Chimera (The Weaver Series Book 1)

by Vaun Murphrey

  “You know I do, Maggie.” I had been asking her and Gerome since getting to the compound. They found ways to put me off with vague answers or promises of future talks when I got ‘settled.'

  “Weavers mentally connect to one another through family lines and strong emotional attachments. You grew up in a very unconventional way, Cassandra. You weren't instructed or groomed for Weaver life. No one spoke to you there, did they?”

  My gaze strayed to my boots, and I scrutinized the tiny scuffs in the leather. I’d always figured the lack of verbal communication was a form of torture or a way to break me. When I didn’t speak, Maggie patted me on the shoulder so lightly I almost didn’t feel it through my bulky coat.

  “More than likely this was done to make sure you formed no attachments and possibly to make you lose your mind from loneliness.”

  Her voice was soft with sadness and also a bit of anger. Maggie’s office was beginning to dim as the ever present cloud cover more thoroughly blocked the sun. Motes of light and dust sparkled behind her head almost like a halo or a glimpse of an aura.

  “There is another question I have for you, dear. Did they ever touch you in a private way?”

  I cleared my throat and squirmed some more on the couch as I hugged the pillow tighter to my middle. If it was possible to squeeze it in half, I might accomplish it. “The last day.”

  “Because you started your menses?”

  The way Maggie said it made me want to speak of it to get it out of my head. “Yes, they took me out of my cell to a place I’d never been to see a man I’d never seen before.”

  Maggie asked, “What did he do?” She almost looked afraid of my answer. Her lips drew together in a tight line so hard they turned white from the pressure.

  “Not much right then. The worst came later in my cell. His eyes scared me. I made a name for him in my mind. When Laser Eyes touched me—,” The words caught. I tried a question instead. “Why would my menses matter?”

  At the mention of my tormentor’s eyes, an anxious look passed over Maggie’s face. She shifted her bulk against the desk and crossed her arms over her breasts.

  “Your menses mattered because a Weaver’s mind and body have to reach maturity before attachments form. This Laser Eyes, as you called him, was forcing a physical attachment in preparation for a mental one. It’s rape of everything a Weaver is, and it’s evil. You’re more acquainted with the dark side of life than anyone your age should be. I’m sorry, Cassandra.”

  Tears brimmed in Maggie’s eyes, and she blinked rapidly. With a grunt and push off the front of her desk, she moved to the couch. Being starved of touch of a good kind, it made me draw back when any person came too near. I sensed a need in Maggie as she gathered me to her. Red hair tickled my cheek as my chin rested on her soft firm shoulder.

  “You feel like a bag of bones, girl. I should make you eat ten times a day.”

  “Maggie?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Why would your Council want me dead?”

  Her hand came up to touch the back of my head lightly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed no one has given you our physical location? That’s because the Council fears an attachment and that you’re a plant for the enemy. You're also untrained and a danger to yourself and others as long as you remain so.”

  I’d had enough touch, and before my heart managed to beat itself out of my chest, Maggie needed to let me go. Perhaps she sensed the tenseness because she chose to release me. Sitting side by side as we were, a little distance was needed to make eye contact. I used it as an excuse to slide one cushion over and then sideways against the arm.

  “Just who is the enemy?”

  “That’s a longer story than I have time to tell. Pieces will unravel in your training and probably with Gerome today. I don’t have the time or the heart for it at this moment, dear.”

  I could hear sounds of movement in the patient area outside Maggie’s office. “Just know Gerome and I will leave the compound before we let anyone hurt you.”

  Maggie rose from the sofa with more grace than I ever could and extended her hand. By the glint in her eyes, I think it meant more than a hand up. I took it. “Thank you, Maggie.”

  With a twist of her lips and a wiggle of eyebrows, Maggie pulled me to my feet as if I weighed less than a grain of sand.

  “Head home and wait for Gerome.”

  Chapter Three: Questions & Answers

  I nodded as Maggie released my hand. A knock sounded on the office door, and a head full of mouse-brown hair poked in soon after. It was the woman from the front.

  Her face became strained as she said, “She’s having a fit again, Maggie.”

  Maggie fired back, “Her brother?” She moved with a quickness that didn’t match her size.

  I followed because I had to go the same way but I felt like an intruder. To Maggie’s mind, I was no longer there. The patient lying so still when we passed by earlier was flailing wildly on the cot, but making hardly any sound.

  The mousy woman said, “He’s at the school for the day. I told him we would manage if we could. Should I get him?”

  Maggie took stock of the scratches on the raving girl’s face. When she went to claw her eyes, Maggie slid onto the bed behind her to wrap her arms and legs around the girl in a hold that looked almost comfortable.

  “She’s not too bad this time. It’s okay Nicky, leave him to his school. Lord knows James doesn’t get much time to himself.”

  The bell rang at the front. Nicky threw her arms up and said, “When it rains it pours.”

  Smiling, she turned to sashay down the row of empty cots. From behind she looked like a mobile mop with brown hair down to her shoulder blades and a stick for a body. When she smiled, though, her whole face lit up. I could see why a patient might like her around.

  Maggie glanced my way and finally noticed I was standing by the bed. “Since you’re here, dear, you might as well help with the scratches on Kara’s face. Go over to the cabinet just outside my office door and grab the peroxide and bandages,” she said with a nod of her head.

  I headed toward a beat up, waist high metal cabinet. I hadn’t noticed it going into her office because it was painted the same color as the wall. Squatting down, so my heels hit my buttocks, I pulled it open with a metallic clang and rattle to survey the different tubs of cotton balls, long swabs, and tongue depressors until I found the brown peroxide bottle and the blue and white box of bandages. I grabbed some powdery white latex gloves as well.

  By the time I got back to the cot, Maggie had managed to wrap herself so thoroughly around the pale perspiring girl the only thing they could move were their heads.

  After putting all the supplies on the table next to the cot, I slid on the gloves, unscrewed the peroxide lid, grabbed a cotton ball, and held it tightly to the mouth of the bottle as I flipped it upside down then back up quickly. Maggie watched me all the while in silence. The only sound was the grunt of effort Kara made as she tried to move in Maggie’s arms.

  Admittedly, since the poor girl’s head was moving, getting her scratches cleaned and bandaged might not be the easiest task. I thought for a minute and removed my left glove by grabbing the bottom with my teeth. With my ungloved hand, I touched the back of Kara’s head gently, trying not to jab her with my fingernails as she jerked left and right. Then I applied the peroxide soaked cotton ball lightly to her abraded cheek and watched it bubble and foam. I disposed of the now pink ball of soaked un-fluffiness and released Kara’s head so that I could unwrap a bandage from the blue and white box on the table.

  All the while, I felt quiet inside with a determination that I could do something right today by helping this poor girl who was out of her mind. Before I knew it, the deed was done. I looked to Maggie, who had been my silent captive audience, as I peeled off the remaining glove and raised my eyebrows for approval.

  Maggie regarded me with a solemn look and a nod.

  “Go on and head home, Cassandra. Our patient seems to be cal
m now, and Gerome may be there waiting for you.”

  Something in her tone made me feel like perhaps I’d made another mistake. After I had returned everything to the cabinet, I glanced at Kara. She lay relaxed in Maggie’s arms, possibly asleep. The hold Maggie had on her limbs now seemed light.

  I made my way down the rows of beds and through the swinging doors.

  Nicky was having a hushed conversation with a mother holding a tiny, red-faced, sleeping baby. Tears streamed down the mother’s cheeks as Nicky smiled a calm, glowing smile and murmured some assurance I couldn’t make out. Preoccupied with their interaction, I didn’t look in front of me as I raised the counter on its hinge. I felt a hard thwack as it came halfway up, right into the chin of the boy from the test room.

  “Ouch! Do you think you could look where you’re going?”

  An enormous red mark already bloomed on the left side of his chin. I drew back at his tone and almost dropped the counter flap which would have hit him again. He reached out a thin wind chapped hand to catch it. Our gaze caught and recognition flashed for him.

  Nicky asked, “You okay, James?”

  Still looking into my eyes, he said, “I’ll live.”

  I mumbled a, “Sorry,” and tried to make myself invisible or, at least, get out of his way. This had to be Kara’s brother. Now that I knew the connection, I could see the similarities in their coloring and it explained why Kara had looked familiar.

  James brushed by me, holding the counter with an arm over my head until he was behind me. His long white fingers held the flap until I was out of range and then lowered it gently closed. Without another look or word to Nicky or me, he melted soundlessly through the swinging doors.

  I sighed and glanced at Nicky, who had resumed her quiet conversation with the worried mother as I walked toward the door to the outside. The weather hadn’t improved much since I’d left it. The clouds shut out most of the sun and wetness filled the air which probably meant rain and muddy streets to slog later. I pulled the hood of my coat over my hair, shoved my hands deep into my pockets, and hunched my shoulders against the biting wind. Sometimes, just sometimes, I missed my bone dry, sun-baked prison courtyard.

  Not many people were out and about, so my walk to our quarters would, at least, be better than the trip from the school earlier. I was about halfway there when I heard a faint, “Hey!” from behind me.

  Turning my whole body into the wind, since a head turn would only net me the inside view of my hood, I saw James trotting toward me. His expression wasn’t angry, just determined. Waiting for him to catch up to me, I watched the way he moved with an economy of motion almost like my uncle, Gerome. In fact, he could have been a younger version of my uncle with his tall, thin build. If James continued to grow, he might end up even bigger, but right now he resembled an upright daddy long legs.

  James stopped in front of me, breathing rapidly with puffs of cold air. The red mark on the left side of his chin was full and looked like it might leave a bruise. James' brows were so perfectly arched over his slanted eyes they looked drawn. His irises were a green, so light they reminded me of weak herbal tea. James’ mixed features weren’t uncommon; apparently no one suffered from racism in this community.

  “Maggie said you helped with Kara. When I went back to see her, it looked like she’d just gone through one of her fits. Sometimes they get bad when I’m not there, and it’s more than just a scratch or two. Maggie told me it was the shortest episode Kara’s had since we’ve been here. Even if you’re not responsible, I just wanted to thank you.” James shoved his hands into his coat pockets and leaned back on his heels as he looked me in the eyes.

  “I didn’t do much, just bandaged her scratches to help Maggie. I’m sorry I hit you with the counter.”

  He offered a quick smile. “Still, my sister isn’t your responsibility so thank you again. By the way, you freaked out the staff at the school, more so than even I usually do.”

  I looked at him sideways and frowned. “Okay, thanks. I’ve got to go.”

  Great! Just stinking great. I knew Melody’s reaction couldn’t have meant anything good when I gave her the test. My mind started to work double speed as I tried to imagine what new problems this would cause for my aunt and uncle. I hadn’t been anything but a mess and a mountain of obstacles to overcome since getting here. It would be an absolute miracle if Maggie and Gerome didn’t let the Council dispose of me.

  I was already a step or two away when James grabbed my hand. The feel of his fingers on mine was startling and cold, but also pleasant.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Can we start over? I didn’t mean to upset you. I talk a lot when I’m nervous or excited. When I’m awake, I talk a lot. My dad used to say it was my brain trying to escape.”

  The smile he threw my way was weak, but I didn’t want him to let go of my hand, so I stayed as still as possible.

  “Look, my name is James. I haven’t been here long either and from what I’ve heard about you, neither of us arrived under the best of circumstances.”

  I knew my face must have displayed a displeased or distrustful expression because James tripped over his next words almost as if afraid to stop talking or I might leave.

  “Okay, I’m making a mess of this. Sorry. We moved a lot, my family, and I’m used to the tests schools always like you to take. Supposedly, I’m a genius or something, and so they always make a big deal about me, but you blew their minds this morning. It's good to know there are other freaks like me.”

  At that, he let go of my hand.

  My fingertips felt raw from the sensation of his skin against mine, and I imagined if I looked down they might be on fire. The wind had picked up again to become a freezing wall of particle-filled annoyance. I’m sure I’d feel the dirt between my teeth the next time I ate. Some of my hair blew into my eyes and I reached up the hand James had held to stuff the loose strands behind my ear.

  “James, I’m not very good at talking to people. Usually, I can’t get it quite right. I’ll try with you if I see you around, but don’t expect much. If you’ve heard people talk, then you know why.”

  I felt awkward standing there when anyone could watch us. James had mercy on me and my discomfort.

  “Alright then, I’ll see you around, Cassandra. You should know though that I don’t give up easy.”

  With a smile and a wink, he turned back toward the direction of the clinic.

  When he said my name I realized I’d never given him mine as he had, so he must have heard it around or Melody at the school had said it when we were testing. I guess Maggie could have told him at the clinic, my name wasn’t a secret, but I felt it was further proof I didn’t know how to observe the niceties of interaction with people.

  I resumed my trek to my quarters which didn’t seem at all appealing anymore, even despite the wind, when a deep voice in my ear made my body jump and my heart want to bang out of my rib cage.

  “What were you doing with that boy?”

  Once I turned to the sound of the voice, there stood Gerome with an anger clouded face. The lines around his eyes and mouth suggested he could smile, but right now that wasn’t on the menu.

  “Talking, and why are you sneaking up on me?” I stepped back a couple of steps. “If you’re gonna yell at me for talking to somebody can we, at least, do it indoors?” My hood had blown off, and my ears were rapidly turning into frozen lumps.

  Gerome frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d be in your room since I told you to go home after the test. Melody found me, by the way. We need to talk, but we can do it inside better than here.”

  The walk back was silent, cold, and extremely depressing. Before I knew it, the dull blue flaking paint on the door to our quarters was opening in front of me.

  I figured I might as well start the conversation. “So what did Melody say?”

  He didn’t answer right away but moved toward the kitchen and grabbed the kettle from the stove top, then began to fill it wi
th water from the tap. The pipes were loud but not louder than the howl of the wind outside and the creaks of the roof timbers as they resisted nature. I moved to one of the table chairs and rested my hands on the back. Its surface was smooth under my fingertips.

  Gerome put the full kettle on a back burner of the stove and turned the knob to heat the electric coil to that bright red-orange color that made me think of blacksmiths and smelting metal.

  “Would you like to take off your shoes and get more comfortable?”

  I sighed and pulled the chair out from the table to sit. “Gerome, please stop stalling and just tell me. I don’t like suspense.”

  He smiled as he grabbed two brightly colored mugs from the cabinet. After Gerome had finished prepping the tea bags, he leaned his hip on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. His shirt was going to lose its starch if he kept them crossed too terribly long. Wrinkles already formed around the shoulders from the weight of his divested coat. His wind-ruffled hair stuck up on top, so it looked a little like a dark brown, almost black, bird’s nest.

  Overall, Gerome was the kind of person whose demeanor screamed ‘In Charge’ and his appearance usually reflected it. I guess it was nice to be part of a family again and have the privilege of seeing him without his public face. My uncle cleared his throat, uncrossed his arms, and put his hands palm down on either side of his hips. He began tapping his long fingers on the counter’s edge.

  “Cassandra, did you ever go to school when you lived with your parents?”

  Some memories of my time with my mother and father were sharp and vivid, but I had found others to be so vague I almost couldn’t remember them. I’d only been five when that life violently ended.

  “I don’t think I went to school, but mom taught me a few things at home. Taught is the wrong word. We had discussions about my understanding of stuff.”

  My mind went back to the last day I’d been with them. My parents had argued all morning, but what about exactly I couldn’t remember. The feeling inside my heart was they had disagreed over me. They’d rarely fought. Most of the time they were happy, so I was happy because they were my world.