Upon Us

by Blakely Chorpenning

  Thinking about that, he nodded once. "These men -wherever they came from- knew your plan. They brought it to the attention of the village. Said you were a 'person of interest' to them, and it would benefit everyone to work together."

  "Which is against the law." Quoting a government restriction of the New Beginning, I said, "Community first. Avoid outsiders to reduce the probability of disease and violence."

  "Void for procreation and marriage purposes. Yes," he agreed, "We all know the rules. Don't act like you haven't broken any."

  "Says the man fishing in a glass house."

  Ren laughed, finally uncrossing his arms.

  "Don't laugh at me." My voice faded. I was serious. I was lost inside this world of his.

  His smile died instantly. "I would never laugh at you. At a strange phrase, yes. Never at you."

  "It's a common phrase," I disputed. Trying to control my temper, I changed the subject. "How are you healing?" Also, I really needed to hear him say he was okay.

  "This old thing?" He lightly patted the gauze under his green shirt. "Dr. Lowel demanded to know why I'd let a strange woman pour super glue all over my wound and then punch the shit out of it two days later. I told her you claimed to be a doctor."

  I don't know what came over me. All of the aggravation and fear drained away in that moment and my laughter escaped so loud and fast it was almost scary. The crazier I felt, the more I laughed. I couldn't remember a time when I had felt laughter in the core of my stomach. It was an odd sensation, and I was sorry when it ended.

  I managed to snort, "You are so strange."

  "You're magnificent," he countered.

  The intensity of his words drove me to stand and grab my crutches. Being with Ren was a danger I had never faced. Sweeping emotions were more dangerous than any man with a gun.

  He blurted, "I made you uncomfortable."

  "Yes."

  "Don't go."

  "I haven't slept yet." It was a valid excuse. Nevertheless, an excuse to leave before I forgave Ren completely, because he was magnificent, too.

  He nodded. "I'll walk you to your room."

  "You've walked enough. Finish eating."

  Struck by an epiphany, his eyes seemed troubled as he said, "You won't ever stop walking."

  I managed a reserved smile. "I will one day." When I'm dead, I finished the thought in my head, but he knew. He heard it in his own mind. At least he was being honest with himself.

  His words supercharged the air between us as he muttered, "I hope I don't live to see the day the whole world cries."

  Parting company, I hastily limped out of the room and down the hall, not allowing Ren the chance to say anything more. His directness definitely had a knack for keeping my feet moving. Usually in the opposite direction.

  Graham caught up to me in the hall. "Hey, are you going to bed?"

  "Yes."

  "Dr. Lowel requested something I don't think you're gonna like."

  Chapter Nine

  I wasn't used to a cushion under my bones, no matter how tired or injured they were. Every angle felt alien, reminding me that something was on the horizon. Something I had no control over. It hadn't helped that Dr. Lowel's "request" was to handcuff my left wrist to the metal atrocity attached to the bed. It limited my already afflicted mobility.

  After wrestling with the rough sheets, I finally slunk awkwardly over the side of the bed until my feet touched the floor. The cuff slid up the rail, enabling me to sit on the floor, between the bed and the window, with my back against the wall. My arm dangled across the front of my face, still attached to the bedrail.

  That was much better. My eyes fell shut and I slept like I was making up for five lifetimes of exhaustion. I'm not sure how long I was out, but I was still groggy when yelling and doors slamming woke me. Sitting on the floor, I rested my head against the side of the bed, wondering what all the fuss was about. Angry voices rang out from the hall, though I couldn't hear exactly what was being said.

  Footsteps stomped away, replaced by more. They sounded frantic. There was a search of some sort. Voices grew impatient. They should have re-labeled this hospital the town square. The entire village must have been right outside my door.

  I heard the door unlatch one more time.

  My eyes cracked open. Ren peaked around the end of the bed. His shoulders slumped and he smiled. Before I could say anything, he left the room again.

  The voices escalated once more, dying away prematurely.

  The door opened again. A shadow formed as Ren padded barefoot through the room. He unlatched the cuff with a small key, dropping them both on the side table. He nudged me toward the window, making room to sit between me and the horrible excuse for a bed. His leg pressed against the length of mine.

  "Your people are so loud," I mumbled, unable to shake the hold of my sleepy haze.

  "Yeah, they're hard to live with." There was a hint of humor in his tone. He shifted closer. "What are you doing on the floor?"

  "The bed is too much like-" I almost fell asleep again.

  "Like a bed?"

  "Yes."

  He spoke low and reassuring. "Go back to sleep for a while." Slinking his arm out from between us, he wrapped it around my shoulders. "Lean in. Rest your head."

  "Your wounds," I protested. "You should sleep on the bed."

  "I'm not as fragile as you'd like to think."

  Angling his body towards me a bit, I felt the warmth of his chest meet my cheek. His heartbeat was strong and called to me like the music of a siren. I would take his advice. Just this once.

  I wrapped my arm around his waist and drifted to sleep, feeling his grip tighten around me.

  Sleep was filled with dreams this time. Nothing made sense. I only recalled Ren's smug face explaining things I didn't ask to know about, ended by the men with guns killing me. When I jerked awake, I was alone. Ren had left some time before I woke. Without standing, I leaned forward and brushed the curtain aside to stare out the window. A few people walked by, none the wiser of being watched. I spotted more brick buildings across the walkway. The silhouettes didn't give the impression of homes. Common areas, perhaps?

  Dropping the curtain in place, I worked harder than I cared to as it took all of my effort to stand. I peeled the brace off of my knee, taking a moment to bend my leg. There was still an elevated level of pain, but it definitely felt better than the day before. And it was slightly easier to remain standing.

  I left the brace discarded on the floor, opting to keep the crutches.

  Dr. Lowel entered without knocking. She took one look at the brace on the floor and tisked my choice. "Put it back on before you leave."

  "Now I can leave?"

  "Of course. Come with me."

  I grabbed my clothes hanging in the shower and folded them into a backpack the doctor handed me, thankful to have a bag that left my hands free for the crutches.

  "I expect you to do the exercises Graham shows you. And you will need to check in every day."

  "Am I leaving?" The lilt in my tone gave away how pleased I was at the prospect.

  Rolling her eyes, she sounded exasperated. "Your friend has vouched for your monitored release into the village."

  Not what I was hoping for, but it sounded more promising than being chained inside the hospital.

  Gasping, she noted, "I almost forgot, I need a vile of your blood before you leave."

  "For what?"

  "We think your blood carries an antidote."

  "Who is 'we'?"

  "You ask a lot of questions."

  "I wouldn't have to if you would speak in complete sentences."

  Inhaling sharply, Dr. Lowel explained, "The men who brought you here believe you have an antibody in your blood with the potential to cure numerous ailments."

  "Like what?"

  A scowl plastered her face. "You may hold the key to healing certain common ailments, potentially deadly now, after the New Beginning."

  "Like…asthma?"

/>   "It's a possibility."

  Whether she was agreeing simply to appeal to my senses was suspect. However, I didn't really have a choice.

  "Do it, then, if it can help Ren or someone else."

  She removed a syringe from her jacket. After tying a rubber strap around my arm and asking me to make a fist, she jabbed the needle brusquely into the crease of my arm. My blood filled the syringe quickly once she removed the strap.

  Ren walked in just as Dr. Lowel pocketed the strap and my blood sample.

  "What's going on?" he asked, eyeing Dr. Lowel suspiciously.

  "She was explaining the recovery for my knee."

  He picked the brace up off the floor. "I'm sure it involves actually wrapping this around your knee."

  "No." I met Dr. Lowel's gaze. If she wanted me to keep her secret, for the time being, I needed an act of good faith on her part. "It was more of a suggestion."

  He waited for the doctor to reply.

  Meeting me in the middle, she rectified, "If you are not very active, the brace is not completely necessary."

  My lips pursed tightly together. I'm sure it hurt her pride to bend that one percent.

  "I will see you tomorrow," Dr. Lowel said hurriedly, leaving us.

  "You'll be needing this." He kneeled and began swaddling my knee in the abominable brace.

  "The doctor just said-"

  "I've known the doc a long time," he cut me off. "She wants you to use it. I'm not sure what you have hanging over her head to make her say otherwise, but you're wearing it. We have a long walk."

  Begrudgingly, I allowed him to finish attaching the contraption before following him through the long stretch of hallway to the front door. He walked slowly so I could keep up, careful to pretend it was his own pace that made him lag.

  "Am I being released into the village?" I tried to sound confident, but my hesitancy was obvious. That wouldn't do. It wasn't the way guests -or in my case, prisoners- were treated.

  "You will be staying in an empty cottage close to the doctor. Guarded, of course."

  The thought of being surrounded by those men again crept up my spine like a spider ready to strike.

  "No. It's customary for a visitor to stay with the one who invited her. That would be you."

  "You want to stay at my house?"

  "It's custom."

  He shook his head. "But I didn't invite you."

  "I'm here because of you, and I can't leave. That's the equivalent of an invitation."

  We stopped walking. A few Privileged gawked before Ren waved them away.

  "You can't stay with me. What would people think?"

  "They would think you're being a good host rather than an asshole. I've lost everything, and I have maintained my composure until now." I threw my backpack to the ground. "If you turn me away -if you leave me surrounded by guns- that is unforgivable. An insult."

  "Whoa! I'm not trying to insult you."

  "I shared my shelter and my food with you when I have considerably less and you repaid me with lies!" I reminded him.

  "You're right." He picked up my bag, pulling the strap over his shoulder. With more clarity, he repeated, "You're right."

  Working to match his pace, I asked, "Why did you change your mind so quickly?"

  "It gives me a chance to show you around the village. Maybe change some of those notions you have about us. What did you call me?"

  "Privileged."

  "Well, now you can see how the 'Privileged' live."

  "I would like that," I said earnestly.

  Ren sounded a bit surprised. "You would?"

  "Definitely. This is your home. I'd like to know more about you."

  "Good. It will also keep you busy from escaping."

  "I can multitask."

  His smile bloomed.

  "I'll take my bag."

  He shook his head. "Finders keepers." There was a lilt in his tone that I was starting to associate with his humor.

  "What does that mean?" I asked.

  "You don't know? This is your first lesson in 'villager.'"

  I tried not to smile. "You're making that up. It's not a saying."

  "It is absolutely a saying. We use it all the time here in the village."

  After thinking for a moment, I concluded, "You're using it wrong."

  He slowed his pace. "How would you say it?"

  "Finders leavers." When he didn't respond, I clarified, "If you find something, leave something."

  "Finders keepers," Ren recited. "If you find something, it's yours."

  Walking away with my bag, he left me scowling in the middle of the walkway. "That's horrible," I called out.

  "Eh," he shrugged. "Sometimes it's worth the extra trouble." His voice carried an undertone I couldn't place.

  I watched him walk ahead. The crutches were easier than the walking sticks, but the effort it demanded exceeded my patience. The expended energy didn't seem worth using them. I tried walking on my leg, crutches hanging by the wayside. My progress slowed to a snail's footpath, giving the illusion of Ren's pace increasing.

  He rounded a corner before I noticed him reappear, silently waiting for me. He had the decent sense to busy himself rather than gawk at my awkward attempt.

  It didn't take long to accept defeat and use the crutches again. I hobbled up to Ren, who kept his mouth shut, and we were on our way.

  "Where are we going?"

  "I thought you might like to see the greenhouse."

  "You have a greenhouse?"

  "The village does."

  We walked a few more minutes, passing others on the trails. I made sure to greet everyone as they stared at me quite strangely. Soon we were standing in front of a massive structure. The base was three feet of concrete, which transitioned into a series of windows meeting at a low peak in the middle.

  "Glass?"

  He shook his head. "Plexiglass. It's lighter and more resilient."

  The sight inside stole my breath as we entered. Greenery was overflowing in every direction. Potted plants hung in tidy rows from ceiling rafters. Small trees in pots lined thin aisles, leading to an open space. Trays of herbs and spices covered massive tabletops. Shade plants rested below them, protected from the sun's taxing rays. Seedlings sprang from tiny cups in a glorious blanket. I could have named any random plant or vegetable and it was probably in this room.

  A tall woman strode our way, her squirrel coat gray hair trussed behind her in a messy bun. I stared at her slender forearm as she held it in front of me, waiting to shake her hand.

  "I'm Lenna. I wish I could say that I've heard a lot about you but," she clasped her hands together, "I don't know the first thing, other than you're from outside the village."

  "Is that a problem?"

  I searched her eyes for discomfort or fear. They were framed by delicate lines caused by hours of sun exposure. It made sense if she spent the majority of her time planting and harvesting, though she was years younger than her gray hair led me to believe.

  "On the contrary, I'm pleased to have you here. I'm curious to know more about the horticultural practices of the surrounding clanships." She was enthusiastic. "If you would share your knowledge, I will gladly reciprocate." With a sweeping gesture of her arms, she added, "I will tell you anything about my domain you wish to know."

  The offer was substantial. Every turn of the head created a new aqueduct of questions. This certainly wasn't my first greenhouse, but it was the most extravagant. The sheer size. The variation. The numbers. Some clans had modest greenhouses or shelters used for their most important crops. Lenna's mammoth was a year-round nursery promising health and wellness.

  "I would be very interested."

  Lenna clapped her hands together. "Excellent. Would you like to start over here with our medicinal plants? You are probably most familiar with yellowroot."

  "Of course."

  A tarp was draped above the light green leaves to simulate shade. Wild yellowroot would be tan right now. It was odd to see
them so bright, frozen by a manufactured season. The straight stems had a small cluster of tooth-edged leaves, and the entire plant was no taller than the span between my wrist and elbow.

  Ren's attention moved from me to Lenna, asking, "What does yellowroot do?"

  "Clans use it to get rid of a sore throat," I informed him. "And sometimes they use the root as a dye."

  Lenna confided in us, "Dr. Lowel ordered some two days ago to help a patient begin her labor process. And two individuals in the village use it to help control their diabetes."

  "Diabetes?" The word inspired fear, like childhood tales of boogeymen in the shadows. "How is that possible?"

  As was true with numerous ailments, diabetes was all but a myth. It was a campfire story, ousting the trials of the world before the New Beginning.

  Looking from me to Ren, Lenna was taken aback by my response. "The New Beginning wasn't a cure-all," she managed to say.

  "No, it was an eradication process." I tried not to look as shocked as I felt. People were living in the village in a way that no one else could. Was it this easy? Build walls, grow roots, drink teas, and stay alive? Had the clans been so wrong to embrace the age of Darwinism? There had to be more. "How much is nature-based versus pharmacologically sustained?"

  Sighing, Lenna tried to remain neutral, though she clearly wanted to cry. "There has been an increasing pressure to grow a greater number of medicinal plants in recent years. We need enough to sustain the population, to prepare for the inevitable."

  "The medicine is running out," I mumbled.

  She nodded. "It comes less and less. Sometimes the government -the skeletons who run the ghost ship- offer drug incentives if the villages help them."

  "Help how?"

  Her eyes darted to Ren, who appeared completely unsettled by the entire conversation.

  It didn't take long to guess, "To help with things like catching a 'person of interest.'" Me, I noted silently. "How much am I worth?"

  "Jolee-" Ren began to protest.

  I demanded, "How much?"

  Staring out one of the panes of the magnificent green capsule, I watched a group of children play dolls at the base of a well. Each doll had a cluster of rag hair and a dress or pants. Two girls and two boys sat together, making the dolls dance and talk to one another. It was such a primitive act, learning to belong through play. Building real-world friendships in imaginary lands. My imaginary time was spent foraging and collecting acorn tops that resembled hats for my pet frogs. How different I might have turned out if my frogs were humans.