Metallic Heart

by Liahona West

  “That’s…okay. I still like it.”

  She handed it back to him, smiling. Seth looked at her, large eyes underneath a mass of curly hair. They squinted when he smiled. He lifted his head, scanned the area, then pointed to his right, adjusting the picnic basket on his lap.

  “There,” he said. “Perfect spot.”

  Joy lifted her baby boy into her arms. He could walk, clumsily, but in the past week the action took too much out of him so he mostly sat in the chair. Walking the rocky beach was too much of a fall hazard. She sat him down on a log and ruffled his hair.

  “Stop,” Seth laughed, his grey eyes crinkling again and his mouth opened in a wide smile, batting her hand away. “You’re messing…it up.”

  “Sorry.” She smiled and laid out the blanket. “I forgot.”

  She glanced to his chair, adapted by him to operate via a smaller solar panel, and smiled as she remembered the day she walked in on him tinkering with it. He’d looked up, squinted, his hands greasy, and announced he’d figured out how to attach a scavenged lithium-ion battery to the solar panel to allow for faster speed. To beat Edmund in a race against his old manual chair, he’d said. The memory made her smile.

  “It’s okay, Mama. I…know you’re getting…old.”

  She laughed as she took the sandwiches he handed her, brought back to earth by his words. “Old? You think I’m old?”

  Seth nodded with a sideways smile.

  Together, they ate their lunch in silence. Joy thought spending time with Seth would naturally make talking to him easier, but it didn’t.

  “What do you want to do after this?” she asked.

  Seth looked up at the sky. “I think…I’d like to…go home. I’m getting…tired.”

  “Oh. Sure,” Joy croaked.

  When they finished eating and packed up, Joy turned the powerchair around and pushed it toward the facility on a bumpy sidewalk. Grass peaked between the cracks. It’s almost time to clean this up again. She needed the walk clean so she and Seth could use it.

  Seth’s breathing caught her attention. He was getting worse. A few days ago, he’d stopped eating as much as he used to.

  “Mama,” Seth took a deep breath. “Don’t be…mad at…Eloise. Please. She’s only…doing what I…asked.”

  “I know, baby. It’s hard to see you like this.”

  He reached up and squeezed her hand. The bones and knuckles were prominent and Joy bit back tears. “I’m…okay…with it. Are…you?”

  Joy lifted her face to the sky, tears tracing lines down her cheeks. My sweet, sweet boy. You are a better person than I could ever be.

  Part of her wanted desperately to stop the madness and just be his mom for what little time he had left. But, if she did, she couldn’t say she tried everything. Her job, as his mom, was to protect and watch over him.

  She couldn’t give up.

  I can do this.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bannack

  His eye had healed just enough to see out of. The fight training he received would be their downfall, and all Bannack had to do was wait like a jaguar in a tree, calculating his attack from above on an unsuspecting impala.

  The keys jingled on the other side of the door.

  Icy fear flashed through Bannack before he brought his shoulders square and waited.

  The fear dissipated and left a deep, bubbling hatred.

  Bannack waited for his torturer to enter.

  The door opened and Bannack slammed into the man. He cried out in surprise. They crashed into the door. The man clawed at Bannack’s hands around his throat.

  He squeezed, fueled by a volcanic eruption of rage. His vision blurred at the edges.

  Bannack gritted his teeth. He squeezed harder, watching the man’s eyes bug out of his head.

  A shock of a knee to the gut made Bannack stagger backward. Bruises wrapped around the man’s neck. He charged with the stun baton.

  Bannack was ready.

  One ill-timed swipe was easy to dodge. He caught the stun baton mid-air and wrenched it from the man’s hands, then stabbed the tongs into the man’s jugular.

  He writhed on the floor.

  No longer would he suffer at the hands of this horrid human being.

  The cries of agony fell on deaf ears.

  Eventually, the man lay still.

  “No more,” Bannack hissed, dropping the baton on the ground. He knelt beside the corpse and whispered into his ear. “I…will not…yield.”

  Two sharp bangs shocked Bannack out of bed, his arms and legs wildly flailing as he crashed to the floor, the blanket tangling with his limbs. His heart pounded, voracious in its feast of blood.

  Unfortunately, the act of sleeping in a bed proved difficult and was most likely a mixture of too many years on the rocky ground and nightmares. He managed them well, or so he thought, by giving as little time between sleep and sunrise as he could, choosing to travel until he dropped out of exhaustion. He tired of living afraid of his own dreams, and so he returned home to find a place to settle down. The first night home and he stumbled straight into Eloise at the lab.

  His hand clenched against his chest, Bannack called out. “Who—” Bannack cleared his throat of the shrill pitch, “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Eloise. You know, if you want to stay here permanently, you’re gonna have to pitch in.”

  Bannack pulled on the door. Eloise stood before him, her ponytail stuck through the back of an old Seattle Seahawks cap, a thick strand of hair covering up her scar. Golden eyes peered up at him. She wore a yellow tee with the front tucked into the high waist of distressed shorts. Brown streaks of dirt stuck to her cheeks and sweat made the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck stick out at odd angles.

  He pulled up short, staring down at the unexpected view. This was a different Eloise than before, and she made his knees weaken for a moment.

  Eloise smiled. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  “Morning,” Bannack replied, struggling to talk with his heavy tongue. “Thanks for the bed.”

  Eloise peered past him. “Was the floor more comfy?”

  “What?” He turned and saw the pile of blankets on the floor. “Oh. No. I mean, sometimes it is. But the bed was real nice.”

  “Well, put a shirt on and follow me,” Eloise said, flicking her hair off her shoulder. “Today’s harvesting day and we need all the manpower we can get.”

  “Give me a second.”

  Bannack yanked a shirt over his head and followed Eloise down the hallway, a karambit handle poking out from behind her back. The knife, held in the palm of the hand with an index finger threaded through a ring on the end of the handle, resembled a Velociraptor’s claw.

  How many other knives does she own?

  “What are we harvesting?” he asked.

  “Peas, broccoli, brussels sprouts—which are way better than I remember as a kid—potatoes, onions, and some swiss chard. Keep up.”

  Bannack jogged after her as he struggled to put on his shoes while moving. He didn’t even try tying them and left the laces to drag. More than once, Bannack knocked into people passing on the opposite end of the hallway, apologizing several times. His cheeks were still warm when he caught up to Eloise.

  “You do not waste time.”

  Eloise blinked up at him as if his question was strange. “Places to go, things to see. Come on. I’m going to introduce you to Sibyl.” She bounced down the two flights of stairs, letting a mother with her three children pass them on the landing. The boy waved at Eloise and she ruffled his hair. Eloise walked toward a group of workers slicing at the bottom of swiss chard stalks but paused abruptly. “Just to warn you, she can be a bit much.”

  Confused, Bannack followed Eloise to a woman with long black hair in an intricate braid hanging so far over her shoulder, the end tapped her elbow as she worked.

  “I’d be careful with that blade,” Eloise said. “You might slice the end of your h
air off.”

  The woman, who Bannack assumed was Sibyl, stood and chuckled. The sound was bright and refreshing.

  “I am careful, thank you very much.”

  Sibyl was fairly tall, almost head height with Bannack’s six-foot-two frame, and had warm, dark brown eyes. When she smiled, deep dimples appeared. Her eyes drifted to Bannack, and she paused.

  “Who’s the hunk?” Sibyl leaned close to Eloise, half-whispering.

  “Sibyl.” Eloise shoved her friend. She turned an apologetic eye to Bannack. “I told you she can be a bit much. She’s special.”

  “Excuse me!”

  Bannack chuckled. “Bannack Owusu.” He thrust his hand forward, and she took it gracefully.

  “Where’d you find him? He’s got an excellent grip.”

  Bannack couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Eloise groaned and ran her hand down her face, pulling at her chin. “Seriously, Syb? You’re impossible.”

  “Only on Fridays.” Sibyl winked at Bannack and whispered, “She hates it when I embarrass her. Between you and me…I can’t help myself. It’s too much fun.”

  Oh, he liked her. A lot.

  “Now!” Sibyl clapped him on his shoulder. “Let’s get you a job. Do you want to husk the peas or pick the brussels sprouts?”

  After an entire afternoon of picking, shucking, and cleaning the produce that would be food for the Compounders, everyone gathered to eat lunch. The cool breeze laced with the humid scent of impending fall blew through the grass as groups of workers settled into their food. Bannack watched, wide eyed, as people scooped steaming, thick potato stew, colored with peas, carrots, and either chicken or rabbit meat. They grabbed some flatbread and settled down in groups, mingling quietly as they used ripped pieces of their bread as a utensil.

  “Here.”

  Bannack accepted a wooden bowl from Eloise. She ladled a serving of the soup, the heavy sloshing driving Bannack mad with desire. As far back as he could remember, he had been living on a steady diet of game, edible weeds, and berries. The quaint lunch with the Compounders was nothing short of a luxury.

  “It seems like you’re impressed with our Compound,” Sibyl said from behind Bannack as she tossed bread and stew into her mouth.

  “I am,” Bannack replied. “This is something I never dreamed again possible.”

  Sibyl laughed once. “It’s pretty sweet.” She took a bite of her food. “I gotta say—and let me know if I’m being nosy—but your eyes are crazy blue.”

  “Yeah. My mom had a half blue eye, too. It is called Waardenburg Syndrome and affects our hearing, eyes, and skin. I don’t have the white in the front of my hair like she did but I’m completely deaf in one ear.”

  Sibyl’s eyes widened. “Woah.”

  “I can read lips really well. Maame taught me how.”

  Bannack looked over and watched Eloise laugh with a teenaged boy holding a bucket of water, took a sip from the ladle, and inclined her head to the clouds and sighed.

  What would it be like to feel that again? I don’t even know how to—

  “Hey, Leese!” Sibyl called out and Bannack jumped.

  Eloise sat at the foot of a large oak, using her bread to scoop out a mouthful of food. When Sibyl called out, she glanced up, waved, and a thin line of stew dripped down her chin.

  Bannack smiled. He remembered her propensity for being messy while eating and how one summer, at the neighborhood barbeque, she dripped hot dog condiments and an ice cream cone on her clothes.

  “So, how do you know Eloise?”

  “We are old childhood friends,” Bannack said while walking to the oak. “Our houses were across the street from each other.”

  Sibyl smiled, and Bannack noticed the mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Best story I’ve heard all day. How cute! You guys found each other again.”

  Bannack couldn’t help but smile around Sibyl. “You already know that, though, right?”

  “I do.” Sibyl sat in the grass beside Eloise. “But it’s fun to hear you talk about it.”

  “Talk about what?” Eloise asked as she wiped her chin.

  Sibyl crossed her legs and brought her food into her lap. “How you guys met.”

  Bannack leaned his back against the cool bark of a tree and allowed his sore body to relax. Cicadas buzzed around them.

  Eloise nodded. “We were neighbors as kids.”

  As she crossed her legs, Bannack noticed a brown anklet. “You still wear it?”

  Eloise glanced down at the jewelry. “No matter what. Remember? The old string broke, so I got a new one and made it to fit around my ankle.”

  A ping of nostalgia spread through him. Eloise promised him, when they were ten and eleven after he gave her the bracelet, that she would keep it forever. It hadn’t been something he specifically asked for, but she promised him nonetheless. Then somewhere along the way of growing up, the bracelet became an anklet.

  “What are the drawings?” Sibyl asked and pointed to the three wooden beads with symbols burned into their surface.

  Bannack reached for Eloise’s anklet and she responded by lifting her foot out of her sandal. He grasped her leg in his hand. For a moment, he paused and stared at the adinkra engraved beads, caught up in remembering using a wood burning tool to create the small designs.

  “This one in the middle is an adinkra symbol for friendship.” Bannack explained. “It is called ese ne tekrema, the teeth and the tongue. They may play different roles in the mouth and may come into conflict, but they need to work together.”

  “And I’m assuming,” Sibyl pointed to lettered beads on either side of the adinkra symbol, “those are for Bannack and Eloise.”

  Eloise nodded. She ran her hand along the beads, peering up at Bannack through her eyelashes. His breath caught and he stared at Eloise, her gaze fierce, matching his beating heart. Suddenly, the act of holding Eloise’s ankle felt too intimate and Bannack released her foot, his neck heating. She tucked her foot underneath her in the grass.

  After eating in silence, the warm stew seeping into his bones and making his taste buds sing, Eloise sighed. She placed her empty bowl in the grass and rubbed her stomach. “I love Moira’s cooking.”

  “Mmm.” Sibyl swallowed a mouthful of food then rotated the spoon in the air several times. “Reason number five thousand and six why having a professional chef is the best thing ever.”

  “Agreed.” Eloise closed her eyes.

  Loving the breeze traveling through the cotton tee to his sweaty skin underneath, Bannack laid in the grass. The strands tickled his cheek.

  “Did your parents ever cook with you?” He asked.

  Eloise spoke up first. “No. Not really. Or, at least, I don’t remember.”

  Bannack sat up. “Never? What about cookies? Brownies? Bread? The meat dish with the wide, long noodles…Lasagna. Not even lasagna?”

  When he named each dish, Eloise shook her head while fiddling with her shirt hem. “I don’t even know how to cook an egg. And don’t look so shocked. Not every mom cooks with their kids.”

  He realized, when she looked at him, that her shoulders drooped. With a start, Bannack tried to backpedal. “I did not mean offence. I am surprised, is all. Food was huge in my family.”

  “What did,” Sibyl tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, “your mom make with you?”

  “Maame and I cooked together constantly, which you know.” In response, Eloise smiled and nodded. Bannack continued, talking mostly to Sibyl. “At first, I thought it was boring, but I grew to love it. We connected that way. Agya kept recipes from Ghana in a special box he would challenge us to make: goat light soup with fufu, ampesi, jollof rice. Mmm. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.” Bannack paused and smiled. “I miss the way things were.”

  “Yeah…” Sibyl nodded. “So do I. I remember one time,” she laughed, “my dad and mom were spinning pizza dough around the kitchen island and I was in the middle. My dad,” she began la
ughing so hard she struggled to speak, “he lost control and it landed on my head.”

  The infectious laughter passed to Eloise and Bannack, and they both began laughing. Sibyl leaned forward, her hand against her face, and when she stopped, she wiped the tears from her eyes.

  "They're gone now," Sibyl said as she stared at her feet. Her demeanor changed dramatically and Bannack worried her laughing years would turn into true ones. Then she blinked, smiled, and leaned into Eloise who cried out as her food nearly spilled. "But I have Eloise, and that's plenty for me."

  He watched her, a bit confused, in the way she shifted from sad to happy but determined not to push further. No one on earth had escaped the trauma of losing people important to them.

  As the clouds shifted in the sky, moving the sunlight across the grass, Bannack watched groups of kids pass wicker baskets out among the members of the working Compounders. He sat up, curious.

  One boy handed a basket to Eloise. She smiled at him. “Thank you, Finn.” While she inspected the basket, contents hidden by a cloth draped over them, Eloise asked, “How is your mom doing with the new baby?”

  “Agatha is loud and cries all the time,” Finn replied, rubbing his arm. “Mama says she’ll stop, but it’s been a whole month and she’s still doing it.”

  “Hmm. Let your mom know to visit Soora. She could help.” Eloise smiled and poked the young boy’s shoulder. “You’re a big brother now. How cool is that?”

  Finn smiled a bit. “Agatha is kinda cute.”

  Without another word, Finn ran back to his mom, a lanky brunette with tired eyes and a bundle of wild hair poking out from a sling tied to her back.

  When Eloise met his eyes, his heart beat faster. How long had he been staring? To cover up, Bannack said, “You seem at ease here.”

  “I am,” Eloise said. She cleared her throat and stood, hoisting the basket to her hip. “Follow me. I want you to meet someone.”

  “What’s in the basket?”

  Eloise moved a cloth from the top and revealed a collection of fresh produce, flat bread, and a metal container covered with a fabric and secured by a piece of twine.

  “Stew?”