"Avra, Garth, and Rocky still would have gone to the complex before Prystine."
"Yes. Skin abnormalities are obviously only skin deep. You were sent away because it would make Prystine uncomfortable to look at you."
I feel my blood start to boil. "What if the next President takes it a step further and locks away anyone that doesn't have a pretty enough face? Or long enough legs to be ‘normal'?"
"I know our history and I'm not a fool. It could happen, Elira."
"When will Alexander Prystine stop being president?"
"When he turns 80 years old. That is another part of the complex law that many disagree with. Once a citizen turns 80 they are sent to a Complex for the Elderly. The President of the United Cities gets to keep his office until then."
"Why do they send the elderly away?"
"Elderly people display the same kind of uncomfortable problems that deformed children do. They lose function of their body parts, they lose their memory, and their speech, and they are unsightly to look at."
"So they are locked away so no one will have to look at them in their compromised state."
"Yes."
"Do you agree with that, Father?"
"No. Absolutely not. I have had many 80-year-old patients who were healthy and fully functional when they were forced into to the Complex for the Elderly. No one lasts longer than five years in there. They aren't fed well or treated with dignity. They wither away and die. My friend buries them on the hill too."
Chapter 4
I have a lump in my throat as Garth comes in with my mother. He smiles at me and says, "I like your hair like that, Elira. You look amazing." I feel my cheeks turn red as his eyes remain on me. "I guess it's my turn to get fixed up. I hope I turn out as stunning as you." I smile shyly back at him and follow my parents and Garth to my father's office. I lean against my father's desk, glad to be distracted from the harsh realities the real world presents. Ring! "Ahh!" I scream as the desk vibrates beneath me. Mother pats my arm as she picks up a telephone on the desk. It looks like the one in the glass dorm, except it is tan colored. I look around the desk to see if there can possibly be someone on the other end. There isn't anyone. So who is Mother talking to?
"Okay, then. See you Friday. Bye." Mother hangs up the phone. "My friend is meeting me for lunch on Friday. Sorry to interrupt. Let's get Garth's ear stitched."
My mother changes the sheet before Garth climbs up onto the bed. He looks warily at the instruments on the metal rolling cart. He leans toward me, and I feel his breath on my cheek as he asks, "Will you hold my hand through this?"
I look into his crystal-blue eyes and grin. How can I say no to that face? The corners of my mouth turn up. "Yes, I will." We continue to look into each other's eyes as my father examines his ear and his fingers. Garth doesn't scream or flinch as he is stitched up. His ear is going to look lobe-less. It will be obvious that he is an escapee of the complex, just like me.
My father clears his throat. "I had some artificial... body parts made up for this very occasion."
I am completely shocked to hear that. "What? How can such things exist?"
"Ernestine said Rocky would need an ear to disguise himself, so I had a friend who makes dolls and mannequins put together a box of spare parts for me."
"Won't he get suspicious of something like that?"
"I got the parts a couple of months ago. I told him I was making models of human bodies for classes I teach."
"Oh."
"I have an artificial ear lobe that we can stick onto your ear so that you can go outside, Garth."
He forces his eyes away from me and says, "That would be wonderful, Doctor Hamble. Thank you." Garth turns his head right back to me. My father clicks his tongue. I think we're making him uncomfortable.
My father clears his throat. "Ahem. If you are interested, I would like to tell you about a new surgery I could do to separate your fingers. I haven't actually done it, but I've read about it and I think I could do it here."
Garth looks at his deformed hand for a few seconds before answering. "I—I'm thrilled that such a procedure exists but," he looks at his hand again like it's an old friend. "I will have to think about it. I know my hand is messed up, but it is still a part of me."
My father nods. "I understand, young man. Take all the time you need. You two need some rest so you can heal." Father takes a bottle of pills off his desk. "Take these pain pills to help you sleep."
We both obediently take the pills my father hands us. My mother pours us glasses of water from a pitcher to wash them down.
Mother slides in between Garth and me. "Elira, I will take you to your brothers' rooms, so you can see pictures of them. Garth, you can come too." That last part sounds less enthusiastic to me.
I walk a bit awkwardly in my boot, but I am thankful to be walking at all after last night. Mother leads us to my brothers' rooms down the hall. They both look so much like me, except older and no purple raccoon eye. I try not to let jealousy overtake me as I see pictures of my brothers and my parents smiling, laughing, and doing interesting things together. They are surrounded by water in one photo. I've never seen so much water in one place. It looks bright and magical. If I had not been forced into the complex, I would be in these pictures too.
"I—I think I'm ready to lie down, is that okay, Moth—Mom?"
"Of course, darling. I will tell the cook to delay lunch an hour so you can rest."
"Thank you, but what is lunch again?"
Mother's hand immediately covers her mouth. She drops it as soon as she realizes that I'm embarrassed. "It is the noon time meal. I forget that you..."
I wish she wouldn't react to my naivety so extremely, it makes me feel pathetic. "Oh, yeah. I remember now. I will catch on to all your phrases soon."
Garth tries to help me out. "Madam Hamble, I will take Elira down the stairs, so you can talk to the cook. Thank you for your hospitality."
Mother smiles at him. "Call me, Mrs. Hamble, Garth. Thank you for your help. Please be careful with my little girl." Her eyes say more than her words do.
"I will, Mrs. Hamble." Garth says with all seriousness. My mother walks away looking less sure of that than he does.
I lean heavily on him as we descend the staircase. "I should have been in those pictures, Garth."
"I know. I wish you were in those pictures too. But we can make new memories and take new pictures now."
You know, he's right. We can't erase the past, but we can make the future great. "You're right, I just want to break the whole complex down. I'm not the only one being left out of family pictures."
Garth squeezes my hand. "One day at a time. First you heal. Then we find my parents and Avra and Scott's parents. Once we've done that, we can talk about taking down the complex."
A yawn escapes my mouth. "That sounds good. I should slee—heal." When we enter the basement sitting room, our own faces greet us on the, I believe it is called a television, screen. That startles me to full awareness.
Jefrey stands up and scowls as he points to the screen. "They are looking for us, Garth."
The announcer calls out our names one by one as a close up of our faces fills the screen. "If any of you have seen these six escapees, or their supposed accomplice, Ernestine Moore, you are urged by penalty of law to let the authorities know immediately." The silence that fills the room is deafening.
Chapter 5
When I wake up from my nap, I am incredibly hungry. Avra pulls me out of bed. "Everyone is waiting for you, Elira. Let's go eat our vic—lunch." The lunch, as my mother calls it, is made of fresh delicate rolls and meats I have never tried. The fruits and vegetables provided are strange but delicious too. Ernestine eats without slowing down. It makes me feel like I can have second helpings without getting in tr
ouble. I take a second sandwich looking warily at the adults as I do so. They don't seem to mind at all. My stomach is full for the first time in weeks.
Avra stabs an orange square of fruit on her fork. "What is this, Ernestine?"
"It's called cantaloupe."
Avra bites her piece of cantaloupe in half. "Mmm. It's good. Does it grow on trees like apples?"
Ernestine rubs her chin in frustration. "No, it grows on a plant on the ground, I think."
Scott nods his head energetically. "Yes. It does."
I turn to Scott, surprised. "How do you know that?"
"I was studying to be a gardener."
I think about how much time Scott spent communicating with Avra at the complex. "Uh, you couldn't have had much time to learn about plants before we escaped."
"I'm a year older than the rest of you. I spent the year before I met Avra studying plants so I could grow food for the complex." Oh, that's why Scott isn't as close to the rest of the boys in our gang.
Ernestine swallows loudly. "Speaking of that horrible work-house, the officer on the news today said that they think someone on the inside of the complex helped you out."
My heart drops. "Do they know it was Maxine?"
"No, not yet, but they will probably figure it out."
My happy stomach decides to start twisting into a knot. "I feel so bad. I wish I could help her."
"The best thing you can do is stay put and get healed up." Ernestine takes another big bite of sandwich and swallows. "I wish we knew what you three's last names are. I can look up addresses if I have a last name."
Avra shakes her head. "I don't know my last name. I've always been Avra 286."
"Huh. What does the number represent?" Ernestine asks.
Avra frowns. "I don't know."
I have an idea. "I don't know for sure, but I think we're numbered as we're placed into the complex."
Mother chimes in, "I believe so. My husband has asked his colleagues who work at the complex in the past. Once the number reaches 9999, they start over again at 1. The lifespan for... residents of the complex is not very long, and they don't want to keep track of five-digit numbers."
"Don't look so sad, kids. You're out now. I can ask around to see if anyone knows of a couple who lost twin boys to the complex. That is a pretty rare occurrence. You two, your parents will be a little bit harder to track down," Ernestine says as she jabs her fork at Avra and Scott. Scott reaches for Avra's hand.
My mother sets her knife and fork down in a prim and dainty way. "Ernestine, don't get their hopes up. Not all parents are like us. Some people have been severely indoctrinated by the government's propaganda. This could all end in tears."
Jefrey jumps into the conversation, "I agree. I think we'll get caught if we go looking for our parents. It's not safe. We better not."
Avra's face wilts before my eyes. I wish Jefrey would think twice before speaking. I tilt my head toward Avra and mouth the words ‘shut up' to him. He rolls his eyes at me.
Ernestine looks at Jefrey and Florence. "Have a little faith in me. I will watch the parents for a long time. I'll get the feel for what they're like before I risk taking the kids there."
My mother looks intently at her less-elegant friend. "I sincerely hope so."
We ‘kids' sit quietly, eating our lunch as the adults talk over us. I really don't want Avra's weak heart to be broken by parents who were glad to be rid of her. I can't imagine that she has one of the few horrible sets of parents out there, though. Right?
We all help clean up lunch in silence. I glare at Jefrey one more time when I see a tear trickle down Avra's cheek. Ernestine reassures us that things will work out and directs us to the comfortable sofas and chairs in the common room, or great room, as my mother calls it. Jefrey taps me on the shoulder and asks me if he can have a word with me. I nod, and hobble to the corner with him.
Jefrey's blue eyes are dark and keep darting around. "It seems like you have given up on me, Elira."
I can tell he feels hurt which makes me feel bad, but I think we should be honest with each other. "You've made it clear that you did not want to escape and wish we were still back there. I feel so differently that I don't know if we can ever..."
Jefrey's eyes burn into mine. "I'm stuck in this new life with you. Can't you give me another chance?"
Is that really the word he just used? "Stuck, huh?"
"Sorry, that's not what I meant to say."
"What did you mean to say?"
"Come sit by me at the table so we can have more privacy," Jefrey whispers as he takes my hand and leads me to the table. I'm trying to decide how his hand feels on my own. Garth turns his head to watch our progress, then gets off the couch and walks into the boys' room and shuts the door.
Avra raises her eyebrows at me as she squeezes Scott's hand from the sofa. I turn away from everyone and try to act interested in a painting on the wall.
Jefrey tries to get me to look at him. "Elira, I used to know what each day would be like in the complex. I had a routine and I liked it. Now, I am constantly looking over my shoulder. I feel like the authorities are right outside the door and will take us back any minute now."
I look at him and try to understand how hard it must be to miss routine and to fear the unknown. I feel like my whole life has been filled with unknowns. This isn't any different. I just have parents and friends who will answer my questions and help me know what is going on. "Jefrey, do you trust my parents and Ernestine?"
"Y-yes. I guess so."
"Do you think they want to help you?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah. It seems like it."
"I can promise you that they care more about you than any of your mentors did. We can study and become whatever we want to out here."
"I could do that in the complex too."
"No, you couldn't. You were lucky to be a yellow, but you had 12 choices only. Once you became too sick to put in seven days a week of hard labor they would kill you. My dad knows someone who buries a body every other day from the complex." Jefrey shakes his head like he doesn't trust me. "I can't believe you still believe that the complex was there to help you. It was there to use you."
"The complex may have had some secret plans, but I never felt used."
"I'll have my mother take you to buy cheap goods that our friends made for no pay. If reality hasn't sunk in by then, I don't know if it ever will."
I try to stand up, but he grabs my hand so I'll stay put. "I hear what you're saying, but it is going to take time for me to understand this new world. Will you help me? Elira, please?"
I wish his face didn't look so handsome or so pitiful. "Yes, Jefrey. I'll help you. We will figure out this new world together."
"Thank you."
"That's what friends do."
Ernestine brings out a long, thin box and sets it on the little table in front of the sofa. I want to know what is in the box, so I stand up and walk over to her. Jefrey follows me and sits by me on the couch.
"Rocky, I want to teach you how to play chess. Your—uh—father and I used to play it all the time. It teaches you to think ahead before making a move. That will be an important skill to master as fugitives and you're going to need something to do when you are stuck down here. The rest of you kids listen in. We have an hour or two before Florence comes back from the store."
Scott walks to the boys' bedroom door and sticks his head in for a few seconds. Garth walks out of their bedroom, gives me half a smile and sits down across the room from me. I smile at him, but I can tell he's not happy that I'm sitting by Jefrey. Ernestine starts explaining what each piece of the game does and I'm grateful for the distraction from Jefrey's longing gaze. I easily memorize how each piece on the board moves. Rocky places hi
s pieces in safe spots at first, but as the game progresses, I keep warning him not to move his pieces in danger's way.
"Sometimes you have to sacrifice a piece in order to win, Elira," Ernestine tells me as I'm about to warn Rocky again.
"That doesn't really make sense," Jefrey says.
"I'll play you next, Jefrey, so you can understand."
"No. I don't want to play. I'll just watch."
"Fine. Suit yourself."
Rocky loses to his mother after a long, overly-merciful game and then challenges me. "If you're so smart, see if you can beat me."
I sit tall on the edge of my seat. "Oh, I will." Avra giggles at me as she leans forward to watch.
Maybe I shouldn't have spoken so soon. I was sure I was going to win because I took more of Rocky's pieces than he took of mine, but just like his mom warned me, he sacrificed an important piece, his queen, to win the game. I didn't see his rook because I was so focused on the queen. Rocky smiles at me as he tips my king over. "Checkmate, game over. Nice try."
I frown in disappointment. How did I let myself get distracted from what really mattered? I need to think about this before I play again. Ernestine smiles at me. "Do you want a rematch, Elira?"
"Yes, but tomorrow." Thud. I whip my head around to see what's going on in the kitchen.
Mother places a big box on the table. Garth is immediately by my side. He takes my hand and helps me hobble to the kitchen. Jefrey glares at us the whole way. I feel like I am doing something wrong by him. What should I do? I don't want life to be hostile and uncomfortable here. Ahh.
My mother smiles with delight as we gather around the table. "I have disguises for you all. Let's see how different we can make you, so you can go outside soon." I look into the box with curiosity. There is hair dye of every color, fake noses and ears, makeup, earrings, sunglasses, sideburns, and eyebrows. I want to reach in and grab something, but I have no idea what I should try.
Ernestine picks up a fake nose and turns to my mother. "I hope you didn't buy all of this at a single store today. With the breakout all over the news, someone will turn you in for suspicious behavior for sure."
The Complex Law: Young Adult Dystopian Page-Turner (The Complex Trilogy Book 2) Page 3