Johnson, C. W.

by The Son of Man 2, Elders of Zion

  A much-needed clinic had been built in nearby Sandy to service the southern Salt Lake valley, and Todd had been put in charge.

  Gladys divided her time among the five clinics - Todd’s included - and continued to make the important decisions.

  Maria had spent the morning doting over her new living room wall: this wall was clearly the focal point of the house and everything had to be just right.

  She had managed to get Todd to slow down long enough to have a group of family portraits done. Early on, at her insistence, Todd had positioned her favorite nursing chair just so, allowing an unobstructed view of her family splayed out prominently across that wall. She loved them all so much: Todd, so tall and handsome, with his long disheveled hair; little Joshua, who was changing every day, growing stronger and more adorable; and the little miniature Maria with her surreal green eyes and ebony hair sitting in the center…there, but not really. If anyone could understand Lylya, everyone hoped it would be Maria.

  She had positioned herself with one foot in the middle and one on the back of their couch trying to stretch the last few inches needed to properly straighten one of the family pictures. Movement caught her eye and she turned to look, lost balance and dropped with a plop to the soft couch cushions.

  Lylya, who had been silently watching from just outside her bedroom door jumped and retreated.

  Maria rolled off the couch and giggled at Lylya’s puzzled look. "Oops," she said. "That was dangerous. Don’t ever do it."

  Lylya stared curiously for a moment before slipping back into her bedroom.

  Maria righted herself on the couch, stood, moved to Lylya’s bedroom door and knocked.

  The door slowly opened and Lylya stood looking up at her.

  "Hi, sweetheart," Maria said. "Do you need something?"

  The little girl glanced at the floor and returned her attention to Maria. "May I have from water?" she said in her broken English.

  Maria smiled down at her."Oh, angel, you don’t have to ask. This is your house. Look, this is your bedroom. The whole house is yours. Everything in it is yours. We are a family now."

  She fell silent for a time waiting for any change in the child’s expression. None came. She took hold of Lylya’s hands, pulled her to the side of the bed and sat in front of her. "Lylya, I know this is hard but, I understand what you are going through."

  "No," Lylya said, pulling her hands away. Her expression morphed into anger. "You… can’t…know…understand," she said, stumbling over the words. "D…different. May I have from water?"

  Maria pondered the child’s face and gently pulled a lock of hair away from her eyes. She wiped the tiny tear making its way down her own cheek before finally answering. "Of course you can."

  She stood, took the child by the hand, and the two of them moved to the kitchen.

  "Do you know what we are going to do?" Maria said as she handed a bottle of water over to the little girl. "We’re going to get you your own little refrigerator so you can keep all the water you want right in your room. You can also have juice and popsicles—"

  "And trinkies?" Lylya said, still expressionless.

  Maria shrugged. "Well, you've mentioned that a lot. When I figure out what it is you can have it, how's that?"

  "And musical iPod?" the little girl continued.

  Maria giggled. "That I understand.

  The two returned to Lylya’s bedroom. "Do you know what I used to love to do?" Maria said. "I used to love to make a hut under my bed."

  She turned and pulled a spare blanket out of Lylya’s closet and draped it over the bed. "This is fun," she said as she went to one knee and proceeded to peek under Lylya’s bed.

  "No!" Lylya called out stopping Maria in place. She glanced at the child. "What is it, Lylya?"

  Lylya’s body had stiffened. Her little hands were pulled up in fists near her mouth.

  Maria pulled away from the bed and knelt in front of the child. "Lylya,” she asked, "what’s under the bed?"

  "It’s mine," Lylya said softly.

  "Can I see it?"

  Lylya pulled her little fists away from her face, a tiny tear appeared. "Mine," she answered so soft it was all but a whisper.

  "Will it hurt you?" Maria said.

  Lylya stood silent for a time looking at the floor. "No, not…danger."

  Maria stood up. "Okay then, still, we’ll leave the blanket in case you want to use it as a hut."

  The familiar sound of the front door unlocking pulled Maria’s attention away. "Daddy’s home," she said cheerfully. "Do you want to come out and say hello to Daddy?"

  Lylya looked up at her wide eyed, obviously confused by Maria’s complete lack of interest in what was being hid under the bed. She shook her head slightly.

  "No?" Maria said. "Well, okay. Maybe Daddy can come in and say hi later." She rolled her fingers through the child's hair and left the room.

  ~~~

  Lylya stood staring at the door. The pretty woman who called herself Mommy seemed… kind, but stupid. Did this woman think Lylya would forget who her mother was? Did she think her mother could so easily be replaced? This man whom the woman called ‘her daddy’ - how long before he discovered Lylya was a prostitute, and a thief?

  She glanced back towards her bed, went to her knees and crawled under. She knew she had been compromised. The woman pretended not to care, but it was only a matter of time now. The woman would return with the man to look under the bed. Lylya would be arrested before she had a chance to run away; maybe even given away, like a pet dog, to an even stupider American family. She had to find another place to hide it, a place the woman wouldn’t think of looking…but where?

  The stories of America were true. Even after the day, they were rich beyond reason. She had been given toys she didn’t even understand: a computer that folded like a tablet, but with English typing buttons; dolls that cried and needed to be changed; a red plastic car, the size of a wheelbarrow, fueled by batteries. They ate delicious food every day and they even gave her a room of her own. She had a movie-playing machine with dozens of DVDs and a radio that blared strange songs she had never heard before.

  If only Kheda had lived. They would have laughed at the silly movies about talking vegetables. They would have ridden together in the plastic car, and…how Kheda would have loved the food.

  The thought made a lump grow in her throat and it was becoming hard to breathe. She curled up and lay quietly under the bed. The tears flowed along with memories of a black puppy, a hut in the trash, a dying boy, and Kheda.

  ~~~

  "Is it Sunday?" Maria asked, appearing in the family living room. "Is it midnight? There must be some reason you’re home so early."Her smile melted at the sight of Todd’s disquieting expression, the way he sat on the couch, stiff and pensive. She came to a stop in front of him. "What?"

  Todd sighed deeply and leaned back on the sofa. "We have trouble." He leaned forward. His hand moved to the coffee table and began drumming on the wood surface the way he did when he was really upset, introspective, or having troubled panicky thoughts.

  She moved to his side and sat down. "Todd, talk to me. What’s wrong?"

  Todd reached into his bag, lifted a magazine and tossed it on the coffee table.

  Maria glanced at the magazine and back at Todd. She waited in silence for a time and shrugged. "Aren’t you gonna talk to me?"

  Todd reached for the magazine and held it up so that she could plainly see the cover.

  She gasped, stood and snatched the magazine from Todd’s hand. "That’s me! But…how? Where did you get it?"

  "Gladys gave it to me," Todd said. "President Hatfield gave it to her. Apparently they’re concerned. The magazine is everywhere. They’re calling you the Ricky girl. The whole world is calling you the Ricky girl."

  "But," Maria said stammering, "How could this have happened? No one took my picture. I never saw anyone take my picture…unless—"

  Todd glanced at her. "Unless what?"

  "Unle
ss it was the guy on the mountain that day, do you remember? I told you there was a stranger on the mountain…but why in God’s name would he take a picture?"

  "Because you’re so damned beautiful!" Todd yelled. "Why do you have to be so damned—" He stopped mid-sentence.

  Maria stared at him wide eyed. He had never yelled at her before.

  "I’m sorry," Todd said softly, "it’s just that, we’re in a corner now. We have nowhere to go. Apparently everyone knows the Ricky girl. You’re fantastically famous, especially in Europe. You can be sure the Vinces are plotting ways to reach us. They have to know exactly where we are now."

  "Then we really do have to leave," Maria said.

  Todd sighed again, pulled his hand to his mouth before returning to drum on the table. "President Hatfield told Gladys that this is the only place left for us. He says he has Mums watching this place twenty-four seven. He told her that no one would be allowed access to us and ours."

  "Has anyone tried?" Maria said.

  Todd pulled his hand away from the table and leaned back. "Apparently so. Seems our friend Jim Donahue has asked for an audience with the president."

  Maria slowly pulled her hand to her mouth. "What did…. What did the president say? What… was the president’s answer?"

  "This is the scary part," Todd said. "President Hatfield said Donahue’s intent was to warn us. The president's response was to lock this place down. Thank God he’s with us, Maria, but for how long? The magazine is on the shelves right here in Salt Lake. People are starting to recognize you. I’ve had people stop and ask me if you’re the Ricky girl. I can’t keep lying, I mean, who else has eyes like yours—"

  Todd glanced up to see familiar green eyes staring at him from the hallway.

  Maria turned. "Lylya, did we startle you?"

  "You are…fight," Lylya said softly, "about bed?"

  Maria moved to her and knelt on one knee. "Honey, have you been crying?"

  Lylya’s tear-filled eyes stared silently up at her. Her jaw was set, her posture proud and erect. Maria recognized it. Lylya was firmly standing guard at the door of her world, a place Maria would have to earn admission to have any hope of reaching her.

  She knew where Lylya was. The only person Maria had ever let in her world was Todd, and that had taken a lifetime. She had lived through loneliness and heartache, but this child had survived horrors few people could imagine. Maria was determined to reach her. She wasn’t sure how, but her love would be unconditional. Children are very adaptable, she told herself; maybe it wasn’t too late for this little girl.

  "No, no," Maria said softly. "Mommy and Daddy don’t fight, sweetheart. We’re just talking—"

  The child pulled away interrupting Maria mid-sentence. "You are…not mother!" She turned and disappeared back into her bedroom leaving Maria staring after her.

  Todd stood and silently joined her in the hall. "What was that about?" he asked.

  Maria turned to face him. She put a hand to his chest, sniffed and wiped away a tear. "I’m so stupid," she said finally. "Of course! She has a mother… had a mother, who isn’t me. How could I be so blind? I just thought that, if we could convince her that we…that she is a part of our family, it would somehow make everything all right."

  Todd pulled her towards him and held her. "This is…complicated," he said. "We’re going to do right things and wrong things, but one thing we can’t do is beat ourselves up. We’re not superhuman. We have no experience in this, but no matter what we do, we can’t expect a change in her overnight. We have to give her the space, and years if necessary, to try and make sense of it all. And I should tell you, Gladys thinks there is a good possibility that it will never happen. She may never heal, so for better or for worse, our job is to simply love her, and take her exactly as she is."

  Maria pulled back and looked deep into his eyes. "Do you see…" she paused, wiped another tear from her cheek and softly continued, "why I love you so much?"

  Todd smiled and pulled her back into himself.

  They stood in the hall silently rocking back and forth.

  "What’s this about us fighting over a bed?" Todd said breaking the silence.

  "Oh, I was trying to make a hut under her bed and she didn’t want me under there. She just wants her space—"

  Someone rang the doorbell.

  Todd pulled away from her."I forgot; we have people coming over."

  "Who’s coming over?" Maria said as Todd moved towards the door.

  "Uh… Gladys and Louis and…someone else."

  "Who else?"

  Todd opened the door.

  "Where’s my godson?" Louis demanded.

  Todd smiled. "He’s asleep—and no—we’re not waking him."

  Gladys stepped in behind him. "Very well, where’s my little girl?"

  "Oh she’s—" Todd turned and glanced at Maria. She recognized the ‘help me’ look in his eyes and intervened. "She’s a little… I think she’s taking a nap right now. We sort of…try to…coordinate—"

  Maria’s words were cut off when a large African American man entered the room behind Gladys. He was dressed for business: black suit that did little to cover a muscular physique, white shirt and tie. His glistening shoes caught her attention. She had never seen shoes so shiny; like glass. The term "spit and polish" entered her mind… military man. He stood well over six feet and moved confidently into the room.

  "Won’t you sit down?" Maria said motioning towards the living room lounge chair.

  "Thank you," the man said in a deep baritone.

  He moved to the chair. As he sat, Maria caught the flash of a holstered pistol strapped under his jacket.

  "I love what you’re doing with the place," Gladys said. "Oh look… family pictures. Lylya looks just like you." She quickly glanced around. "I see you’ve completely moved in. Louis has collected his stones and engines and deposited them in my living room, so apparently we’ve moved in as well."

  "The kids want to talk about the picture on the magazine," Louis said.

  Gladys leveled a sour look at her husband. "We’re friends too, you know. It’s not all business between us."

  Louis raised his eyebrows and sighed. "Fine Gladys. The kids' greatest fear has come to pass, so it's only natural that they want to talk about furniture—"

  "You have no social graces," Gladys snapped. "You have no understanding of social graces…oh why do I try?” She motioned towards the man sitting on the lounge chair. "This is Captain Fletcher. He’s going to be head of your security till this thing washes over."

  ~~~

  It hadn’t taken long. Lylya had heard the doorbell and carefully opened her bedroom door just enough to peek out. She had seen the big black man with the gun, and she was certain he had seen her.

  Terror nearly overcame her. She closed the door quietly and stumbled backwards. She must make her escape as quickly as possible, no time to collect supplies from under the bed. She pushed her dresser against the wall and carefully opened her bedroom window.

  Within moments she was outside of the house and running for her life.

  She struck out towards the gully behind the house, but immediately spotted a man in uniform standing guard at the rear of the property. She skidded to a stop just short of colliding with him. He looked down at her.

  She squealed, scrambled to her feet and began running towards the yard’s eastern fence.

  "Hey," the man called out, "little girl!"

  Lylya reached the fence, turned back long enough to spot two other uniformed men standing guard deeper within the gully.

  They seemed to move towards her. She couldn’t be sure. She jumped as high as she could but couldn’t reach the top of the fence. A cry burst from her throat. "Kheda," she sobbed, "help me!" She moved away from the fence, dashed back towards it and jumped with all her strength. This time her fingers found the top of the fence. She pulled frantically, finally lifting herself over the plank, rolled over the fence, fell to the ground and felt something scrape
against her elbow. She ignored the pain and scrambled to her feet, instantly spotting yet another guard. He was watching her, standing on the back side of the fence.

  To her horror she realized the futility of trying to escape. Instinctively she ran to the only enclosure nearby. She yanked the door open and lunged into the tiny building, found a hiding spot behind a tarp and fell sobbing to the ground.

  ~~~

  "What the hell was that about?" Bravo said.

  Another mum standing nearby shook his head."I don’t know… kids playing I guess."

  "No, that wasn’t playing. That kid was scared. Terrified." Bravo stood for a time contemplating. Finally he lifted a military style radio to his mouth and spoke into it.

  "Tango, you copy?"

  ~~~

  Tango, sporting a yellow hard hat, standing within the bucket of a snorkel lift beneath a nearby telephone pole, lifted an identical radio to his face.

  "Go ahead."

  "Everything okay in the house?"

  "Stand by," Tango said. He pulled what looked like a large pair of binoculars to his face and pointed it at the Ricky girl’s house. Glowing, thermal images of five individuals instantly came on line. He slowly scanned around the house. Another tiny image appeared in the back bedroom. He dropped the binoculars and returned the radio to his face.

  "This is Tango… looks peaceful enough… the little girl in the bedroom’s gone…"

  "Yeah," Bravo said. "She just slipped out the window and went by here at a gallop. Can you see the east neighbor’s shed from where you are?"

  "Standby… Yeah, looks like she’s there…hiding or something…kinda’ lying down… I think."

  A short pause before the radio crackled back to life.

  "Bravo out."

  ~~~

  "I appreciate the security," Todd said. "My only worry is trying to explain it away."