Lottery
Page 4
It’s the fruit, she thought, and then asked Susan if she felt a similar discomfort. Susan offered nothing more than an affirmation that she felt fine, and that the fruit hadn’t soured.
“Maybe it’s only what I ate,” Tabitha answered. “I didn’t have the same as you.” But Susan didn’t agree, and the two sat down on the steps, leaving enough room on the staircase for a run of blue coveralls to pass. From their vantage point, Tabitha could make out the number thirty-three below them: the infirmary. She clutched at her belly when heat flashed through her. Sweat needled the pit of her arms, and her mouth grew wet when her stomach threatened to spill. Tabitha nudged her head towards the landing. If needed, they could go back down a level. Susan moved closer and pressed her hand on Tabitha’s belly.
“Tabbs, I don’t think it was the fruit we ate,” she said, leaning closer. Susan touched Tabitha’s belly and embraced her. “I think what you’re feeling is normal.” Tabitha felt her friend’s warm breath touch her ear as she spoke to her. Susan’s words seemed to melt inside her, like something bittersweet, made of life and an uncertain future.
Much of the climb back home remained a blur, her mind too full to let her eyes wander. She tried to focus on her legs and the drudgery each step posed.
That night she’d dreamed of the cafeteria again, and the images of their baby. It was the same vision she’d seen earlier that day, invading her dreams and continuing the nightmare. She saw herself kneeling next to her baby, looking across the cafeteria towards the room with the airlock. She heard the airlock open, and felt a sudden rush of poison gas blow around them, filling their lungs with a caustic burn. Darting lights escaped the airlock, bleeding onto the cafeteria floors and walls. A tall man came to them next, wearing an environmental suit; she counted three numbers printed upside down on his chest. His helmet was dark, stretching and pulling the reflection of their faces. When the man removed his helmet, she heard the hissing sound of air being forced out. Thin flakes of ash poured from beneath, throwing gray dust into a cloud, sticking in the back of her throat, closing, smothering her. And when she heard her baby choking, struggling to breathe, she turned to find her baby was gone. Instead, she found Justin sitting with her. The dusty ash had disappeared and the cafeteria was filled, every seat taken—some seats doubled up with folks sitting on laps. It was the silo’s family night. While Justin sat next to her, pointing at the massive wallscreen, the cafeteria was busy with parents and their children, a low roar of voices chanting for more noodles and sauce. Tabitha followed the path of Justin’s finger, up towards the hills and the skeletal city skyline, far past the death of what lay directly outside. There she saw what he wanted her to see. She saw the remains of their baby, a new small bundle of decay, added to the hillside like a newborn star in a sea of never-ending sky.
FIVE
TABITHA’S HEART PAINED HER as she tried to breathe, but the air wouldn’t come fast enough. For a moment, she imagined seeing a young, slightly pregnant, woman teetering on the edge of the great staircase, hyperventilating before tumbling to the bottom of the silo. She squeezed her eyes, counting backwards from three, forcing herself to inhale more slowly, to take shallow breaths until the lights flashing in her eyes settled to a soft flicker.
At some point, instincts must have taken over, and when she opened her eyes, she found that she had grabbed the hands that firmly held her. The emotion of what she’d almost done was too much, and before she could speak, her knees started to give, turning weak, almost numb. Her body leaned forward, but this time she didn’t intend to fall. The silo staircase was the furthest thing from her mind as blackness crept into her view, stealing her thoughts and her consciousness.
“Whoa, I’ve got you,” the man behind her answered. He knelt down, guiding her to sit with him on the landing. Sharp needling sweat tingled beneath her arms, wetting the back of her neck and above her lip, while bright blurs crossed in front of her eyes.
“Not now,” she muttered, realizing that the morning sickness she’d been suffering was rearing up again.
“God forgive you for what?” the voice asked again. But all Tabitha could do was shake her head and suck in the air, slow and mechanically, like a machine measuring out equal amounts. She hadn’t found any other means of passing the nausea.
“One second, please,” she answered. Her voice was shaky, but clear, and she thought even a little convincing. And then there was the touch of fingers on her: gentle yet cautious, placed on her back and then moving up and down. She didn’t recognize the voice, and hadn’t had the courage to look at who’d stopped her, saving her baby, but he was rubbing her back. The nausea crept up the back of her throat, more violent this time. Tabitha squeezed her mouth and held her breath until it passed.
“Come on, baby,” she mumbled, putting her hand to her belly. “That’s enough for now… don’t you think?”
“You feeling okay? You’re looking a little green,” the man asked in a deep whisper. “I sure hope it wasn’t the noodles and cheese. Heck, I had two helpings.” Tabitha chuckled, and when the man started laughing, she did too. And to her delight, the laughing helped push away the queasiness, letting her finally turn and see who’d stopped her from throwing herself down the stairs.
“Take another breath, Tabitha. If you want, I can go get Justin,” the deputy told her. When she saw who it was, Tabitha stopped. She stopped moving, breathing, laughing. Her heart stopped too, seeing him move his bright eyes to and from her belly. Tabitha was certain that he knew. He knew she was pregnant.
“Shhh,” he continued, his full lips slightly hidden beneath his white mustache. She stayed quiet; the motion of his hands soothed and calmed, but she kept her eyes locked on his while slowly removing her hand from her belly. A tiny flutter tickled inside her, as though her baby wanted to know what was going on. Tabitha fixed a firm look on the deputy, saying and doing nothing.
“Tabitha?” he asked, leaning in closer to her, turning his head. Curiosity gave way to a confused frown, and he shifted where he sat, taking his hand away, so that he could face her. “Tabitha, is there something wrong?”
Be careful, she thought, trying to figure out how much the deputy might, or might not, know. Tabitha began shaking her head. She shook it until the sting of a careless tear fell from her eye. She swiped her palm against her cheek, and then put her hand on the deputy’s.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for being here,” she said, forcing a smile. “You’re right, I’m feeling sick, and felt a little faint.” The deputy listened, but she could see he wasn’t just listening. He was watching, and recording every move and sound and posture she’d used with him while talking. He was investigating. But that’s his job, isn’t it? she thought. He can’t help it.
“Are you sure I can’t get Justin for you?” he asked again, hanging a thumb over his shoulder towards the cafeteria. “He’s in our offices, setting up. He was helping me just a few minutes ago.” Tabitha gasped, and quickly covered her mouth to mask the surprise of hearing that Justin was working near the airlock.
Tabitha shook her head and then answered, “No, I’ll be fine. But please don’t tell anyone I was ill. I wouldn’t want it to get out that the wife of the silo’s head cook had fallen ill on family night.” The deputy leaned his head back, a toothy grin reappearing below his mustache, while he held out a hand for her to grab onto.
He was a big man, and as he stood up, she caught the scent of two-chit soap. Instantly her heart warmed to the memories of being in her father’s arms. Tabitha pushed on her legs, taking his hands, and then fought the urge to hug him. It’d been years since she’d hugged her father, missing him since his unexpected death. She wanted her dad—needed him—more now than ever, and before she knew it, she was in the deputy’s arms, wrapping her arms around him, thanking him for his help. The deputy’s chest heaved upward once and then down as he sighed and patted her back, telling her it was his pleasure, and that he was glad he was there, catching her, before she’d fallen.
The words reached her ears like a slap, whipping away the fond sentiments with a pang of guilt that was sharp and sudden. Before she knew it, Tabitha was in the deputy’s arms again, crying. She couldn’t stop herself. Shaking her head, trying to ignore her baby, shame coursed through her, cutting and debilitating. The words explaining what she’d planned to do pressed on her tongue, readying for a tumble from her mouth. She wanted to confess. She wanted to tell the deputy everything, releasing her from the weight of the sins she’d committed. Maybe if she did talk to the deputy, then he could go back to the sheriff and the mayor, getting help, regardless of what Doc had told her and Susan.
The singing of metal clangs caught her ears, turning her to face the stairs. There she saw the secret that the great staircase had hidden from her earlier… that is, before she’d tried to fall. Two heads slowed their pace as they approached the landing. She saw the sheriff first, and then the mayor, their faces flush from their climb. Each step rang out with the press of their feet on the treads, the sliding sounds of their hands on the railings, and the tinny echo of a walking stick thumping the metal. When their eyes came to meet hers, she saw that they were wide, questioning, trying to understand what was going on between her and the silo’s deputy. All Tabitha could do was shake her head, wishing she’d never come to Justin’s family night dinner. The early evening had turned into a perfect storm. Justin stood just a few feet from the airlock while those who would send him to die were now standing with her, their expressions ripe with questions. Tabitha pulled away from the deputy as the two of them shuffled away from the steps to make room on the landing.
The mayor was the first to say something. Tabitha watched as the older woman sucked in a chesty breath. Her eyes looked tired, carried by saggy gray pouches, but there was a witty spark in them and Tabitha knew to be careful with her words. She’d been at a few dinners—put on by Justin—and had spent time in their company, listening to their discussions.
“Deputy,” she said, nodding first, and then embraced his hand. But there was something more than just the formality. Tabitha caught a gleam in the mayor’s eyes while her small hand stayed in the deputy’s a moment longer than it needed to. She knew that look. She’d had that look—still had that look, whenever Justin was around. “Everything satisfactory in the Up Top? No complaints about the food I hope.” Tabitha was ready to answer when the deputy stepped forward, closer to the mayor, pressing his other hand on her arm.
“Everything is just fine. Tabitha here wasn’t feeling well. Isn’t that right?” the deputy asked, turning his head back over his shoulder. Tabitha lifted her chin, giving him and the mayor a hungry nod. Her heart lifted as she forced a smile and glanced at the sheriff and back to the mayor.
God forgive you for what? She heard the deputy’s voice say again in her head. He was covering for her. But, she thought, he couldn’t know what he was covering for. He didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to do anything. In the company of the mayor and sheriff, he could just as easily have asked her again what it was she’d meant when she’d said God forgive me.
“Mayor, Sheriff,” he greeted them. “Shall we? I’ve got everything for the meeting set up in our offices. Tabitha’s husband set aside some extra plates, knowing we’d be starting late.” A flutter came then, stealing her attention for a moment. Could her baby hear them? Did their child know what she was going to do? This last thought brought with it a fresh pang of guilt, but more than that, she knew that it was over. She didn’t know what would happen after today, but she could never consider such an act again.
“I can eat,” the sheriff blurted out, smiling widely, then licking his lips with an eager swipe of his tongue. “The mayor ate all the cornflour cookies. I need something more than just the cornbar that was left over… oh, and please tell Justin thank you from all of us.” Tabitha could hardly contain herself, answering with a curt nod and then saying nothing more. She turned back to the deputy, wondering why he’d covered for her, but he was deep in discussion with the mayor, leading her inside the cafeteria.
Tabitha looked briefly at the sheriff, only to find he was already following them into the cafeteria. The deputy had managed to forestall any questions, diverting the attention of the sheriff and mayor to whatever meeting Justin had fixed a meal for. But why? she wondered. The sheriff turned then, as though he’d heard her question. She flashed him a wave goodbye, keeping the sterile smile pasted on her face.
Within a moment she was alone again, standing in the green glow of the landing’s emergency lights. The stairs were silent, holding their metal tongue and telling her no more secrets, offering no hints or clues of anyone approaching. Tabitha moved back to the edge of the steps, pushing a toe forward until it peeked over the edge. She looked down at the metal spiral mesh of treads and awkward shapes, winding downward and disappearing beneath her. The sight made her dizzy, and the thought of falling, of taking her baby’s life, put more pain in her heart. She pulled her toe back from the edge of the stairs and sat on the landing. Uncertainty tensed her muscles, and the sound of silence felt suffocating, smothering, as she tried to wrestle with the thought of what she was going to do.
SIX
TABITHA STAYED ON THE landing, sitting alone, listening to the distant chatter of the silo dinner that was ending. She saw a flash of purple from beneath her eyes, and heard the sound of the cafeteria doors swinging closed. People were going back to their apartments, going back to their lives with their families in tow. The smell of food had become faint and was almost indistinguishable from the smell of the stairwell. Tabitha kept her eyes closed. They felt tired and heavy, but a flutter tugged at her heart and strengthened her. An unexpected elation stirred too, confusing her emotions. It was gratitude to the deputy that had found her. He knew, she thought. Exactly what he knew was still a question, but she could tell that he knew something was wrong.
Hands were on her then, and the familiar scent of her husband came next. She breathed in a mix of Justin’s work coveralls and the cafeteria, moving closer to it. In the presence of his smell, she’d grown to feel comfortable and safe and loved. Tabitha opened her eyes, realizing that it might be the last time she’d ever see Justin like this: unknowing and innocent. She imagined they were in their apartment, waking to the day like they’d done every morning since they’d married, making love and holding one another.
The landing stayed empty, and a sense of gratitude washed over her. Tabitha’s emotions felt jumbled, tied in knots as she considered the life inside her and the life that might end. Justin’s hands were a needed comfort, but his eyes were wide and concerned. And there was something more in his expression: fear. She wondered what he was thinking, and at once a wave of guilt hit her as she replayed in her mind what she had been going to do. Tabitha tried to clear her voice, and winced, wrestling with the sin that burned when she tried to speak. I don’t have to tell him. I don’t have to tell him anything. If the mayor and sheriff put Justin to cleaning, then at least she could save him from knowing what she’d tried to do.
When she found his blue eyes, her breath caught in her throat. Worry riddled his expression, wrinkling his brow, as he searched her, trying to find what was wrong with his wife. She wanted to tell him to run. She wanted to tell him to go to the Down Deep, to hide in the machine shops or work on the oil well, and to never return. Tabitha bit her lip, saying nothing, and put her hand to the side of his face, running her fingers through his hair. And as he’d done so many times before, Justin leaned into her hand, taking it in his, and kissed her palm. She thought it was charming when he did that, and felt a painful swell in her heart.
“Babe, I came as soon as the deputy told me what happened.” Without a word, Tabitha collapsed into her husband’s arms. She felt a sudden urgency to be with him, to hold him, knowing there was no
place in the silo they could go. “Tabbs, what’s going on?” he pleaded. But she couldn’t answer him, and struggled to stop the watery sobs that came as she pressed her eyes against his shoulder. He held her, and told her he loved her, and that nothing would change that. Nothing. When the heaviest of her sobbing had calmed, she was able to face him.
“Justin, I’m pregnant,” she answered him. Justin’s body stiffened, and his expression stretched tight. There was silence then, save for the muffled cafeteria sounds and feet shuffling down the stairs. Tabitha pulled away from Justin, waiting for him to say something. Her chest shook when she breathed and she felt a tinge of hurt when his eyes looked past her. He glanced once to the cafeteria doors and then to the steel grate of the landing. She considered the sudden rush of emotions pouring through her husband: a mix of conflicting feelings, too much for anyone to try and comprehend all at once. She was carrying his child, the greatest gift of life, but it was his own life that was going to have to end. She’d felt the same, but had had time to try and cope. But it isn’t me, she told herself. I’m not the one that has to go outside and clean.
Justin’s face had grown pale, sickly, and his lips leveled tight as though there’d never be another word to say. A pang of remorse lurched in her stomach, as she knew then that she was to be a giver of life, that she’d raise a child who’d one day take a rightful place in the silo while her husband’s body lay upon a lifeless hill; a mere bump being eaten away by a poisonous breeze. It was all about the numbers, she remembered Justin saying when they’d first met. The number of mouths to feed was a crucial count, and right now the silo had one too many. At some point her hands had grown clammy, nervous and scared; her fingers tingled as she fidgeted. Justin’s eyes stayed fixed, nearly unresponsive, and she didn’t know what she could say to help him.