
Matt said, “Sammy knew everything already.” Matt put his hand on Sammy’s shoulder, shaking him a bit. “A natural farmer.”
Sammy pointed to the tree. “Matt is showing me how to saw planks.” He had woodchips all over him. “Lumber is one of the gypsy trades.”
“Was one of the gypsy trades,” Matt corrected him. “It’s something we can’t really do now that the paste company is around.”
“Why not?” asked Naomi.
“Patented all the trees,” Matt said.
“Stupid,” said Sammy. “Nobody can do nothing anymore.”
Clara called, “Naomi, come on. It’s time to eat.”
Naomi went over to the table where Clara sat. It was piled with assorted fruits in all colors of the rainbow.
“What are they?” Naomi asked.
Clara pointed, naming them one by one. “Strawberry, blackberry, raspberry, blueberry, watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew.”
“Honey, like from the bees?” Naomi asked.
“It’s just called that,” Clara said. “This is honey from bees.” She picked up a jar. “Here,” she continued, dipping a spoon inside. She poured some on bread.
“That’s browner than the other one,” Naomi said.
“It’s toast,” Clara told her. “Sit.” Clara handed her the bread.
Absolutely the sweetest thing Naomi had ever eaten, the honey was gooey and warm. She could hardly believe something this sweet was real. Clara filled a plate with fruit.
“Let me see that apple,” Clara said, and Naomi handed it to her. Clara cut it, and Naomi saw that the inside was white with a tinge of pink. She thought the whole thing would be red.
“These are the seeds,” Clara said, and cut them out. “You can’t eat them or a tree will grow in your belly.”
“That’s horrible!” Naomi squealed.
“Just kidding. Look,” Clara said, and she popped a seed into her mouth.
At first Naomi tried using a spoon to eat, but fruit kept falling off of it, so she just used her hands. They got all sticky and wet, but she didn’t care. She had more toast with extra honey. She didn’t feel full or heavy like she
normally did after eating breakpaste. This was totally different.
Eventually her belly was full, but she still felt great. For a while she just sat there, looking at the plate piled with fruit. She wished she could take it home with her and give some to her mom.
“Finished?” Clara asked.
Naomi patted her belly. She burped and smiled. “I’m finished,” she said.
“Well, let’s go see my mom, then.” Clara called out, “Sammy, come on!”
Sammy let go of the saw. Like a kid who knows playtime is over, he said goodbye to Matt and joined the other two.
People were working everywhere in the Grove: weaving baskets, cooking, sewing. A couple of women worked together on a quilt. A boy popped out from under the quilt, and then disappeared among the houses.
They passed a man next to a fire as he put thin wood slats into a boiling caldron. Next to him were some unfinished chairs.
Naomi saw that the Grove was full of paths, rather than roads, and the areas around the houses were workshops instead of yards.
Clara climbed the steps of a house, knocked, and called out, “Mom!”
Naomi heard a muffled, “Come in.”
Inside a woman sat on a couch that looked like a throne. A tabletop sat in front of her like a desk. Papers and books were everywhere. Blue ribbons covered one whole wall. The woman wore a flowing white shirt and brown pants. She sat cross-legged, writing on a piece of paper. She put down her pen.
“Hello, Naomi. Sammy,” the woman said. “I’m Adelaide.”
“Hi,” they said.
“Sammy,” the woman said, “I used to be friends with your mother a long time ago. Way before the horse wars. We were merely girls, it was so long ago.”
“I don’t know about the horse wars,” Sammy said. “I only know about the war in Oklahoma.”
“You lost a brother there,” Adelaide said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sammy said.
“John,” said Adelaide. “You have another brother there.”
It was not a question, but Sammy said, “Edgar.”
“He’s not that much older than you, is he?” Adelaide asked.
“No, he’s not,” said Sammy.
“You aren’t thinking of doing the same, are you?”
“No, ma’am,” Sammy says. “I don’t even know why we’re there.”
“We’re there because the paste factory wants us there. That’s the only reason,” said Adelaide.
“That’s what dad told John,” Sammy said, “But all the others said it was patriotic to fight for Endless Ranches. And the pay was good, John said.” Sammy looked at the ribbons while he said this.
Naomi’s heart went out to Sammy. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but did not have the words.
“It’s a shame,” Adelaide said. “Your mother is just devastated.”
He said, “How you know this?”
“Your mother and I use the Pastero.”
Sammy nodded, but Naomi didn’t know what she was talking about.
“What’s that?” Naomi asked.
“Gypsy mail. Ever since the paste factory took over, every way of communicating is monitored by the P.A.S.T.R.I.O.T. A.C.T. Most of us can’t even leave Gypsy Grove for fear we’ll be found and Pastified. The Pastero is the way we keep in touch with the outside.”
“They don’t find you right here next to them?” Naomi asked.
“You’d think they would. As long as we only rescue white people they’re content to harass the citizens of Endless Ranches, scaring people half to death about unseen threats. But now that you fried one of their turbines, they’ll be looking for you and coming after us. Even the farmers are getting turned out.” Sammy continued looking at the wall, quiet, maybe even ashamed. “It’s not your fault, Sammy. I told Molly you’re safe and warned her about a raid.”
Adelaide looked at Naomi. She seemed to be searching for something in Naomi’s face. “You look well,” Adelaide said. Then, sifting through papers she found a framed picture.
Adelaide said, “Clara told me you came here to find the horses. That a gypsy told you to come.”
Though she knew it was silly, Naomi said, “He was in my dream.”
Adelaide said, “She told me that, too. You have the horse-flavored T-shirt?”
Naomi held it out so Adelaide could see it.
“Hmm,” Adelaide said. Then she held a picture frame out to Naomi. “The man who visited you, was it this man?”
The picture showed a wooden fence and two people. One was the gypsy, dressed in the vest Clara now wore. His arm was draped around a young woman.
“This is him,” Naomi said. She looked at the young woman. The woman was laughing. Naomi said, “This is my mom!” Naomi said.
Adelaide looked into Naomi’s face as though she were searching for something there. Naomi did not know where to put her eyes, so she just gazed back.
“He’s my dad, right?” Naomi said, her voice matching her heart’s flutter. Could it really be that simple, she wondered?
“This is something you’ll need to ask Jessica about,” Adelaide said, naming Naomi’s mother for the first time. In a way, it sounded like an answer.
Adelaide reached out and Naomi returned the picture. Adelaide looked at it. “I miss those days,” she said. Naomi expected Adelaide to say more, but instead she asked, “May I see the T-shirt?”
Naomi shifted her feet. Questions sprouted in her head like wildflowers. Why had her mother never mentioned the gypsies? Why did Naomi know so little about Endless Ranches? Sammy, who at first seemed so ignorant in ways, knew a million times more than she did.
Adelaide looked at the T-Shirt. Again she said, “May I?” Naomi nodded. Adelaide took the shirt in her hands.
“All right,” said Adelaide. Glancing at Clara, she said, “I think it is time.”
“I agree,” said Clara.
“Get everyone ready,” Adelaide said. “We’ll need to prepare harvesters, extra cooks, and we’ll need wards in Gypsy Grove, and if things go as planned, possibly in the Factory Dorms and the Farmer’s Market.” Adelaide sighed. “We knew this was coming,” she said, looking back at Naomi. “We just didn’t know when. Now that the time is here, it’s hard to know what the future will bring.”
“It will work,” said Clara. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
Naomi looked at Sammy. He just shrugged his shoulders.
Adelaide said, “I’m taking these two to the surface. Alert Tonya, Anthony, and Nelda. Once I am finished I’ll send letters to Molly, Jessica, and Representative Valinda. Have Matt prepare a special delivery.”
“Yes,” said Clara. “We’ll get started.” She opened the door and was gone.