Oh my gosh, George!
“Um . . . you didn’t happen to see a big burly man with red hair at all when you were rescuing me?”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t.”
I hope that doesn’t mean he’s chained up somewhere the way I was, or worse. A shiver courses through me at the awful images my mind conjures as to what could have happened to George.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Howard asks.
I glance up to see him watching me intently, his gaze moving up and down.
“What are you looking at?” Inspecting myself, I realise my torn shirt has fallen open and my bra is showing. Mortified, I grab the two sides of my shirt and pull them together.
“Sorry,” he says and looks at his feet, shuffling them back and forth. “I didn’t mean—”
“I have a shirt that might fit you,” Rhonda says, her voice catching me off guard. I’d completely forgotten she was in the room. “Why don’t I go and get it.”
“Thank you, that would be great.”
Rhonda taps Howard on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s leave her be. She’s had enough excitement for one day.”
Howard glares at his mother, then looks at me. His glare morphs into a cross between a smile and a frown, he almost looks . . . reluctant. After a few seconds, a swarm of butterflies takes up residence in my stomach. I’m about to ask him whether there’s anything else he needs, when he shakes his head and strides out of the room behind his mother.
The door shuts with a thud behind them, leaving me confused but thankful for a few moments of quiet.
I flop down on the pallet, a gush of air escaping my lungs. How did my normal, relaxing Sunday run turn into such a catastrophe?
I take a few minutes to survey my body. There are ugly red marks around my wrists and a multitude of sore spots on my legs. I shudder at the tenderness in my muscles—and at the thought of what might have happened if Howard hadn’t gotten there when he did. I never thought fornication sounded very appealing, but now . . . I’m sure it’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever heard of.
I force my gaze to my surroundings in an attempt to find something else to think about. I was right when I guessed it was a child’s room. A memory of sitting on the floor in my childhood bedroom, playing dolls in the dollhouse Dad built me, brings a smile to my face.
I can’t afford to think about that now, though. I can’t afford to show any weakness, just in case. I haven’t interacted much with those outside MITI, but Rhonda seems nice. Her kindness in taking care of a stranger speaks volumes to her character and makes it hard for me to believe she could be evil. Her son, on the other hand, leaves me . . . confused.
Voices muffled by the door catch my attention. I can’t hear what is being said, but I can tell it’s Rhonda and Howard. Their tone seems agitated. Rhonda returns a few seconds later as heavy steps echo down the hallway.
“Here you are, dear.”
I smile and take the bundle of clothes. “Thanks.”
She sits beside me, her pleasant motherly presence instantly making me feel better. I look through the clothes and see she’s brought me a complete change of clothes, not just a shirt.
“How far we are from MITI?” As soon as I speak, I realise what I’ve inadvertently revealed.
The all-knowing expression on Rhonda’s face confirms it. “I would say it’s a good day’s walk.”
“You know who I am?”
She nods.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I figured you would say something if you wanted us to know.”
“Does Howard know?”
“He hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure none of the other family members know.”
I sag in relief. “Do you have a phone I could use to ring them and have them send a cart?”
“No, we don’t have such luxuries in the outskirts. The area post office has one. But at this time of night, it is too dangerous to be out on the streets. Why don’t you change and come join us in the kitchen? It’s almost dinner. You can stay here tonight, and Howard can take you to the post office in the morning.”
“As lovely as that sounds, I really must be getting back. I’m sure they are already searching for me.”
“Bethanie, dear, I doubt even security would risk coming into this part of the sector at night. You’ve already had one narrow escape today. I doubt you want another.”
The idea of being attacked again sends a shiver down my spine and I shake my head.
“Good, then that’s settled. You can stay the night and tomorrow we’ll get you home.”
There’s a light knock on the door. A little girl of maybe ten pokes her head in and announces food’s ready. The smell wafts in behind her and my stomach grumbles, making my decision for me.
“Okay,” I reply. “Let me get dressed and I will join you.”
Rhonda stands and walks towards the door. “Turn left out the door and follow the hall to the kitchen. You can’t miss it.”
Alone again, I stand to change. Just sliding off my jogging pants is a chore. The muscles in my legs are extremely stiff, and I have black and blue marks everywhere. I obviously have bruising in places I can’t see as well, because as I pull on the clothes Rhonda gave me, they rub against the sore spots.
Tears pour down my cheeks as the reality of everything sinks in. The adrenaline coursing through my system has ebbed away, leaving me shaking and exhausted. Knowing how close I came to being raped, if not killed, makes me shudder. Knowing what people are willing to do to me, even before I am Matron, makes me unexpectedly thankful for my sheltered upbringing. A shelter I desperately want to get back to. When I spoke to Gail yesterday about wishing something out of the normal would happen, this is not what I had in mind.
I finish dressing, and open the door. Happy voices echo down the hallway. Following Rhonda’s directions, I soon find a long rectangular table full of people waiting to eat. Gosh, how many kids live in this house? The table itself looks old and well-used, like it might even be from the ancestors’ time. It’s covered in baskets that appear to be woven out of leaves. Everyone is seated on square blocks of stone that seem to be makeshift chairs.
“I saved you a seat.” A little girl waves and motions to a block next to her.
“Thank you,” I reply politely and take my seat. “Everything looks delicious.”
The baskets are filled with in an amazing spread of traditional foods like mushrooms, eggs, and bread, but there are also some rare foods like tomatoes and capsicum. I haven’t seen a meal of such capacity in years. I wonder where they have gotten all the food, as it is not typical fare provided by the city stores. Everyone has an empty plate in front of him or her apparently waiting for me to start eating.
“Thank you for your hospitality.”
“You’re welcome,” Rhonda replies. “Let me introduce you to everyone.” I nod and smile. “At the head of the table, that handsome gentleman, is my husband, Anthony.”
“Welcome,” Anthony says with a tip of his head.
“To his left, of course, is Howard. He’s our eldest at twenty-three.”
I notice he is again staring at me. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down my spine. I find it hard to believe that he is younger than I am.
“Next to him is our oldest girl, Margaret, though everyone calls her Margie. She’s nineteen. To her left is Timothy, or Tim for short. He’s ten. These two to my left and right are the twins, Bradley and Jean. They will be thirteen next month. Last, but not least, that little bundle of joy to your right is Claire. She’s six.”
Everyone but Howard give me a wave and a quick, “Hi.”
Looking around the table, I’m confused. They all seem to have similar facial features, which make me think they are related, but they can’t be. The law prohibits women from having more than one child with the same man, and more than two overall. They can’t possibly all be her children.
Before I can even ask my question, Rhonda answers it. “Yes, a
ll the children are mine and Anthony’s.”
“But . . . how?”
“Do they not teach the ways of making love in schools anymore?”
Making love? I glance back and forth between Anthony and Rhonda. They can’t be saying what I think they are.
“Yes, Bethanie. All of our children, besides Howard, were conceived naturally.”
I look around the table again. “By fornication?”
Rhonda nods, smiling with pride.
Anthony chuckles. “So that’s what they’re calling it nowadays.”
I shake my head. “But that’s illegal.”
A gaggle of chuckles rings out from the adult family members. My cheeks heat in embarrassment and fury. I don’t understand what they find funny. Glaring at them, suddenly all the pieces click into place.
“You’re Trads.”
“No, not Trads, just traditionalists,” Rhonda clarifies.
Anger rages inside me. Traditionalist is just the nice word for those among us who ignore our laws. The very laws put in place so we can survive.
“Do you not care anything for the future of the human race?” I ask.
“Excuse me?” Rhonda sounds offended at my accusation. Anthony puts his cutlery down and crosses his arms, a scowl on his face.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous what you have done is? Diseases can be transferred through natural conception. Not to mention the extra drain on society to feed a family of eight.” My face feels like it is on fire. “There’s barely enough to go around without people like you disobeying our laws.”
Howard stands, fists clenched. “You have no idea what you are talking about. If people like you would open your goddamned eyes, you’d see how much the rest of us are suffering.” He slams his fist against the table.
I jerk away when the vibration jostles the plate in front of me. My heart hammers in my chest.
“Sit down,” Rhonda tells Howard. He turns his glare from me to her. “Now,” she says in a tone of voice that brooks no argument.
I remove my shaking hands from the table and hide them in my lap. This family may claim to be “just traditionalists,” but it’s clear from Howard’s violent reaction that they’re not as placid and carefree as they would have me think.
All of a sudden, the lights go off and it’s pitch black. A squeal echoes from beside me and there are a couple of gasps from around the table, including my own.
“Stay calm, everyone,” Howard’s father says, his voice deep and commanding. “Your mum and I will find the lamps. It shouldn’t be dark for too long.”
Their feet sound against the cement floor, and a shiver runs down my spine. I’m terrified and angry, and suddenly even more aware of the fact that these people have no regard for the law. No wonder they don’t want me phoning for help.
Wondering if this might be my only chance for escape, I turn quietly in my seat. It’s dark and I have no idea where else I can go, but staying here isn’t an option. Once I’m sure I’m facing the right way, I stand and make for the nearest exit, which from memory is in front of me and down a short hall. I saw it when I came to the kitchen. Holding my hands in front of me, I collide briefly with a wall before feeling my way around the edge of it. A small sliver of light appears behind me then, making it easier to see my destination.
“Hey, where are you going?” Howard calls out.
I ignore him and fling the door open, running outside. In a stroke of luck, the power kicks back on the moment I reach the road. I take a quick look to the right, then to the left. When neither way looks familiar, I do a quick mental coin toss and choose left.
Thankful I have my running shoes on, I search for anywhere I might be able to contact MITI. Running seems to help get my emotions under control and calms me. At least until I make it to the end of the block and glance over my shoulder to see Howard following.
Picking up my pace, my heart beats wildly in my chest. I check every door or alcove I pass for somewhere to hide.
I turn left at the next side street but immediately regret my decision. A few houses up are two men who look similar to the ones who abducted me.
“Hey!” the bigger of the two shouts. “What are you doing out?”
With Howard not far behind me, I can’t go back the way I came. I take a quick survey of my surroundings and spot a single chance for escape. Halfway between the men and me, on the other side of the road, is an alley.
Confident I can outrun the men, I sprint as fast as my legs can carry me and duck into the darkness.
I only make it a few paces down the alley when a hand comes around my waist and pulls me through a doorway. I open my mouth to scream but swallow it when I realise my pursuers are the only ones close enough to hear me. Instead, I kick and wriggle, trying to flee from my new captor.
“Let me go!”
“Shh, it’s Howard. You need to be quiet.” He puts me down and closes the door. “It’s not safe.”
When I turn around he’s standing only centimetres behind me, his chest rising and falling like he’s out of breath. He bolts the door shut, then grabs my hand and guides me to the rear of the space, where he overturns a couple of empty crates and beckons me to sit. I look around, noting the crates of grain and other food stores scattered about.
I yank my hand out of his. “What are you doing, following me?”
“Saving your butt.” He huffs, then paces back and forth. “Did my mum not tell you how dangerous it is to be out at night around here?”
I feel heat creep up my neck, across my cheeks, and all the way to the tips of my ears. I’m glad there’s not much light in the room so he can’t see how red I am.
“She might have mentioned it,” I say, sitting down and keeping my eyes trained on him.
Footfalls sound outside the door, and Howard puts his finger to his lips, his face begging me not to make a sound. The noise fades a little, then gets loud again, and eventually disappears altogether.
Howard stares at me and cocks an eyebrow. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Well, if you knew it was dangerous, why on earth did you run away?”
“You scared me. So when the lights went out I took a chance.”
Howard wrings his hands for a second then says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Well, you did. And you could have told me it was you before you grabbed me. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I didn’t want you getting hurt. I mean, do you even know where you are?”
The expression on his face is a cross between you’re an idiot and please don’t scare me like that again. It makes me bite my tongue and shake my head.
“No, I don’t.”
“You’re in the far west ward. One of the worst slums in the city. Someone sees a pretty woman like you wandering around and nothing good would come of it.”
My body shakes at the thought of what could have happened to me yet again. I’ve heard stories about the slums, and I have to take a few deep breaths to calm myself.
“I was silly running away, I get it. I just couldn’t stay in your home any longer.”
Howard sighs. “Just because my parents raised us with traditionalist values doesn’t mean we are anything like the Trads. You accused us of being a drain on society, but you don’t even know us.”
“You’re right, I don’t know you. But you don’t know me either. If you did, you would understand why it’s hard for me to understand your way of life. It goes against every law, moral, and convention I’ve been taught. So I can’t be sorry for what I said, even if I’m sorry I ran out of the house.”
Howard takes a deep breath, then exhales long and slow. The expression on his face looks a bit like pity but with a dash of guilt mixed in. “Look, maybe I’ve judged you unfairly based on preconceived notions, but—”
A loud bang echoes outside. Howard glances at me with a panicked look on his face, and then pulls me off the crate onto the floor behind. I sit up, and turn to yell
at him, but male voices outside keep my mouth closed. Instead I huddle closer to Howard as he puts his hand around my shoulders. He pulls me in until I’m tucked against him.
“Did you see where she went?” a man’s voice asks.
“Nah, she just vanished.” The voice of this one sounds young.
“Damn, the boss isn’t going to be pleased about this.”
The crunch of shoes against pavement indicates they are on the move again. The sounds trail off until they’re no longer audible. I sigh in relief, all the tension fleeing my body.
“Are you okay?’ Howard asks, rubbing my shoulder.
I glance up, only then noticing how little space is between us. His blue eyes have flecks of grey in them, and there’s a smattering of freckles covering his nose and cheeks. His warm breath tickles my cheek almost like a caress, and his jaw has the barest hint of a five o’clock shadow. He really is captivating.
“I’m fine,” I eventually say, the words a mere whisper.
The butterflies in my stomach return with a vengeance. Howard licks his lips as they turn up ever so slightly in a smile.
“Good.”
I can’t stop the sigh that slips past my own lips. Howard leans forward a little, then moves closer still until his mouth is pressed against mine. I don’t dare move. A zing of something, I’m not sure whether it’s pleasure or fear, shoots through me. His lips are soft and wet, and the sensation is unlike anything I’ve felt before. I can’t even decide if I want him to continue or stop. When he pulls away, though, a feeling of disappointment bubbles up inside me.
My first kiss.
Goose bumps cover me from head to toe, and unbidden, my fingers move to my lips. Glancing at Howard, he stares at me for a minute, then moves to sit further away.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I shrug. “It’s okay.”
Howard frowns and then looks across the room.
Part of Matron training is learning not to form close relationships. It doesn’t mean it never happens. I’ve heard the odd story here and there from the other women, and I realise that’s probably what Gail was trying to tell me at breakfast the other day. But in all honesty, I can’t remember the last time I had real physical contact with anyone, above all with a man.
Matronly Duties Page 3
