by Jack Blaine
“I know, Mr. Thomas.”
“Watch out for him, Driver, if you can?” Thomas’s mouth is set in a grim line. I know he means his father.
“I’ll try, sir.”
The door clicks open. Thomas climbs out and unloads our bags. I lean forward as much as I can with Jobee in his sling on my stomach.
“Thank you, Driver, for this.” It feels strange calling him just Driver—like it’s his baby name, like he’s my friend—but it’s all I have to give him. I want to say more, but I don’t have the words. “Thank you.”
“You watch out for that little one, hear?” The Driver is looking at me in the rear view mirror. I meet his eyes.
“I will.”
“And him, too,” says the Driver, tilting his head toward Thomas.
“I will.” I get out and stand on the curb. Thomas taps the back of the vehicle. It slides off into the night.
Chapter Thirty One
We walk down the empty street to the next block. I recognize it as the one where Deen’s restaurant is, and when I look I see the sign. It’s not flashing tonight. I cradle Jobee in my arms, even though I know he is held securely by the baby sling. He sleeps on, breathing regularly. I know the sleep med was necessary, and I’ve given babies similar meds during my time at the Ward, but it still makes me nervous.
“What would you have done, if I’d said I wasn’t up for this?” I’ve been thinking about what he said to me in the courtyard. About if I didn’t want to be with him.
He stops, and faces me. “I’d have done just what we’re doing now. Except at the end of our trip, I’d have left you, safe where you were, and gone somewhere else.”
“Where would you have gone?”
He tilts his head at me. “Are you having second thoughts?”
I shake my head. “Where would you have gone?”
He shrugs. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”
Thomas looks up and down the street to make sure nobody is observing us. Then he knocks on the door, twice fast, twice slow. After a minute the door opens just a crack, then wider.
“Come on,” says Deen.
We slip inside.
Deen closes the door and leads us down the hall. We pass the door to the room where we ate on our trip to the city. At the end of the hall, Deen opens a different door, and stands aside to let us enter. Inside there is what looks like a complex cube, only larger. There’s a cot on one side of the room, and a dresser. A table with a couple of chairs. There’s a small bathroom off the main room.
“There’s no place to cook, but I laid in some food for you there,” says Deen, pointing to the table. There are covered dishes there and two glasses with a carafe of light wine. “I’ll bring you some breakfast in the morning, too. You’ll need to have energy.”
“Deen, I don’t know how to thank you.” Thomas puts out his hand to shake, but Deen hugs him instead.
“You were good to Gregory, Thomas.”
“He was my brother.”
“Still, many would not have been as good to him as you were.” Deen looks at the floor. “I just wish we had gotten them out in time.”
Thomas is silent. Deen looks at him and seems to realize something.
“You couldn’t have known, Thomas. None of us could have.”
Thomas nods.
“Well.” Deen looks at me. “Have you got all you need for the boy?”
“I think so. Thank you so much for helping us.”
Deen shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Just a room for the night. I wish I could do more for you.” He looks weary. “That,” he points to a dresser drawer that’s been pulled out, “is the best I could do for a crib.”
“It’s fine,” I say. “We shouldn’t keep you.”
“I’ll lock up. In the morning, the cook will be here earlier than me, but he doesn’t have a key to this room. I told him I had friends in from out of town. It should be fine.” He goes to the door, and just that fast, we’re alone.
I sit down on the cot, faster than I mean to sit. Thomas is at my side in a second.
“Are you okay?”
I nod. I felt so dizzy for a minute. I start to unstrap the baby sling. I want to get Jobee settled. Thomas helps me and when Jobee is free he carries him to the dresser drawer. He checks it to see how sturdy it is, and it seems solid. Deen has lined it with a soft blanket. He lays Jobee in the drawer, tenderly, and covers him. Then he goes to the table, and lifts the cover off one of the dishes there.
“Cheese,’ he says, “and some fruit. Come have some. Deen’s right that we’ll need our strength.”
I join him at the table. He pours us both some light wine. A smile flickers on his mouth.
“What?” I smile back at him.
“Remember?” He holds up his glass of wine.
I tilt my head at him.
“Like we’re lovers having a little fight,” he says. “That’s what you said to me the first time we were here, drinking wine.”
I laugh. I do remember.
We both eat some of the cheese. I feel fatigue slipping into my limbs, and I eye the cot longingly.
“Tired?” Thomas eats a grape.
“I am.”
He nods. “It’s been a long day in a series of long days. We should try to get some sleep. You can have the bathroom first.”
When I’m done in the bathroom, I find Thomas asleep in the chair, his head resting on his arms on the table. I touch his shoulder and he jumps.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
He looks around, bleary-eyed. “It’s okay.” He stands up, stretches, and heads for the bathroom. “I’ll be right out. You go ahead and get to sleep if you can.”
I check on Jobee one last time. He hasn’t stirred, and it looks to me like he’ll sleep all night. I walk to the cot and fold back the blanket and slide between the sheets. I’m so tired, but somehow I can’t relax. I turn toward the wall and try to get comfortable. We’re taking such a risk. If we’re caught, it’s the labor camp or worse for Thomas and me, and if that happens, who knows what they’ll do with Jobee.
The bathroom door opens, and Thomas comes out. He turns out the light in the room, and comes over to the cot. I hear him take off his shoes, and then he sits on the edge of the cot, ever so carefully. I can just picture him trying to figure out how to get in bed without waking me, so I take pity on him.
“I’m awake,” I say.
He jumps, again.
“Sorry. I do seem to be scaring you tonight.”
He chuckles. “You’re a scary girl.”
I feel his weight shift as he lies down with his back to mine, and suddenly I feel his body, warm all along the length of mine. I gasp in spite of myself.
“You all right?” Thomas sounds extremely innocent.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Your feet are just cold.”
“Ah. Yes, that floor is chilly. Sorry about that.”
There’s silence. Thomas’s breathing becomes slower and more regular. I feel him relax against me.
He’s asleep. Despite my fatigue, I really don’t want him to be asleep right now. I heave a sigh.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
He’s not asleep.
“Yes,” I whisper. I bite my lip, hoping he’ll touch me.
Thomas rolls over to face me. He slips an arm around my waist and pulls me toward him. “You must be so tired,” he whispers in my ear.
“I am,” I breathe, but I don’t feel tired anymore. Every inch of my body feels alive; each time his hand brushes against me at the waist, or the hip, or the thigh, it sends a shudder through me.
“Do you think you can sleep?” he asks, and I can hear the smile in his voice. I try to answer, but he covers my mouth with his. I feel his tongue against my lips, gently opening them, licking them softly. I moan.
“I want to taste some other places, too,” he whispers, and then, he does.
I sleep very well. Later.
Chapter Thirty Two
I turn that thought over in my head. Are we playing? I look at Thomas, helping Deen set dishes on the table. If we are, this is a dangerous game.
“I don’t think it will too much of a problem.” Deen is shaking his head about something.
Thomas looks dubious.
“I can’t ask you to do that, Deen. It’s too risky. We’ll take one of the public trams.”
“What if they’re already looking for you?”
“Right now, they’re both sleeping, and they won’t wake until late. Helper knows better than to wake them after they’ve been to a party, and Driver certainly won’t. I told Helper I was going out last night, so she won’t be looking for me at breakfast. The only one who should be up and about is Benna, and there’s a note on her door that says Jobee was sick all night.”
Deen looks doubtful. Thomas smiles at him and touches his shoulder.
“You’ve done enough, Deen. Let’s make sure you get out of this with your skin.”
“What are we discussing?” I get one of Jobee’s boggles and hold it up for him. He giggles at it.
“How we get to the pier from here.” Thomas gestures for me to sit down at the table. He takes the boggle and then Jobee, and set a plate of soy links in front of me. “Deen wants to take us, but I think we’ll be safe in a tram. Nobody knows we’re gone, yet.” He wiggles the boggle in front of Jobee, who reaches out with glee to try to grab it.
“I have to agree with Thomas,” I say. “We can’t ask you to do more than you’ve done.”
“I just want to know that you’re safe on that ship.” Deen looks worried. “I would have taken Greg and Rob.”
“They wouldn’t have let you, either.” Thomas twirls Jobee around.
Deen nods. “You’re probably right.” He snaps his fingers. “Oh! I forgot. I wanted to give you some things I had ready for the boys. I’ll be right back.”
When he’s gone, I try to eat some of the soy links, but I can’t. I’m worried, more worried then I want Thomas to know.
“How far is it to the pier from here?”
Thomas sits down in the other chair. He lets Jobee hold one of the soy links. “It’s probably half an hour by tram. Nothing too bad.” He looks at my plate. “You’re not hungry?”
I shake my head.
“You’re scared.” He rocks Jobee.
“Yes.”
“Me, too.” He takes the mutilated soy link from Jobee and wipes his hands and face. Then he gives him a boggle toy. “We have to believe we’ll get through, Benna.”
I sit up straight. “Thomas,” I say.
“Yes Benna?” He smiles at me, ready to joke.
“I’m serious!”
“Oh.” He makes a face. “Is this serious enough?”
I am not amused. “Listen,” I say.
He looks into my eyes, the way he does when he’s checking to see what I’m thinking. “Okay.”
“If we do this—”
“If?” He sits back in his chair, holding Jobee easily with one arm.
I hold up my hand. “Let me finish, okay?”
He doesn’t look happy, but he nods.
“If we do this, I need to know that you’re not doing it for me.”
He stares at me. “Of course I’m doing it for you.”
It’s what I was afraid of. I start to shake my head.
“No.” He stands up, and walks to the far side of the room. “No, Benna.”
“No, what?” I feel like crying. I can’t let Thomas take this sort of risk. “Maybe Jobee and I can just go—”
“No, Benna!” He roars the words. Jobee looks up at him, shocked, and starts to wail.
“Oh. Oh, oh oh, Jobee, no.” Thomas rocks Jobee back and forth, crooning his name. He rubs his feet, soft like Jobee likes it. Jobee stops wailing and stares at Thomas, as though something happened that he doesn’t understand. Like something came and took Thomas, and then it brought him back.
“It’s okay, Jobee.” Thomas lays Jobee in the dresser drawer and lets him have his boggle. Jobee is happy again.
Thomas isn’t. He scrubs his hair with his hands, and it looks like he’s ready to rip it out. He paces back and forth in front of me, back and forth. He takes deep breaths. Finally, he comes to the table. He sits down in the chair.
“I scared Jobee,” he says.
“I saw that.”
“We can’t keep doing this.” He says.
I start to talk, but it’s his turn to hold up his hand. “Benna, I love you. And I am doing this for you. Because it’s wrong, what’s happened to you. It’s wrong that you can’t read, because someone’s decided you only need to read certain things. It’s wrong that you can’t draw, if you want to draw.” He scrubs at his hair again, messing it up even more. “It’s wrong that someone decided that you can’t have babies.
“But Benna,” he leans forward almost touching me across the table. “I’m doing this for me, too. Because just like it was wrong that Greg couldn’t be with who he wanted to love, it’s wrong, Benna, that I can’t be with you. It’s wrong that I can’t walk down the street, holding your hand, and say I love this girl. Say it to the world.
“I’m doing this for you, and for me, and for Jobee. And that has to be okay with you, Benna. You have to start trusting me, or we won’t make it.”
We’re interrupted by a knock on the door. Thomas gets up and opens it.
“I’ve been saving this stuff up,” says Deen. He holds out a small box.
“What is it?” Thomas takes it.
“It’s reader chips. Loads of them, maps, some of them, of the parts of Tongal that aren’t inhabited, or at least not by civilized folk.” Deen sees the look Thomas gives him.
“I know, I know. What’s civilized?”
“Where did you get these?”
“I traded for some of the maps, down at the pier, when I knew our boys were going to go. And the rest was Greg and Rob—they did all sorts of research under their false names, so nobody could trace the PIC files they pulled. There’s some Tongalise language and culture information, and the extradition treaties. They don’t have one with us, so it looks like you’re safe. And I got the baby stuff you wanted, too. From age one on up through to a man.”
I watched Thomas, but he didn’t glance at me.
“Thanks, Deen. We’re going to need that, all of it.” He puts the box in the bag that has my drawing materials in it.
“There’s one more thing.” Deen slips a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. It’s got a strange symbol stamped on the outside of it, and a clear, adhesive seal over the flap. “You’ll need this when you get there. Don’t lose it. I was supposed to give it to Greg and Rob, but. . . well, it was a gift, from someone you know.”
Thomas waits, but Deen doesn’t say anymore.
Finally, Thomas shrugs and puts the paper in his own pocket.
“Do you know what time the tram we need will leave?”
Deen nodded. “You’ve got about twenty minutes. It stops right out on the corner.”
“We’d better get going then.” Thomas walked Deen to the door. “I’ll see you out front?”
Deen nodded, and hugged Thomas again. Then he left.
“You had him get me baby information?”
“I had him get us baby information.” Thomas doesn‘t look up from his packing.
I go to him. “Thomas.” I wait for him to look at me.
“I’ve been afraid. And foolish. And selfish.” I look into his eyes, hoping he understands what I’m trying to say.
He meets my gaze. He raises his eyebrows. “Go on,” he says.
I’ve completely destroyed us. Any trust he h
ad in me is broken, because I was too bullheaded to put my trust in him. I—
Thomas is shaking. I want to go to him, and wrap my arms around him and tell him how sorry I am that I’ve hurt him.
Until I see that he’s shaking with laughter.
“You!” My mouth falls open. I run to the cot and grab the pillow and start hitting him as hard as I can with it. He fights me off, still laughing, and we end up in a heap on the floor.
“You deserved that,” he says, as soon as he’s caught his breath.
“I did,” I agree. I sit up so I can see him properly. “I really do mean it, Thomas. I have been foolish. I know what you’re saying, about trusting you, about trusting us.”
“Do you, Benna?”
“I do.” I don’t know if I can explain it so he’ll understand. “It’s just so foreign, Thomas. I was raised by strangers, and trained by strangers, and I lived among strangers. I had sex with strangers, Thomas, and that was normal. We weren’t supposed to feel anything for each other. We weren’t allowed to feel anything. And even though I did—I felt things for people, Thomas, for the babies, and for my friend, Kris—I knew that I wasn’t supposed to feel. And I knew, with everyone but the babies, that feeling could be treacherous. I knew that any time, the only friend I had might turn me in, if she caught me drawing. She would do it out of fear. But she would do it.
“That sort of life, that doesn’t let you trust people Thomas. I have to learn. And I can learn. I will learn, with you, if you’ll still let me.”
Thomas watches me while I talk. When I stop, he is quiet. He looks at his hands.
“Benna.” He looks back up at me. “I think we’ll be learning together. I think I have as much to learn as you do. Just about different things.” He stands up, and helps me up from the floor. “We’ll do it together Benna.”
I believe him.
Chapter Thirty Three
We scramble, getting dressed, getting last-minute packing done, getting Jobee ready. In fifteen minutes we’re walking down the hall toward the front door.
Deen meets us there. He looks upset.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas looks worried.
“No,” Deen shakes his head. “It’s okay.” He pulls a cloth out of his pocket and blows his nose, long and hard. “I just don’t want to see you go. You’re the only thing left that reminds me of Greg. And of Rob.”
