“Somewhere between five or six months ago,” I respond.
“Really!” she says. I’m even surprised by how long it’s been since Xavier delivered us all here. “I can’t believe this is my first time meeting you!”
“I was sedated until a day ago,” I mutter.
Keturah’s face goes blank. The color drains from her face before she turns away. “Are you all right?” I ask. She looks around us and then, drags me faster away from the fitness center. “What’s wrong?”
“I used to be in the same boat,” she whispers. Her cheery disposition seems to melt from her with each step
we take away from the wellness center. “I came here with my girlfriend,” she continues to speak in a voice so quiet that I have to hold my breath while she speaks just to hear it. “I can’t remember how far along I was when we got here. Nikia and I were from Bayside.”
Queens—they’re a long way from home.
“We barely made it here. Nikia was a diabetic, and it took us months to get up here. Neither of us owned a car. I mean, we lived in the city, it wasn’t like we needed it. I knew my way around hot wiring though.” I frown. “I know, most people don’t think of me in that light, but I got into a lot of trouble when I was younger. I was a tomboy in a bad neighborhood,” she responds. “Not such a good combination in the long run.”
A bell rings out across the grounds—two o’ clock. A group of soldiers march in uniform past us. I recognize the woman in front by her husky voice. She glares at me on her way past, and I sneer in response. “What happened to your girlfriend?” I whisper.
She looks over her shoulder again before she continues. “When we got here, we were able to convince the guards that we were sisters. We heard that they took family in together, and Nikia was so sick that I created the whole lie,” she clenches her jaw. “It worked for quite some time. Nikia got her insulin, and her fever finally broke. She was supposed to be released from the doctor shortly after us arriving here.” Her gaze turns up towards the afternoon sun. The light changes the color of her eyes into a vibrant emerald.
I pity her. I wish I could say it in a different way, but she came here with only one person. And judging by the look on her face, something horrible is about to escape her mouth. “Back then, I didn’t know about the
listening devices and cameras they implanted in the rehabilitation rooms,” she says. “I went and visited her the day before she was supposed to be released. She asked about our baby, and I told her that she was going to be ok. I can’t count the amount of times I kissed her while I was there. And not the way you kiss your sister, that’s for sure. They came for me that night, the soldiers who wear the suits here, and sedated me. When I came to, I was six months along and Nikia was gone.”
“You don’t remember what happened to her?” I ask.
“The hypnotist says I do, but that it’s buried somewhere in my head,” she responds. “All of that story is from seeing the hypnotist so frequently. He thinks I’m suffering form Post—”
“Traumatic Stress Disorder.” She looks up at me and attempts to smile. “Don’t worry, I’m all too familiar with that,” I mumble. She squeezes my arm and I smile at her.
“You’ll find the answers you need at the hypnotist,” Keturah says. “I know it.”
We walk around the tallest and newest building in the fort and travel down an alleyway.
“Where is the hypnotist again?” I ask.
“I don’t know where he stays,” she responds. “I found him on accident. I got lost on my way back to my house, and he was just here.”
I nod my head, but I can’t shake this ominous weight in my gut. Walking down an alleyway with someone I just met? Seems like a formula for disaster.
Or what if the past that I want to be true is something that I made up in my head? Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, right? That could be what all this is. I blocked out Cassie’s death so well that it was like it never
happened. What if Xavier did die, and I’m just dreaming that he’s alive and waiting for me somewhere? Anything that my brain decides to make the truth could be covering up the fact that Xavier was shot and killed in front of the fort’s doors.
But Aisley is convinced that all these people here, the higher ups, Gunnar, the nurses—are lying to us. They want me to forget what happened to Xavier so that I can live in blissful ignorance.
As much as it hurts to lose Xavier, if he is dead, it’s final. There’s closure. Stuck somewhere in limbo like I am right now is confusing and just weighs me down. I have my family that I need to take care of. My baby, Aisley, and I can’t sit around and hope for Xavier to walk through the front gates here.
The alley gets darker as we make our way further past the buildings. My steps stagger as we finally come to the end of the alley. “Keturah, I don’t know if I want to do this,” I whisper. But Keturah releases my arm and backs away. I look back as she disappears around the corner.
“Hello Hayley,” a familiar voice says from the darkness of the alley. I turn and squint into the air in front of me until I finally see the dim form of a person.
“Please, come lie down,” the voice says. “I can help you remember.”
The Hypnotist
“Isha?” I ask.
The figure doesn’t answer me, but instead takes my hand and leads me to the boxes covered in a blanket. “Forgive the shabbiness of my couch,” the voice says. “I’m running on a strict budget.”
“Is that you, Isha?” I ask again as I lie down on the row of boxes.
“You know the restrictions that are in place here,” the voice says. “So you know that I cannot answer that question. But please, trust your instincts. They got you this far, didn’t they?”
Trust my instincts? My instincts are screaming at me to get out of here. But if this is Isha, I know part of me does trust him already. Even if it’s only for now.
“All right, what do we do?” I ask.
“Please relax and get as comfortable as possible,” he says. I lay my head down on a pile of blankets and breathe like I did in my meditation class. “That’s good,” he says. “Now focus on someone calling your name, someone you trust, someone who lives with us or is gone. Embrace that voice, let it melt into your head.”
Hayley. There it is—it’s him. A soft murmur escapes my lips, but I can’t return his calling.
“Breathe in,” the man’s voice says. “Breathe out. Go to the voice, move towards it. Listen.”
“Hayley.”
“Xavier?”
“But they’re my family!” he yells.
Gunfire echoes in my ears, rattling my eardrums with each calculated shot. My vision darkens, and I panic.
I’m not losing him—I’m not losing this moment. I reach out towards the darkness until my hand meets the stubble of his cheek. It is him; I can feel the scar on his cheek from when we were kids, and he fell off the fireman’s pole at the playground.
“Xavier?” I call out, my voice barely escaping my throat. He looks down at me with his icy gaze. He’s crying or at least has been. His eyes are bloodshot, and a cut on his cheek drips a deep red.
“Let me go!” I hear Aisley screaming to my left, but I can’t bring myself to break my gaze.
“You have to go here, I’ll be back to get you soon,” he says. I feel myself lower down onto clouds that prevent
me from falling. “I love you Hayles. Always have, always will.”
My vision temporarily fizzes like white noise on a television. I feel my lips move, “I love you too.” I try to hold on a bit longer, but I’m floating away now. My head feels like lead when I try to lift it.
“Xavier!” I hear Aisley cry.
I cough and catch the blood in between my teeth. If this is what death feels like, than I could go on dying forever.
“Hayley,” the man’s voice calls out. “You’re session seems to be over today. Please, do come back.”
I don’t want to open my eyes. I can still feel my hand cradling
Xavier’s cheek, his beating heart pounding against my palm. But most importantly, I still see his ice-blue eyes reflecting on the back of my eyelids.
“Hayley?” Keturah’s voice calls out to me. “Are you all right?”
It’s only now do I realize the tears streaming down both sides of my face. “Yeah,” I respond, and I open my eyes.
“I’ll see you later,” Keturah says walking past me towards the hypnotist.
“Yeah,” I mumble. She smiles and nods before disappearing into the hypnotist’s world.
I make my way towards the sunlight and raise my hand above my eyes. The sun is a lot lower than I remember it being before I saw the hypnotist. How long was I out for? My head pounds uncontrollably while I wander around the grounds.
Xavier’s alive—as far as I know anyway. Whatever memory I had of him dying wasn’t real. He took cover behind the soldier at the fort’s doors, and the gunfire blazed by us, but never hit any of us. I should be happy. But for some reason, this pull on my gut is drowning out the joy I should feel.
It’s like I’m in purgatory.
I have so much good here; Aisley is safe for the time being, my baby has the best chance of surviving in this environment over the outside. But, I’ll never be able to be whole again. To melt into someone who I loved since before I knew what love actually was. I wanted Xavier to be alive, but I also wanted closure. This new dream leaves so much open ended—so much unknown.
I feel lightheaded, and my feet fail to work properly. I slam my shoulder into the wall of the building on my right. I need to talk to Aisley. I have to tell her everything. But where’s safe? If they find out that I remember, they’ll wipe me clean.
“You’ll turn into a shell,” Aisley’s voice screams in my head.
“I know,” I whisper. She needs to know what I remember. If she knows, then she’ll be able to fill the gaps in my story. I grip the wall tightly, my knees tremble beneath my slouching body. I look up at the clock tower and see the metal bell swing preparing to ring out the hour. The face reads five—it can’t be that late, can it?
“Ms. Henderson, are you all right?” a voice calls out.
“I—”Hayles. His voice booms in my head so clear that I collapse to my knees.
“I need some help over here,” the voice says. I hear footsteps, so many footsteps.
“I’d rather give her a reason to come looking for me.”
My vision tunnels, and I let go. Xavier, where are you?
July 21, 2013
“Ms. Henderson,” a voice says. My eyes shutter open like the beginning of a movie reel. “Ms. Henderson,” the voice says again. I turn my head to face the sound and come eye to eye with Isha.
“I thought I told you to call me Hayley,” I croak. He smirks and nods his head to someone behind him.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
I sit up against the headboard of a bed and take in my surroundings; I’m back home. “Yeah,” I respond. “I guess I am.”
“You fainted in the middle of the square. Soldiers had to carry you back across the grounds to get you here,” he says. “It was quite the scene.”
“Does Aisley know?” I ask.
“We live in a fort,” he responds. “What do you think?”
I nod my head and look out the sliver of window to my left. “What happened?” he asks.
Does he really not know? I look at him and try to read his expression. It’s motionless though—crystal clear. I know that I heard his voice when I was hypnotized.
“Hayley?” he asks again.
“You know, don’t you?”
He shakes his head. I wait in silence trying to get a good look at his eyes, but he turns away before I can. “You’re a little dehydrated, but besides that everything is ok,” he says packing his doctor’s bag. “Baby and all.”
I lean my head back against the headboard and let out a long breath.
“Please do come back and see me if you need anything else,” he says just before he leaves. I look at him and see the slightest smile spread across his face before he walks out the door.
“Mom!” I hear Aisley’s voice screech from the front door. “Oh, sorry Doctor.”
“It’s quite all right,” he says. “Please, call me Isha.”
There’s a moment of silence before I hear Aisley’s response of, “No.” I have to stifle the laugh that tries to come out—that girl has got some attitude on her. The front door closes, and I hear Aisley drop her backpack on the kitchen floor.
“Mom,” she calls out again running into the bedroom. She dives into the bed and squeezes me around the neck. “I thought something horrible happened!” she cries into my shoulder. “When they said you were sick—they
said they were taking you back into Rehabilitation—they said—they—”
“Hey,” I say pulling her from my neck. “I’m here, aren’t I? I promised I was never going to leave you again.”
Her chest spasms with stifled sobs while she chews her bottom lip. I wrap my arms around her and bring her close to me again whispering what mother’s whisper into their children’s ears. The only thing I can come up with is singing a Johnny Cash song.
“You are the biggest cliche I’ve ever seen in my life right now. Listening toFolsom Prison Blueswith a gun in the cup holder?” I can practically see Xavier blushing. My head pounds from the flashback—thank you Isha for lying me down in a bed.
I look up at the small blinking red dot behind the vent in my room and have to bite my tongue to prevent me from screaming. That dot isn’t just a reminder of our secret constantly being under the gun. It’s bigger than that; it’s death. I look at it and try to imagine that little red dot seeing Nikia and Keturah kissing—one beautiful moment that they thought was being shared in private. All of their running, their sacrifices, lost to one moment of safety.
I squeeze Aisley tighter and grind my teeth to take out my disgust with what this Fort has to offer. On one hand, Xavier risked everything bringing us here. He gave up his own safety from the cannibals to let us live as a family—until the time was right to start looking for him. That’s what he said in my dream, or reality or whatever the hypnotist put me in.
But the time isn’t right. I’m barely reaching six months. I can’t live like we did before in the Wild. I shudder at the thought of all the women out there who were
like I am now; how did they survive? My mind can only assume the worst.
“You promise?” Aisley whispers like a broken record into my ear. I let her lay in the crook of my arm on her side. She buries her face into my chest again and drapes her arm across my stomach. I gasp at the sight of purple littering her arm along with the bandage, now red with blood. I reach out and touch the misshapen bruises—is this what safety looks like?
I’d rather give her a reason to come looking for me. Is this what you meant by those words, Xavier? Maybe you didn’t just say that so that I would come looking for you, but maybe you knew that with all good things comes a price.
Look at you and I—we’re poster children for it. I was only allowed to love you because my sister died. We have a child by some miracle that you might not ever see. And though Aisley isn’t ours, you’ll most likely never see her grow up either. But were safe from the outside. From the crazies running around eating people to survive. Now, it’s just me who gets to watch her bleed into the militarized lifestyle of the Fort.
Safety with a price—Nikia, Keturah, Xavier, Aisley and I. How are we going to get out of here alive? The thought even shocks me, but I know it’s true for some reason. We’re always going to have to sacrifice something to keep getting by.
“I promise,” I say aloud to one of Aisley’s murmurs. But I’m not saying it to her. I’m saying it to everyone here that had to sacrifice to be safe. That had to give up everything they had to make it here in the first place, only to have what little they gained along the way torn from
them again. And if that’s what this place is going to be like, then we can
’t stay.
“I promise.”
Reality
“Mom, Tristan. Tristan, Mom,” Aisley says holding out our arms like we’re puppets. “Now shake hands and get along because I said so.”
“Hi Tristan,” I say.
Tristan smiles and nods his head. “Hi Ms. Henderson,” he responds. Tristan has bright white blond hair that makes it hard to see in this summer sunlight. He’s a little shorter than Aisley, but I’m sure that’ll change down the road.
“Tristan is my friend here,” Aisley explains. “We met while you were getting better.”
“Well, thank you for keeping my daughter company,” I say shaking his hand firmly. A smile too big for his face stretches even wider.
“So Tristan, where do you live?”
“I was in Third Class Housing over by the front gates,” he says. “But now I’m in Camp.”
I look over at Aisley, and she nods her head to cure my disbelief. “Why did you move?”
“My dad died,” he responds. “My mom wasn’t really around. It was my dad and I here until he got sick.”
“I’m so sorry, Tristan.”
“It’s ok,” he says. “Besides, I’ve been in advanced classes. My dad was retired from the army which is why I was placed in them. I kinda got it quicker than the other kids.”
“Except for me,” Aisley chimes in.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Your daughter, Ms. Henderson, is a badass.” Aisley smiles, and her cheeks go red.
If I Lose Page 4