Saving Eden

by K R S McEntire

  “Depends on the crop. The corn we planted typically would take at least a couple of months, if it grew at all,” Jesse explained.

  Was there something special about these seeds in particular that caused them to grow while the settlement struggled to find food?

  “So, are you going to let me out for tutoring?” Angela asked, trying to sound casual, even though she was sure she wasn’t coming back. There was no way she would let anyone lock her away again. She needed to get to her father.

  Jesse unlocked the door, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking away. He frowned, obviously hoping for more.

  She arrived at the Miss Kaper’s home early and knocked on the door before Violet got there. Miss Kaper opened the door in tattered pajamas and informed her that she was an hour early, in case she hadn’t noticed. Angela asked Miss Kaper if she would help her read something, and pulled the file with her mother's picture on it out of her pocket.

  The document notes said that a woman named Florence was treating her mother, Aliyah Fields, for a mutation. Her mutation caused her to become hypersensitive to her environment, draining toxins from the plants and animals around her. If those plants and animals were sick and diseased, as most were during the wars, she would catch the sickness while the plants or animals became well. The drugs used to treat her mutation had positive results throughout her pregnancy, but after she had her child, the illness came back and Aliyah died. The document noted that the baby tested positive for a mutation as well, but it didn’t specify any more information about the baby. The file said, “Further studies were to be done on the subject.”

  “How did you find this?” the teacher asked.

  Angela realized she was “the subject,” and that she would have to tread carefully if she wanted to prevent any more studies from taking place on her. She didn’t want the Watch getting called to silence the supposed mutant. Then again, Miss Kaper had sacrificed a relatively easy life as a teacher to help mutants. Angela doubted she would turn her in.

  “I think she’s my mother,” Angela said.

  Miss Kaper looked at the woman in the picture.

  “She sure does look like you,” she observed.

  Angela took the file and put it back in her pocket. She started fidgeting with her watch.

  “Are you in any kind of trouble?” Miss Kaper asked, looking genuinely concerned. Angela decided not to share the entire story. She was a hundred percent certain that Jesse knew who she was when he stumbled upon her garden, and therefore doubted her ability to be a good judge of character.

  “No,” Angela said. “But my father might be.”

  All of the pieces of the puzzle were coming together, and Angela felt like she had been pulled into a tornado that had been chasing her for days. She could barely breathe. The strange occurrences that happened to her were starting to make sense: the dreams about her father, the blueberry bush bearing fruit when she slept near it, the seeds sprouting overnight. If her mother had a mutation while she was pregnant with Angela, it makes sense that Angela might have a mutation too. If her mutation was keeping her garden healthy, how long until her home was just as barren as the rest of the world?

  “Is there any way I can help?” Miss Kaper asked, moving away from the doorway so Angela could enter her home.

  “No,” Angela said. “I’ll have to talk to my father”

  “Well, okay,” Miss Kaper said. “Let me finish getting ready for tutoring. If you ever need anything, let me know.”

  As Angela waited for Violet to arrive, she started to think of her father again. She wished she had talked to him about leaving first and told him goodbye. Seeing as the Wardens were eager to kill anyone with a mutation, it was easy to see why he kept her away from other people. But why did he keep her in the dark about her mutation this entire time? She decided that she didn’t regret leaving; she just wished things had turned out better. She was proud of her bravery, but what had it cost her father? Without her, was he starving?

  Violet arrived, and they continued their tutoring sessions as normal. After tutoring, Violet stopped Angela before she had a chance to walk out of the door.

  “Remember, we are meeting Winter today,” she said.

  “Right,” Angela said.

  “She said she’ll meet us near the schoolhouse to talk,” Violet said, grabbing Angela by the arm and pulling her along.

  By the time Angela and Violet approached the schoolhouse, all of the students had left. There was a woman sitting under a tree, so small she might be confused for a teen. This woman had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin. A hopeful smile filled her face when she saw Angela approach.

  “Hello.” The woman stood up and shook Angela’s hand.

  “Hello. Winter?” Angela asked.

  “I’m so excited to meet you,” Winter said.

  “Is she the one? From your dream?” Violet whispered to Winter excitedly.

  “She sure looks like it, but there is only way to be certain,” Winter said, handing Angela a couple of seeds.

  “Plant them tonight,” Winter said, “Keep it near you when you sleep. Can you do that for me?”

  Angela laughed, “I’m way ahead of you.”

  “Oh?” Winter said.

  “You want to know if they will sprout overnight,” Angela said. “And they will.”

  Winter leaned closer to Angela, asking, “Do you know what you are?”

  “No,” Angela admitted. “But I am learning. Quickly. I know that my mother could absorb toxins from the environment, as if her body was desperate to suck the sickness out of the world. It killed her. I’m not sure if it will kill me, too.”

  “Do you feel sick?” Winter asked.

  Angela shook her head. “I feel fine.”

  “You are not your mother,” Winter said.

  “My mother could make plants healthy, just like me,” Angela said.

  “She absorbed toxins, like a sponge. We think you convert toxins. Your body turns it into something useful, something that doesn't hurt you. ”

  Angela didn’t understand.

  “When we breathe out, we rid ourselves of carbon dioxide because too much of it is toxic to us. Plants convert it into something they need. There are many life forms that detoxify their environments by absorbing radioactive substances, heavy metals, or toxic chemicals. But when a human has an ability like that, it’s a miracle,” Winter said.

  “You mean a mutation?” Angela clarified.

  “All of evolution is a mutation or a miracle, Angela,” Winter said. “It depends on how you look at it.”

  “How did you know who I am?” Angela asked.

  “You are not the only girl with a gift. I have been given the gift of prophecy,” Winter explained. “Violet has a similar gift, but mine told me you would come into our lives.”

  “Are you guys carded?” Angela asked.

  “Yes,” Violet said.

  “How are you able to get a card with a mutation?”

  Winter smiled mischievously, “Not all mutations show up in tests. They never notice mine.”

  “My second mutations didn’t develop until I was older,” Violet said. “I already had a card at that point. I just avoid going to school or to the doctor. That makes me pretty much like every other teenager.”

  Winter giggled.

  “Did The Resistance try to recruit you?” Angela asked.

  “I had no desire to join. I support The Resistance,” Winter explained cautiously, “but I don’t agree with their methods. They believe the ends always justify the means, no matter who is kidnapped, or caged, or dead. We do not lie, cheat, or kill. If we did, what makes us any better than the Watch? Our biggest difference is that The Resistance seems to think mutants should be cured, unless they are useful, like you are. Then, they should be exploited. We don’t believe mutants should be cured, or used. All should live in peace.”

  Angela nodded. “How did you know about me?”

  “I dreamt of you for the
first time three years ago,” Winter said. “I didn’t think much of it at the time. You looked a lot younger, about thirteen, and you were gardening. I didn’t think it was real at first. Most of my visions take place in locations that I recognize as reality. Your garden was unreal. I thought it was just a dream at the time, but I kept having them. The problem was, my dreams never offered any clue as to where you, or that beautiful garden, were located. I asked around, hoped and prayed, looked at maps, but still had no clue how to find you. Until one day, I had a dream in which you and a boy drove into the city. This dream took place months ago, but I had a feeling it was going to happen soon.”

  Angela was silent, thoughtful.

  “So I am a mutant?” Angela needed to hear someone else say it.

  “You are,” said Winter.

  “That explains a lot,” Angela admitted, but her dreams of a peaceful, legal life with her father would be unattainable now.

  “I have yet to see what happens next, but I believe you will play a role in the liberation of this land,” Winter said. “I would love for you to visit my home sometime. I run a Lighthouse.”

  “Like for boats?” Angela asked.

  “Not exactly. It’s just what we call houses like mine, a safe house of sorts for people who don’t feel safe. Only, no cures, no cages,” she said.

  “I will think about it,” Angela said. “I have to go.”

  Violet smiled at Angela. “Safe journeys.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Unwilling to be confined to the storage room, Angela decided she would not go home that night. She made her way to the beach near Navy Pier instead, and sat on the sands her mother had sat upon years before Angela’s birth. Eventually, Angela walked over to the pier and climbed into the lowest seat of the Ferris wheel. Sprawled out against the cool metal, the sides of the pods kept her hidden as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the wheel carrying her up into the sky.

  The next morning, the sky looked cloudy and the air smelled of rain. Angela rushed to Miss Kaper’s home, but the rain started while she was on her way and she was soaked before she got there. Miss Kaper looked concerned as Angela stumbled into the room, late and wet.

  “I have spare clothes if you ever need them,” Miss Kaper said as Angela plopped down on an empty beanbag. Angela spent her morning with the teacher, wrapped in a blanket and learning to read. She could sense the teacher’s concern, but she didn’t want to drag anyone else into her problems.

  After tutoring, Violet asked why she was wearing the same clothes for the third day in a row, and why they were so damp.

  “I didn't go home last night,” Angela admitted. “They want to keep me locked inside a storage room, with their garden.”

  Violet nodded, concern in her eyes. “You should stay with Winter,”

  “I honestly don’t know who to trust,” Angela said. “Everybody wants something from me. Why would Winter be any different?”

  “We all want something from each other. It’s part of being part of humanity. But, I think what she wants is to know that she was able to help you,” Violet said. “She will have some clean clothes and a place for you to stay.”

  Angela forced a smile. She appreciated the help, but getting back to her father was still of utmost importance to her at that moment. At the same time, if Winter really did have a prophetic mind, it wouldn't hurt to pay her a visit. Maybe her visions could help Angela find her father. She decided to take Violet up on her offer.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Angela and Violet assumed that The Resistance was likely already looking for their lost captive, so they took a scenic route to Winter’s home. As they walked through alleys and side streets to avoid more popular roads, Angela took the opportunity to learn more about Violet’s family.

  Violet’s father lived in apartments near Navy Pier. She visited him often. Her mother and brother had passed away years ago.

  “My brother . . . he mutated,” Violet said. “It made him violent, and all the cures we found made it worse. My mom actually ended his life. It’s not something I like to think about.”

  Angela thought of how Becca must have felt when she took her husband's life to protect her child. She understood why The Resistance wanted to find cures just as much as she understood why Winter didn’t want to find them.

  “Did it hurt when they put that star in your eye?” Angela finally asked, deciding to change the subject.

  “Oh, that? It’s a birthmark,” Violet explained. There was lightness in her voice, as if she was accustomed to answering this question.

  Angela eyes got wide, “But it’s a perfect star, with five points. And it’s red. Your eyes are green.”

  Violet just shrugged.

  They approached a small, inconspicuous home. The walls were painted blue and the grass, while yellow, was trimmed. Pots that held artificial flowers sat on both sides of the front door. Violet knocked and Winter answered.

  “Come in!” Winter exclaimed, then rushed back to the stove. “It’s so good to see you.”

  The front door opened upon a kitchen and dining area. Winter was making something that smelled delicious in a pot on the stove, reminding Angela of how hungry she was. The dining area had been converted into a small, cozy living space. Instead of a kitchen table, there was a long, low table near a loveseat and a small television. A collage of pictures of family and friends behind the television.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Angela said, meaning every word. It was the coziest place she had seen since coming to Chicago. The room felt lived-in. There were various items scattered about in incorrect locations — art supplies, tools, and sweet-smelling soaps — as if everything that didn’t have a place to be was welcomed in this living room. Angela would soon learn that displaced people were also included.

  “Thanks. I call this place my sanctuary. I didn’t know if you’d actually come. I hoped you would, of course,” Winter said.

  “Why didn’t you think I would come?” Angela asked.

  “I didn’t know if I scared you away,” Winter said with a shrug. “Follow me, my young apprentice, I have a safe space where you can stay. Welcome to the Lighthouse.”

  There was a long hallway between the kitchen and dining area, through which Winter lead Angela. They arrived at a larger living area with a couch, loveseat, and a stack of sleeping bags up against the wall.

  There were five people in the room, and they spanned a wide range of ages. They were unified in the warmth and kindness they treated Angela with as soon as she walked into the room. Angela appreciated meeting Winter’s friends, but all she wanted to do was check on her father. She wondered if Winter’s ability to foretell the future could help.

  “You mentioned being able to see . . . beyond what is there. Can you see my garden?” asked Angela.

  “My visions come when they choose,” Winter said. “I have not seen your home since you’ve come to Chicago.”

  Angela started fidgeting with the watch on her wrist. The pitch of her voice heightened as she asked, “Why did you have a vision of me anyway? Do you always have visions about strangers?”

  “No, usually it’s people I know. Sometimes I experience a bit of deja vu and see people I have yet to meet. When I saw you and that healthy garden, my first thought was that I was having a vision of some place in the past,” Winter said. “My great-grandfather signed up for one of those Advanced Bioengineering studies. They gave him some type of injection that altered the cells of his brain. After that, he would experience intuitions that always seemed to turn out right. My mom got them, too. That's how Violet’s mind works, as well. I think I’m the only person in my family who actually has visions.”

  Angela sat down on the edge of the couch.

  “My father is there without me, and I need to go back and see him right away. I need to make sure he is okay, and I can’t help but feel like time is running out. I don’t know how long it will take for all of the food to die.”

  “I unde
rstand,” Winter said. “Do you know the way back home?”

  “No,” Angela sighed. “But Jesse does. I will have to go back to The Resistance tomorrow to convince him to come with me.”

  Winter nodded, “I have to stay here and host the guests, but if need be, Violet can go with you back to The Resistance.”

  “Guests?” Angela asked.

  “There are many people who call the Lighthouse home, and more who visit because they enjoy the company,” Winter said. “This room will be full by tonight.”

  Angela looked around the room and noticed a quote mounted on the wall. The large frame dominated the room.

  “What does that say?” she asked Winter, pointing up at the quote.

  “I will bring my people Israel back from exile. They will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them. They will plant vineyards and drink their wine, they will make gardens and eat their fruit,” Winter answered, without even looking up at the words to read them.

  Angela walked closer to the framed quote, both drawn to and confused by the words.

  “It’s a quote from the Bible,” Winter explained. “One of my favorite verses.”

  “Bible?” asked Angela.

  “It’s one of the old holy books,” she said. “I like the reminder that once something is gone, it can come back stronger, be rebuilt.”

  “Isn't religion banned?” Angela asked.

  “It is,” Winter shrugged. “But I am not a fan of censorship.”

  Violet led Angela to a large bookshelf that held ten times the amount of books in her father’s old boxes.

  “We have collected a lot of holy books here, as well as the works of philosophers, artists, and thought leaders of the past,” Violet explained. “There are people who still practice the old religions, no matter what the Watch says. Winter, for example, is a Christian.”

  “Do you practice any of them?” Angela asked.

  “I don’t practice a particular faith, but I think it’s so important that people can choose to think or do as they please. Come, let me make you a bed. You will understand what I meant by Lighthouse when the guests arrive later.”