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Puppet Page 7

by Pauline C. Harris


  “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says gruffly, although I sense the relief filling his voice and it sends a spark of shock through me.

  I stand there for a moment before leaving the room; surprised. It would almost be better if he did yell at me. Scream at me for ruining his car and putting James in danger. But the fear I had seen in his eyes is slowly beginning to make sense. Fear for our lives. Not just James’s, but mine as well. And his fear and worry and vulnerability make me feel worse than any punishment he could give me. But I can’t help but feel just a little bit happy. He cared. About me.

  I hurry into my room, shutting the door and peeling off my bloodstained shirt, dumping it on the floor. I grab some pajamas and quickly change into them, still feeling as if blood is caked to my arms. I want to take a shower but Jed and James are still in the bathroom. I pick at my fingernails, seeing dark, red stains at their tips. The bandages are already changing color; pink as the blood becomes visible through layers of gauze.

  I lie down on my bed and stare up at the ceiling, running over all the possible apologies and things I’ll say to Jed and James. But I don’t get a chance to get up and find them before I slowly fall asleep.

  12

  I wake up the next morning and get dressed, dreading the minute I walk into the kitchen; Jed’s glares, James’s silence. But as I slowly head down the stairs, hesitating at every step, I can hear their voices in the kitchen; normal sounding. Talking about breakfast and how they slept the night before. But right before I’m about to walk in I hear different conversation start up.

  “...You’re not even remotely interested...” Jed’s voice floats through the door.

  There’s a pause before I hear James’s sigh and fragmented words follow. “...never thought any of it was right. Mom didn’t either.”

  There’s a long silence before I deduct that their conversation is over and I reluctantly walk in. They both look up upon my approach and greet me as I stride through the door, their demeanors both normal.

  Jed lays down a tray of scrambled eggs like he does every morning and we all sit down, James and Jed going on about some new theory of his and how he wants to try it out on the cat. Poor Clemetice. It’s probably the only reason he got the animal in the first place. Just like me.

  “How are your hands?” Jed asks me and I look down to see that the blood has soaked the bandages an auburn shade. “We’ll need to change those after breakfast,” he informs me.

  I nod. I begin picking at my food, looking back and forth between Jed and James but neither of them seems any different or hostile toward me in the least. Jed might not look as happy as usual, but he doesn’t seem especially upset. There’s still a bandage just above James’s eye and I wonder if his cut is any better.

  “We’ll have to go get the car today...” Jed says quietly, a grim expression on his face and I cringe, thinking of seeing the mangled piece of metal in the daylight.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, but Jed doesn’t reply; he only nods.

  Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and we all look up. My stomach knots with anxiety, although I’m not sure why. “Who could that be?” Jed mutters as he rises from the table with a sigh. I look over at James but he’s staring down at his plate. I continue eating my eggs in silence.

  “Is Penelope Trump here?” I hear a voice ask and I nearly choke on a mouthful of food. James looks up to meet my gaze and I send him a worried glance. I hear Jed call my name and I hesitantly get up from the table and leave the room, James a few steps behind me.

  An administrator dressed in black stands in the doorway and eyes me skeptically as I walk up. His eyes linger on mine a moment longer than usual and I look away, trying to quell the alarm rising within me.

  “We found your car this morning, Mr. Orville,” the administrator states.

  I see Jed open his mouth, probably to say ‘doctor’; I’ve seen him correct people many times on this issue, but the administrator goes on before Jed can utter a word.

  “I’d like you to see it.” His eyes are dark and almost angry as they dart to my face and back to Jed’s.

  Jed looks confused and worried at the same time, although he’s trying hard to hide it. “Alright, then,” he replies and looks over at James and me, his expression ordering us to come along.

  We follow the administrator outside and I see a large vehicle pulling something silver and crumpled; Jed’s car. Two other administrators stand beside it, watching us approach.

  My eyes grow wider as we get closer and the condition of the car becomes more and more apparent. I doubt it will ever be drivable again and a pang of guilt hits me like a punch in the stomach. I should never have driven it. I should have listened to James.

  The administrator walks around to the other side, staring down at something and beckons for us to follow. As Jed circles the car I can see his posture stiffen and his expression morph into an intrigued frown, even as his eyes grow wide. James and I quickly follow and I stop just feet from the door James had been trapped underneath only hours before.

  My heart rate quickens as I stare down at the crumpled door, smashed and bent not only from the crash but from hands. My hands. Finger indentations line the metal just outside the shattered window and the door curls outward like a wave, much, much farther than I remember pulling it. My breath catches in my throat, my mind not wanting to believe that I’m capable of this much destruction. At first glance I feel powerful, but then memories of slapping the scientist and then last night when James had been trapped, feeling as if I was merely tugging the door open...when I had done this.

  “I’d like to ask how this happened,” the administrator tells me, his eyes hard and cold, although I’m certain he knows exactly how it got there.

  I stare down at the bent wave of silver, stained red on the edges from my blood. I can feel Jed and James staring at me; their gazes boring holes through my skull.

  “Miss Trump?” the administrator prompts. I stare up at him and he glares back at me intently. I look from him to the mangled door and back.

  Suddenly Jed steps in front of me, glowering at the administrator with burning eyes, although he’s at least a good head taller than Jed is. “She’s sixteen and you can’t question her like she’s a criminal without any evidence,” he snarls and I look to him, startled that he’s standing up for me so vehemently. James catches my eye and we both look down at the contorted car door; we know that’s enough evidence; more than enough.

  The administrator sends Jed a steely look, his head held high, his upper lip curled before sending a glare in my direction and then back at Jed. “You’ve been ordered by Head Devere to deliver Penelope Trump to our custody within the next twenty-four hours,” he spits, “on the grounds that she’s dangerous and a very possible threat to the welfare of our citizens.”

  Jed’s expression falls and he opens his mouth in protest, but the administrator turns on his heels and stalks back to his little black car without another word. “Wait!” Jed calls but the car door is slammed and he slowly starts to drive away. The truck driver unhooks Jed’s car, dumping it unceremoniously in the driveway and then follows the black car down the road until they disappear behind a curve.

  Jed stands at the end of the driveway, fists clenched as he stares down the road where the car has long since vanished. I look over at the pile of crumpled metal, the door curving outwards like a menacing hook, my finger marks engraved in the steel. As my gaze lingers longer, dread begins to envelop me, taking hold of my heart and squeezing it so tight I’m surprised it’s still beating. I stare down at my shaking hands to see the bandages starting to unravel from my clenching and unclenching.

  I feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to see James. He looks like he wants to say something but can’t find the right words; his eyes are sad and worried. I see Jed turn around and begin to head toward us, his arms sagging at his sides.

  Suddenly indignation flares up inside of me as Jed shuffles closer and James’s eyes grow more anxious.
/>   “Jed,” I say. “I’m not going.” He looks sadly over at me and opens his mouth, but I beat him to it. “And you won’t get in trouble for it, either.” I take a step away from the car and James’s hand falls to his side. “I’m leaving.”

  I see the doubt surface in James’s eyes and he begins to shake his head. “Pen...” he says slowly. “It’ll never work. They’ll find you.”

  I shake my head. “It will work. I’m not just going to let them take me, can’t you understand that?”

  “It’s dangerous,” James adds.

  “So?”

  He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

  “Penelope,” Jed says as he takes a step forward, looking utterly flummoxed. “James is right...”

  Instead of answering, I turn around and begin to head back to the house. I can hear Jed and James hurrying after me across the gravel, although almost hesitantly as if they don’t know what to do. I stride through the door and begin to make my way up the stairs when Jed’s voice stops me.

  “Penelope,” he calls. “They’ll be watching the house. They’ll know if you leave.”

  “I’ll find a way,” I respond without turning around, although a twinge of doubt begins to form in my mind.

  I hear Jed sigh in frustration. “Where are you going?”

  “To pack.” I stop to look at him. “I’m gonna need coats and shoes aren’t I?”

  Jed just stares at me dubiously and after a moment I turn and continue to my room. I grab a bag from underneath my bed; it’s the same one I had from the orphanage; a dark gray-blue, and then I start searching through my drawers. I don’t have a lot of clothes but enough to where I can’t fit all of them in that small bag. I grab a sweater and a coat and throw them in first, along with some extra pairs of everyday clothing.

  I hear a knock at the door and internally groan, thinking it’s Jed come to chide me again but when I tell them to come in, it’s James who enters.

  “Hi,” I say.

  He comes to stand by the bed without a word, his hands folded across his chest as he watches me. He stares at my bag as I throw clothes into it, his expression contemplative. I raise my eyebrows at him in question but he doesn’t answer, only watches me as I walk across the room to where my shoes are. I only have a few pairs so I pick my lace-up boots, the sturdiest I have.

  “Are you here to stop me?” I ask James on my way back to the bed where I set the shoes down by my bag.

  “Would it do any good?”

  I smile and shake my head.

  “Dad’s completely distraught down there,” he goes on.

  I shrug. “I’m just a problem now. He’ll probably be glad to get rid of me; I was only a science experiment.” I reach for my bag to sort out the clothes, but James grabs it away.

  “Hey,” he replies. “You know Dad thinks more of you than that,” he nearly snaps.

  I stare at him for a moment before looking down at my bandaged hands; I haven’t gotten the chance to change them yet. My mind darts over James’s comment. Do I really know that? Do I think of Jed and my relationship as family or as just a mutual agreement? I’m not even sure if I can grasp what care feels like, but I know some part of me cares for Jed and hopes almost more than anything that he cares for me too. And just recently I’ve been wondering if his care of me is more than just protecting his science and reputation. But it was business that brought us together and business that will bring us apart. No matter how hard I wished for a father, maybe it was just never in my cards.

  “Well, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m leaving,” I tell James, snatching the bag back from him. James sighs and sits down on the bed, looking up at me in annoyance.

  “Dad’s going to kill me for this,” he says, “but I’m not letting you go alone.”

  I stop folding my clothes for a moment to stare at him. “What?” I ask in disbelief. I shake my head. “Oh, come on, James,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine; I don’t need anyone to look out for me. Besides, what would Jed do?”

  “Dad will be fine,” he replies almost too quickly.

  “You just said he’s downstairs hysterical,” I protest, pointing to the door. “How can you leave him?”

  James glares at me. “How can I leave you?”

  “You’re not the one leaving,” I snap.

  James groans in frustration and runs his fingers through his hair. “Pen...” he mutters angrily.

  I ignore him and continue to fold my clothes up, dumping them into the bag, and cinching the strap. I put my hands on my hips and point to the door. “I need to change,” I inform James. “Out.”

  He grumpily gets up and leaves the room, sending me a look of exasperation before closing the door behind him. I quickly change into some pants and a brown, long-sleeved shirt, slipping the boots on as well. I go through my bag one more time and then notice my hands again, reminding myself to change the bandages before leaving.

  I stop for a moment to look around the room. It’s only been mine for a matter of months but for some reason it feels more like home to me than any other room I’ve stayed in. I stare sadly at the glass wall that had freaked me out when I first moved here, but I realize that I’m going to miss it.

  I frown, shrugging and trying not to think about it as turn for the door. I twist the knob and bite back a yelp of surprise to find James standing only inches away. “What are you doing?” I snap, jumping backwards.

  He holds up a backpack and I realize it’s full of clothing. I roll my eyes.

  “Come on.” He smiles. “It’ll be an adventure.”

  I shake my head, sidestepping him out into the hallway. “No, James, it’s not an adventure; it’s tragic.”

  He’s silent as he follows me down the stairs and I head into the kitchen. “Oh, wait,” he stops me. “I’ve got it all in here.” He unzips the front part of the backpack and reveals a stash of food. I look down at it in disbelief.

  “You’re fast,” I comment.

  He nods with a grin.

  I stand, staring up at him with a frown while he smiles back at me. I can’t think of any reason why James would feel the need to come, other than to protect me, which by the looks of the mangled car in the driveway, seems unrealistic.

  I sigh, turning away. “Fine,” I grumble. “Come.” I can already feel the knot of guilt forming from taking away Jed’s only son. Not only have I taken his dream, but his child as well. I think back to the orphanage, frustrated, suddenly feeling as if I can never get anything right.

  I can almost feel the waves of triumph washing over James so I spin around with a glower and point to the study doors. “You’re telling Jed.”

  13

  James and I trudge across the damp, mossy ground away from the house, the light from the windows slowly vanishing behind us. It’s barely dark outside and the sparse trees surrounding us are cloaked in a gray hue; like a fuzzy black and white video.

  Jed warned us to stay away from the roads since they most likely have administrators posted at every corner. I can still see his face in my mind; the way his mouth turned downwards with his worried expression. I know he was trying to look calm and composed but I could see the fear hidden in his deep blue eyes.

  “So do you have any idea where you want to go?” James asks, looking over at me.

  I smirk. “It’s not a vacation, I’m running away.”

  He shrugs. “Well why not run somewhere fun?”

  I shrug back at him and we continue on in silence for a moment, hearing the squishing sounds of our shoes over the marshy underbrush. I don’t hear any animals and I wonder if they’ve run away upon our approach. I feel as though we’re intruding.

  “So what did Jed end up saying?” I ask James quietly. Although we waited until dark to venture out, few words were passed between Jed and me.

  He pauses for a moment before answering, looking ahead in contemplation. “He was upset, but he agreed with me...for once.”

  I look over at him in surprise. Jed’s sorrowful expres
sion hadn’t looked exactly agreeable to me. “He agreed? With what?”

  James glances at me again; his eyes darker in the night lighting. “That he’s partially responsible and...that you need someone to come with you...just because it’s safer.”

  I open my mouth in disbelief. “Why?” I ask incredulously. “He’s the one who gave me all this...marionette stuff. He should know better than anyone that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself,” I snap, the words coming out harsher than I had intended. I shut my mouth and am just about to apologize for my tone when I notice James shaking and it takes me a moment to realize he’s laughing. My frown deepens and I stop to glare at him. “What?”

  He chokes back another laugh and tries to put on a somewhat serious face. “It’s not your physical skills that need help, Pen,” he tells me. “But...” He pauses and screws his face up in thought, like he’s not sure how I’ll react to his next statement. I brace myself for something rude and degrading, narrowing my eyes at him. “You might need, I don’t know...guidance, as Jed called it?”

  My mouth hangs open. “Guidance?” I nearly spit. “I’m not five!”

  James shrugs. “It’s just...you’re kind of...hasty.” He looks up to gauge my expression but upon seeing it, he seems regretful.

  “I’m...” not! I groan in frustrated fury and glare in James’s direction, although I’m angrier at this thing than at him. I’m still startled by its sudden appearances. I’m furious to find that, in fact, I am hasty. I must be if I’m incapable of denying it.

  “In some things,” he adds quickly. I glower at him, spinning away to continue on into the woods. James hurries to catch up to me. “It’s not always a bad thing,” he says. “It makes you brave.”

  I ignore him.

  “It’s just sometimes you need something to tell you to hold back.” James looks over at me but I won’t meet his gaze. “Come on, Pen, don’t be mad. Dad and I just care about you, that’s all.”

  We trudge along in silence for awhile, James’s words still spinning around in my head. I can’t believe they think I need someone to take care of me. And James of all people. He’s barely a year older than me; is he really that much more of an adult than I am?

 

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