Born and Raised

by R A Doty

  “Full responsibility!” Thomas yelled. “What good is that gonna do if she slices one of our throats when we’re sleeping?”

  “I said, shut up, Tom.” Luke released Janette’s arm. “Okay, brother. But you’d better be careful.”

  Janette rubbed her arm where Luke had held her. She looked at Dan. The tough girl returned. “So am I suppose to thank you or something?”

  Dan shook his head. “No. Just don’t kill me.” He thought he noticed a slight smile forming in the corners of Janette’s mouth, but it didn’t last long enough to be sure.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Colton said. “But Monica took a turn for the worse. Are you sure you don’t have any penicillin on the estate?”

  “I’m positive,” Thomas said. “But there’s some at my lab in the city.”

  “Can you get it?”

  Thomas shivered at the thought of going back to the city.

  Colton saw it on his face. “I’ll get it if you tell me how to get there,” he said.

  “My lab is located on the corner of Elm and Union. The penicillin would be locked in a steel cabinet in the kitchen.” Thomas reached into his pocket and retrieved a key ring. He removed one of the keys and handed it to Colton.

  “What about the key to the building?” Colton said.

  “The door was kicked in the day I left, so I doubt very much it’ll be locked.”

  “I’m gonna take off then,” Colton said. “With any kind of luck, I’ll return before nightfall.”

  “I’d stay away from Main Street if I were you,” Janette said. “Especially this time of day. They’ll be patrolling the streets in that area.”

  “You know your way around there pretty good don’t you?” Colton said.

  “I should. I grew up in that neighborhood. I know every inch of it.”

  “Maybe we should go with you, Cole,” Dan said.

  “The fuck I will!” Janette said, understanding that “we” meant Dan and her—considering he assumed responsibility for her.

  “Hey,” Dan said. “What’d I say about swearing?”

  “Well I’m not going back there again. Are you crazy? They’ll kill us if they catch us. Especially me ‘cause I didn’t return with them.”

  “You said you wanted to stay with us right?” Luke said. “Consider it an initiation. Or you can leave right now, and I’ll lock the gate behind you.”

  Janette shook her head. “This is suicide.” She made eye contact with each of the men as she contemplated her decision. “Can I at least have a decent meal before we go, considering it’ll probably be my last? We should wait a while, anyway. It’ll be safer toward evening. They’ll all most likely be inside the church, praying.”

  “I guess that’ll be okay,” Colton said. “Monica should be fine for a few more hours.”

  “I’ll put on some pork chops,” Luke said, glaring at Janette as he walked past.

  “Can you whip up some mashed potatoes with that, too?” Janette asked, purposely pushing her luck.

  “Would you like some wine, too?” Luke responded with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  “Actually, that’d be great.”

  Chapter Thirty

  CALLA LED APRIL TO the rear of her house. She faced her before opening the door. “Now remember, you’re supposed to be homeless and your parents just died.”

  “What do I say if your parents ask when they died?”

  “Tell them it happened a month ago.”

  “Why a month?”

  “I don’t know. Does it matter?”

  “Well, it matters if it doesn’t sound logical that I could have survived on my own without shelter or food for an unbelievable amount of time.” She remembered what the Elite ate and tried to persuade Calla to confess. “What would I have eaten for a month?”

  Calla lowered her head, considering the question. Food was rarely wasted in Ancada, so it probably would sound unbelievable that April could have survived by eating scraps from garbage cans. “Okay, you’re right. Say it just happened a few weeks ago. You could have survived a couple of weeks without eating.” She pinched April’s side. “You are kinda skinny.” April smiled, and Calla grabbed the doorknob. “You ready?”

  April took a deep breath. Calla was obviously not like the others, because she had decided to communicate with her and the other nutrimen. But what would her parents be like? Maybe they would be able to tell she was a nutrimen and not be as compassionate as their daughter. They may even attack her if they thought she was food. Her heart raced, as she nodded to Calla that she was ready. When Calla opened the door, she hid behind her.

  Calla entered the house. “Mother. Father. You home?” She guided April inside and then closed the door.

  “I’m up here, Calla,” Jillian Wilkinson said from the second floor.

  Calla headed toward the steps. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to my mother. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that our plan works,” she whispered.

  April didn’t understand why she had to cross her fingers, but she did it anyway. Her hands looked like a crab’s claws after twisting all of her fingers together. When she approached the stairs, she placed her foot on the first tread and then back off. She looked up as Calla ascended forward. She tried to grab the railing to help steady herself, but her crossed fingers made it impossible to hold on.

  When Calla noticed April wasn’t behind her, she rushed back down to get her. “What’s wrong with your hands?” she asked, eyeing April’s fingers.

  “You said to cross my fingers.”

  Calla smiled. “I didn’t mean like that. It’s more of a figure of speech. Here let me,” she said, placing April’s hand on the railing. “Hold onto the bannister and pull yourself up the stairs.” She got behind April and gave her a nudge.

  April gripped the bannister with both hands and pulled herself forward—the same way she climbed the stairs in the wall outside. The first step was the hardest, but each subsequent step was a little easier. She smiled, nearing the last step. When she reached the landing she turned and looked down the staircase. She felt lightheaded, being so high in the air, and backed into the wall.

  “Shh,” Calla said, her forefinger pressed to her lips.

  “Is that you, Calla?” Jillian asked.

  “Yes, Mother. I accidentally bumped the wall.” Calla leaned toward April. “Follow me.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Jillian asked. “Is someone with you?”

  Calla guided April down the hallway and into her parent’s bedroom. “I have someone I want you to meet, mother.”

  Jillian had just finished changing the pillowcase on the bed. When she turned around, her attention went right to the filthy girl standing next to her daughter. She stood silent, her mouth slightly open.

  April tried to avoid making eye contact with the woman. Although she was curious as to what Calla’s mother looked like, she wasn’t sure if she would be as pleasant as Calla.

  “This is April, Mother. She’s a friend of mine.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  “She and her parents had an accident, and that’s why she looks this way.”

  “Is anyone hurt? Where are her parents? Do they need help?”

  “No, Mother. It happened a while ago.” Calla put her hand on April’s shoulder. “Her parent’s died, and she’s been homeless ever since.”

  Jillian walked over to April. “Oh, you poor, dear.” She reached for her hand but decided against it after seeing how dirty it was. “You must be devastated. Let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes. Take her to the bathroom, Calla, and while she showers get her something of yours to wear.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Calla took April by the hand and gave it a little squeeze before leading her down the hall—a gesture that suggested— so far, so good. When they entered the bathroom she closed the door behind them. “We did it!” she whispered, grabbing April’s hands and jumping up and down.

  “Your mother doesn’t seem like the type that could hurt someone,”
April said, when Calla calmed down.

  Calla snickered. “Of course she wouldn’t hurt anyone. Why would you say that? Now let’s get you cleaned up and into some real clothes. You take a shower while I find something for you to wear.”

  April turned to the wall of glass, assuming it was the bathing area. It was unlike the kennel’s shower, which had no door and the walls were made of concrete. She tapped the glass, trying to make it open.

  “Here, let me,” Calla said, pushing a chrome button. The glass slid sideways, vanishing into the wall.

  April touched the wall, wondering where it went.

  “When you take off your clothes, just throw them on the floor,” Calla said. “I’ll get them when I come back.” She reached around April and turned on the water. It spitted and sputtered before hitting the wall. After adjusting the temperature to what she felt was right, she dried her hand on a towel hanging on the wall. “You see this button?” She pointed to another chrome button on the inside of the shower.

  April nodded.

  “Just push it when you get in the shower and then again when you’re finished to open the door. I’ll be back in a little while.” Calla left and closed the door on the way out.

  April began to remove her clothes. Her head turned in all directions, admiring how clean everything looked. Shiny white tiles covered the walls from floor to ceiling, and larger gray tiles covered the floor. A bright white waste receptacle stood in the corner. She thought how comfortable it must feel to sit on, unlike the yellowed, rusted one she had shared with the other nutrimen. And then she noticed what looked like a square hole in the wall that led to another room. She walked over to it and gasped when a girl from the other room stepped in front of the hole at the exact moment she did. When she backed away from the opening, the girl did the same. She moved her head to the left, and the girl copied. She extended her arm, and so did the girl. When she tried to touch the girl’s hand, she was blocked by a hard surface. She leaned closer and smiled, realizing she was the girl. I do look like a real girl, just like Calla and Sarah. She touched her hair and then her face. Her eyes looked similar to Calla’s, as did her nose.

  After five more minutes of staring at her reflection, she walked to the shower—the floor was cool beneath her bare feet. Once inside, she pushed the button and smiled when the glass wall reappeared. She pushed the button again, and the wall vanished. She pushed it again and it reappeared. She spotted a second button with a spout beneath it. She pushed it and a pink liquid oozed from the spout. She pushed it again with her hand under the spout and caught the liquid. It smelled wonderful. She wiped it on her arm and it peeled away the dirt. A pink rag hung from a hook on the wall. She removed it and held it under the spout while pushing the button. After it was coated with the liquid, she rubbed the cloth all over her body and smiled when she was covered in white lather. She rubbed the cloth on her hair, and it too became covered with lather. Her scalp tingled with pleasure as she massaged her fingers through her hair. When she had finished, the pulsating water removed all the lather from her body.

  It was now time to make the water stop. She turned the handle that Calla had touched to the left and jumped back when the water got cold. She turned it to the right and the water began to steam. A thick cloud filled the shower and her skin began to perspire. She searched for the button to open the door, but the water scalded her hand. The air became heavy and she breathed faster, trying to catch her breath. And then the door opened and the water stopped.

  “Oh my god, April! Are you all right?” Calla said, helping her from the shower. “You poor thing. I forgot to show you how to turn the water off.”

  “I’m fine,” April said. “I tried to do it myself, but I wasn’t sure how.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Calla grabbed the towel from the wall. “Let’s get you dried off and into some clothes.”

  “Do I look clean, now?”

  “You look very clean. A little too clean.”

  After drying April off and dressing her in a pair of clean denim jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt, Calla led her new houseguest to her bedroom where they stayed for most of the day. She taught April everything she thought would be important if she was going to make her “fit-in.” Fortunately, April was already up-to-date on current events not only in Ancada, but on a global level as well—thanks to Calla’s tablet. She decided to let Calla educate her anyway and pretended it was all new to her. Hours passed as the girls sat on the bed, talking away the day.

  April looked up when she heard a voice coming from the ceiling.

  “Welcome home, Don.”

  “Father’s home!” Calla said. Do you remember the story?”

  April nodded. “I think so.”

  “We better go over it one more time.” Calla quizzed April repeatedly to make sure she had the facts right. After she was convinced they were ready, she grabbed her hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my father.” She led April downstairs to the living room, where Don Wilkinson was sitting on the couch next to his wife. He stood when the girls approached.

  “This is April, Father.”

  “Yes, I know. You’re mother already clued me in.” He extended his arm. “It’s nice to meet you, April. I’m Don.”

  April stared at his hand and reluctantly lifted her arm, repeating his gesture. She wondered what he wanted from her and was surprised when he grabbed her hand and shook it gently.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, sir,” she said. She was drawn to his blue eyes. “You have very colorful eyes.”

  “Well thank you. I don’t believe anyone’s ever said that to me. Why don’t you girls have a seat.” He motioned toward the couch.

  Calla sat on the end, and April sat between her and Jillian.

  “So, my wife tells me you and your parents were in an accident?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear they didn’t survive.”

  “Thank you.” April lowered her head. It was harder to lie than she thought it would be. She felt odd not telling the truth.

  “April’s been living off the streets since the accident,” Calla said. “She had no money to keep their home, so she had no other choice.”

  Don faced his wife. “Well we can’t have that, now can we Jillian?”

  “Of course not. She can stay with us until we determine what’s best for her. We can put another bed in Calla’s room, and she can sleep there. If that’s okay with you, Calla?”

  “I’d love to have a roommate.”

  “Maybe I can talk to Bill Weston about getting her a job with you at the kennels,” Donald said.

  Calla panicked at the thought. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. April doesn’t like being around the nutrimen.”

  “Why is that?” Donald asked.

  “Their silence frightens me,” April said.

  “I see.”

  “Maybe she can help around the house,” Calla said. “She can clean and help Mother with her tasks.”

  Jillian nodded. “I could use the help.”

  “Well good,” Donald said. “It’s settled then.”

  Calla grabbed April’s hand. “Isn’t this exciting? It’ll be like having a little sister. Come on, April. Let’s go make some room for you.”

  “Don’t get too occupied with anything,” Jillian said. “You girls can help prepare dinner in a while.”

  “Okay. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  Calla and April rushed down the hall and into the bedroom. After closing the door, Calla hugged April. “Oh, April, we did it. Why don’t you look around my room to get used to it, and I’ll go help mother with dinner.” She didn’t want April to see what, exactly, dinner would be made from. It was another challenge that had to be met at some point, but she needed time to explain it to April as delicately as possible. This, she knew, would be the biggest obstacle of all. “I’ll come and get you when dinner’s ready,” she said, leaving the room.

  When Calla left, April walked arou
nd the bedroom, inspecting everything she saw. Things she had no idea what they were or what purpose they served—like a small box filled with colorful stones attached to golden chains. Or bottles filled with scented liquid. She raised one up to her nose and quickly pulled it away. After inspecting everything that peeked her interest, she ventured out of the room and down the hall, studying the square pictures hanging on the wall. In one of them, a small girl stood between Calla’s parents. She assumed it was a much younger Calla. She continued toward the kitchen.

  JILLIAN MOVED SWIFTLY, chopping a carrot on the island counter, while Calla washed a head of lettuce in the sink. “She’s just nervous and a little shy, right now,” Calla said. That’s why she isn’t talking much. Once she gets used to you she won’t be so frightened.”

  “Frightened?” Jillian said with a laugh. “Why would she be frightened?”

  Calla smiled. “I don’t know. You do look pretty scary the way you’re holding that knife.”

  Jillian held up the knife; it did look somewhat scary, she had to admit.

  April stopped just outside the kitchen and ducked around the corner when she saw the knife.

  “This would easily remove her head,” Jillian said. “And then I’ll remove her limbs, one by one.”

  April tensed. Everything she had feared was coming true. She needed to run but her legs were frozen. The door was so close. She reached for the handle, forcing herself forward.

  Her body trembled, and she felt light-headed. The walls started spinning. From the kitchen she heard laughter. How could they be so deceptive and cruel? She slid the door open, stepped outside, and quietly closed it behind her. The laughter stopped.

  Run! Run! But, where? Anywhere! Just run! She began to run as fast as she could. She passed house after house, all brightly lit, all preparing dinner—nutrimen, she thought, glancing through the windows.

  She ran down an alley and stopped next to a dumpster. Her heart pounded and breathing came quick and hard. There was no Manolin to help her calm down this time. She tried on her own, tried to breathe slower. Manolin would no longer be there.