by Pam Jernigan
Leo nodded. "Books... are important."
"Well, I think so," she replied. "Why do you? You said you couldn't read."
He looked closer. The little squiggles had meaning, but they refused to speak to him. "I can’t." He shook his head. "Just feel important."
"You probably used to be able to," Karen guessed. "Before they turned you Mindless. That sucks."
He had known how to read, yes. He used to read. A lot. Old images swam into focus. Misty memories of himself holding books in his hands. Reading. Some of the visions held an echo of enjoyment. Others had little emotional content, only a sense of determination. Significance.
He heard Karen wander off, but ignored her for the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating, searching. He had remembered his name. Surely there were other things he could find, if he looked hard enough… but the harder he chased, the more elusive the remnants of his past became. Hiding in the darkness of his mind.
“Hey, Leo,” Karen called, and he opened his eyes. “Come see what I found.”
Karen was brightly lit and present and much easier to focus on. He abandoned the attempt to remember. For now.
Leo found Karen in the kitchen, staring into a tiny room with shelves. A closet? No, not quite right. Pantry. She'd set the lamp on a countertop.
"So they left us some food," she said. "The boxes aren't safe. But the mice and bugs couldn't do much more than nibble at the labels of the cans. We can't heat anything, I'm afraid. But," she looked sideways, flashing him a smile, "I found a can opener; they left it on the counter with a note, of all things." She held it up for him to see before turning it towards herself and reading, "For whoever needs the canned goods - good luck and God bless. That was nice of them, don't you think? Anyway, cans plus can opener means we're doing pretty good."
She opened two cans of baked beans, then produced spoons from a drawer, and gave him one of each. He sniffed it, and attempted to eat, although he wasn't especially hungry. Because Karen had given it to him. He was clumsy with the spoon, but managed to consume a third of it before losing interest.
She nodded approval. "Good job. I know you guys don't eat a lot. That's gotta be the bright side to the whole Mindless thing. I always thought eating took way too much time and effort."
He shrugged, the beans sitting uneasily on his stomach, and set the can down on the table, content just to be there with her as she finished her meal.
#
Karen eyed Leo as she finished her can. He remained a mystery, and she realized they hadn’t talked much about him. “What do you know about yourself?” she asked, curious.
He looked away and shrugged.
“Nothing?”
“Can’t… remember much.” He turned back towards her. “Only this week.”
“Really? Your whole life before then is a blank?”
“Confused… cloudy…” He shrugged again and summed it up. “Mindless.”
“But this week is different,” she persisted. “I mean, even in the past few days I’ve seen you improving. What changed?”
“Met you.” He met her eyes.
There had to be more to it. Because, wow. “Nothing before me? Wait, didn’t you say the library felt important? That was before you met me.”
He was silent for a moment, looking away - gathering his thoughts? She waited.
“There was a place,” he finally said. “Big building. Open middle, big rooms. Lots of us there.”
“Huh.”
“Started… thinking… there. A little.” He looked sideways at her.
She smiled. “I’m glad you did. You seem to know English pretty well.”
Another shrug. “I hear a word… sometimes understand. Easier than speaking.”
The teacher in her pondered that. “So, if I asked about… clothes for sleeping, you wouldn’t know the word?”
He shook his head, brows slightly furrowed.
“But if I say pajamas, then you know what they are.”
After a pause, his eyes widened. “Yes.”
She smiled. “You haven’t lost everything, then. Just need to be reminded.” They would have to work on vocabulary. Tomorrow. “I guess Borsa’s not entirely delusional. Evil and crazy, but not stupid. I don’t know about his formula, but obviously it’s possible for you to, well, start thinking. And remembering. How about that other guy, the one who got the injection? Did he wake up, too?”
He nodded. “Told him not to show it.”
“And he understood you?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Yeah, you know, when you got that cage door open today…” she paused, smiling helplessly in remembered enjoyment. “That was awesome, by the way, that you figured that out. Did I say thank you? You saved me.”
He shrugged, meeting her eyes, his expression clear and content. “Save each other.”
“Yeah, I guess we do.” For a few days, at least. Don't go there, Karen. Deal with this one day at a time. “Anyway, Mr. Red Tie wasn’t acting Mindless, I noticed - he was helping you push the others out of the cage.”
“Jamal.”
She frowned. “What does that mean?”
“His name,” he supplied. “Jamal.”
Her eyes widened. “So Borsa really was onto something with that formula of his.” There had to be a way to use that, somehow. Without killing any more hapless test subjects. On the other hand… “Jamal still attacked the camp guys, though.” Smart and peaceful, like Leo, was one thing; smart and aggressive was another. And Dr. Borsa was obviously aiming for semi-smart and violent. Results mixed but encouraging, she thought ironically, remembering his lab notes.
“They had… much fear.” His voice was quieter than normal. Regretful.
Well, if the Mindless liked going after scared people, that would explain why none of them had so much as glanced in her direction. By the time they’d gotten out, she’d been semi-hysterical with relief. She smiled at him again. “I didn’t need to be scared.”
He didn’t answer, and the silence started to be uncomfortable. Yeah, time to change the subject. "So, guess what else I found?"
#
Leo didn't even attempt to guess, but she apparently didn't expect him to, because she continued smoothly, "A pack of cards. So I want to play cards."
After they disposed of the mostly empty cans, Karen led him into the living room. She held up a little rectangular package, which he regarded doubtfully. "Don't know how."
"Yeah, I figured," she said, cheerfully. "That's okay. You can match shapes, right? You're smart, Leo, you've just ... lost a bunch of symbols. And we can manage without them. So, let me teach you how to play Go Fish."
The goal, she explained, was to match four little rectangles with the same shapes on them. Different colors, though. It took a while for him to get the hang of the game, but he kept trying. It ended up being almost fun.
While they played, they talked. Sitting together on the floor, looking at cards, it was easy for him to ask her things. She even answered things he didn't ask.
“At first, before I knew your name, I called you ‘Sweatshirt Boy’ in my head,” she confided.
“That’s okay.” He looked down at himself. It was still something specific to him. “Name is better.”
“Got any of these?” she asked, holding up a card to show him. “Yeah, with my kids… I always try to remember their names. It’s real important for them to have grown-ups know their names.”
Leo nodded, searching through the cards he held. He knew he liked it when Karen called him by his name. It was much nicer than ‘specimen’ or ‘creature’. He found one that matched and handed it to her. “What kids?”
“My preschool class. It’s only the little kids - four or five years old, usually. It depends on how fast they learn. I only have them until they can read and move up. I started helping in high school. Been teaching the past two years.” She paused. “I miss my kids.”
The love
was back, softer now, muted but unmistakable. He sighed, savoring it.
“It’s funny. I get new kids all the time. And at first, I don’t even like some of them. Just between you and me, some of them I actively dislike. But I work with them, and get to know them, and… by the time they’re ready to leave, I hate to let them go.” She laughed, lightly, holding up a card so he could see the symbol. “That used to surprise me. My class - they drive me nuts sometimes, but, well, these days, kids have it pretty rough, and it’s not their fault the world is falling apart.”
Leo inspected the cards he was holding, finding one match. He handed it to her.
She smiled and held up another card.
"Go... fish," he said. He didn't understand what it meant, exactly, despite her attempt to explain, but he understood it in terms of the game, which was close enough.
She made a face at him and pulled a card from the deck. "Your turn," she announced.
He inspected his cards, trying to decide which one to show.
“Jake says it’s not even preschool, just daycare.” Her sense of grievance was strong, and he shifted position. Jake was her boyfriend. The name had less emotional weight than Katrina’s, though. "Somewhere to park the kids while the parents work, but I teach them things, Leo. Stuff they need to know." Leo believed that, but did she? Her voice had been louder but her emotions more conflicted, tainted with doubt. Now they shifted to regret. "They need me."
“Why leave them?”
“Didn’t want to.” She stared at her cards, picking at the corner of one. “Katrina had this plan... she was determined to go, and I couldn’t let her go alone.”
“Protect.”
She nodded. “I thought I’d get her home safe or die trying.” She grinned wryly at him. “I mean, I'm glad there were other options, but being out here on my own? Totally unexpected.”
He’d never expected to meet her, either. He hadn't expected much of anything. Even two days ago he couldn’t have imagined being here, with her. “What came out for?”
She shrugged, her mood darkening. “Books. Research. Well, that’s what Jake and his friends were after.”
The deaths at the library had been great for him, but must have been awful for her. Those had been people - people she knew. That hadn’t been real before. He looked down, amazed that she wanted anything to do with him.
“He had a couple of books already by the time you guys showed up, so there’s that. Bright side,” she added, with determined cheer, “I got tons of pictures of Borsa’s notes. Maybe Jake can use something. That would make all this worthwhile. Assuming I can get home.”
“You will,” he said. Her goal was to get home. It would be his goal as well - to see her safely home.
She looked across at him and a soft smile touched her lips. "Thanks." After a quiet moment, she seemed to shake herself a little. "Are you going to ask for a card, or what?"
He picked a card at random and showed it to her.
Karen grumbled and handed him two of the same kind.
Leo added them to the other two he already had. Then he realized - that was a set. Wasn't it? One card for each of his fingers. Carefully, he pulled them together and laid them down, face up, looking to her for approval.
Karen watched him and grinned. "See? I told you you could do this."
He decided that he enjoyed knowing how to play a card game.
After that, Karen named the symbols as they played, and Leo worked at remembering - relearning. She won the game, but that was okay. The soft pink glow of satisfaction emanating from her made him happy. He wished it would last forever.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Karen yawned behind her hand, the weight of the day pressing on her. She picked up all the cards and reorganized them into a mostly neat pile. “Okay, that’s it for me. It’s been a tough week and I’m tired. I didn't find any bedrooms on this floor. So unless you found some...” she trailed off, glancing at him.
He looked unsure; maybe it was a vocabulary thing.
She shrugged. “Well, I’ll go exploring now. I need a room with a bed in it,” she explained. “Because I like to sleep, and I like to sleep on a soft surface.” She stretched and stood up, grabbing the lantern.
Leo watched her. Waiting for an invitation?
She hesitated a moment, chewing her lip. It seemed rude to leave him there, in the dark, if she didn’t have to. “You coming with me?”
His expression cleared, and he stood, following her up the stairs.
What did you do that for, Karen? Did she really just invite a guy to follow her into a bedroom? Not that he was a regular guy, of course. For one thing, the Mindless were sexless, too, as far as anybody knew. Which was reassuring, she told herself firmly. Not disappointing. Although Leo wasn’t nearly as Mindless as he used to be. But still.
Anyway, he’d done nothing but protect her. He’d just spent an hour playing a silly card game with her, for heaven’s sake. She could trust him. Well, why not? Heading up those stairs alone to the darkened second floor creeped her out, anyway. Good enough reason to invite him along.
The stairs opened out onto a short hallway, with several doors leading off it. Including one that opened to a powder room. The plumbing didn’t work but her canteen sufficed to get her a little cleaner. In a drawer she even discovered a toothbrush, still in the packaging. When she finished, she got Leo to brush his teeth, too, trying not to dwell on how many years it might have been since that had last happened. Maybe being Mindless protected you from cavities, but still. Ick.
She poked through all the rooms; the master bedroom seemed to be her best bet. The bed was large, and the sheets didn’t appear to be dirty. A little musty-dusty, but not too bad. A wool blanket was folded across the bottom, too, and she promptly spread it over the sheets.; the temperature had already started dropping. She sat on the edge of the bed, checking for the softness of the mattress. Not bad.
She looked up at Leo, who was studying the carpet. “This one’ll do.”
His eyes shifted back towards hers for a second before sliding away again. “For… both?”
Crap. Should have seen that one coming. “Um, no, how about… you be on the floor? If you even want to stay in here, I mean. You said you don’t sleep much, so… if you want, you could go find another room. Even leave the house although I’d rather you didn’t.”
He shook his head, looking more relieved than insulted. “Floor… is fine.”
“Okay, good. Um…” Looking around, she tried to think whether they needed to do anything else; sleep was starting to overtake her. “We locked the house, right?”
He nodded, sitting himself down on the floor and lying down beside the bed.
She kicked off her shoes, then pulled off her jacket, slinging it onto the bedside table. The t-shirt and jeans weren’t going anywhere. She wasn’t a fan of sleeping in her day clothes, but with a guy in the room… yeah, not getting undressed. She extinguished the lantern; no sense wasting the fuel.
They'd have to investigate the house’s closets in the morning when there was enough light to see properly; she might find clothes for her and Leo both. Clean clothes, what a concept. She slipped under the covers and tried to arrange the pillow.
It felt natural to lay on her left side, facing him. Moonlight seeped into the room, and now that her eyes had adjusted she could see Leo.
He looked back at her, almost happy. It seemed oddly significant as the silence lengthened.
“I never told anyone this,” Karen said softly, glancing at him, braver in the quiet dimness. “Not even Katrina… But…” She trailed off.
He attempted to smile. “I won’t tell.”
She laughed a little, then confessed. “That trip to the library… I kinda wanted to save the world.” She shrugged. “For the kids, you know? The adults, they remember what the world used to be like. The kids have no clue. They’re gonna grow up thinking this is all there is, and it’s not. I wanted to ge
t... travel guides, or nature photography, or even fiction. Just so they can have something to hope for, to dream about. Something to motivate them to keep fighting, keep looking for a cure. They deserve more, we all do. Mindless included, come to think of it. I don’t know how to do that, but… I wanted to try. It was stupid.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Why was it stupid? Because I’m a glorified babysitter, Leo. Jake might save the world - he’s a biologist like Borsa. Katrina’s smart, she might discover a cure. Me? I wipe runny noses and sing the alphabet.” She flopped onto her back, staring at the ceiling.
“You love them,” Leo said, barely loud enough for her to even hear. “You… help them grow. That’s important.”
She had no clue what to say to that. “Well, anyway. Goodnight, Leo.”
Softly, he said, “Goodnight, Karen,” without even any pauses between syllables.
Finally, someone who thought what she did was important. That she was important. The realization did funny things to her heart, warmed something that had long been cold. She was really going to miss him.
#
Leo lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling. Karen’s emotions had diminished and disappeared as she went to sleep, leaving him alone with his memories. So many moments to cherish today. Like how wonderful it had felt to hold her hand. Just simple skin-to-skin contact, but with so much meaning. He’d started to believe that she no longer saw him as a monster, but as a person.
There had been that moment of fear on the road, but he didn’t hold it against her. And that amazing sensation when she laughed. Best of all, he’d spent half the day with her, interacting with her. Not just watching.
He wondered what was happening back in the camp. What had happened to Jamal. Or to the girl who’d driven the truck - Pip. He didn’t have enough life experience - or remembrance of it - to even begin to guess.
His first indication of something wrong was a trickle of returning emotional energy from Karen. Not strong, but definitely fear. He sat up, looking around for a threat. Nothing. He looked at her and saw that her eyes were closed. She was sleeping, but stirring under the sheets, her expression unhappy.
