by Lauren Esker
Graceful as the rushing water in the creek, Noah leaped to the rocky beach at the water's edge and then trotted a few yards up the trail. He whisked around, his body language that of a cat who wanted to play.
"No more running for me, buddy," Peri laughed. "I'm all run out."
So they walked back up the trail together, the young woman with the huge predator padding along at her side. Despite his ponderous size, Noah's paws barely stirred the grass alongside the trail. As the trail grew steeper, Peri put out a cautious hand to rest on his shoulder. The supple muscles slid beneath his soft fur, smooth as silk. They reached the top of the ridge just as the lowering sun vanished beneath the peak of the mountain.
Peri turned to look across the valley at the mountain's shadow creeping up the far side. Above the shadow line, the trees were pink in sunset's light.
"I forgot how beautiful this place is," she said, almost to herself.
Noah's transformation made no sound, but when she looked around he was getting dressed beside the car. "If bad things happened to you here, that's gonna color your impressions of the place." He paused, half in and half out of his borrowed T-shirt. "Peri, you don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, but ... was there abuse? Because if so, I swear to you, I won't let them lay a finger on you while you're here, and once we're back in the city, I'll throw the book at the bastards."
"No." She leaned against the car and began to take off her running leg. "Nothing like that. I was just isolated and lonely. At first I believed all my dad's wild claims about the government poisoning us with fluoride in the water and covering up evidence of aliens. And then I started to realize it wasn't real ... at least most of it wasn't." She gave Noah a pointed glance. "And after that it was just kind of sad. I felt like I was trapped with a bunch of people I had nothing in common with. Or, okay, I'll be blunt—I felt like the only sane person in the loony bin. I didn't really like the adults or even the other kids. And they all must've thought I was one weird, angry kid."
Noah shrugged into the Roswell T-shirt and leaned over to brush back a straggling lock of her multicolored hair that had escaped the ponytail, stroking his finger down her cheek. "I bet you were a great kid. Smart as a whip, determined to do good in the world."
"Yeah, and now look at me." She snorted and spread her hands. "Running a conspiracy theory website and writing clickbait headlines to trick people into visiting it. Dad would be so proud. In fact, he probably is proud. And to think I wanted to be a serious journalist."
"You still could be."
"Yeah, except I'm sitting on the biggest story of the decade and I can't tell anyone. Even if I did, the only people who would believe me are the kind of people who read Tell Me More! and other sites like it." She rapped her fist on the sun-warmed side of the car. Already a chill was creeping into the air, making her want her jacket. "C'mon, let's get back to the compound before they tell the guards to shoot us on sight."
"They wouldn't do that, right?" Noah asked as they got in the car. "How paranoid are these people?"
"If they find out you're a fed? Pretty damned paranoid."
***
They parked at the farm in the mountains' cold shadow, with sunset flaming in the sky above them. As they walked from the car into the circle of cabins, carrying their grocery bags, pleasant scents of woodsmoke and cooking hung on the evening air.
Nostalgic longing fluttered somewhere behind Peri's breastbone. It wasn't her childhood that she missed, she knew, but rather an idealized version of it that had never existed. Living here had never been a rural idyll. She had felt isolated and trapped.
But there were pleasant memories too, and she was only now rediscovering them. Long lazy evenings in the peace of a place where the outside world rarely intruded ... the solitude of the woods, the tranquility of lying under a tree in the cow pasture with a book ...
It was a life she had no desire to go back to, and she still felt lucky to have gotten out of it when she hit adolescence, rather than suddenly finding herself a grown adult with no experience outside the compound. That was how people got trapped and ended up perpetuating the cycle, like Liam.
But it hadn't been all bad, and it was easier to remember the good parts now. The quiet solitude, the tall pines flanking the road, the brilliant clear sky above the mountains—all of it seemed to be filling up a reservoir deep inside her that she hadn't even realized was empty.
"Oh good, you're back," Ramona said breathlessly when they trooped in. She was pacing in the living room, jiggling the crying baby and wearing a bathrobe. "It's time to go to the community hall for supper—oh yes, thank you, put that in the freezer, please. And I need to change, and Wendy won't settle down—"
Peri handed her grocery bag to Noah, braced herself, and held out her arms. "Here. I'll watch her while you get dressed."
There was nothing in the world she wanted less than to hold a crying baby, particularly a baby half-sister she hadn't even known existed, but Ramona's face collapsed in an expression of profound relief. "Oh, thank you," she gasped, shoved Wendy into Peri's inexpert grasp, and dashed off to the bedroom.
Wendy, as if sensing that she'd been passed off to someone who didn't want to hold her, thrashed her arms and legs and screamed louder. She was heavier than Peri had been expecting, and a lot harder to hold onto.
"Oh, come on." Peri clutched the baby close to her chest in the hopes that she'd stop screaming if she wasn't afraid of being dropped. This only seemed to make her scream louder. "Stop laughing at me and do something," she told Noah darkly.
Noah turned, grinning, from putting the ice cream away. "I'm an only child. I've never even done any babysitting. You grew up here; didn't you have to deal with smaller kids then?"
"Some," Peri admitted. "I just wasn't that good at it."
As one of the girls in the compound, she'd felt smothered by the crushing weight of expectation to help out with womanly tasks like childcare and cooking, which was why she'd done her best to avoid those things as much as she could get away with, usually by running off to the woods whenever an unwanted chore seemed imminent. Now her childhood streak of stubbornness was coming back to haunt her, as Wendy struggled to escape her tentative grasp.
She tried holding Wendy against her shoulder and jiggling her as she'd seen older women do. The baby's flailing hands snatched at everything in reach. "Ow!" Peri protested when the strong little fingers seized her ear. Then Wendy got a grip on her hair. "Ow! Ow! Noah, if you don't stop laughing, so help me—"
"It's fascinating to see a fighter brought low by an opponent one tenth of her body weight."
"I would flip you off if I had a hand free. You think this is easy?" She managed to untangle Wendy from her hair and held the crying baby out to Noah. "You do it!"
That wiped the smile off his face. "Uh ... I mentioned I never even babysat, right?"
"But it's so easy," Peri said with a fierce grin. "Anyone can do it."
"Right. Give me that baby."
After experimentally switching the crying baby from arm to arm, Noah sat on the couch and held Wendy in his lap. She seemed to like that better; the wailing faded to hiccups. Peri sat on the couch beside him, pulled up the baby's top, and blew raspberries on the soft skin of her belly. The hiccups turned to watery giggles.
"So apparently we are actually good at this," Noah said. "Who knew."
"It's a team effort."
He laughed. "So what else do you do with babies? Can she stand up yet?"
"Not by herself, but I bet she can if you hold her up."
Noah picked up Wendy cautiously under her armpits and let her stand in his lap. She seemed to be capable of supporting herself on her fat, half-bent legs as long as Noah supported some of her weight, and she looked around curiously as Noah jiggled her gently in place. Her hair was wispy and blonde like Ramona's, clipped in a little tail on top of her head.
"Hi, Wendy," Peri said, waggling her fingers in a tiny wave, and was surprised when the baby looked at her with wide, light-c
olored eyes. The pale lashes were still matted with tears, but when Peri grinned at her and then made a face, she got a gap-toothed infant smile in return.
"See, that's your big sister." Noah flopped the baby's arm at Peri. "Wave to your sister."
Peri put two of her fingers in Wendy's fist. The chubby fingers closed instantly around hers. It gave her a wobbly, tender feeling in her chest, as long as she tried not to notice how sticky those little fingers were.
The door opened and slammed. "Ramona, where's—" The new arrival stopped in the act of taking off his hat. Frowned. Gave them a second look. "Peri?"
"Dad," Peri said in a neutral tone.
Noah scrambled to his feet, hastily tucking Wendy into the crook of his arm so he could free up a hand to hold out to the new arrival. "Mr. Moreland, sir? I'm Noah Easton. I'm very sorry to barge into your home, sir."
Peri held her breath, especially when her father looked at Noah for a long, startled moment. Please don't be rude, Dad. Please don't say something crazy. Please don't turn out to be horribly racist. Then her dad put out a hand and shook Noah's politely, and she let out her breath in a wheeze of relief.
"Well, you seem to be getting along with my daughter. Daughters, rather." He glanced at Peri, who got up off the couch. Her father started to smile at her, but hesitated when Peri didn't smile back.
Her father hadn't been there when they'd come in last night. This was the first time she'd seen him since a brief, awkward conversation at her college graduation. What did you say to a father you hadn't talked to in years? She wasn't sure if she wanted to hug him, shake his hand, or ignore him completely. From the way he was standing so uncertainly, she thought he might not know, either.
He still looked exactly like he had when she was a kid, a wiry guy with a small potbelly and an unruly mass of curly black hair, normally clamped under the wide-brimmed brown hat he was holding in one hand. Maybe there was a little more gray mixed into the black now, a few more lines on his face behind the round Lennon glasses and beard.
The most surprising thing was that she was as tall as he was. She hadn't remembered her dad was that short. He loomed so large in her memories, a towering, intimidating authority figure. Now she saw him as other people outside the compound must see him: an odd-looking little guy who needed a haircut.
"Ramona said you were here," he said at last. "I thought you might've taken off again."
"No, we're spending the night if that's okay."
"Of course it's okay. Stay as long as you want. It's good to have you back, kid."
"Did Ramona also tell you—" She hesitated before making herself forge on ahead. "There might be people after us. I was, um, a witness. To a crime. We were attacked in Seattle. That's why I came here."
"Peri." He took her by the shoulders; she had to try not to tense up with the same awkwardness she felt whenever she was around Ramona, the discomfort of being welcomed by people she didn't feel comfortable around. "It doesn't matter. You leave the outside world behind when you come here. It's always been that way. You're safe here."
Peri let out a shuddering sigh. She hadn't really thought her father would throw them out ... much. She still felt a knot in her stomach unclenching.
"They're dangerous people, sir," Noah put in.
"We have dangerous people here too, son." Her father smiled briefly before pulling Peri in for a quick, uncomfortable hug. The thought occurred to her that he might be feeling just as weird about meeting the grown-up daughter he hadn't seen in years.
Noah looked like he wasn't quite ready to let it go, but just then Ramona came hurrying from the bedroom with a breathless, "Henry, you're back!"
When she'd mentioned dressing for dinner, Peri had thought she meant putting on sweat pants and a shirt, basically the bare minimum not to walk naked through the yard. That was all anybody in the compound had bothered with when Peri was a kid, as far as she could remember. However, Ramona was wearing a flowered dress with a long, swishy skirt. She'd done up her hair and tucked a fake daisy behind her ear, even had put on a little makeup. Peri felt suddenly dowdy, even more so when she thought of the long skirt on the woman who had been talking to Liam earlier. It seemed the compound had changed since she was a kid, possibly not for the better.
"Do we get dressed up for dinner now, Dad?" She didn't mean it to come out as defensive as it sounded.
"Your mother likes to look good for her man." He put an arm around Ramona's waist and kissed her cheek. "Is there anything that needs carrying?"
Wendy made a whimpering sound, as if on cue. Ramona turned to take the baby from Noah. "There's a casserole in the kitchen. It just came out of the oven, so it'll be hot."
"We can get it," Peri offered. Anything to give her an excuse to avoid talking to her dad.
The casserole was in a big glass baking pan with aluminum foil over the top. Peri found a pair of oven mitts and passed them to Noah, who picked it up effortlessly. She still wasn't over how strong he was.
"Did that go well?" he whispered. The elder Morelands were talking in the living room. "I couldn't tell."
"Not bad, I guess," Peri whispered back. "No shotguns."
"I always consider that a plus."
Her dad appeared in the kitchen doorway before she could answer, clapping his hat on his head. "Are you two coming?"
"Coming," Peri chirped.
They trooped out into the yard. Above the mountains the sky was still sunset-tinted, with stars beginning to emerge in the night-purpled east—at least what could be seen of them; the compound's yard lights were brilliant, the ones on the hill not yet lit. Other people were out and about among the cabins; voices and laughter carried to them as the residents converged on the centrally located dining hall and community space.
She hadn't realized the building was so small. It was only one story and didn't have a bigger footprint than the surrounding cabins, though it seemed larger on the inside since there were no dividing walls. A long dining table took up most of the central space, and there was a wood stove at one end of the building with comfortable secondhand furniture around it, ratty couches and the like.
Peri had to stop in the doorway to gather herself. She hadn't expected memory to hit her so hard—had forgotten, in fact, how much time the community used to spend here, especially in the winter when it wasn't so pleasant to be outside. She didn't remember playing much with the other kids her age in the compound, but now she realized that she had actually spent quite a bit of time with them in here when she was very small. All the women with young children used to bring them here, a sort of informal day care with a rotating roster of caretakers.
She was surprised to see a big-screen TV in the corner opposite the stove. Back when she lived here, her dad thought the government was using subliminal messages in advertising to control people. Maybe he'd lightened up about it, or else he'd given in to pressure from the community to have something to do on long winter evenings other than play cards, drink, and get into fights. There used to be a playpen in that corner; she wondered what had happened to it ...
"Peri?" Noah murmured, and she came back to herself to realize that she was blocking the door. Her dad and Ramona were already inside. She avoided the creaky floorboard just inside the door by habit and showed Noah where to put the casserole dish with the rest of the serving dishes on the long plank table. Someone had built that, maybe her dad. It was still the same one from when she was a kid. She remembered the gnawed place on the leg where one of the compound's puppies had chewed it.
To her acute discomfort, the conversation had hushed when they came in, and now everyone was staring at them.
"Little Peri?" one of the older women said. "Is that little Peri?" An instant later Peri was enveloped in an unwelcome, smothering hug. "Peri, you've grown so much!"
I was a child the last time you saw me; I should hope so. "Thank you?" Peri tried, attempting to extricate herself while she tried to remember who this person was. Peri vaguely remembered calling her Mrs. M ...
something. Some first name starting with M. Mary? Martha? Maggie?
She managed to untangle herself, only to have Mrs. M start pawing at her ponytail.
"Oh darling, why did you chop off all your beautiful hair? What a terrible thing to do to yourself. She had lovely hair when she was a child," Mrs. M told Noah. "Absolutely lovely."
"It was not lovely, it was frizzy and the color of a mouse's butt." Peri finally managed to step out of reach, covering her ponytail defensively with her hands. "I like my hair this way."
"I went through phases like that when I was a little girl," Mrs. M declared. "Well, never quite like ... that—" She gave Peri's colorful ponytail and undercut another dubious look. "But it's not your fault; it's the culture. There's so much pressure on girls out there to have sex with boys, and drink, and get their good healthy bodies pierced in all kinds of unpleasant ways—you haven't got a piercing like that, do you, dear?"
"None of your business, and anyway, I'm twenty-six, not thirteen!" Peri gripped Noah's arm to make sure he stayed out of it—she could sense him moving forward, about to come to her defense. But just then her father rapped on the table with a big wooden spoon, and everyone, including Mrs. M, responded like well-trained dogs, filing instantly to their places at the table.
Noah put a sympathetic arm around her. "Where do we sit?" he murmured.
"Uh ..." Everyone had their assigned spot and clearly knew where it was.
Seeing her looking around, her dad, sitting at the head of the table, leaned over and tapped the two places next to him. The people sitting there, who she dimly recognized as one of the compound's long-time older couples, vacated promptly. "Come here, honey. You'll have to tell me about your life in the big city."
Peri took the indicated seat, and Noah, looking uncomfortable, sat next to her, while the displaced pair dragged up extra chairs at the other end of the table; they didn't appear bothered about it. She remembered this now: visitors sat next to her dad.
She'd never fully appreciated how weird this place was, back when it made up her whole world.
