by Jill Cooper
Susan sat outside at Jack’s Soda Jerk with two malt shakes. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Her friend was nothing but punctual so Susan expected her to show up in a moment’s time. As she waited, she primped her hair and took a sip of her beverage. Slowly, she drank it as the monthly money Jeff gave her to spend on frivolous things, was nearly depleted. At least in a few days it would be a new month and she could splurge again. Susan thought a nice tube of lipstick might be nice or maybe new pantyhose.
The air was soft on her skin and the sun was shining brightly. Many people were out that day and Susan smiled at a few she knew. Across the street at the park a few boys flew kites and some older boys, busied with hula hoops. Susan remembered being young and when she could spin her hips like that. She loved life, all stages of it, and New Haven 56 was a great place to life. Maybe how she got there wasn’t so great, but after so many years, Susan was grateful for the chance to be normal, to get married, and have wonderful children.
Glancing up past her table’s umbrella Susan could see the two blues of the day’s sky. One was a natural soft blue with gentle clouds drifting past. Below that a darker, ominous blue dome pulsated in static intervals keeping New Haven safe in its bubble. Even when Susan could manage to forget what she was that damn bubble always reminded her. She sighed at the thought and heard footsteps approaching. They were the quick steps of someone in woman’s pumps.
Megan was a tall and scrawny woman with long red hair. Today it was pushed back with a white headband and her makeup choices were a dramatic choice for doing errands. She slid into her seat, the iron chair grating against the sidewalk. “So, so, tell me everything!” Megan sipped her drink.
“It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Susan smirked.
Megan sighed. “All right, all right, hello, hello. Now tell me.” She waved her fingers in the air as if the push off a mysterious uninvited guest.
“You promise you’re not going to tell Lawrence Stark?”
“I…give you my word.” Megan held up her hand. “Girl scouts honor, darling.”
“And I can trust you this time?” Susan pursed her lips and her fingernails twitted against the glass counter top.
“What is this time nonsense? When have I ever led you astray?”
“How about that PTA meeting last year? You told me everyone was going to be critiquing Mr. Banks.”or
Megan put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Well, you were spot on with everything you said.”
Susan went ‘hmpf’ and crossed her arms. She feigned being angry by pushing her lips together, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I promise.” Megan patted her hand. “Just tell me, what are they like?”
“Sad and afraid.” Susan’s face darkened as she thought about the Franklins and their small children. “He is going to work in the grocery market and she is going to be working mother’s hours at the Templeton Pharmacy.”
“Most do start out there.” Megan rolled the straw through her fingers absently. “And they were…nice?”
Susan nodded. “I invited them to my party next week.”
Megan grinned. “Wonderful! I love new people to interrogate, I mean, be friends with.”
“Their children are small and I don’t think they are old enough to know the significance of this place, at least not yet. But they were well behaved. They said please and thank you when I gave them a muffin.”
“Oh, that’s nice. So many children are not brought up properly these days at all, are they?”
“Certainly not. It used to be the norm, when our two were small.” Susan sighed. “Anyway, you were right. They were trapped by the three and brought here. The children have the marks on them.”
Megan sighed. “Oh, poor things. Poor poor things.”
Susan cleared her throat. “And they brought news of the outside, but you must promise, promise not to tell!”
Megan nodded several times, her eyes going wide with curiosity. “I do, I do. I won’t even tell my George!”
“Your dog doesn’t exactly have loose lips, Megan.”
“No, but I do tell him most everything and who knows what he barks to the neighbors.”
Susan giggled. “They were living in Ohio in a small suburb of Cincinnati.”
“Like that WKRP show? Oh, nice! What was it like? Were all the buildings destroyed? Are they living in ruins?”
Susan’s eyes darkened. “No,” she said quietly. “Life is good. I guess economically things are tough. More people live in apartment buildings than homes.”
Megan scrunched up her nose. “Apartment buildings?”
Susan nodded. “I know. Can you imagine it?”
“But they had freedom.” Megan pushed on with resolve in her voice. She pointed her finger at Susan. “They could go anywhere they wanted.”
She leaned in and whispered, her eyes checking for anyone who might overhear. “Looking over their shoulder, pretending to be something they’re not the entire time. That’s no way to live.”
“And that’s not what we’re doing?” Megan posture suddenly straightened like she had grown several inches and became rigid.
“Where is this coming from? We live happy content lives.”
“In a bubble.”
Defiance shone through her face. “I like our bubble. New Haven is the perfect place to live and raise a family.” Susan’s face flushed. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her purse and searched its content for a compact mirror.
“Look at you, Marie. You can’t even talk about it without getting upset.”
Susan was flustered and the words left her mouth with a hefty dose of spit. “Well, you’re the one who brought it up. It’s not like, not like you agree with Lawrence Sparks is it? Tell me you haven’t joined his cause.”
“It’s not just his cause,” Megan whispered, leaning across the table. “It’s the cause of all of us. Most people just refuse to believe we’re anything but human.”
Susan squeaked and dropped her mirror, a hand covered her mouth. “I am too. I am too! I bake, I clean, I—I take care of the children. What’s more normal than that?”
Megan’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s wrong with being something more? Maybe they’re the ones that should be sequestered and we should be running the show!”
Megan’s voice reached a shrill squeak and other people were beginning to take notice. They were staring at their table and Susan was painfully aware that the other tables were no longer talking, that across the street children had stopped playing with their toys.
The spotlight was very much on them and Susan was fraught with nerves. She tried to force a laugh, sipping her float but she couldn’t swallow, it wouldn’t go down. “You’re creating a spectacle of us. I think you better just tone it down.”
“Tone it down? Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for thirty years? You had it good. Your parents were brought here with you, but mine were killed upon capture and for what? Because they didn’t want to be imprisoned here, in this perfect community? And what happened to those officers that did it? Nothing. All they had to do I bet was file a report!”
Susan opened her mouth to speak, but was frozen in silence as three armed police officers surrounded their table. She hadn’t seen them coming, had barely heard any footsteps at all, but each of them held an electric cattle prod in their hand. From the blue zapping tip, it was obvious they were charged. Their uniforms were black and on their head they wore hats with visors. They looked so normal, so mainstream, but Susan knew different. Horrified, she wanted to plead for her innocence, she hadn’t done anything wrong, please just let her go home to be with her family.
But, their cold calculated eyes weren’t on her. They were on Megan. One of them grabbed her roughly by the arm. “You’ll need to come with us, Ms. Myers.”
How was it they just knew her name? Susan wondered and realized they probably could read it off their tracking bracelets.
“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Megan ins
isted, tugging on her arm, but the large man with the scary dead eyes only strengthened his grip. “Ow,” she whined, “you’re hurting me. Stop it.”
“Has she been upsetting you Mrs. Monroe?” One of the other officers asked her softly. “You look a bit pale, even for one of you.”
Susan shook her head, but unable to speak as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She wanted to say something, but her heart was pounding so fast she felt almost faint. After a moment she cleared her throat. “We were just having floats and…you know how woman get at their time of the month.”
Megan’s eyes narrowed. In a sharp quick breath she spoke, “Susan!”
Susan gulped back her fear, her betrayal and glanced down at her feet.
“We’ll take care of her.” The officer forced Megan to her feet and her chair tumbled backwards. Everyone watched as he grabbed both of her arms and forced them behind her back. Megan struggled as three officers tightened a circle around her.
“Let me go! What happened to the rights of American citizens! I have freedom of speech!”
“You have no rights, you damn glistening.” The officer reached for the handle of his electric rod.
Susan whipped her head toward the window of the sofa jerk, but could hear her friends scream. To keep her from sobbing, she bit her lip. The reflection in the glass plaid out the scene; Megan was electrocuted in the back and her skin morphed from human peach to a glowing blue. Large wings flapped beneath her clothes. The charge of the weapon flowed through her limbs, lighting up her inhuman skeleton. Back arched and fingers splayed, her flailing body assaulted the ground below.
Megan’s form changed and she laid on the pavement with a stoned look on her face. Her expression was still and her eyes sunken with fatigue. It took two officers to force her to walk toward the paddy wagon and another to shove her into the back.
Susan couldn’t do anything. She was too afraid to speak, move, or even think how much she would miss her friend. Around her, everyone went back to what they were doing; like a movie interrupted it now resumed its regular programming. Barely an eye blinked out of place, but for Susan it wasn’t so easy.
She steeled her thoughts, even as her fingers trembled so bad her purse fell to the ground. She wondered if the police could know where they were at all times what was to keep them from reading their minds too?