Exchange Rate

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  “Kelly?” Bodey’s soft voice startled me.

  I jerked my head up, my sobs cutting off into hiccups and sniffs. Wiping my eyes with the backs of my hands, I forced a smile. “Sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t think about that.” Of course, I hadn’t cured my selfishness.

  He knelt beside me. His touch soft. “What’s the matter, doll?” His eyes searched my face, stopping when his gaze fell on my cut.

  Bodey’s smile froze and he reached up, his finger tracing my skin underneath the wound on my cheek. “What happened, Kelly?” His voice could cut glass. Fear at what he would do, could do, filled me. What if I lied? I could say I fell and hit a shelf or something. Or maybe that I hadn’t been paying attention and tripped coming home.

  But then how would I explain being home four hours early?

  I couldn’t lie to him. I couldn’t hide the truth. We needed to get back to how we were before we got to Freedom Pass. We hadn’t hidden anything from each other. “Ethan slapped me when I told him I wouldn’t sleep with him. He... he said he could get rid of you without any problems. And he and Rowan keep pushing that we’re not really married. So he slapped me and I kneed him. In the groin. Hard.” I pressed my lips together, surprised at the verbal onslaught I’d allowed to escape.

  Apparently, I’d wanted to tell him more than I thought. I hadn’t fought the opportunity even a little. Relief warmed me. I’d told him. Now we could leave. Just get our things and leave that place. John wouldn’t want to stay, not when he found out what had happened. Why would he? Why would we?

  Bodey didn’t say anything. His jaw tightened and his skin flushed with anger. I shrank from him, worried he might be mad at me.

  But I hadn’t done anything, except hurt Ethan. Would Bodey be worried about our position in the community? Would he want to stay in the relatively safe walls more than he’d want to stay with me?

  He jumped from the ground and rushed through the door.

  I stared after him a second. He hadn’t been mad at me. Oh, no. He was going after Ethan. Sprinting to follow, I tried to catch him as fast as I could.

  Bodey disappeared around the corner of the bunker, headed toward the hangar. I jogged after him, but he’d always been faster than me with his longer stride.

  Coming around the corner, I stopped at the sight of John holding Bodey’s arms. He softly shook Bodey to get his son to focus on him. John’s low volume barely reached me but got louder as I closed the distance. “Tell me what happened? What’s going on?”

  I hung back a few feet, aware that my cheek might not look good. Bodey’s hands moved as he spoke, his tone reaching me but not his words. John glanced at me once or twice and nodded. His own jaw tightened.

  Bodey pushed past John, stomping the path I’d run not long before.

  John glanced at me over his shoulder and followed his son. “Come on, Kelly. Let’s get this mess straightened out.”

  But it wasn’t a mess. Things were clear. I’d been assaulted, attacked, whatever you wanted to call it and my husband wanted vengeance. What would make him feel better? Make me feel better?

  Escape.

  The hangar not far, we picked up our pace when Rowan emerged from the door and met Bodey on the path.

  Bodey’s hands were clenched and Rowan looked impeccably calm. As John and I got closer though, it was evident Rowan’s control was barely managed – his jaw muscle ticked under his narrowed eyes.

  “What’s the problem, Bodey?” Rowan crossed his arms, focusing on my husband and ignoring John and me.

  “Your son hit my wife.” Bodey thrust his finger toward the hangar, the muscles in his arms tight. I’d never seen him so angry, even when he’d wrestled with Charlie.

  “According to Ethan, she provoked it.” Rowan didn’t even acknowledge my presence, just settled back onto his leg set a little behind the other. He shrugged. “Sometimes a smack or two is necessary to keep women in line.”

  To keep women in line? What had happened to people? A smack or two?

  Bodey huffed, arms akimbo. “There is nothing bad enough to warrant hitting a woman. Nothing. And she’s my wife, not his. Do something about what happened and do it now, or I will.”

  Rowan stared into Bodey’s eyes for almost a minute, but Bodey didn’t back down with his shoulders hunched forward and his arms tight in front of him. Finally breaking the standoff, Rowan jerked his head in a semblance of a nod. “We’ll have a council deal with it. Get to your shifts.”

  “I don’t work ‘til tonight. And Kelly isn’t working with Ethan anymore. You put her in the medic clinic full time or somewhere else. No more messing around.” Bodey pulled his head back, watching Rowan like a mongoose and cobra.

  Rowan lifted his eyebrows. “I think that goes without saying.” Relief that I would be away from Ethan filled me. Maybe I could tolerate Freedom Pass a little more with him out of my day-to-day routine.

  Bodey turned and wrapped his arm around me, leading me back to our bunker. John followed, staying silent. At our door, John grabbed Bodey and hugged him, long and hard. “You did good, kid. I’ve got to get back to work. Have another couple hours to go. See you guys in a little bit, okay?” He nodded at me, trying not to focus on my cheek and eye. Then he turned and walked back the way we came.

  I sighed. I didn’t get to have Bodey nights, but I would take a couple hours right then with him.

  He took my hand and asked shyly, “Want to hang out with me for a while?”

  “Yes.” We hadn’t spent time together in so long. I felt like I didn’t know him. But then he smiled. The first smile I’d seen since we arrived. Once he smiled, I remembered him.

  He was my Bodey. My protector. My love.

  I’d take those couple hours. A small part of me was happy Ethan had hit me. When he tried pulling Bodey and I apart, he’d only managed to push us closer.

  ~~~

  Fall came faster than any other year before – at least as far as I remembered in nineteen years. The trees turned and sweatshirts no longer kept us warm between bunkers and buildings. Grass browned and then the rains started, dripping from everything in sight, soaking the air. Between the chilly humidity and the skin-biting cold, I couldn’t get warm.

  Two months passed slowly as I worked to avoid Ethan and keep my head down. My new job placed me in the kitchens with Cammie who had taken the place of another woman who’d stopped showing up to work.

  Autumn abandoned us when the snow flurries came in, the dry bite of the winds created a longing for the humid cold again.

  I didn’t know anyone’s names and people avoided getting to know me. Even Cammie wasn’t extremely easy to talk to. We generally worked in silence, but together, like we knew what the other wanted without really having to speak. As long as she didn’t try groping me or kissing me like Ethan had, we worked well together.

  So while I worked in medic in the mornings with Cammie, after she’d put in an early day, we would walk together to the kitchens to help there for the dinner meal. The best thing about working with Cammie was she didn’t expect more from me than she was willing to give. That, and she let me sample every dish we worked on together.

  My fatigue hadn’t gone away and I struggled with aching muscles and joints. John was worried I was sick. I was worried that I was too stressed out but over what? It wasn’t like I had bills to pay or Ethan chasing after me. Well, that wasn’t true. He followed me everywhere, like I would somehow change my mind and he wanted to make sure he didn’t miss it.

  Cammie rolled the flour and egg dough on the granite countertop. Super fine flour we’d ground for over an hour sprinkled over the gray surface. Her forearms rippled as she kneaded the large roll. “This is my mother’s recipe for gnocchi. The trick is the finest flour you can get.” She shrugged. “But you can make it with coarser flour as well. It just doesn’t have the same texture.” She nodded toward a large pot, while she pushed and pounded the dough. “Stir the soup, will you?”

  I wiped my hands on my apron. Cros
sing to the stove, I lifted the lid with a towel so I didn’t burn myself. I grabbed the handle of a large spoon resting on the side of the stovetop. A waft of unstuffed cabbage roll soup hit me in the face. The sweet acidity of the tomatoes turned my stomach. Whirling to a nearby garbage can, I threw up my lunch into the green container.

  In a second, Cammie stood beside me as my stomach worked to empty its contents. The bitter contents spurred on a chain reaction and the vomiting returned for another round.

  I braced my hands on the sides of the can, gasping for air when I finished. “I’m sorry. I haven’t been feeling well lately.” We rarely talked about our complaints. Every time I even felt negative thoughts coming on, I stamped them down. Bodey, John, and I all worked hard to keep our roof. I didn’t want to bring any more attention to us and risk our safety from the weather and starvation than I already had with Ethan and the inventory position.

  Even I had pushed the assault event from my mind with every blast of freezing air when I walked outside and every time our meals were a little bit late and dull hunger bit into my upper stomach. Maybe my strength and principles would return with the warmth of spring, maybe I could be myself again, and not trade who I was for safety, food, and normal colored skin – untinged with blue from the cold.

  And yet, there I was, vomiting. If it was a flu, it better go away.

  Cammie placed the back of her hand on my forehead, moving her cool palm to feel behind my neck. “You don’t have a fever. How often do you throw up?”

  “This is the first time. I’m usually just tired and achy, you know?” I stood straight, arching my back and rubbing my lower spine. My mouth tasted sour. I moved my tongue and tried swallowing, but the taste prevented me from working too hard.

  Cammie handed me a glass of water and I drank it thirstily, never more grateful for a cleansed palette.

  I lowered the empty glass. “Sorry, no one else seems to be sick, so I hope it’s just ‘cause I’m tired or something.” I sighed.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Cammie ducked her head, turning to the sink to wash her hands.

  “Of course.” I drank more water, like the stuff could disappear any second.

  She turned off the water and glanced at me while drying her hands with a rough white cloth. “When was your last period?”

  I waved my hand. “Psh. I haven’t had a period in almost two years. Not since before all this started. I know what you’re going to say, I might be pregnant, but Bodey and I haven’t... um, done it normally – once. I would know, if I was pregnant.” Wouldn’t I? We’d even tried the pull-out method which hadn’t been easy according to Bodey.

  “What’s ‘normally’ mean?” She cocked her head, watching me as she wiped the counter and her hands.

  “Like, he, um, he pulls out.” I shrugged. No big deal, just talking about sex with a woman I barely spoke with, just worked with day in and day out. No big deal.

  Cammie stopped moving, holding the towel in her hands and staring at me. “Let me get this straight. You’re married at a super young age and you’ve only had pull-out sex? That’s it? And you don’t have a period?”

  I nodded. When she repeated it back to me, I sounded stupid and naïve. But I wasn’t. How could we get pregnant with an incomplete act? How was that even possible? My sex education came from Mom’s clinical explanation of how things worked to make a baby. She’d never said things would feel good or that I wouldn’t want him to stop. She’d just said, this is how babies are made and that was that.

  Sex-Ed in school was non-existent because the religious parties and political parties couldn’t agree on what was acceptable to teach and what wasn’t. So they dropped the classes completely, funding instead a “How I Can Help My Government” class.

  I rummaged through my memory for something, anything, which would indicate our method wouldn’t work. But it made sense. I nodded, confident in our actions. “Yes, I don’t know how we could be pregnant with all the precautions in place – or things in our favor.”

  “Oh, honey.” She sighed which ended in a half-laugh. “Look, this is how effective your pull-out method is. I’m a pull-out baby and my husband is a pull-out baby. Most Catholic families have one or two extra babies because they don’t believe in birth control. Did you even try to find condoms?”

  I tucked my chin to my chest. Oh, yes. “Yeah, that was fun, let me tell you.” I didn’t want to get into the things Bodey and I had done with gentle urging from John to prevent pregnancy.

  “Any other symptoms? You said you were tired and now nauseated. Anything else?” She pounded the gnocchi with a balled fist.

  “Yes, sore breasts, sore joints and muscles, hungry and then not hungry. I get hot and cold like a fever.” I shrugged, dusting the counter with more flour. “See? All the symptoms of the flu, except the chest soreness, which is abnormal, but I think it’s because they’re growing. I finally have access to food, too.” I snapped my fingers. “I was starved for so long, that’s probably why my period stopped. That’s all that’s wrong with me. I used to be iron deficient, and I bet I still am.”

  “But you’ve had healthy food for a few months now and your period hasn’t returned.” She arched an eyebrow at me and looked away.

  Cammie tore off pieces of the dough and set them aside. After the large ball had been torn down into small bits and she’d cleaned up her area, she faced me, worry lining her cheeks and around her eyes. “I’m going to ask you a very important question. How you answer is life-changing, so take a minute and think carefully about what you say.” She waited for my nod and then she inhaled deeply. “Do you want to keep this baby?”

  Did I? I wasn’t even sure what a baby represented. The child would be mine and Bodey’s, another concrete brick in our family foundation. But was the world a place I wanted to bring a baby into? Things couldn’t be more crazy and unstable.

  But what was I saying? If I was pregnant, there was no way I wouldn’t want the baby. I would never agree to get rid of it. I’d never been religious, but I had respect for life. And if I was pregnant, the baby would be a piece of Bodey and nothing on earth would make me get rid of that.

  I swallowed, my skin clammy. Nodding, I met her gaze square on. “Yes. If there’s a baby, I want it.”

  She searched the empty commercial kitchen and then motioned me toward her. Once I got within inches of her, she grasped my wrists and whispered close to my face. “You need to listen very carefully. They aren’t kidding when they say there’s only room for two-hundred. That’s it. And your baby will upset the number in your household. If you want to keep this baby, we need to get you some herbs to diminish the symptoms and you need looser clothing. Do whatever you can to hide any evidence of a pregnancy.” Her words tumbled out and I struggled to catch them.

  “Why? What harm can a baby do?” I bent toward her, waiting for an answer that would make sense.

  “Sh.” She grabbed the handle of a wicker basket and pulled me along with her. “Not here. Let’s gather some plants.” We stopped for a brief moment at the hooks by the door and drew on our oversized jackets and zipped them up.

  I followed her – not sure if it was willingly or not. We fell into step beside each other once we got outside. She held the basket in the crook of her elbow and didn’t speak as we headed toward the main gate. The only entrance and exit.

  What was she going to do? Make me leave? In the middle of winter?

  My breathing hitched as we got closer. The guards moved inward on the towers and watched us, guns slung over their shoulders. I could scream, run away, or wave to them for help. She’d leave me out in the forest, in the snow, and I wouldn’t be able to escape Shane, if he showed up because of tracks in the snow. I’d die of starvation or hypothermia.

  They’d never let us out. I had nothing to worry about, because they’d shoot us on sight for trying to leave – during our shifts! That had to be the biggest sin in the compound – along with having sex or whatever Rowan deemed was inappropriate.


  The closer we got to the gate, the more closely the guards watched us. I stepped closer to Cammie, using her taller, broader frame to protect me from view of the guards as well as from the wind.

  Pulse racing, my gaze darted every direction as I searched for help, someone to save me, someone to pull me back inside, someone to make sure I didn’t get shot for trying to leave.

  We slowed by the first tower, men staring down at us. Cammie wiggled her fingers and pointed at her basket. “I need some stuff guys, let us through, please.”

  For a second, I could picture all the guns pointed at us, the blood spraying as bullets rained down.

  But then, the gates swung open. All three.

  My jaw slackened as I moved with her, but I kept my lips shut. I’m not sure how she did it, but Cammie had just walked from the compound without anyone trying to stop her. I glanced behind us.

  Nobody followed us or tried to stop us.

  The men in the towers turned after we’d passed and closed the gates. They shut with a cold finality.

  But we were going back in, right?

  The snow crunched beneath our feet. Usually we could see our breath as it froze in mid-air, but my stomach hurt from holding my breath and walking at the same time. I wanted to run. What if we could just leave? What if we were fine?

  No one shot at me from the woods. Maybe Shane and his gang weren’t waiting for me. I couldn’t let my guard down though. “Can anyone leave like that? Rowan said people couldn’t leave, but that... that looked like you left – we left, you know?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, almost tripping beside her as we walked on a path into the woods outside the snowy gravel perimeter.

  She held her finger to her lips for a moment. “Sh. Just wait until we’re in the woods.” She held a steady determined pace, like she hadn’t a care in the world.

  But we were out. I could breathe. The air didn’t have an aura of impending doom. Why hadn’t I noticed how trapped I’d felt? Even knowing Shane could be out there or someone else who might want to hurt us, I didn’t feel as claustrophobic as I did inside. I wanted to run and jump and dance.