by Talis Jones
“You look beautiful,” he breathes.
I blush and glance down at myself, curling my toes self-consciously at the ridiculous socks. “Nyx is going to find me some shoes,” I mumble.
When I hazard to look up I see him wearing that crooked smirk. “I wasn’t transfixed by your feet.”
“Well that’s good,” I smile back. “And look!” I point to my face happily. “Nyx let me keep my freckles!”
Yosef approaches me by the window and gently brushes his fingers across my cheek. “Good.”
My grin fades as I remember what I need to do. “Yosef, I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything, hell you saved my life. Multiple times and all I’ve ever done is be so damn useless. You taught me to think better, be more careful, I just…I guess…” I cover my face in my hands unable to look anywhere at all and find the words easier to confess this way.
“Dammit I really don’t know. I keep going over it and over it in my head and I don’t know. I think I was just so tired of caring about you in a way I know you’ll never feel and thought maybe I should give someone else a chance but it couldn’t be some innocent stranger, oh no, because Maddy never does anything right or by halves and dammit Yosef, I’m sorry. I’m not sorry about Charlie but I am sorry that I hurt you and risked our family and acted like an all around idiot.”
Yosef pries my hands away from my face, gently but in a way that brooks no refusal. “Maddy, you’re not that scared little immigrant girl Castor brought home anymore and you owe none of us a debt for rescuing you because despite our best efforts you rescued us. You’re not useless, you don’t always do everything wrong, and you don’t owe anyone an apology for falling for Prince fucking Charming.” He keeps his eyes locked onto my own ensuring I hear every word and then he has the audacity to say even more.
“I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and so wholly unique I look forward to seeing what you’ll say and do each day. I think you’re loyal, trustworthy, and good. I think you’re so good a person that I want you to have your fairytale ending, even if it is with that pretentious prick.” He smirks at that last bit, his wall rising back up though it usually slams up in a fierce chill rather than slowly with humor like mine.
I open my mouth to tease back when he knocks the air out of me with four small words.
“I love you, Maddy,” he whispers, his walls crashing back down with a determination I can see in his eyes, “and I want you to be happy, whatever that means–”
Maybe he just meant that he loves me like family or friends, but at those words my body detaches from my brain and I cut him off with a kiss. Stretched onto my toes I press my lips against his and for a moment he doesn’t respond. It doesn’t matter, I just needed to kiss him once before I see Charlie again, before I decide to leave this place for a new adventure if it’s ever offered.
Then suddenly he responds, pressing me back against the wall, his hands holding me tighter and I realize he just changed the game because this is no longer a kiss goodbye, a kiss for forgiveness, a kiss of confession…it’s all of those things combined along with a kiss promising tomorrow.
“If you ruin my makeup and hair, Nyx will literally maim you,” I manage.
Yosef pulls back with a smirk. “Worth it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “But is it worth her sneaking in here and giving you a haircut from Hell?”
He laughs at the memory. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was heinous.”
Yosef shakes his head then carefully inspects me and lets out an impressed whistle. “I think I’m safe. Whatever shit she used must be expensive because there’s not a single smear or hair out of place.”
I make a cross in front of me and look up. “Thank you, God.”
He releases another one of his low chuckles before stepping back and sliding his business face back on, arms crossed. “You know what you have to do?”
I nod. “Have fun and make lots of money doing it.”
“You ready?”
I sweep my arm gesturing to my attire.
“Is Charlie going to be a problem for you?”
The expression I give him answers that question though deep down I’m far less certain.
“Just in case,” he smirks suddenly. From a small box he removes a little bundle of holly with three perfect red berries all twined with gold and pins the broach above my heart. “Rip it off and it’ll pull the pin from this festive grenade.”
I snort. “What every girl longs for in a corsage.”
He’s quiet for a moment then says more than asks, “I thought white was an issue for you.”
My own expression turns stony. “I’m fine,” I snap bitterly recalling that panic attack all too clearly. “There’s a lot of gold on this thing and it’s not white white…”
I take a deep breath. “People wear white all the time and I’m not constantly collapsing in the street at the sight, am I? Besides, I don’t see another choice so drop it,” I growl, internally shoving against the memories that threaten to burst forth at the attire though truth be told they don’t feel nearly as strong. Perhaps I feel like too much of a princess in this dress to be triggered by it. Maybe time really can heal all wounds. I don’t know and I don’t dare to think on it too long in case whatever defenses I’ve managed to hold up dissolve beneath the scrutiny. “I know my job and I know what could happen if I don’t come through. Family first.”
“Family first,” he nods, “but just in case…” He slides open a drawer and removes a dark green shawl embroidered with real silk and wraps it around my shoulders.
I tug the fabric tighter with a smile relishing the feel of it against my skin. “It’s beautiful.”
“Now all you need are some shoes,” he teases.
Opening the door he motions for me to exit first and step out into the reality of our lives. I check the clock on the wall of the ground floor. One hour till show time.
Fourteen
3 YEARS AGO
And then there was one.
I lie on the cot I share with Tabi, clutching the blanket to my chin and shuddering as I relive the past week. Has it been a week? Maybe not. Maybe more. I don’t know. I learned to brave my prison in the Confederation, or at least to pretend, and I learned to survive the trek across the Coalition, though at a heavy cost. Now I lie here in the den of the Alliance, facing another set of unknowns and variables. I’d rather shut my eyes and sleep it away but trying only makes the fear stronger not to mention the nightmares.
Absently I rub the latest bruise on my ribs from when Tabi elbowed me angrily for waking her up. I didn’t mean to. If I could simply choose not to endure nightmares, doesn’t she think I would?
Two to each cot we’re crammed together in the home for runaways, strays, and orphans alike. It seems like only this morning that a farmer pointed in a direction and I followed it to the border. There was an outpost with armed guards but also a surprisingly inviting welcome sign.
The guards felt familiar.
The sign had me terrified.
The last of the twelve I finished our journey alone. Maybe I could have stayed in the Coalition. Might have been safer with its more rustic living, but it was also ruthless and I knew if I stayed I would break. It didn’t feel like home, it didn’t feel like safety or arrival, and so I kept going. The Alliance, everyone said, was supposed to be full of money and dreams. Easy food, warm shelters, and ignorance enough to power a nation, they’d shake their heads and say.
Why doesn’t everyone move there? I’d asked more than once. If they had a refugee program to help set you up to prosper, then why stay here in a land of dust and bones?
Because the cost of comfort is too high, they told me. Out here we have little but we’re free, we have privacy, and we get our justice. In there we could have everything except for that.
I could appreciate that. Understand it too. But I’m not tough or savvy enough to pay the price of freedom and privacy so I’d hoped that the Alliance could be my answer. So f
ar, I suppose it is. I’m warm, I’m fed, and I’m not alone. Technically.
Maybe I need too much.
Maybe I’m too soft to live anywhere for long.
I surrender another shudder at the memory of my panic attack when the guards delivered me from a government building full of paperwork to a clinic for a physical examination as part of processing. A clinic full of white walls and white coats and smiles I didn’t trust. After so long away from that place I’d thought the fear had faded but it came surging back in full force when I stepped inside that clinic. How can a color have such a hold on me? Even the stains on the cot I lie on feel like a relief because it defiles the original crisp white and nothing so dirty would have been allowed in that place.
Everyone was surprisingly friendly, though I couldn’t trust it, even understanding despite having no way of truly knowing. They asked about my tattoo and I blamed it on the Corrals which brought on more sympathetic cooing. I was comforted and cosseted by a motherly looking nurse and the guards had pity in their eyes as they shuffled me to a train to be shipped to an orphanage with room to take me in. Each moment from border to delivery had my heart in my throat, a wild look in my eyes, and my pulse pounding quicker than the tracks.
How can the mind be so powerful and out of my control? It’s my mind, isn’t it? So why does it so rarely feel on my side?
“Time to rise and shine, kids,” a worker calls out, flicking the lights on causing my eyes to cringe away and protests to break out across the room. “Breakfast in ten,” is all the worker replies to our displeasure.
With a sudden yank Tabi snatches the blanket from me and rolls over. I yelp at the sudden chill.
“Keep stealing the blanket and I’ll hit you somewhere it hurts,” she growls.
Somewhere it hurts? My ribs protest at having their pain belittled. Apparently still unsatisfied Tabi unleashes a sharp kick and I fall off the cot onto the cold floor clutching my shin with tears in my eyes. Sometimes she’s nice and will split a snack. Other times she’s mean as a badger under attack.
Wiping my eyes and nose on my shirt I get up and follow some of the others to the community bathroom for a quick shower. I’ll miss breakfast but I can usually find something on the street and I’d rather risk it for the chance of warm water.
I shower quickly bringing my clothes into the shower with me and carefully washing one body part at a time in order to hold my clothes away from the spray. There are benches and lockers for your clothes but too often the others like to “shop” and then you’re stuck either naked until a worker happens by or grabbing whatever you can find. Either way it’s humiliating.
In nothing short of a rush to leave this tired building behind I hurry outside, my damp hair soaking through my shirt, and leap down the front steps. I take a deep breath of fresh air and set out to find something tasty to eat. The cameras watching us from every corner still raise the hairs on the back of my neck but if the photos and scans they’d taken of me while registering as a refugee haven’t tipped off the authorities yet then maybe they never would. Or maybe I’m living on borrowed time and I should’ve stayed in the Coalition after all. If I’d known about the refugee process I don’t know if I would’ve come.
The scent of fresh sugared bread hooks my nose and I shove those worries aside. Nothing to be done now except live while I can. So I follow my nose down the block to a man pushing his cart of goods. The scent must be fabricated to lure customers and, well, it sure worked on me.
A line is already deteriorating into a blob of hungry bodies and I seamlessly join the jostling. When finally a customer takes up the seller on the array of “fixings” to the side I keep my eager face turned towards the real goods like the others while my hand slips inside the man’s coat pocket where he stuffed one of the warm buns he bought. With quick fingers I snag the wrapping and turn away appearing for all like just another satisfied customer walking away with a treat.
I plop down on a bench in the park nearby and begin to unwrap the bun when someone sits beside me. I turn and freeze. It’s the same man I just stole from. My mouth goes dry and my heart begins to race. Do I run? Do I apologize?
“You can’t eat a warm bun without putting the orange honey glaze on top,” he shakes his head with a sorry sigh. “Here.” He holds out a little cup of glaze for me to take.
My brain is still tangled but my hand reaches out shakily.
“Hurry up before the bun goes cold,” he chastises.
I take the cup and when he turns his attention to his own food I carefully sniff its contents. Can you smell poison? I don’t know. I don’t even know what poison smells like if you can smell it. Suddenly the possibilities trap my mind and panic rises up my throat. I place the cup of honey and the bun on the bench and run. I run and run and run nearly plowing into a cyclist and my sudden pivot has me eating dirt.
A shadow darkens my gaze and I see that the man must have chased after me. I jump to my feet and try to run again but he catches me this time and I begin to fight like a wild cat not knowing what else to do.
“Calm down, kid,” he urges me. “I’m not going to hurt you, I swear– Ouch!”
I manage to bite him on the arm and free myself but suddenly another obstacle appears before me and this one has a look that chills me to a halt. “Leave me alone,” I warn, I plead.
“Castor,” the man in front of me calls looking over my shoulder. “When a lady says ‘no’ I believe it means ‘no.’”
Castor doesn’t laugh. “Look at her, she’s starving.”
“And?” the cold-eyed man asks.
“Knock it off, Yosef,” Castor bites. “I was just trying to help. She lifted some food from me and I–”
“She did?” Now Yosef looks intrigued. His gaze turns appraising as it takes me in. “Who taught you that little trick?”
“Bandy the ‘Yote,” I murmur still frozen in place with fear and building confusion.
Yosef’s chin lifts slightly. “You’re from the Coalition?”
“No.” My answer is automatic and I mentally kick myself. The less anyone knows about me the safer.
“That’s a Coalition moniker if I ever heard one,” he presses.
“Yep?” Why I sound shaky and unsure I don’t know. I need to focus. How the hell do I lose these two goons?
Yosef opens his mouth, likely to ask another question, when an officer calls out making their way over to us with their partner. One human. One Android.
“You alright, miss?” the human woman asks in a professional tone.
I can’t breathe.
“We saw this one chasing you,” she nods towards Castor, “and this one block your way,” she nods this time towards Yosef. “We have a zero tolerance law for harassment.”
She looks at me waiting for an answer but I can’t give it. The Android’s gaze seems to bore into my brain and I can’t– I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I’m losing feeling in my hands… They can’t file a report, what if they figure out who I am? Well then they would already know who I am surely. But maybe not and this will somehow raise a flag or make someone look deeper into who I am or…
My thoughts spiral and torment me fueling my terror with What If’s and I think I’m about to collapse right here in broad daylight surrounded by a group of strangers I don’t know that I can trust.
“She’s a refugee,” Yosef speaks up in my place. “She’s been through Hell to get here and is still a little jumpy.”
The Android gives the human officer a small nod and sympathy crosses her face. I thought you couldn’t lie to an Android but Yosef must have some tricks because he doesn’t know a thing about me. Pulling herself together she turns on Yosef. “And what is your relation to her?”
Yosef reaches out and shakes her hand as he introduces himself with ease. “Yosef Bones,” he smiles. “I’m her new guardian.”
She eyes him closely. “Bit young to be a guardian, aren’t you?”
He shrugs. “Perks of being the head of a prospero
us enterprise.”
The attention returns to me and I’m trying my best to keep the black spots from spreading across my vision. “This all true?” the lady asks.
“I don’t know,” I manage to gasp out. “I’m new here and and I don’t know.”
“Normally families migrate here, not unaccompanied minors,” she questions. “If this man is your guardian then I assume your parents were denied sanctuary?”
I shake my head and rogue tears begin to fall. Castor reaches out and tucks me into a warm hug as if he can’t help himself and though just moments ago I was running from this stranger I’m struck by how long it’s been since I’ve received something as simple as a hug and I lose it. Leaning into him heavily I begin to sob and barely spare attention to the others.
“Officer, we mean her no harm and this interrogation of yours is distressing my charge so I’m going to have to ask you to desist,” Yosef orders sounding for all the world like a genuinely concerned guardian.
The officer consults with the Android and I guess they decide he’s telling the truth because they leave us and suddenly it dawns on me that I’m alone again with two strange men who cornered me for some reason. I yank suddenly against Castor’s hold but then instead of a successful break I end up sagging onto the ground, my knees tucked against my chest and face buried in my arms as I try to get myself under control.
“Hey,” Castor’s warm voice says softly as he crouches in front of me, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. “You’re okay here.” I wipe my face on my sleeve and try to meet his gaze. “What’s your name?”
I take another slow breath that defiantly shudders. “Maddy,” I whisper.
“Hi Maddy, I’m Castor,” he smiles gently. “How old are you?”
