"Peet seh? I don't think so. It must not be one of Chef Freda's specialties."
Greggory snorts. "Oh, I'm sure she could make a fine pizza if she wanted to. Mom and Dad just have a more refined palate than the rest of us."
"Do they sell it around here?"
He points straight ahead. "Yeah, that little shop on the end there sells it by the slice during lunch time. Do you want to try it?"
"Sure."
We set our shopping bags down at a little table in the tiny dining room of Toto's Pizzeria. My brother directs me to a glass and metal contraption covered in delicious looking circles. I pick out a slice covered in meats and another one covered in vegetables. I feel my mouth water as I wonder which one I'll like the best. Greggory picks one slice covered in ham and pineapple and another covered in chicken and spinach. He pays the owner from his own wallet. No one bothers us as we sit down and eat. I really like both of my flavors. The meat one is especially good, but then I try a bite of each of Greggory's slices and I change my mind. The chicken one positively sings in my mouth. I give my brother a thumbs up sign as I chew it.
As we pick up our shopping bags and head to the door, the old man behind the counter says, "You two be careful out there, okay. If you ever need something, you come talk to your Uncle Toto."
Greggory nods at the man. "We will. Thank you, my friend."
I smile at the old man and whisper to my brother as we leave. "Do you know him?"
He nods. "Jack and I used to get pizza here all the time. He remembers me."
"Will he turn us in?"
My brother looks back at the pizzeria. "Nah. He has secrets of his own, and he values loyal customers."
"Good."
Chapter 21
When we get back to our secret bungalow, Greggory adds another layer of boxes to the wall that we will use for our changing room. I organize the clutter pushed around the sides of the room and wash down anything I missed yesterday.
"Do you want to use these for our new clothes?"
Greggory looks into the box I hand him. "Yeah."
Greggory rummages through the old box of hangers I find, and hangs our new clothes on the wall of cardboard boxes. He's probably used to having a walk-in closet. I do a quick check of all the food we have. Greggory did well choosing foods that don't have to be cooked. I'm just concerned about how we're going to handle the showering and going to the bathroom part of life.
When I ask Greggory about that, he says, "There is a half bathroom upstairs that the employees of the car wash used to use. I tried it this morning. The toilet and sink still work."
I light up with this news. "That's a relief. I'm sure it needs a good cleaning though."
Greggory shudders. "Yeah, it's just as bad as this room was last night."
I imagine shoving my arms and legs in the sink. "How will we bathe or shower?"
My brother scratches his head. "Well, this is a car wash, surely we can wash our bodies here too." He snaps his fingers. "We can either use the high-power sprayer or fill the giant soaker solution bucket with hot water for a bath. Which would you prefer?"
I imagine trying to spray myself, or worse yet, my brother spraying me, while I'm naked, with a high-power sprayer. "I'll probably go for the giant bucket bath. I'll go clean the bathroom first. Will you fill the bucket with hot water for me afterward?"
Greggory shrugs. "Yeah. I'll leave it outside the bathroom door."
"Are there any better cleaning supplies up there?"
"Yeah, tons. I'll show you."
Greggory opens a cupboard by the bathroom door to reveal soaps, scrub brushes, rags, towels, small buckets, and something called a squeegee. He shows me how to use the squeegee to basically scrape water off of windows. He decides to wash his car while I scrub down the bathroom.
The half bathroom is surprisingly big and disgustingly dirty. It's tiled floor to ceiling and there is a huge drain in one corner. I decide to hurl a small bucket of soapy water all over the walls, sink, and toilet and let it soak before I start scrubbing. It's weird, but I'm actually thankful for the time I had to scrub the bathroom in the glass dorm for job research weeks now that I have to do this. I am surprised to see that the bathroom tile is white instead of brown after I get the years of grime off everything. It kind of reminds me of the white bathroom in the glass dorm once it's clean and sparkling.
I open the door to the bathroom to find a huge black bucket full of hot water waiting for me. I try to drag it into the bathroom by myself but it's too heavy. Greggory sees me struggling and helps me by pushing the bucket through the door. Once it's in the corner I can close the door behind me. The dim light bulb hanging above my head doesn't let me see every detail of the bucket, but it looks like Greggory scrubbed it down before he filled it with water. I take off my clothes and sink down until I'm sitting on the bottom of the giant make-shift tub. My head and knees are sticking out, but the rest of me is covered in hot water. Ahh. It feels so good. I could almost fall asleep. I close my eyes for just a few seconds...
Knock, Knock. What? Who's that? What's going on?
"Elira, you've been in there for over an hour. Maybe you should get out now. I would feel better if I could see where you are."
I rub my eyes with my wet hand, which doesn't help, it just makes my eyes sting. "Sorry, I fell asleep. I'll be right out." I quickly wash myself head to toe with a weird bottle of soap. The water is barely warm anymore when I climb out of the giant bucket. Once I'm dressed in my new plain clothes, I try to figure out what to do with the water. The drain is in a low spot in the corner. Should I just dump the bucket on the floor and let the water go down the drain? Why not? I stand on the toilet lid as I tip the giant bucket over. It splashes like a tidal wave at first, but the water follows the tilt of the tiled floor and goes down the drain. I use the squeegee to help the water get there. The towel I used to dry myself off with helps me mop up the remaining wet spots on the floor. That wasn't so bad. I could do that every other day.
When I get back to our basement bungalow, Greggory has a sandwich and a bag of potato chips waiting for me on the couch. The old television shows us some very unhappy-looking politicians. "You've got to see this, Elira. There were riots at every single city building in the country today. The people of the United Cities are outraged by what is going on in the complexes."
"Really? That's perfect," I say through a mouth full of chips. "I just hope Brock can get something written up to change the law without any of us to help him."
Greggory crumples his chip bag. "He is! I'm sure they'll come back to that story in a minute. The other government officials have been condemning Brock all day because you and I supposedly started this uproar."
Wet chip flecks fly out of my mouth as I exclaim, "Were you sleepwalking last night? We definitely did start this uproar!"
Greggory doesn't look amused as he wipes potato goo off his cheek with his hand. "Don't talk with your mouth full, and don't interrupt me. The common people of the country are flocking to Brock and begging him to change the Complex Law. He said he would have a public statement at 7:00 tonight from Adanlay."
I grab Greggory's arm and look at his watch. "So, any minute now."
"Yep. Ahh, here it is."
I watch my brother exit an official-looking government building and walk to a cluster of microphones. He is less smiley than usual today; his determination is plain to see.
"Hello, my fellow citizens of the United Cities. It has been an exciting few days for me and for you. I want to thank all of you who voted for me and all of you who have stayed by my side since finding out that my sister, who has escaped the Herrington Complex of Undesirables, has also been reunited with my family and helping me with my campaign. She is the one who opened my eyes to the value of people with physical flaws. I have not spent much time around people with physical flaw
s because the Complex Law has sent them all away to be slaves in order to make other people rich. That is not morally or ethically right as you could tell from the horrific video my siblings put on the air yesterday. I cringe to imagine my unborn son joining those poor people's ranks when he is two years old. Yes. My unborn son has a heart defect, and if the law does not change, he will be taken away from me. This fact, as well as reuniting with my sister, has helped me decide to do something about the law. In fact, I am proposing we disband the entire Complex Law. If I am successful, that would mean that your children and siblings who have been shut away in the Complex of Undesirables for who knows how long, would be released to you. That also means that your elderly parents and aunts and uncles would be released to you. That is a lot of responsibility that our citizens have never had to shoulder. Are you up to that challenge?"
An enormous crowd that we can't see from our vantage point erupts into cheers of "YES! YEAH!"
My stately brother continues, "If we disband the Complex Law, then we will also be free to leave the country. My fellow senators have let me know, in no uncertain terms, that if we disband the Complex Law, they believe you all will flee the country with your loved ones as quickly as you can." Brock pauses for emphasis as the crowd mumbles. "I have assured them that we are still proud citizens of the United Cities. We will stay together no matter what and take care of each other even with added responsibilities to citizens who have been shut away. Was I right to say that?"
"YES! YEAH!"
He smiles with confidence. "I knew I was right. We are a strong country and we want to treat everyone fairly no matter what their flaw is. If you are under the delusion that you do not have a flaw, do a quick self-evaluation; is there any physical, mental, emotional, or financial imperfection about you? We all have them. That's what makes us human and helps us try harder. Will you help me disband the Complex Law?"
"YES!"
"I knew you would. It will take your votes. Thank you all for your fine support, and God bless you all."
Wow. My brother isn't just a smiling face. He is-a leader.
Chapter 22
I wake up to the sound of knocking on our hideaway door. I jump out of bed and start hyperventilating. "Greggory! Get up! They found us. I don't know how, but the peace officers found us."
My brother rolls onto his back on the couch and opens his eyes. "I doubt it. If peace officers are here, they'll just break the door down and grab us. It's probably one of our friends. Go ask."
I swallow the lump in my throat and wobble to our shabby wooden door that hides us from the rest of the world. I press my ear against it and ask, "Who's there?"
I hear a familiar, deep female voice answer back, "It's me, Ernestine. Let me in." I unlock the door and let my disguised friend in.
I am so thrilled that it's her. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"
She chuckles in her gruff way. "Well, that depends on what you call wrong. If you don't like riots, then everything is wrong, but if you're like me, then all of this dissatisfaction with the government means everything is right." Her smile is contagious.
I smile and clap my hands. "Come in and sit down. I want to know everything that is going on."
"I actually don't know a whole lot, because I'm in hiding, like you, except I don't have a television. You lucky ducks, can we turn that on?"
"Sure." Greggory turns on the television and then goes to the fridge to get us each a bowl of cereal for breakfast.
Nothing particularly exciting is airing on the national news station at the moment. I turn down the volume so we can hear each other better.
"So, how is everyone?"
"Well, Avra is walking a few steps at a time now. Scott has made it his goal to get her back to the way she was. Rocky is climbing the walls. He wants to leave the bunker with me so he can see his dad, but he just doesn't have the skill for how I've been coming in and out of the house with peace officers around 24/7."
I have a thought. "But if you could get him out once-couldn't the two of you just stay with Frank? Or is he as distasteful to you as ever?"
Ernestine looks at me like I'm a genius. "I-hadn't thought about it, but that is a good idea. I'd do anything to get out of that small, dark-We'd stay in separate rooms of course."
I smile at her. "Of course. So-how is Garth?"
Ernestine chuckles as she leans back on our old couch. "He's like a love-sick puppy dog without you."
A smile creeps onto my face. "Really?"
She grins with her crooked teeth and shakes her head. "Yeah. I have a note from him, but you can't have it until I say what I came here to say."
I slap the couch in frustration. "Oh, come on, Ernestine. Just give it to me!"
"No, I need you to focus with me for just a little bit longer. Brock has been asked to attend a meeting with the Herrington complex chief."
That is interesting. "How do you know that?"
"Well, it looks like it's the breaking news right now," Ernestine says as she points to the television. The headline blaring across the screen reads 'Senator Hamble to Meet with Herrington Complex Chief Tonight.' She leans toward me. "I knew about it late last night because your mother has been slipping notes to me through a crack on the side of the bookshelf."
"So he's going, right?"
She nods. "He is definitely going. He just really wants you to be there with him."
I laugh out loud. "I wish I could, but there's no way the complex chief would let me leave there again."
Ernestine's sly, revolutionary side surfaces. "What if you were disguised? A disguise that you've never used before."
I shake my head in defeat. "I can't get to my mother's box of tricks. I don't think I can pull it off with what I have here."
"You said yesterday that you have friends who will help you. Would they help you disguise yourself like an elderly office aide before 7:00 tonight?"
"I-I don't know, maybe. If I can't pull it off, will Brock just go to the meeting without me?"
Ernestine raises her eyebrows. "Yes. He will pick you and Damon up at 6:15 at the museum parking lot. If you aren't ready, he'll leave without you."
I pause as I consider all of my resources. "Okay, I think I can be ready by then. I will do my very best."
"That's my girl. Now you can have your letter." She pulls a white square of folded paper out of her pocket and dangles it in front of my face. I snatch the note faster than she can protect her hand from my fingernails. "Ow! You scratched me!"
"Sorry. Can I write something to him quickly, so you can take it back to him?"
Ernestine turns up the television and shrugs. "Sure."
"Thank you." I stick the note from Garth into the pocket of my jumpsuit that I'm using as pajamas, and rush to the little desk with the telephone to see what there is to write on. I find two pencils, two pens, and a long, skinny notepad that says 'Sparkly Clean Car Wash' on the top of it.
My handwriting is kind of sloppy as I hurry to put my thoughts on paper.
Dear Garth,
Can you believe what is going on? It's so exciting that our plan is working, yet sad that we're both in hiding, miles away from each other. I wish we could meet. I haven't read your note from Ernestine yet, but do you miss me at all? I miss you so much, even my toenails feel it. I'm safe and happy otherwise. Greggory and I are living in an old abandoned car wash storage room. It's comfortable enough, but I can't wait to come home. If Brock does his part, I'll be able to come home without a disguise. That kind of freedom would be delicious to me. Ernestine wants to go, so I have to end this note. I think about you every single day. I love you, Elira
Ernestine stands up and shuts off the television. "I like your little hideaway. It reminds me of my house."
I smirk as I wrap my arms around me friend. "You and Rocky should definitely s
tay with Frank. Tell my mom and dad that I love them and give this to Garth."
"Okay, kid. Get your disguise together and help your brother stand up to the complex chief tonight, for all our sakes."
Her eyes tell me how serious this meeting is. "I will. I don't know how, but somehow, I'll do it. Thank you, Ernestine."
"Just keep telling yourself that freedom is worth it. You can do this."
Ernestine leaves and I use our new walk-in box closet to get dressed. I pull the folded piece of paper out of the jumpsuit pocket. My fingers can't open it fast enough.
Dear Elira,
I hope you're okay. I have been beating myself up about leaving you at the news station with Greggory ever since I watched the video live. The whole thing aired before they shut it off, by the way. Your mom was thrilled about that even though she was angry that you went with Greggory. She told me I couldn't drive for a month. I should have stayed to help and protect you. Now I'm not exactly sure where you are, and I'm trying not to strangle everyone in the bunker with me. I mean, I'm thankful to be safe, but Rocky can be really annoying in close quarters. Watching Scott and Avra together makes me lonely, and Ernestine's restlessness is contagious. If you were here, these four walls would feel like paradise instead of a prison. Ernestine says we may have to stay in here for months. I can't even imagine that. I might not survive. Please don't forget me. Thinking of you is the only thing that keeps me sane in here. If we last until Brock changes the Complex Law, it will be worth it. Someday, this will just be an interesting story to laugh about. I can't wait to have you back in my arms.
Write to me soon.
I love you more than anything,
Garth
My mind is going a million miles an hour as I sit at the table and smear the new makeup on my birthmark. Poor Garth. I shouldn't complain about my situation; it could be so much worse. I can at least have a bucket bath whenever I want one. I wish I had a mirror though. "Is there a mirror around here anywhere, Greggory?"
The Complex Leader Page 12