“It’s okay,” her mother rubs her arm. “It’ll be okay.”
*******
Safia gets Olivia and her bear tucked under the yellow comforter for a nap then joins everyone in the living room. She sinks into an overstuffed leather chair, dark brown and soft as butter. It felt good to be home. He mother hands her a cup of tea in a thick white cup with a cinnamon stick.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Anders was just asking about the Sylvia Banner plaque on the front door.” She turns her attention back to him. “So, anyway, after Hurricane Octavio hit the Island, the estate holders of this place didn’t want to put the money into repairing the extensive flood damage. Most of the original items were destroyed. I just couldn’t let them tear it down and so we decided to buy it. It took three years for us to restore.”
“Great history,” he says. “Must be nice to live in a place with so much meaning.”
“It’s got more meaning to me than you know.” She smiles. “But that’s a story for another day. We’re happy here,” Sarah turns to her daughter. “So, how’s she doing?”
“I don’t know,” Safia answers. “She hasn’t said a word since I told her about her mother.”
“Poor thing’s probably in shock.”
“She doesn’t cry, you know.”Her parents and Anders stare at her. She tucks her feet up underneath her, settling in. “I mean, she does feel emotion, sadness and all, but Sue told me she doesn’t physically cry…no tears.”
“Oh,” her dad sighs. “I suppose there are things that are bound to be different about her.”
“She has beautiful eyes.”
Safia nods at her mom. “Haunting.” Suddenly she turns to Anders, who is seated on the couch by her dad. “We should go back to the house, try to get some of her things. Pictures of Sue and her father at least.”
“The police will probably have the place taped off for awhile.”
“Looks that way. It’s been all over the news.”
“Dad, turn on CBN.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you should just relax today. Regroup.”
“I need to know if they caught that guy and what they’re saying about Olivia, if they’re looking for her.”
Reluctantly, he turns on the TV.
They wait through a few commercials, then the familiar music and the familiar face of CBN’s news anchor.
“And now back to our main story. The discovery of a fourteen year old human-bonobo chimera living among us has sent shockwaves around the world. A campaign has been initiated by an international coalition to urge the World Health Organization to recommend a universal ban on the creation of human-chimera embryos. In a recent report, forty-eight countries have come out in support for banning the transfer of such embryos into the uterus of a human or an animal, and many of these countries such as Canada and Japan already have such laws in place. But, only eight countries so far support a full ban on creating chimera embryos. Countries such as the United States, Germany and France feel a full ban would obstruct scientific freedom.
“The coalition has set up a website, www.banhumanchimeras.org, where concerned world citizens can write to the WHO Director General or to their countries representatives. They are urging people of all countries to get involved, saying this is not a scientific issue or a United States issue, but an issue that deals with the future of the human race. A debate on the ban is expected to take place at the World Health Assembly in Geneva later this year.”
“Well, for me, this is a little girl issue,” Safia says protectively.
“Maybe people will concentrate on the issue of chimeras instead of Olivia,” her mother says. “What’s done is done, right?”
“What’s done is done, but it’s no where near over,” Anders answers.
“She’ll be okay,” her mother whispers, nodding at Safia.
“Yeah, she’ll be okay,” Safia repeats, trying to convince herself.
“In related news, police now know the identity of the man involved in the death of Sue Barnes, the mother of the chimera child Olivia Barnes. He was forty-two year old Sebastian Moreno.”
“Was?” Safia says, confused.
“His body was identified by his daughter, Emily Lopez. Mrs. Lopez has also confirmed for police that her father was involved with the group, Animal Rights Now. She said her father was furious with the group for their involvement in creating the half-human child, considering the child an abomination. She believes her father went there to kill the child, to “keep the devil from triumphing” were his words. Mr. Moreno apparently suffered severe head injuries when he crashed the car through the Barnes’ home.”
“But…” she is staring at Anders, but she is seeing the man, Sebastian Moreno, glaring at her from behind the cracked windshield, very much alive. Suddenly, Anders turns to meet her stare and she feels the color drain from her face. His is not shocked the man is dead. He is not pretending to be shocked either. He looks back at the TV without a word.
“Police are still searching for the child and an unidentified man that may have taken her from the home. Witnesses have told police a man, who had just lost control of his own car in front of the Barnes’ home, jumped in one of the press trucks and took off after Mr. Moreno. By the time police arrived, there was no sign of this mystery man or the child. Police are asking anyone with information to call immediately.” A flashing number begins to scroll across the screen.
Her dad clicks off the TV. “So, that mystery man would be you, Anders?”
“I suppose so,” he answers, but he is looking at Safia.
She is glaring back at him, stirring her tea relentlessly.
“Thank god you were there,” Sarah adds. “Who knows what would have happened to Olivia, and my daughter for that matter.”
“Can I speak to you outside,” Safia says coldly. She ignores her parent’s confused glances.
Anders nods and rises.
“Walk with me,” she instructs, walking back onto the drive and then turning left onto the road. The sun is already baking the pavement. Anders walks silently beside her for a few blocks. She kicks a stone, waiting for her heartbeat to settle down before she speaks. “That man was alive when I left the house.”
“Is that a question?”
She glances at him sharply, kicking another stone. “No, Anders, that is a fact. God, this isn’t a game. You killed that man!”
He stops and turns to face her. “Of course I know this isn’t a game. This is about as serious as life gets. Now, do you really want me to address your accusation?”
Safia sees some kind of warning in his expression. She feels herself pull back defensively. “You have made me an accessory to murder, Anders.”
“Life is not that black and white, Safia. People are sentenced to death for their crimes all the time.”
“By a court of law.”
“Which is fallible. Besides, you aren’t a witness or an accessory. You weren’t there.”
Safia throws up her hands and starts walking again. She is shaking her head.“Look, I don’t know all the things you’ve done in your life,” she says when Anderscatches up to her. “Hell, I don’t even know if you’ve killed anyone before. But, while we’re together,” she stumbles, feeling her face flush, “I mean, protecting Olivia together, could you please refrain from your vigilante, lawbreaking tendencies.”
“Well, okay,” A note of amusement has softened his tone. “You mean like public nudity?”
Safia stops, her eyes still on the road, her mouth tightening. “That was different. I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“No, on the contrary.”
“Funny,” she throws at him before walking away.
“You still broke the law, though. Women are stoned to death for less in other parts of the world,” he adds as he moves easily next to her. “Lots of gray area in life, isn’t there?”
“Not when it comes to murder,” she answers hotly. “You can’t just take someone’s life. That’s something you can ne
ver give back.”
“Perspective, Safia. I was saving a life. I knew Sebastian. He came from a different culture, one with different ideas about life and death. He wouldn’t have stopped coming after Olivia.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“You know what. You’re right.” He stops. “Believe what you want. But, know this. He isn’t the last one that will want her dead. There are people out there…” He bows his head, frustrated. “This is a violent world, Safia, and that violence is fed by fear. She isn’t safe. Not by a long shot. Let’s just concentrate on that, okay?”
A dog is barking in the fenced yard beside them. Her thoughts are drifting, melting in sun beating down on her head. Before she met Olivia and Sue and Anders her life was black and white. It was safe. Secure. Now, she didn’t even know who she was anymore, what she was capable of, how far she would go to protect this one child. Now she knows a murder has been committed. Now she knows that she is not above letting such a heinous crime slide. She feels like a hypocrite, an accessory. No one should know this about themselves.
A noise that sounds like a moan wells up in her throat. This noise makes her words sound small, even though she feels like she’s screaming. “When will she be safe, Anders? When she is declared human by some court of law? Will people leave her alone then? Stop fearing her?”
He is staring at her, his bottom lip crushed in his teeth. He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm and shakes his head, “I don’t know.”
“Great.”
She throws up her arms, turns from him and wills her feet to move her back to the house.
Chapter 24
“Have you seen that man before?”
Safia and her mother both peer over the rack of cheap t-shirts at the man leaning against the wall by the front door, his face hidden in shadows by a ball cap.
“No,” Sarah answers. “I haven’t. But, Anders,” she stuffs a shirt back onto the rack and glances at Olivia. “This is a huge tourist town in the middle of tourist season. There’s going to be lots of strangers here.”
“Right.”He moves slowly away, toward the man by the door.
Safia and her mother share a worried glance.
“Is he all right?” her mother whispers. “Not mentally ill or anything, is he?”
Safia cracks a smile. “Well, the paranoia is warranted, if that’s what you mean,” she whispers back. “As far as other mental issues, I wonder sometimes.”
“Hmm,” she peers around Safia at Olivia and clears her throat. “Olivia, sweetie, will you check that rack behind you and see if there’s anything you like there?”
Olivia moves away from Safia reluctantly and starts sorting through some bright pink and green shirts.
“So,” she continues, still keeping her voice low. “He still believes she is in danger?”
“Yes, and unfortunately I have to agree with him.”
They watch a woman step into the shop and smile at the man leaning by the door. He slides his arm around her and they walk out together. Anders moves to watch them through the glass and, satisfied, seems to relax for a moment.
“So, what’s the deal with you two?”
“There is no deal, Mom. He’s just protecting Olivia.”
“Don’t get defensive. I just mean, well he is very handsome and there seems to be a lot of tension between you. Are you two fighting?”
“No,” she lies. “It’s just the whole situation is tense.”
“Aha,” she pulls out a shirt with a pink sparkly dolphin. “This is cute. Olivia, do you like this one?” Olivia peeks around and nods half-heartedly.
“You know,” Sarah says, draping the shirt over her arm. “He reminds me of Uncle Hagen.”
“So, you think Uncle Hagen is mentally ill?” she teases.
“No,” her tone changes, sinks into a deeper level of candor. “I think his past is full of dark and dangerous things.”
Safia raises her eyes and finds Anders standing in a corner, arms crossed, eyes locked on the front door. “Have you been talking to Kat?” she asks.
“Well, she was worried and did call this morning when she couldn’t get a hold of you.”
“Oh,” Safia nods, irritation pulling at one corner of her mouth. “That explains the twenty questions. She is unbelievable! There is nothing going on between me and Anders, besides her over-active imagination.”
Her mother holds up a hand as if to ward off the blame. “She had already guessed you were here with Olivia…and Anders. I didn’t tell her anything.” She moves to Safia’s side, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Give your sister a break, Safia. You know she’s always been jealous of you…of the things you and I share. She got the bad end of the bargain…the darkness, the depression, the insecurity. You can’t fault her for that.”
What she wants to say is she can still choose how she deals with it, she doesn’t have to try and wreck everything Safia could possibly be happy about. Instead she just sighs and flashes her mother a defeated smile.
“Fine, but if Kat figured out so easily where we were, it’s only a matter of time before they find her. I better call work today, see what everyone is saying.”
After a few moments more of searching through a rack of swim suits, Safia hears her mother calling her. “Um, Safia?”Her mother is standing, staring at the TV screen behind the counter. Safia rushes over.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Maggie, turn that up, will ya?”
The lady behind the counter nods and, as she rings up the shirts they have picked out, Safia watches in horror as Olivia’s distorted face fills the screen.
“There have been sightings of the chimpanzee child in three different states. We’ve gotten a report from a young mother in Georgia that something matching Olivia Barnes’ description attacked her toddler as he was playing in the front yard.” A woman in a tank top and black ponytail is holding a crying toddler. She is showing the camera a fresh red mark on the side of the child’s neck and then pointing down the street. “I saw her run that way after I scared her outa my yard.”
“Turn it off,” Anders says evenly.
They all turn and look at him, but Maggie does turn it off.
“Everybody is going to want their fifteen minutes,” he says. “Don’t let Olivia see it.”
*******
Safia sits in a lawn chair under the shade of a large umbrella, her toes pushed into the hot sand, her eyes locked on Olivia. She tried to get Olivia to play in the water but gave up after Olivia squeezed her arm so hard, she left bruises. Instead, she is playing at the edge of the wet sand, meticulously constructing a sandcastle with a single plastic bucket.From this distance, she looks like any other young girl playing on the beach in a new blue swimsuit and Panama Jack straw hat. She waves.
Anders sits beside her. She can see his head move back and forth once in awhile, scanning, but the beach is empty. Thanks to her mom’s friend and her private beach access, they are miles away from the campers and crowds.
She is holding her cell phone, waiting for a return call from Rita. Before, she had given in and skimmed the news headlines for stories about Olivia. One was about Sue’s funeral, which will be held tomorrow.
“I would like to go.” Her voice is small against the sounds of breaking waves and incessant gulls. She looks over at Anders and realizes she hasn’t said where. “To the funeral. Sue’s funeral,” she adds.
He thinks for a moment, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. “You would have to go alone. Olivia shouldn’t go. I’ll have to stay with her. They’ll be waiting for her.”
“They who?”
He lets a few minutes of silence pass. “Professionals. There are people from the Vatican to Harvard Medical that have their own assassination squads.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“Well…maybe about Harvard.”
Safia sighs. Her phone rings. “Hi, Rita,” she smiles, closing her eyes behind her own glasses.
�
��Hi yourself, Safia. I’ve been worried sick about you. Where the hell are you? No, never mind, don’t tell me. I think I know anyway. When are you coming back?”
“I may be back tomorrow. For the funeral.”
“Is…everyone okay?”
“Okay is relevant right?”
“Right.” A worried pause. “Can I do anything?”
“You can go to the funeral with me. If I come.”
“You know I will.”
“Also, can you tell Dr. Ackers I’ll need to use my vacation days. I left a message for him, but just in case. Can you tell him?”
“We’ve already discussed it. He knows. He cares about Olivia, too. Wants to make sure she’s okay.”
“Tell him, she’s…fine. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“All right. You take care of yourself.”
“Will do.”
Chapter 25
The air is chilled and holds the sickly sweet smell of fresh flowers. Safia glances at the guestbook sitting on a flimsy wooden podium just inside the door. She can’t get it to make sense. She can’t get herself to look down the room at the casket waiting there. She watches Rita pick up the pen, her small translucent hands creating elegant strokes in the guestbook. Safia counts. There are twelve names before hers.
“Do you want a moment alone?” she asks quietly, even though no one else is there to disturb. Safia realizes somewhere in the back of her mind, back where logical thought is hiding, that it is her Rita is afraid to disturb. Maybe she feels the empty, maddening silence, too and realizes a voice within that silence would have startled her.
Safia nods.
“Okay,” Rita places a hand on the small of her back. A gesture of sympathy. It somehow seems undeserved. “I’ll be waiting in the hall.”
Safia is left alone. She walks slowly to the right of the room, to the wall of flower arrangements. A dozen displays represent the people in her life who cared, who will think of her once in awhile. Most of them are on easels; sprays of pink carnations, white chrysanthemums, yellow rose accents with pink or white satin ribbons. Beauty made painful by its association with loss. She reaches out and peeks beneath a folded card attached to the largest spray.
Strange New Feet Page 15
