Liberated

by Abi Ketner

  “We thought it was only fitting to give our Zeus a final goodbye,” Cole says. His voice breaks, and tears drop from his eyes. Alyssa tugs on him, and he picks her up, his strong arm surrounding her tiny figure. “Who wants to go first?”

  “That’d be me,” Bill says, placing his hands in his pockets. “Zeus, I’m not gonna lie. We had a rocky start. First you tried to eat me, or maybe tear me apart. Either way, our introduction wasn’t pretty.” I chuckle, remembering the first time Zeus almost pounced on Bill in the underground tunnel. “I must admit none of us would be here if it weren’t for your intimidating growl, your agility—”

  “Dang, Bill,” Bruno laughs. “Agility? Pretty big word for you. I’m impressed.”

  “Smart ass,” Bill replies. “Now shut your mouth and let me say what I gotta say.”

  “My bad,” Bruno says.

  “Hmm. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, we’re only alive today because of your AGILITY, love, trust, forgiving heart, and badass guard skills. I will never understand how you were able to sense if someone was trustworthy or not. For that, you’ll always be my hero.” Bill wipes his eyes and sniffs. “I’m sure I’ll be the next one here to bite the dust. So if you wouldn’t mind hanging with me. Keep your eyes and ears open for me. Until we see each other again, have a doggy treat on me.” He places a bone on top of the box.

  Next to him, Bruno clears his throat.

  “Zeus, you crazy, lovable, insane pup—you are as much a part of our family as any person. I’m forever thankful for the times you saved our lives and cared about those around you. Whether it was a dreaded whap of your tail or your slobbering kisses, you had a way of making me laugh and keeping things light.” We smile a little, letting Bruno’s words sink in. “And especially when I lost my Grace, you gave me comfort in a way no person could.” His voice breaks, and Ayo squeezes his arm, as if to urge him on. “If only people had hearts as good as yours, we’d have a much better world.” He bends down, putting his old guard jacket on Zeus’s box. “So you don’t forget my smell.”

  By now, Cole’s crying like a baby while Alyssa rubs his head and kisses his face. “Your turn, Mommy.”

  My heart breaks, my feet weighted to the ground as I think about the first time I met Zeus in Cole’s room. Zeus scared the crap out of me, because I’d never seen a dog so big before. But somehow, we became inseparable. And now, saying goodbye is too much. Cole shakes his head, not ready yet, so I take a deep breath and proceed.

  “Zeus, my best buddy in the whole world. I’ll never forget waking up and seeing your face for the first time. You nearly gave me a heart attack. And how about the day you bolted into my room because your own fart scared you? That was a memorable moment.” Even Cole laughs at the memory.

  “For real?” Bill asks.

  “Yeah, it was hilarious,” I tell him.

  “I wish I’d seen that.”

  “Anyway,” I continue, “Zeus, no matter what, I knew I could count on you. Thank you for protecting me and continuously saving my life over and over again. You always knew when I was crying, lost, or in pain, and your presence alone helped me pull through. I’m going to miss you squashing me, cuddling me, and even kissing me.” I stop to compose myself, because my lungs are burning. “You helped me work through my PTSD, and you brought Cole and I together. It was only through you that I saw the softer, more human side of Cole, and it’s because of you that we’re together now. You gave me hope when it seemed like all people were evil. You were always kind to those who needed it, and loyal in the fiercest way. I’m lucky …” My voice breaks. “We were blessed you chose to spend your years with us. I’d give anything to have more time together, but you stayed as long as your heart would allow you. I miss you so much I can’t stand it.”

  Now, I can’t stop my tears from flowing and my hands from shaking. “I love you so much, always and forever. Please watch over us until we’re together again.” I cry hard as I lean over his resting box and place his camouflage collar on top of it.

  Alyssa drops down from Cole’s arms and tightens her grip around my legs. I pat her head and kiss her hair. She’ll never know the desperation, the pain, and the hunger we lived through. She’ll never know how much Zeus carried us just by being himself. One day, I plan on explaining it to her so she knows in full. But not for a long time. I glance at Cole, then take his hand in mine. His shoulders shake, and his red-rimmed eyes are full of agony. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He sucks in air and then straightens his shoulders.

  “When they assigned you to me, I was pretty pissed because I thought you’d only be a nuisance,” Cole says. “As a pup, you were so gangly and awkward that I couldn’t picture you as a threat. Except for the times you ripped ass.” We all laugh through our tears. “But as you grew, damn did you grow on me. Throughout our training, you became my best friend. We developed an unbroken bond, a trust, and I realized that the saying about dog being man’s best friend is true. Because, Zeus, you encompassed all the things I wanted to see in myself. You were loyal, tough, a good judge of character, caring, and funny.” Cole swallows hard. “I think I learned more from you than you did from me.”

  He pauses, and his lip trembles. “There will always be”—his voice cracks—“an empty place in my heart for you. An empty spot at the table. An empty place by the back door, where you begged to go out and play. A larger-than-life void because of all the joy and stability you brought into my otherwise unstable life. Thank you for protecting Lexi, my friends, and Alyssa when I couldn’t. It’s a debt I’ll never be able to repay.” He stops to gather himself again, tears filling his eyes, and I squeeze his hand. “I’ll never, ever forget you, buddy, and everything you did for us. I love you.” Cole leans down, and at first, I can’t see what he places on Zeus’s casket. Then he stands back up, and the sunlight casts a glare off his gift.

  “Daddy, it’s your medal,” Alyssa says. She looks up at Cole with wide eyes, and he gives her a weak smile.

  The medal, with dark-blue ribbon and the five points for bravery, strength, loyalty, training, and perseverance, winks at us in the light. My chest constricts. Cole was presented the medal three years after the United Powers took over. He had been cleared soon after they came, but it wasn’t until later that details of his role in the revolt came out. Mine hangs on the wall in my art room, but he’s never displayed his.

  “No one deserves it more than him,” Cole says. The others nod in agreement.

  Then, with tears lining our cheeks and mournful spirits, we begin tossing dirt over Zeus’s resting place. Everyone helps, including Alyssa. She grabs her plastic yellow shovel and scoops dirt, even helping to pat the top down when it’s finished. We take turns embracing each other, our sobs and laughter mixed together, as always.

  It’s not just about Zeus. It’s about the times we spent in darkness and the last five years we’ve spent crawling out. It’s about the bond forged through fire that has sustained us all throughout the years. It’s about the nightmares we share in common, the struggles of adjusting to civilian life, the fight to give our children some sort of normalcy, and the hope that someday, our suffering will have made a difference. It’s in times like these, with dear friends, that even as we grieve, I’m reminded we’re alive and we can have hope for the future after all. Just like that, the clouds let loose, and the rain starts coming down.

  “Mama, maybe that’s Zeus crying. I bet he misses us,” Alyssa says.

  I take her hand and kiss it. “I bet you’re right.”

  “Shall we head inside?” Cole asks. His grief hasn’t subsided, but he appears hopeful.

  “Hell yes,” Bruno replies. “I wanna see the house.” Ayo smacks his arm, and he covers his mouth again, remembering Alyssa.

  “Will you guys stay for dinner?” I ask as we head toward the house. “I’ll put something in the oven. Sound good?”

  “Mmmm, a Lusty meal,” Bill says while rubbing his stomach. Then he looks at me. “Should I be afraid
?”

  “Very,” I say.

  “I’ll help if you’d like?” Ayo says.

  “I’d appreciate that,” I say. “Thank you.”

  We meander toward the back door, and just before heading inside, I look back. The sun is setting behind the hills, casting magnificent rays of gold, pink, and fiery orange across the sky. One last ray lands right on top of Zeus’s gravesite, and I can’t help smiling. Through the rainy clouds comes a rainbow.

  “Cole!” I call. “Oh my gosh, look!”

  He turns around and smiles.

  “He made it, Mommy,” Alyssa says, full of awe. “To the rainbow bridge.” I look down at her, and my heart fills with so much love.

  “He sure did, baby, he sure did.” Then I look up toward heaven and whisper, “Thank you.” Because now we know for sure that Zeus is okay.

  Ten Years Later

  The United Powers has all but left our country after finishing a decade of hard work. The new government held their first free elections three years ago, and our economy continues to recover slowly. The roads and railways are constantly under construction, the prison system has been rebooted, and jobs have been created for everyone, giving them a chance to earn an honest living. Those who were educated have begun teaching again. Colleges and universities are being built throughout the country. They’re small, but it’s a start. Those in the military can serve an honorable term, although still limited by law in its size and capabilities.

  Yet, it’s still common to see citizens with brands, and I’m glad for that, because it’s a daily reminder of who we are, what we’ve endured, and what we sacrificed to make it out alive. Even after being offered the option of removing mine, I chose to keep it. Whereas before I felt ashamed, now I feel pride wearing it.

  The vaccine has been successful. Only a few cases of the virus have been reported since it was distributed. Even today, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around everything that happened, but now I’m able to admit the risk my parents took with me was worth it … My blood saved lives. Before, I used to think about what would’ve happened had I died. What if the virus had killed me or didn’t work? My mother took a chance on losing me and didn’t blink an eye. But, a few years ago, I decided I didn’t want to live the rest of my life questioning her or trying to understand her. I found a way to move on. Hell, it wasn’t easy … but I realized my husband and children come first. So, like a feather shed from a bird, I opened my hand and let the wind whisk that pain away.

  The museum’s full of artifacts from the Hole. After walking around the depressing building, I thought it needed something more. So, a few years ago, I went to the owner and told him my idea. A month later, he called and gave me the green light.

  I glance around the room where my artwork, mixed with others, is mounted on the walls. Paintings of mine, letters, poems, and photos of the Hole memorialize the lives of those lost there and keep our history alive so we never forget. Large, black cursive letters in the middle of the entranceway read: The Remembrance Room.

  I stop in front of a black-and-white photograph taken by one of the guards and found in one of the files at the Commander’s headquarters. It shows the stark front entrance to the Hole. Above the gate, guards stand at their posts with guns ready. To the right is the Commander’s headquarters. Cole rests his hand on my shoulder, and we both stare at it, somber and quiet for a moment.

  “It’s incredible,” he says in a low voice. “I’m so damn proud of you.”

  “Thank you.” I get on my tiptoes and kiss him.

  “But I have to be honest,” he says. “There are a few things I’d like to burn.”

  “Such as the paintings of Wilson and the Commander?” I ask.

  “No. Those I want to shoot,” he replies. I laugh and pull his head down to mine.

  “Well, don’t worry,” I whisper in his ear. “Do you see … the reddish orange background?” I point to the portraits, and he gives me a look that implies, I’m not blind. “That right there represents the flames of hell. So, I got my revenge in a way.”

  He brings me in for a hug and says, “Only you.”

  “On the bright side, it’s one way we can make sure the legacy lives on and that history never repeats itself.”

  He takes my hands, our eyes meeting. His hands squeeze mine, and he kisses my forehead like he always does.

  Just then, there’s a stir at the entrance. My dad gasps when he steps inside the room. His eyes tear up as his gaze wanders over the artwork and writings. A smile forms on my face as he takes it in.

  “Mommy!” Joshua shouts as he runs down the stairs, taking a few at a time. When he reaches me, he jumps into my arms.

  “You’re such a daredevil,” I tell him. “You do know that, right?”

  “No, Mommy, I’m a superhero! Just wait till you see me fly,” he says with excitement.

  “Did you miss me?” I ask, putting him back on the ground and kissing him.

  “Yeah, but Grandpa took us to the beach!” I glance at my dad, and he smiles, but he’s too enamored with the artwork to talk. “Grandpa got us ice cream and French fries and—”

  “In other words, he spoiled you rotten, didn’t he?” Joshua giggles and hugs me again, pushing his little fingers through my hair. “And now you’re high on sugar.”

  “It was great until Joshua threw sand on me,” Alyssa interrupts. I raise my eyebrows at Joshua, and he bats his eyelashes at me. “There’s still some stuck in my hair.”

  “Joshua Cole, I really hope you didn’t do that,” I say.

  Alyssa rolls her eyes in her ten-year-old way and then flips her curly hair over her shoulder. She squeals when Cole grabs her off her feet and hugs her.

  “Daddy!” she says, part exasperation and part laughter. “I can’t breathe.”

  Behind them, a young man enters quietly with two older adults, whose faces are frozen in my memory. The boy stops and stares at a large chunk of cement from the Rainbow District that stands behind protective glass. On it, some of the original painting remains, bold and intimidating. He presses his lips together, and it makes me go quiet. Unlike my children, he’s old enough to remember the Hole. Then it hits me …

  “Owen?” I ask in shock. He turns to face me, a teary smile crossing his face. He stretches out his arms, and I grab him and wrap my arms around him. Cole bear-hugs him next, laughter and tears overflowing. Owen’s uncle places a hand on his shoulder, and Owen glances at his relatives affectionately.

  “We heard about the grand opening,” his aunt says. “I hope we’re not intruding.”

  “Definitely not. I’m so glad you came,” I say. “Writing is never as good as seeing you all in person!” I hug him again and then release him as he wanders closer to the artwork. We’ve written over the years, keeping in touch like his aunt and uncle promised in the Hole. He lost his parents to the unnecessary violence. I’ve only talked to him about them a few times, but the last time was when he told me he loves his aunt and uncle and he’s doing all right.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask, standing quietly beside him to examine the piece he seems captured by.

  “I remember it,” he says in a deep, solemn voice. “Like it was yesterday.”

  “If it’s too much for you, I won’t be offended if you want to leave.”

  “No, I’m fine, just brings up bad memories,” he says.

  “You’re not the only one.” I wrap my arm around his waist. At twenty, he’s a foot taller than me.

  “Lexi, this painting of Zeus is gorgeous,” my dad says from down the hallway. “You captured him perfectly.” By now, my family’s spread out, each looking at different pieces of the Hole.

  “Thank you. It was pretty hard to get his eyes just right, but I’m hoping I did.”

  “It’s perfect,” Cole says, clearing his throat and taking my hand in his.

  My dad stands in front of the next portrait with his hands on his hips. “Is this Alyssa?”

  “Me?” Alyssa asks. She walks ove
r to where he stands and looks at the painting. “Uhhh, Grandpa … are you okay?”

  “Her name is Alyssa, but she was my friend, sweetie,” I tell her. “When you were born and I looked at you, I saw her in you.” I take in the painting that used to be in my old quarters. I was just as shocked as Cole that it had survived everything. We had to very carefully research how to have it removed from my old building in the Hole and transported to the museum in High Society. Glancing at it now, the effort was worth it.

  “What a beautiful little girl,” my father says.

  “She really was, Dad. And such a good soul.”

  “Her hair’s blond,” Alyssa says.

  “Yes, very. And big, kind, blue eyes.”

  “Mom, we look nothing alike,” Alyssa says.

  I smile and touch her shoulder. “That’s not why we named you after her. When I held you, your expression instantly reminded me of her. Your dad said the same thing.”

  “You knew her?” Alyssa asks Cole.

  “I did. And she changed my life,” he says. “Because of her, I realized I was in love with your mom, and there wasn’t anything I could do, no matter how hard I tried, to change how I felt.”

  “Gosh, I wish she was here, so you could meet her,” I say to my Alyssa. “But I see her in you now more than ever. She was caring and sweet and loved life … a lot like you.” My daughter’s face lights up, and she smiles, her turquoise eyes beaming in a way I could’ve only dreamt years ago.

  “How did she die?”

  “The virus,” I tell her. “But Sutton was able to keep her comfortable, and her passing was peaceful. I held her until the end.” Alyssa nods, a solemn expression crossing her face.