by Tara Brown
"It's weird they are exactly like their namesakes."
I laugh. "I know. Meg is a savage, and Bernie is a bookworm."
He glances at me. "At least Will is nothing like Will."
I roll my eyes. "Poor girl, who saddles a four year old with the name Will?"
He wraps himself around me. "I wonder what Star and Mitch got the twins? Can't be as cool as our gift."
I sigh. "We rode a long ways to find that book."
Anna comes in the house seconds later. "Get up. Jeeze. You're worse than the teenagers."
Jake moans, "We were on watch last night, Anna."
She snorts. "Did you know Star gave them their own sheriff badges? Will is out there trying to steal Bernie's. I can't believe you gave them a weapon and she gave them badges to make those weapons lawful."
I look at Jake. "Oh, that’s cooler than our gift."
He points. "Only to Meg."
Anna sighs. "You going to the trade market tomorrow?"
I nod. "Yeah. I need to see him."
She nods. "I'm coming." She gives Jake a sweet look and bats her eyelashes. "Can you stay here and help Nick with the twins?"
He smiles. "Yeah. I can help Sarah teach Meg not to shoot other people."
As a village we celebrate their birthday, the first babies born here. We laugh, joke and eat. It's a night filled with dancing and singing.
We have learned to make joy and live every day.
Nothing is perfect, but it's better.
Outlaws are gunned down by the sheriffs Star and Mitch run. Criminals are punished harshly. Trade markets no longer trade people. Brothels are the new way of keeping women down, but Star burns them when she finds them. She has learned to use her anger and hatred in a good way. Sometimes I ride with her to release my inner demons.
Nothing is ever going to be perfect. I still haven’t found all the people Marshall was with; the bad people who kill kids like me. When I stumble upon them I kill them, but I know there are more. There always will be bad people. The kids Michael made have blended. We don’t see packs of them like we did in the city. Society has either killed them or accepted them, depending on where they ended up and their behavior.
Anna and I ride into the trade market the next day. The smell of fruit is everywhere. The warm summer months make the trade market the best place to come. There is fruit, baking, and roasting everywhere.
We ride past the market though, heading for the place that was never part of the deal for the land.
I get off of my horse and tie him to a post. Anna and I walk to the two rock piles under the rose bush that seems so large now, I hardly recognize it. Anna picks the leaves and sticks off of the headstone that was placed here with Bernie's name on it.
I drop in front of the one I buried him under two summers ago. He had to have been the oldest-lived wolf ever.
I place the stone from my pocket in the pile and just let the tears come.
"I miss you, buddy."
He died old, fat, and happy. He died sleeping next to a warm dish of food. If anyone deserved that death it was him.
I look up at the sky and smile. "You all hug each other for me."
Anna and I still cry every time we come. Sarah refuses to come. She won't see him in the ground.
Someone once told me to find another timber wolf for a pet. They didn’t understand he was never my pet. He was my family. He was the warmth in the dark and the person I needed to not be alone.
No one but Anna, Sarah, and Jake can understand the value of Leo. He was family.
Anna grips my hand and I try to smile. "I wish he could have lived forever."
Anna nods and sniffles. "Me too."
I look down at the spot on my skin, where I had the smithy burn his name into my arm, and rub the scar.
I look at Anna and know Leo led them to me. I like to think that he knew one day he would be gone and I would be alone. He found a family for me. He chose them, and I don’t think anyone could have chosen better.
Through the thick and thin, and the good and the bad, no one but Leo could have found me a better place to fit in or better people.
No one knew me the way Leo did.
I believe in God because of the two people in front of me—Meg and Leo, angels in disguise.
There are a thousand things I could have changed and made different than they are now, but then maybe I wouldn’t have the life I do. Everyday there is more. More love, more happiness, and more gratitude for everyday I wake up free.
They say that the world was built for two. I used to doubt that and think that two was a long lost dream. I used to believe we didn’t deserve the happiness of the perfect place we all remembered.
But that world wasn’t ever real; it never existed. It was a daydream and a memory we made up. We didn’t want the change, but in some ways we needed it.
Some things were easier before, but almost everything is better now.
Nothing is instant; evil and hatred take time. It isn’t as easy as using the Internet to make hate, or commit crimes from a speeding car with a gun out the window. Everything takes time and effort. The good and the bad.
I see now that true love isn’t fickle; it's what we put into it. If we work hard at loving someone, then no one can corrupt the love we have.
I see everything differently than before, and I have Leo to thank for that.
I wasn’t born into this world. I had to learn how to survive and live with the other people in it. But like Jake always says, I was raised by wolves, so I had to expect it was going to be hard to learn how to fit in.
Looking back on it all, I can't think of a better way to be raised than by a wolf, and I can't think of a better wolf to raise a savage little girl all on his own.
I lift the rock I found, with the pretty crystals in it, to my lips and kiss it. The warmth of the stone against my lips is a comfort. I place it back down on the pile and hold my hand there. "I love you both."
I get up and walk away, holding the hand of my sister, grateful for my ‘us.’ Because it's us and them, it always was.
The End
Thank you for being part of my us!!
If you are looking for the next dystopian or apocalyptic book, my book Imaginations has just been released. It is similar and yet completely opposite. Hope you like it!! Here is a sneak peek!!
Imaginations
Last night or maybe the one before… Does it matter?
I had searched the crowd for her, but his fingers clasped around mine and distracted me. I’d swear the deafening music made my heart beat faster, if that were possible. I didn’t know if it was or not.
I looked at his fingers touching mine. It was a weird sensation for me. They didn’t dig in threateningly, but the way they grasped, I could sense the excitement coming off of him. He held me like he didn’t want me to get away. I decided, as I was dragged through the dance floor, that it had to be lust. I knew about lust. It was a lesson I’d memorized.
It wasn’t just my imagination.
His strong hands and firm grasp made my heart race. My own lust was coursing through me. It had started when he’d touched me. I could only imagine that I liked the way he held me tightly to him. I couldn’t remember if I had ever felt it before. But I could imagine it. I was weak like that, always letting my imagination get the best of me.
I let him pull me, bumping us both into strangers who were also masked. My mask rubbed against my cheeks, annoying me. I wished I could take it off, but the club had rules. A curious moment made me wonder if I had ever been here before, wearing the mask and wishing I could take it off? Was there ever a version of me that was brave enough to take it off and defy the rules of the Club of the Unknown? Was every version of me different or were circumstances so repetitive that I was always the same girl living the same day? Were any of my days ever different? I quickly reasoned that if they had been the same, I would have remembered them with better clarity. As it was, I had flashes of the things I’d repeated and tha
t was all. That alone meant my days were different. We always remembered what we repeated.
I couldn’t know if I had been to the club before, but I could assume it. I had to have been, as the message with the location had come to my handheld. How else would I have gotten it? That was the rule, was it not? My class had talked about it. None of us knew where the messages came from, or if in fact the club existed. Everyone at our school spoke of it in hushed tones, agreeing it was one thing we needed to remember existed. We had things we agreed upon, secret things our teacher let us have, that we didn’t have to talk to our parents or other adults about. Secrets she kept for us.
The whole class had to believe that the Club of the Unknown was important. Only then could we add it to the daily memory discussions. We were only allowed a few of those additions.
All we really ever discussed about the club was that it was real, and our belief that only the truly trusted were given the address to the location that changed every time. We agreed the club must happen once a month; more than that and they would get caught. Our teacher made us agree the conversation would never stray from the innocent discussions on the subject. She made us agree that we didn’t need to know the details of the club. All I really knew was that to be trusted and invited, one had to be guaranteed. To be guaranteed, someone had to vouch for you. I couldn’t imagine who had vouched for me.
But clearly someone had, because I was there. I was holding hands with a boy I didn’t know, as Amber was dancing with a group of people she didn’t know.
I looked around for Lyle. I almost jerked my hand free, wondering where he was. It had been odd that he had been on the train with us, as the man handed out the masks for the party none of us would remember. I was surprised Lyle would go and a little bit jealous. I liked that he was the one boy in class I could count on to be kind, and I always imagined he liked me just a bit.
I looked around, wondering if I could find him in the crowd. It wasn’t too late to jerk my hand free and find him. But if I did, could I imagine kissing him? Or what if I found him kissing another girl?
Either way, I would be grateful when the memory slipped away in the late evening, stolen by my sleep. I didn’t want to imagine him dancing and kissing another girl; he was too perfect and too sweet. I didn’t imagine he kissed girls. He was a gentleman.
I pushed the thought away and reminded myself that imaginations were a dangerous toy the weak mind played with. I, apparently, had the weakest of them all.
The night had felt magical in a thousand different ways; the most being the boy leading me down the hall so we could be alone in a quieter place. He didn’t look like Lyle. He looked taller, no—wider maybe. His shoulders were strong and thick. I imagined I liked that in a man, but I stopped myself before I could let the imaginations get carried away. They were nothing but trouble in a world with no yesterday and a planned tomorrow.
I tried not to fear the dark or the mystery of the guy with me. I wasn’t doing anything wrong, not technically. Kissing wasn’t illegal; just not something we did in the light of the day. Teenagers were known to take advantage of the reset. The darkness surrounding us prevented us from seeing too much of the truth. Not that it mattered. We wouldn’t remember tomorrow and that was the beauty of it. It was the greatest gift of all. I could commit the act and not carry the guilt.
The guy looked back at me as we rounded a corner. His green eyes were intense. “You live in the city?” he asked in a deep voice. It made my skin shiver in a nice way.
I shook my head, “No talking, please.”
His lips curled up into a smile as he stopped in the darkest part of the hall. He faced me, looking down on me. I stepped back, nervous and undecided if I had made the right choice. He stepped closer, forcing my back against the wall. I looked into his chest and held my breath.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
I swallowed the feelings in my stomach and craned my neck to look up into his shimmering green eyes. His lips were beautiful, and the mask hiding the rest only made him more stunning to look at. I felt my hands tremble.
“I need your name,” he whispered again.
I swallowed, “Gwyn.”
“I’m Brandon, everyone calls me Bran.”
Licking my lips, I stammered, “H-h-hi.”
“Hi,” he spoke as if he were in awe of me. He ran his fingers down my cheeks.
The dark of the hall and the sound of the music seemed distant compared to the ragged breath we shared. He bent down, brushing a whisper of a kiss against my parted lips. His tongue lightly traced along the crease of our mouths’ embrace. His hands stayed on my face, holding me as if I were breakable. Finally, he ran them down my arms to my back. He gripped me, pressing me into him as he surrounded me.
Our masks rubbed against each other as he moved his face and started kissing along my bared cheek and down to my throat. I shook my head, “Only kissing.” I wanted adventure but not that much.
He lifted his face and smiled, “I thought you said no talking.”
It made me smile, but I shook my head. He cupped my cheeks again, lightly feathering his fingers against my skin, “You are so beautiful, Gwyn.”
He bent his face again, wrapping his arms around me and breathing into my neck. I could swear I knew him. I knew his smell and his green eyes and the way his voice said my name. I pushed away the feelings and made them be hopes. I knew it would be easier to let him kiss me if I knew him. I hoped I knew him until his hand slipped down my back, cupping me and squeezing. Then I was grateful I wouldn’t remember anything tomorrow.
Tomorrow or maybe today or maybe it was yesterday. No, it was Tuesday.
The rumble of the tram vibrated against my back. I liked the familiar feel of it. I glanced out the window across from me, smiling at the orchards filled with the early-morning workers. The green of the grass seemed more intense with the morning light evading it from beyond the hills. It was like it was waiting for something before rising up over the mountains.
"What day is it?" Amber leaned in and whispered.
I pulled my handheld from my pocket and whispered back, "Tuesday. Why?"
She shook her head, "I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling, like I know what’s going to happen next. You know?" She looked at me with something in her eyes that I had seen in my own before.
Instead of being honest, I shook my head like I was supposed to, "No." But I did know. I had been feeling it, so much so that I was remembering that I felt it. Not that it mattered. We didn’t ever talk about stuff like that… ever. We needed to be strong for each other and fight the temptation of imagining things, or feeling unnecessary emotions. But if I were honest, I would tell her that I'd been having it for a while. I assumed it was my imagination making attempts at finding a home inside of my head. I knew I needed to be stronger than that. We all fought a battle within ourselves over the control of our minds and the weaknesses that hid in there, waiting to strike.
The tram slowed down at the stop for the area next to mine. There the streets smelled like apples, from the orchards right next to them, at the base of the hills. The orchard workers always smelled the best, like cider or apple pie. It was my favorite smell—I knew that.
The doors opened, forcing the scent of the apples to ride along the wind into our tramcar. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring it. But the peaceful feeling I got every time I smelled it were gone the second I opened my eyes and saw him. Had this moment happened a lot? Was it something I was remembering or just a feeling? I didn’t know, but I didn’t like it.
My stomach tightened and hurt in a way that I was unsure of, like the lightening bugs from the orchard hills were inside of me and making me tingle and spark. Or my innards had decided to change their locations. How could a stranger make me feel that way?
His green eyes flickered with something; I wanted to know what it was. He was thinking something maybe. Or confused. Or excited. But how? How could he feel those things when he looked at me? How could he m
ake me wonder anything?
My weak mind enabled him. It wanted to know what he thought as his lips played like my brother’s did when he was fighting a grin, while our parents got angry with him. The only difference was the green eyes looked like he was laughing at me or with me somehow. I could watch him forever. My forever that only ever lasted a day. Then I would forget him tomorrow.
I looked down at my shoes and took a breath, a breath I needed.
"You okay?" Amber nudged me.
I leaned back into the hard, plastic seat and nodded, "Yeah. Just think I might be coming down with something maybe. My tummy feels funny."
"Great, that means I’ll probably get it too. Whoa, that guy is cute," she whispered into my hair as she leaned toward me.
I looked up at her, "What guy?"
She rolled her dark eyes, "The cute one over there. Does he go to school with us? No, I don’t think he does. I swear I know him, but I don’t. Is it from school?" She nodded towards the green-eyed guy who made me feel sick.
I laughed and ignored her dangerous confession and questions, "What do you know about cute boys?"
Her smile turned mischievous, "I now stuff. Like Lyle Getty or Tyler McNeill, in class. They’re both so cute. Lyle is too sweet though—I don’t think I like that kind of boy. Tyler smiles and my stomach flips. Imagine finding out that he is a good pairing for you in the future?"
I shook my head, "No. He knows he's cute. He may forget everything else but he knows that. If you watch him, he spends hours looking at himself. If I wanted a guy, which I don’t, I would want him to look at me the way Tyler looks at himself." I blushed, “Lyle is sweet though. I like that his family always has the bushels of apples, pears, and cheese brought into the lunchroom for the kids without much. He always acts like it’s a job he has to do, but I know he watches for the people without any food. He is mindful of others and that’s attractive. You know, he does it a lot; I mean I’ve seen it enough to remember it. Whoever pairs well with him is a lucky girl.”
