The Haven

by Carol Lynch Williams

  She slipped into a chair and scooted up to the table in the seat next to mine. “Didn’t expect me, did you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Why hadn’t she told me about Planting Committee? I thought we talked about everything. Would she read my thoughts and answer? But she just gazed at the tabletop once she settled in her seat.

  “I wanted to talk about this spring’s planting,” Gideon said. “It’ll only take a couple of minutes. Then you can get on with whatever else you have to do.”

  “I have to read Lord of the Flies,” Abigail said, like she didn’t owe me an explanation. “I still haven’t written that paper on why Piggy deserved to die.”

  “Do you have the planting sheets, Daniel?” Gideon asked.

  “Yes.” Daniel dug around in a bag attached to his wheelchair, then handed a thin folder to Gideon. “I’ve logged that we’ve put in peas and spinach and onions already. There are Terminals working with the cold frames. Seedlings have been planted, as you know, and the…”

  Rubbing my palm in the bits of leftover soil, I wondered at Abigail. She gawked at Daniel. Her mouth looked funny. Her cheeks, rosy.

  Too many pink-faced Terminals in this room.

  What was so interesting about Daniel anyway? He looked like everyone else though he was big enough, I bet, to play soccer or football, or maybe even rugby, games we’ve seen the Whole play on Incredible Sports Disasters. Even with his legs missing, Daniel was wider than lots of the male Teachers. Strong arms, thick neck. If he lived long enough, he would be a huge adult.

  Why would Abigail concentrate on a male like that?

  “Is there something you want to add to the list, Shiloh?” Daniel asked.

  What did he want to know? I cleared my throat.

  “If there’s anyone who knows about food,” Abigail said, “it’s Shiloh. Don’t you?”

  A heater kicked on and warm air pushed the cold away.

  “I love to eat, if that’s what you mean.”

  “All Terminals do,” Gideon said.

  Now Gideon, Daniel, and Abigail waited for me to answer. My stomach turned. I pushed away from the table. “I like everything.”

  “How are the dreams?” Gideon asked.

  It felt like the world rotated in slow motion. Abigail’s eyebrows were raised.

  It’s inappropriate to mention the dreams. They’re private.

  “I don’t dream that often.” The lie coursed through me, large enough it could have filled the room. I racked my brain for food references from Of Mice and Men, the book I had just read. All I could think of was rabbits. “I’ve heard of blue potatoes. They’re native to South America. Could we try that? Or amaranth? It’s a grain.”

  Daniel wrote.

  “Jicama?” I said. “Tomatillos?”

  Something touched my ankle and I jumped, my stomach flipping.

  “Excuse me,” Gideon said. “What about tangelos? We have the tangerine trees already, and the orange and grapefruit trees. We could start something new.” He scooted closer to the table, bumping into me again. Why was he such a klutz? I wanted him to stop. Now. He made me sick.

  Again the outside door opened and this time Ms. Iverson came into the room. “It’s freezing out there. Sorry to be late.” She hurried to the desk. Relief flooded my body. It seemed my lung trembled as I pulled oxygen in. All I needed was to be obedient, I thought, licking my lips. “You finishing up the lists?” Ms. Iverson asked.

  Gideon nodded.

  “Dr. King wants something floral-ish. Maybe edible flowers? That’s what he says in a note he sent me today.” She addressed me. “Dr. King keeps the flowers in abundance here as a memory of his wife and child.”

  “Put that on the list,” Gideon said, and Daniel wrote it down.

  “Miss Maria said food with color. Like chocolate peppers and purple cabbage, things like that. Anyway, I’m here to send you back to the building for dinner. And to collect the paperwork, so get going—”

  A bell sounded from across campus. “See?” she said, like Ms. Iverson had made the bell ring. “I’ll get the rest of the Terminals from the greenhouses and send them in. You run along.”

  Good. I wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. But Gideon was quicker, pushing Daniel ahead of me.

  “Shiloh, wait,” Abigail said, but I didn’t slow my step.

  She came up next to me just as Daniel peered over his shoulder to where I walked and then back again to Gideon. Daniel seemed different, though I couldn’t say why. His mouth turned down and his eyebrows were knit together. He acted as though I had done something offensive.

  “Leave her alone, Daniel,” Abigail said. She walked close to me. Her mouth moved in that upward curve, and it spread across her face, making her eyes shine even though there wasn’t much light left in the graying sky.

  Now she was doing it. That unnatural look. When had she started contorting her face in that terrible way? What was it with everyone? “I’m so glad you’re here, Shiloh,” Abigail said. “I hoped you’d say yes.”

  While the stretched-out lips and the teeth showing in such a big way was uncomfortable to see on Abigail, when she spoke, the voice was her voice and it calmed me.

  “You should have told me,” I said, pulling in tight under my jacket. “You know we shouldn’t meet with males alone. And who keeps track of us? The whole thing makes me nervous.”

  Evening settled over the grounds, making the world glow-in-the-dark blue. Ahead of us the Main Building lights twinkled in the early dusk.

  “When I thought you’d be ready, I invited you,” Abigail said.

  I stopped in the cold, shivering. “No. You sent Gideon.” She was silent. “You didn’t tell me, Abigail. And we always do things together.”

  There was that mouth thing. “Will you forgive me? Now that we’re on the same team?”

  I shook my head. “Stop with the face contortions.”

  “Oh, the smiling? I’ll work on it. But when it’s just you and me or you and me and Daniel and Gideon, well, I may not be able to stop. Now, let’s go. I’m starving.” Abigail’s words were a whispery cloud. She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  We walked on, snow quiet.

  “How long have you been coming out here?”

  “A couple months. You were working kitchen duty.”

  “Okay.” Okay was the wrong word. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Abigail stopped, kicked at the ground, then said, “Gideon asked when Isaac left who I would choose. I said you.” The cold bit at my face. “Listen to him, Shiloh. He can save us. I know it.”

  Her lips didn’t move. Her words were a dream. Another dream I shouldn’t have.

  Then she was off, leaving me in the yard. I stood there, frozen from more than the weather. Watched her stop to say something to Gideon, who appeared in the doorway and looked over to where I stood. A wind came from the south, a little warmer. I trudged on, closer and closer to where Gideon waited with the door open. A few Terminals walked from other parts of outside into the building for dinner. There was little noise other than the wind.

  Why was I so unsettled? Why did I feel so left out?

  I slowed, leaving dragging footprints behind in the snow.

  “Are you coming?” Gideon asked, his voice hushed. I couldn’t see his expression. The hall light spilled out around him. Making him a shadow. Haloing his head.

  A black shadow. Hunched over. Running to the gazebo.

  My heart quickened. “Yes,” I said.

  My face felt like plastic, fake, as though it wasn’t my own. As though it belonged to someone else.

  Gideon swung the door wide. I passed him and hurried into the stone entry. He brushed close enough for me to feel his breath, warm, on my skin.

  “Sorry about Daniel. He’s moody.”

  Moody?

  What was this with everyone in this group? What was wrong with them all? I wanted to run. To leap away. All my nerves screamed for me to go.

  Gideon h
eld me back, grabbing for my arm, then clasping his cold hand on mine. For a second I thought I might vomit. I jerked away, clamped a hand over my mouth.

  “Meet me tonight, Shiloh,” he said, his voice low. “Meet me right here. We have things to talk about.”

  “What are you doing?” I pulled in the cold outside air, trying to quiet my nausea. Then I got right in Gideon’s face even though the nearness made me gag. “Every time you touch me, I get sick to my stomach. You say things that are wrong. At least keep your hands off me.”

  He nodded. “I can take care of that,” he said. “The nausea. The dreams. The obedience. I can tell you how to feel human. Meet me here, tonight. Midnight.”

  The desire to run slammed through me. It was a part of my cells. I must be a good Terminal. An obedient Terminal.

  “I’m not listening to you,” I said, and pushed past him, doing all I could not to shake as I walked away.

  I am not even asleep when I see him.

  He slinks in the room, slides across the floor, nothing but a shadow.

  Come on, Shiloh.

  Come with me.

  You’re nice to look at and I can help you with this.

  He sweeps his hand around and I see all my roommates. They are quiet. Dreamless.

  Only Abigail’s eyes are open. Unblinking.

  She watches from her bed. Not moving. Eyes glittering.

  Come on.

  We’ll leave.

  Cure the Terminals.

  Give our lives.

  Take your breath.

  He leans over my bed. His mouth is on mine. Soft. Warm. My stomach twists. He presses closer.

  Is all over me. Then sucks the air out of my lung and I am empty of my life.

  8

  I awoke, heart slamming against my ribs. It felt as though someone still pressed against me. I was sure I would die. Only the early-morning light seeping through the window convinced me I might be all right. My mouth was too dry. All the females slept. Abigail’s hair snaked off her pillow.

  I lay in bed for a long time. The next time I opened my eyes, Abigail was gone, Elizabeth was getting up, and Mary had gone in to shower. My dream stayed with me, a haunting.

  In the dining room, I reasoned there are worse ways to die than having your breath sucked from you. Like being eaten away until there was nothing left. Dying like many of the Terminals did, piece by piece.

  Abigail’s chair was empty.

  I sat down. Lined up the large spoon, small spoon, fork, and knife. Setting out my plate of food. Where was she?

  Being assaulted by Gideon? Maybe he made it a habit to attack females, leaping out of curtains. No, he was here, across the room. He sent me a slight nod, one I almost couldn’t see.

  Instead of acknowledging him, I set to eating my whole-wheat pancakes with mango sauce and fresh strawberries. I’d taken extra turkey bacon. Eating more might ease the queasiness in my stomach. I drank some cranberry juice and was contemplating seconds when Abigail came into the dining room, head bent, hair forward.

  Some of the Teachers watched her. There was a bad taste on the back of my tongue.

  Abigail dropped into her chair.

  “Where have you been?”

  “I slept in,” she said.

  I blinked at her lie. “That’s not true. You were gone before I even got up.”

  Abigail wouldn’t look at me, and right then I knew. She had met with Gideon last night. Without another word, she trotted off before the breakfast line closed down. Miss Maria waved Abigail over, fingers motioning in the air.

  Worry settled in my bones. He couldn’t get me, so Gideon got her. I wouldn’t be able to eat this bacon after all. And no seconds either, no matter how good it tasted.

  “What have you done?” I asked as soon as Abigail sat back down.

  She looked up from her plate. “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean.” My voice came out more harsh than I meant.

  Esther looked over at us. “Arguing? Terminals never argue.”

  “No, we’re not,” I said. “We’re discussing.”

  Abigail popped a strawberry in her mouth. She was so casual, she confused me. Did I imagine this? Maybe I didn’t remember as well as I thought. Maybe I hadn’t heard Gideon. Last night seemed distant. Almost part of my dream. I couldn’t quite tell the two events apart.

  The dining room hummed with the low sound of voices. Ms. Iverson made a movement for Abigail to hurry. Mr. Tremmel carried his tray back to the kitchen, then left with a few males.

  Esther and Martha headed off to class. The space near us cleared out, giving me the chance to speak.

  “You were with him,” I said.

  Abigail just chewed.

  “Weren’t you? Last night.”

  “With whom?”

  “You know what I’m talking about, Abigail.” The room felt too warm.

  “Let’s go, girls,” Ms. Iverson said. “We’ve got lots to do in class today.”

  I pretended I didn’t hear our Teacher, though my body wanted to respond, to put away my tray, get ready to learn, do what I was supposed to do.

  I swallowed the obedience.

  “What are you thinking? You know the rules. And you know the consequences.”

  Abigail shrugged. She lifted her chin a little. She wasn’t even ashamed. She didn’t even care that she’d broken the rules.

  “I wasn’t with Gideon,” she said. She sighed. “Look, Shiloh, it’s okay. I promise.” She shifted closer in her chair. “I’m not the same as before.”

  I couldn’t speak.

  “I’m different. Changed.”

  “Ill?” The word came out strangled.

  “New.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.” I put my hands on my ears, but Abigail had stopped talking and just ate.

  “Abigail. Shiloh. Time to go.” Ms. Iverson motioned for us to follow.

  Again I fought to not obey, but my body stood.

  “You have to listen.” Abigail’s face went from her normal, calm appearance to one that made my legs feel weak. It was like she had never meant anything more than whatever she might say right now.

  I tried to cover my ears again and gather my breakfast things, both at the same time. Only those who couldn’t leave the room without assistance remained.

  Ms. Iverson called from the doorway, “Eat in a hurry, Abigail. You have to get your nourishment before studies begin.”

  “Listen, Shiloh.” Abigail’s voice was urgent. “Trust Gideon.”

  “What?” The glass toppled from my tray and fell to the floor, shattering. Cranberry juice spread like blood. I knelt to pick up the bigger shards of glass. “Why do you have so much faith in him?”

  “He knows things, Shiloh,” Abigail said. “He has connections.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” I straightened. “There’s no saving us.”

  Ms. Iverson came over. How had she gotten to my side so quick? “Go to class, Shiloh. The Staff will clean up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I didn’t even look back when I left the room.

  * * *

  Images of documentaries I’d seen in history played in my head. Jonestown, Waco, Heaven’s Gate. There was that whole city not too far from here. All those Terminals gone. Terminals annihilated because they broke free of the school, went into society, and were wiped out by the Whole who didn’t think Terminals should mix with the free states. And not a thing was done to protect the Terminals.

  All of them, murdered.

  But

  we were safe here.

  I closed my eyes.

  There were awful things that could happen to us. Yes, what our Illnesses caused. But other stuff, too. Annihilation. I remembered the pictures of the bodies, some facedown, bloated, bleeding, limbs missing on many. Not one had survived. Even the youngest were dead. Flies crawling in their eyes and opened mouths.

  Haven Hospital & Halls kept Terminals from being murdered.

  I remembered the
crowds, the picketing on the other side of the wall.

  Did they want us gone, too? Want us dead? Annihilated?

  It only made sense they did. Dr. King told us often that the world doesn’t understand Terminals, that we’re protected by Haven Hospital & Halls. That this place is what we call it, a haven from an angry, uneducated world.

  I hurried, breaking another rule, leaving Abigail in the lunchroom, the broken glass on the floor, knowing that disobedience was far worse than anything Abigail or Gideon or Daniel could imagine.

  * * *

  “I waited for you.”

  The voice came from the curtains. Too familiar, even with me only hearing it once before. Too dangerous.

  “You didn’t show up.”

  I stopped but didn’t look at the curtains.

  “I’m not interested,” I said. “I don’t care what you have to say.” I clenched my hands so that I felt my nails in my palms. I hated this lie. Because I was interested. I was. And that caused the blood to rush through me, pounding in my ears.

  “It’s for you, Shiloh. Abigail wants you to have the gift of knowing.” Gideon’s voice sounded like syrup tastes. “All you have to do is listen. All you have to do is see.” He hesitated and then said, “And I want it for you, too. I want you to be with us.”

  “I never want to be with you.”

  “I understand.” There was a longer pause before Gideon spoke again. “But ask yourself a few questions, Shiloh. Why do we all dream like we do? Why isn’t the outside world allowed in? Why aren’t we allowed out?”

  “We’ll die if—”

  “I know their answers.” Gideon’s attitude was the same as when he had thrown the chair. Hostile. “I want answers for us. For Terminals. For you.”

  “We know why we’re here,” I said. My voice was insistent.

  “You’re programmed to know that, Shiloh. Think past class. Think past what you’ve been taught.”

  I swallowed. “I can’t.” I felt the fight in my muscles. I must follow. I must obey. I must not listen to anything that was against our belief system.

  “Daniel told her you wouldn’t do it,” he said. “Abigail begged that we include you. She said there’s a part of you that wants to be free of here.”