Daughters of the Mayflower Universe: One

by Celie Wells

  “Counseling!” I gasped. The very thought of emotional re-education made my skin crawl.

  “No one forced me to do anything but leave the Pavilion.”

  “But most of all, what I want is for you to take this opportunity to choose something more for your life. This whole mess gives you a rare chance to remake your life. I want you to ask yourself, is this life still what I want.” He knelt on the floor, beside the old couch pleading the talking points he and Hess rehearsed.

  I stood up and shoved my bruised arms back inside the heavy leather day suit. “It was a mistake for me to come home first. After mom's hysterics and now your calm, whatever this is. I can't be here,” I whined.

  “What did you envision when you walked in that door, Doodle? What are we not doing for you?” I threw my arms up in the air and leaned back against the doorway.

  “I didn't expect to walk into this house. I didn't think beyond one more step forward. I kept walking in the direction the compass told me to go.”

  My father handed me a vitamin drink, cap already loosened, and a warm washcloth to wipe my face. I grabbed them both appreciatively and paced the room, wiping dirt off my skin.

  “A medical center maybe,” I took a long gulp of the cold liquid and let it sink to the bottom of my stomach. “I guess I expected to be found half-dead and revived in some outskirt township. Maybe wake up in a sterile room with teary-eyed people, asking me questions. Like you see in the movies.”

  My father rested his hands on his hips. A motion that was usually followed by the phrase 'it's time to leave' or 'clean up your mess.' “Jason is on his way back from the armory.”

  “Then, he'll be here in less than an hour. And I still need to see Blue Bell's family—they must be anxious for information. I'm much stronger than I thought I could be, Daddy. I'm not broken or injured, and nobody hurt me. I'm not as weak as everyone is telling me I should be.”

  “No one wants you to be weak, least of all me, Sweetheart.” My father looked at the floor.

  “I don't want to be angry with you, Daddy. I know of all the people in my life, you will always help me.”

  “I can take it Doodle, yell at me, hit me. Punch me right here in the stomach,” my father demanded, taking the now empty bottle and wet cloth from my hands. “You can be as angry as you like. Those men took you from me. I let you go out into the world, Doodle. I'm to blame for all this.”

  “My chance to punish anyone came and went. The young man who took me stood in front of me at the edge of a cliff and apologized. I let him cut away a lock of my hair before walking off in the other direction.

  “Noah believed he was saving me and that everyone he left behind that night was already dead. He believed in his mission completely. They all treated my trip back home like I was walking towards my death.” I was almost in tears. No one here would ever understand what it was like to turn away from people who wanted me to stay so badly.

  “Talking with Dredge and the Tilley's, that's what you need to do right now, Honey?” My father moved into a problem-solving mode. Choose it, plan it, move it was his motto.

  “Yes,” I confessed. “It's all I can think about.”

  “Fine, let's leave here and do that right now. But at some point, Doodle, all of this experience is going to catch up with you. The anger and the hate you are bottling up will hit you,” my father warned.

  “I don't have time for that,” I insisted. “I have to keep my thoughts together until I get all these important things done.”

  “Don't waste any time cleaning up or whatever your sister sent you in here to do. Let's leave now and get these things off your plate so you can come home and regroup.” That was his way. And today, I appreciated what usually drove me insane about him. My father cuts to the heart of a problem and pushes his way through it. My mother laments the facts in front of her and then finds a way to downplay any damage.

  Neither approach alone would work for me today. I just had to keep my head together for a few more hours.

  Hess and Nina were getting ready to head back to the top of the Tree. Hess offered to extend his leave to help the family recover. I convinced him we didn't need the help. Everything would be fine in a few days, and he would have wasted his time. I apologized as best I could, but he wouldn't hear me out. It seemed our little argument was as trivial to him, as Noah predicted.

  I could see now how vital both of their occupations would be in the coming years. They worked towards a solution while I was busy worrying about my life path and what clothes I wanted for the next school session.

  Driving through town to the Tilley estate felt like running towards a burning building. I had known Blue all my life. We all knew her mother was awful. She never had slumber parties at her house because of her crazy mother.

  After middle school, our circle of friends grew apart. There was no real reason. Proximity might have been an issue. We only had a few classes together. I assumed her mother encouraged her to only keep friends from influential families. My family wasn't anything noteworthy until now.

  My father and I were greeted at the Tilley house by a room full of Blue Bell's relatives. Her father, a tall, handsome man, stood at the back of the white on white entry room, swirling the liquor in his high ball as her mother stomped to the front of the group directly towards me.

  “Where's my Blue.” The blonde woman demanded.

  She looked like Blue Bell, beautiful and tortured, but a fire behind her eyes made me wary of standing too close to her. I stuck out my gloved hand and felt the shock of an open-palmed slap across my face.

  “You evil, old, bitch!” I exclaimed. It wasn't a painful slap, but I was suddenly livid.

  “She told me she wanted to stay with the Red's to get away from you. Now I understand why.” I spit the words at her one syllable at a time.

  Mr. Tilley made his way through the shocked and gasping crowd. He motioned for two of the staff to follow him.

  I could feel my father's hand grab my shoulder. “This may be our cue to leave, Doodle.”

  “No,” I walked towards the overly dressed woman and quickly unzipped the top half of my antique day suit, revealing my sweat-soaked shirt.

  “This is where I tapped the zip drive with your daughter's message.” I yanked my shirt from under my waistband, exposing my stomach. I showed the short length of industrial taped over my kidney next to the ink marker scrawled words 'for the Tilley Family'.

  There were more gasps and a few low shrieks as I ripped the tape off my stomach. The sound it made was as painful as it was satisfying, but the look on Mrs. Tilley's face was priceless. My one regret was that Blue wasn't there to see it.

  As if they had done it many times before, the two staff grabbed Mrs. Tilley under the arms and moved her to a door at the far side of the entry room.

  “I am appalled at my wife's regretful actions Karine, please follow me into the study?” Blue's father smiled apologetically to my noticeably angry father and shook his hand vigorously.

  “Jim, I'm so very sorry.”

  “It's a very troubling time for us all, Richard.” My father patted the older man on the arm and nodded silently.

  “Would you stay here by the door and corral the press? I hear they are on their way. We don't want them to ...”

  “No, we don't,” My father interrupted.

  Anger was still flickering in the pit of my stomach, but I followed Mr. Tilley into his study. I was curious about what he would ask me. This was the part of my promise to Blue that would sting the most.

  SHOOTING GALLERIES

  I was invited to sit on a beautiful antique, red silk-covered chair. My old leather day suit was dirty at best. I tucked my shirt away and zipped the front together, slowly composing myself.

  Mr. Tilley poured me a tall glass of iced water from a decorated decanter displayed on the far side of his impressive-looking study. The walls were lined with clear temperature-controlled bookshelves, packed to overflowing with fragile-looking antique vol
umes. An old record player sat prominently displayed next to an ancient mechanical black typewriter. It was an assault on the eyes, every spot I looked held a new item I wanted to ask questions about.

  The swishing noise of a clock across the room reminded me why I was there.

  “I know all about the comet or the asteroid or whatever rock is coming to remake the globe. You don't need to pretend with me.” I took the glass in my hand and sipped the pristine water. I quickly noticed the dirt from my hand mix with the condensation off the glass. “We have little time left to waste with pleasantries. Please, ask me anything you like.”

  “Were you wasting your time?” he asked, leaning on the edge of his leather-topped desk.

  “Yes, every day. At school and goofing off all over town, with dances and useless selection testing.” I confessed.

  “These are exactly the things we wanted to preserve. Your childhood ended when those gunshots rang out, but many still have a chance to live a lie for now. For one, I am astonished the Red's allowed you to leave. You are beautiful and intelligent. These are qualities in a young woman that never disappoint—in any modern culture.”

  “Many women wouldn't want to leave. Most would not. They didn't hurt me. They offered me a simple, full life. But I couldn't ever accept the myths and the folklore.” I explained.

  “Hmm, I see. You know the hobbies I keep bore my wife to tears. Psychology is one of my favorites. You have a classic tell in the corner of your brow when you lie, Karine. It's endearing. Those ridiculous people almost had you too, didn't they?”

  “I shouldn't say anything. I'm sure it's forbidden to discuss the Reds this way, but I did see a beautiful simplicity in their lives. They let the idea of fate and divine intervention rule them.

  “Their God guides them, but where they saw divine intervention, I saw mathematical probability. They saw hope where I saw the well-adjusted mind of a human being rising to meet a challenge. I didn't see scripture and verse or prayer as the cause of anything. I know Blue didn't either. She wanted to stay and help them navigate away from danger with science and facts.”

  “You know I have a confession too,” he said, removing his glasses. “I was elated when I found out my Blue Bell chose to stay. Happy, she was alive, of course, such a dangerous task, such a huge variance in our cultures. We have little time left to forge a new human experience. Soon we will be rebuilding or removing the population to a different spinning ball of matter. The chore of a hundred years of acclimation will begin.”

  “Do you think the universe ships are the answer.” My voice cracked, and I could feel the heat rising around my eyes.

  “Well, to the immediate issue, yes. Something will remain of the earth. After a few years, those tucked away on the planet and universe class ships will explore what remains. Carve out life while the planet dies or rebuilds. We hope to launch the universe ship before the event begins.”

  “Has there been a planet located?” I asked, not wanting to know the answer.

  “Yes and no. The two we like are so far away—a theory is all we have. The journey will take multiple lifetimes,” he pulled out a pen and flipped over a random paper from his desk and started to a diagram.

  “There will be a layering effect of generations. The older experts in their fields like myself, the pre-childbearing group to be trained extensively, and the custodian class, the twenty to thirty-year-old’s who will maintain the ship and help produce a second generation to train. It sounds odd, but after three generations, the population on the ships will be predominantly female. We are cultivating and freezing all the male embryos we can at present.”

  “Why only women?” I asked.

  “There is a computer model that shows the chronology of the issue best, but basically, the human-animal is lazy. The jump from female to male takes a great deal of energy. The rates of female births are higher in the incubation pods now. The stress of space travel on the body, and the percentage increases for incubated female births brings about a mathematical certainty that can't be ignored, but it can be planned for.

  “Women will eventually run the ships. Parts are being made lighter and easier to physically repair than on an average ship build. The daughters of the Mayflower Universe will travel beyond our galaxy and find the next goldilocks planet to colonize.”

  “The Reds had a good deal of men,” I explained. “They needed more women. That's why they took us.” I finished my drink and tried wiping the streaks of dirt off my glass with my shirt sleeve.

  “Interesting, they don't use the incubators as we do, and they don't limit their family sizes. If you don't mind, I would like to have a candid conversation about the Red colony and their customs, once you have re-acclimated yourself. You have been given a rare opportunity to observe this culture by living inside it. I would find anything you could tell me about them, incredibly valuable.”

  “Blue will be safe and happy with them, Mr. Tilley.” I offered quietly, letting my secret thoughts escape into the room.

  “I would like to know one thing before you leave Karine. The man who selected my Blue Bell, is he good and generous?”

  “Yes, I saw them together. He believes Blue Bell was sent to him from his God, and he looks at her like she will disappear at any moment. He's intelligent but brainwashed by his religion like the rest of them.

  “He's broad-shouldered, about as tall as my father and good looking except for a thin scar across his face. Somehow the scar makes him even more appealing. She found a man who is physically hearty and emotionally starved. The love he shows her, the need and the passion we don't have that here. Not even in our movies.” I fought back the tears and blinked my eyes to dry them.

  “You envy her choice to stay,” he asked, staring directly at my telltale eyes.

  “I don't agree with it,” I stated firmly, folding my arms across my chest. The old leather on my suit protested in quiet squeals.

  “That's not what I asked you, Dear.”

  I smiled and nodded my head. “No, it wasn't”

  I could hear the commotion building in the other room. My father's voice could be quite commanding. I had only heard it this way a few times in my life.

  “My daughter has been through enough today. I will not have her questioned without legal counsel present.”

  My father sent me a text: out the back c u soon.

  Mr. Tilley's phone lit up. “Dredge knows too many of my secrets, I'm to take you out through the old shooting gallery of our youth,” he confessed. “One of his men will collect you at the door.”

  “Civilian weapon usage is restricted to adults?” I questioned.

  “The outdoor pavilion you and your friends use to congregate was constructed long after I turned of age. In the old days, we would drink my father's whiskey and shoot anything we could find out in the old pool room.”

  “Nice.” I could imagine the group, hiding away in the outskirts of the sprawling estate. Entertained by simpler pursuits.

  “I will make a point to speak with you in the next few days, Mr. Tilley, so my experience is fresh in my mind, and my answers are as accurate as possible.”

  “Thank you, Karine, but take your time. I'm quite certain your experience will stay fresh in your mind for the rest of your life.” I could hear that damn clock whispering in the background. Emphasizing each word, he spoke.

  Everything changed while I was away. The town, the people, the circumstances of my life were not the same as the night I was taken. Richard Tilley rushed me through the length of his family estate, down a dusty stairwell into a forgotten disheveled room and out a door to a waiting car with the enthusiasm of a mischievous pre-teen boy. Seeing some of their family secrets up close made me miss Blue Bell.

  As we sped away from the far end of the property, my text lit up. 'I'm just off the train. On the way to our house now. Love you, J.”

  Our house, the words removed what little control over myself I had left. I covered my face and began to cry.

  The dr
iver smiled and handed me several tissues, “Do you need a moment before we approach the driveway, Miss Fuller?”

  Miss Fuller, Miss Lancer, it was too confusing to correct anyone now. My proper title was a matter of perspective.

  I blotted my eyes and took a deep breath. “No. Thank you for these,” I said, waving the little white sheets. “I'm just overwhelmed.”

  “Of course. Don't worry, Miss, whatever is wrong. It will be fixed.” The driver smiled at me kindly and continued through the driveway.

  His statement was meant to console me, but his vow sobered my emotions. 'It will be fixed.' Rang in my brain. I needed to find Dredge before a pile of rocks and dirt covered the water cave coordinates, I was given.

  HOW MUCH TO TELL

  It's a simple choice. Tell the truth or lie. I didn't know what path I would choose yet, but I knew there would be questions.

  I don't remember getting out of the transport. An unseen hand opened the transport door, and the next thing I knew, I was under the entryway solar shield. Jason grabbed me by the arm and the waist and pulled me towards him all at once. He was laughing, and underneath his loud exhaled breath, there was the sound of my brittle hair breaking between us. Baked and charred by the sun, sections of my long hair cracked and broke off like old solar film crumbling off a roof panel.

  It was the first time I thought of how much radiation damage I suffered through the antiquated leather day suit.

  Jason was thinner and felt taller and more muscular than I remembered. He wasn't the soft young man I last saw bleeding on the ground of the pavilion. He looked like more of a man to me now—the youthful, ageless type of man that you don't regard quite the same way as your teenaged friends.

  It was sadness that gave me the strength to pull his arm off my shoulder so I could look at him more closely. “You look so different where's your day suit?” I asked. His eyes looked happy, but the skin underneath them was purple and red from a lack of sleep. His usual pristine haircut was shaggy and disheveled. His skin was pocked red by several blemishes that he would have normally scanned away with UV treatments.