The Complex Leader

by Heather Hayes

  My mother looks at her watch again. "I will call Maxine and have her meet me at my salon tomorrow to pick up the bottle of sheol. She'll have to do some quick thinking to be where we need her to be on Friday." Mother looks at the ceiling as she thinks. She suddenly snaps her fingers. "She told me she has a little troublemaker in the five-year-old group. Maybe she can bring her to solitary on Friday for bad behavior and offer to help with Avra while she's there."

  My heart leaps in my chest. Thank goodness my mother is so smart. "That sounds pretty reasonable, Mom. I know Maxine would do anything to help Avra."

  Mom squeezes my hand. "We all would, Elira. Ross, you need to win Henry over by Wednesday so he can arrange to be on duty Friday from noon until two."

  Father nods. "I know his shifts are usually 8:00-5:00, because I've stayed late in the office to accommodate his work schedule every time he comes in. So it should work if he's on duty Friday."

  Mother's face is serious. "If he seems hesitant, offer him a reward. Avra is worth it."

  Father nods his head in agreement. "Henry has been feeding me information about the complex ever since he got the job there. I know he hates what they do, but if a bribe is necessary, I'll do it."

  I'm feeling a crunch on time. "Today is Monday; you're taking me driving tomorrow. When will you talk to him, Dad?"

  "I will stop by his house after driving lessons tomorrow. He found himself in a predicament without his heart medication a few months ago. He called me, and I brought him some, so I know where he lives. It's one street away from Avra's parents."

  I know that the houses in that area belong to people living on the poor side of life. I hope we can trust this guy. A nervous sigh escapes my lips. "It's not a perfect plan, but it's the only plan we've got. I just hope she can hang on until Friday."

  Chapter 3

  Mother takes a wet breakfast plate from me. "Elira, remember the man who interviewed us at the Vote-Off last night?" she asks.

  "Yes," I say as I feel around in the soapy dish water for another plate.

  "He introduced us to Brock's Herrington campaign manager, Douglas Shriner. He'll be on the news with us tonight."

  I keep washing the breakfast dishes as Mother dries them. "Okay."

  "We had a nice chat with Mr. Shriner after our interviews. He was wondering if we had any family members who could volunteer handing out 'Vote for Hamble' buttons and flyers on Wednesday at the city fair."

  "That's tomorrow." I hand my mom a dripping bowl. "You, Dad, and Greggory could."

  "Yes-but I had a crazy thought come to me while we were talking to him. I told him that our niece, Edith, would be in town that day and that she might be willing to help. You did so well at the Vote-Off, and I kind of want you to get used to interacting with strangers. What do you think?"

  I snicker. "There would be so many people there, surely someone would recognize me."

  Mother's eyes become serious. "That's the funny thing about crowds and menial jobs. An individual person can become invisible in that environment."

  That is an interesting thought. Sometimes all I want is to be seen and acknowledged; other times, all I want is to be invisible. "Invisible, huh? Do you want me to try it?"

  "Yes. You really don't look like that picture they keep putting on the news in your disguises. I think you would learn a lot, without standing out, with so many people and so many booths in one place."

  I think of all the sights and sounds that being outside brings to my attention. I realize that I want to be a part of it. "All right. I'll do it. Can Garth come too?"

  Mother's eyes narrow. "Isn't he supposed to go to his parents' house for his little brother's birthday tomorrow?"

  My shoulders droop. "Oh, yeah. Never mind, I don't want to be alone there, Mom."

  Mother nudges me with her shoulder. "Greggory, your dad, and I will all be there with you. Don't be afraid."

  I open the drain in the sink and watch the soapy water disappear. "Okay. I do want to get a feel for how many people are really voting for Brock."

  Mother claps her hands with excitement. "Perfect, it's all settled then. You, Garth, and Rocky should eat your lunch and get ready for driving lessons in the desert."

  "Isn't Scott coming with us?" I worry about him. Losing Avra has made him depressed.

  "No. He is going to visit his parents today. He hasn't been back since Avra was taken. Ernestine says the officer surveillance has gone down quite a bit the last couple of days. It's time."

  I squeeze the key in my pocket. "It probably is time, but he's going to miss out."

  •

  "Elira, watch out for the cactus!" my dad yells.

  "Ahh!" Too late. I hope my beautiful purple car isn't scratched up too much on the right side. It's hard to tell how close is too close to certain things on my dad's homemade road consisting of cacti, orange cones, and cardboard box signs.

  "She's a woman; give her a break."

  I flip around in the driver's seat, nicking the side of an orange cone with my tire in the process. "What's that supposed to mean, Rocky?"

  Rocky's eyes open wide as he points ahead to a cardboard box that I bump as well. "Have you seen my mom drive?"

  I turn around to face the windshield. "That doesn't mean all women drive like her."

  "You're right," Rocky says, and then mutters under his breath, "But you do."

  "I heard that."

  My dad mops his brow with a handkerchief. "Good job, Elira. It's Garth's turn now. Pull over to the side of the silo and switch spots."

  Garth is positively giddy as he jumps out of the back seat. He kisses me on the cheek as he trades me spots. I try not to be jealous as he maneuvers the fake road without running over a cone or sideswiping a cactus.

  Rocky leans over and smirks at me. I turn away from him. "Don't say a word, Rocky Moore."

  "I wouldn't dream of it."

  Rocky gets the last turn. He only hits one cone when he tries to parallel park. His smug look drives me crazy as we stop to have the snacks Freda packed for us. The side of my car creates almost enough shade for the four folding chairs my dad pulls out of the trunk for us.

  Father lets out a contented sigh as he pops open a cold soda. "I want each of you to drive the course again when you're done eating. I think we should do this at least once, maybe twice a week until you're ready to drive on your own."

  "When will we get to drive on a real road?" Garth asks between bites of chocolate chip cookie.

  "You would probably be ready next time we do this, but..." Dad looks sideways at me. "We'll probably stick to the desert for a couple more lessons."

  I feel so small as I munch on a celery stick. I am holding these guys back. I used to feel like I was a leader for my friends. The more time goes on, the more I realize that they don't need me. In fact, at times like this, they would probably be better off without me. I bite down on my celery stick again and gag at the grittiness that fills me mouth. I look down at it to see that Rocky has filled my celery with a handful of sand. My face contorts with rage.

  Rocky's eyes fill with apprehension. "Ha, ha! It was just a joke, Elira. Your eyes looked like you were off to another planet."

  Throwing my celery to the side, I scoop a handful of sand off the ground and jump out of my seat. Rocky takes off running. Luckily my toes have healed since our breakout from the complex, and my adrenaline makes me just a tad faster than Rocky. I tackle him from behind and feed him a mouthful of sand.

  "Ugh. Get off me! I won't do it again," Rocky's dark, sandy mouth shrieks.

  "You better not," I say as I climb off Rocky's chest.

  Garth rushes over and helps dust me off. "You should tackle me next time," Garth whispers in my ear as he dusts off my elbows. I blush as we walk back to my dad.

  "With that much deter
mination, you'll be driving like a pro in no time, Elira." My dad is smiling at me, but I see him wipe his brow one last time as we climb back into the car.

  After another slightly less eventful round of driving, my dad takes the driver's seat and drives us back to the main road. A rusty, red pick-up truck pulls in right as we're pulling out. A wrinkly old cowboy rolls down his window. "What are you doing here, Dr. Hamble?"

  "You said I could teach the troubled youth I volunteer with how to drive out here, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah. That's right. If I had a dollar for every charitable thing you've ever done, I'd be a rich man."

  "I don't know about that. You're the one letting me use your property. It takes a giving man to do that."

  "Well, just keep that in mind when I want you to keep being my doctor once they stick me in The Complex for the Elderly."

  "I will. I'll take care of you just like you're taking care of me. Have a good day, Elmer."

  "You too, Doc."

  I turn around to watch Elmer drive off in the opposite direction. "When is Elmer turning 80?"

  "Next year."

  "He seems spry enough to take care of himself."

  "He is, but once he's 80, he has to obey the law and go to the Complex for the Elderly."

  "Do you have to have an invitation to go into the Complex for the Elderly?"

  "Not exactly. Doctors are allowed to visit their patients the first Monday of every month, but no one else is able to visit there."

  That doesn't seem like enough care for someone with lots of health problems. Some of the girls with red buttons in the complex come to mind. "What if they need their doctors more than that?"

  "Then they have to see the complex doctors, and they don't have as much patience as I do."

  "Do they have a death doctor?"

  "Yes."

  I turn around in my seat with a huff. "Hmm. Once Brock is a senator he may want to change that part of the law too."

  Chapter 4

  "Checkmate!" I scream as I knock Rocky's king over. "Take that."

  Rocky slaps the sofa in frustration. "I want a rematch. You just got lucky."

  "No, I didn't. You just think girls are worse than guys at everything."

  Rocky scoffs, "No, I don't."

  "Prove it. What am I better at than you?" It takes skill to fish for a compliment while trying to prove a point.

  Rocky pauses for a moment as I glare at him. "You got us out of the complex. I didn't know how to do that. I pay respect where respect is due."

  "That's right." I look around the room and see Scott laying his head on the computer desk. "Scott, do you want to play chess? Rocky needs an opponent."

  Scott sits up straight and rubs his eyes. "Sure. Why not?"

  Rocky shakes his head at me as I smile and walk away. I know I can't beat him twice in a row. He's looking for revenge now. I wander over to the table where Ernestine and Garth are talking quietly to each other. I sit down and kiss Garth on the cheek. "What's up?"

  Ernestine rubs her hands together. "Your dad is talking to Henry right now. We're trying to decide if we should stay in the bunker tonight, just in case."

  "What do you think, Ernestine?"

  She shrugs. "I watched Henry bury someone on the hill today. I couldn't tell how sad he was about it. I think we better be on the safe side and stay in the bunker."

  I nod as I realize how bad this rather rushed decision could turn out. "You're right. If he turns us in, we'll end up in the same situation as Avra."

  Garth squeezes my knee with his deformed hand. "I think Henry'll understand. He recognizes his own value despite his heart problem. Don't give up hope this early."

  Ding dong. That is the upstairs doorbell. "Get in the bunker now!" Ernestine says as we gather up any evidence of our presence and hide behind the bookshelf.

  I should be used to this by now, but I still hate it. There might be someone here ready to haul me back to the complex for all I know.

  My mother is talking to someone as she descends the stairs. "As you can see, we have changed the color of this room from tan to burgundy."

  A deep voice asks, "How is your escaped daughter's room coming along?"

  "Don't call it that. It is the second guest room now. Elira is as good as dead, I'm sure. Haven't you caught her? I heard you caught most of the escapees."

  The deep voice answers, "We caught two, but not her."

  Mother's laugh is fake to my ears. "You'll figure it out. I don't know about you, but the election is taking all of my time these days. It's hard to think about anything else."

  "Your son's chances are good. You should be proud."

  "I am. Let's take a peek at how the second guest room is coming along before we have some strawberry-rhubarb pie a la mode."

  I hear the stairs creak as Mother and the officer ascend the staircase again. I realize my whole body is tense. I force it to relax. Garth takes my hand and leads me to the couch. I melt into his side as he plays with my short blonde hair. "Your mother knows how to handle that peace officer. Just relax. Your dad should be home within the hour."

  I lean my head against Garth's jaw. "Will his news be good or bad?"

  Garth's breath tickles my ear as he whispers, "Good. We have to believe that people are naturally good at heart."

  "Why?"

  "If people aren't naturally good, then what are we fighting for?"

  Click. The door swings open. My mom walks in with a pie and a stack of plates. "May I join you until Ross gets home?"

  Garth jumps to his feet, takes the plates, and starts handing them out. "Yeah. But only because you brought us pie."

  Mother smirks as she sets the pie on one of the beds. "I want to stay in here to understand how you must feel waiting for someone to let you out."

  I love my mom for wanting to understand us. "It could be worse, Mom. Don't worry about us." She sits next to me on the couch. "I heard that peace officer talking about Brock's chances in the election. Do you think he could cause problems for Brock?"

  Ernestine blurts out from one of the bottom bunks, "If he was going to do that, I think he would have done it already."

  Mother nods. "I agree."

  "Okay."

  An hour later we're starting to doze off as the door opens and Father walks in. I can't tell if he's happy or sad. He sees the plate of pie we left him on the closest bed, picks it up, and takes a big bite. I can't believe he would leave me in this much suspense. Garth and I stand up and stare at Father as he chews. "Well? Will Henry do it?" I ask.

  Dad swallows and smiles. "Yes. He will do it, and it didn't even take a bribe."

  Chapter 5

  "Which car do you want to take, Elira?" my mom asks as my parents and I approach the garage the day of the fair.

  "Mine," I say enthusiastically.

  "I thought you'd say that." Mother walks to the passenger side of my purple car and stops before opening the door. "Wait. Why is there a scratch on this door?"

  "You'll have to ask the cactus that did it," I say as I slip into the back seat.

  "Oh," Mother says as she frowns at me.

  Father gives me a sympathetic look as he climbs into the driver's seat. "It was her first time driving. She did fine, Florence. I'm sure Bo at Car Essentials can make that scratch disappear in no time."

  "Mmmhmm," Mother mutters through pursed lips.

  I think it's a good time to change the subject. "Is Greggory going to meet us at the fair?"

  Father nods his head. "Yes. He went early to ride a few rides first."

  I keep twisting the ring on my finger around and around. "Oh, good. I won't be as nervous with him next to me."

  As we pull into an enormous, crowded parking lot, I worry that my dad will run over people's fee
t as they swarm around our car, but surprisingly, no one cringes in pain. "Mom, are you sure they won't recognize me?"

  Mother looks into the mirror on the sun visor to touch up her lipstick. "Yes, this crowding is your cover. If you don't recognize them, they won't recognize you."

  "Okay." My hands refuse to work as I attempt to open the car door. I try to look at ease and confident as I join the throng of people heading to the entrance of the fairgrounds. This crowd is different than the crowd at the Vote-Off. There are so many people my age with brightly colored outfits and weird-looking haircuts. I don't know if what I'm feeling about them is intrigue or repulsion.

  Mother and Father must not be as confused and lost as I am, because they walk us straight to a red colored booth with 'Brock Hamble for Senate' in white lettering. I see that Greggory beat us here. He yells out, "Edith is at the fair! I never thought I'd see the day."

  A smiley middle-aged man greets us and brings us under the red canopy. "Doctor and Mrs. Hamble, thank you for volunteering tonight. This must be your niece, Edith." He sticks out his hand and smiles at me as I shake it. "I am Douglas Shriner."

  "It's nice to meet you," I say through jittery lips.

  Douglas doesn't seem to notice my nervousness. "Are you excited to be helping your cousin?" he asks with a smile.

  "Y-yes," I say as I wobble in place.

  "Excellent. We have two booths at the fair this year, one on each side of the fairgrounds. I'll need two of you to stay at this one and two of you to join my campaign vice president, Damon, at the other booth."

  A middle-aged couple takes off the red 'Vote for Hamble' jackets they're wearing and hand them to my parents. "You must be our replacements. Put these on and we'll teach you how to approach people to give them a pamphlet." Mother and Father shrug at us and follow the couple.