Eden Box Set

by G. C. Julien

I pull away.

  “You don’t have to say it,” she says. “I’ll go with him.”

  I stare into her blue eye. It looks like a little galaxy filled with hundreds of planets. How does she always know what I’m thinking? Is she spying on me? I look away, guilty for having such thoughts. Freyda has always been so loyal to me. She would never betray me.

  “But I have a few requests,” she continues.

  I raise my chin and watch her thick lips as they move.

  “I know Dakota is coming with us because we need a pilot. But I’d also like to bring Jada, Miller, and Yael.”

  I know these names, but I can’t quite seem to put a face to them.

  “Jada used to be on the police force, too. K-9 unit. Miller’s ex-military, and Yael, well, I don’t know her history, but she’s the one who’s been asking to teach martial arts to the kids. She’s talked about her old dojo a few—”

  I lean back in my chair and offer a brief nod. “That’s fine. Whatever you need.”

  She bows her head as a way of thanking me, something she often does.

  I stare at her protruding jawline, her perfectly shaped eyebrows, her hairline, and I wonder: what if this is the last time I see her? What if she doesn’t return? What if—

  “Get out,” I say.

  She eyes me from underneath slanted eyebrows. I realize my tone came about unexpectedly, but this isn’t the time for goodbyes. I can’t allow myself to feel anything.

  She pushes her chair back, presses her hands on her knees, and stands up.

  “Is there anything—”

  “You’re perfectly capable of managing this yourself, Freyda,” I say, staring at my fingernails. “You’re in charge of this team… Of whoever you want to bring with you. I expect you and these women to go within the hour. That should give you enough time to prepare some food, water, and clothing.”

  I see her nod in my peripheral, but I don’t look up. I clench my teeth at the sound of her footsteps as they make their way to the door. I hear her turn toward me, her vest chafing the way it always does when she rotates her body, but my eyes remain fixated on my nails, which are now digging into the desk’s wood.

  “We’ll see each other again,” she says, and my throat swells. The moment she opens the door, I look up at her, seeing only her long ponytail dangling behind her back before she disappears from sight.

  I stretch my neck to the side, a loud snap filling the air around me, and lean my head back against my chair’s headrest. I blink several times, my moist eyes burning as they remain fixated on the ceiling above me.

  Emotions are a weakness, I remind myself.

  CHAPTER 17 – LUCY

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea you see her right now,” Nola says, staring into my eyes the way my mom used to. It’s a look that says, “I know better than you right now, and you have to trust me.”

  But I can’t sit around wondering how Emily’s doing. Did Dr. Lewis figure out what’s wrong with her? That’s all I want to know. Not knowing is what’s terrifying me. Is it contagious? Or is it something else? Is she going to die? I can’t lose my only friend. I haven’t connected with anyone but Nola since I came to Eden, and now, for the first time, I have someone I can talk to.

  I swallow hard and rub my eyes.

  Please, God, if you exist, don’t take my friend from me.

  Maybe I’m overexaggerating. Maybe she has the flu or something. But even then… Even the flu could be fatal here. Anything could be fatal in Eden. That’s the part, at least I think, Eve tries to hide from us. She doesn’t like to talk about the Medical Unit much. It takes away from the idea of this perfect, paradise-like place.

  But Dr. Lewis knows better. She knows that we’re living in a world without advanced medical care and that even a cut, if left untreated, can kill someone. She seems like a good doctor, though. I think she knows what she’s doing. Ever since she came to Eden, people have been much healthier. She’s taken all kinds of precautions, like setting up antibacterial liquid throughout the corridors and reminding people to wash their hands as often as possible. That was before we ran out of the stuff. And now, she even works with Mavis and Perula to try to create some healthy beverages to boost our immune systems.

  I honestly don’t know what we’d do without her. Right now, I’m placing all my trust in her, because the last time I saw Emily, she didn’t look good. And by the way Nola is looking at me right now, I’m assuming Emily’s doing even worse than before. Nola would know—she’s always in and out of the Medical Unit, helping as much as she can.

  I always forget she’s a nurse.

  She doesn’t wear nurse clothing—scrubs, or whatever you call them. She’s usually in a fluffy dress, or, when she doesn’t feel like getting done up, she wears Eden’s basic hemp clothes. I’ve noticed more and more kids are wearing hemp clothing. I guess it has to do with growing out of their old clothes—the ones they brought with them.

  The only reason I still manage to wear my old pants is that they’re stretchy and I lost a bunch of weight after my mom died. But they’ve become capris more than pants. I realize I probably look like an idiot in them, but I don’t want to wear what everyone else is wearing. Sometimes I wear the pants Eve got for me, but ever since she stopped talking to me, the thought of wearing them makes me resentful.

  “Lucy, are you even listening to me?” Nola says.

  With her hands on her waist, she really does look like my mom.

  “Nola,” I say, and she’s taken aback by the sound of her own name. Her eyes widen a bit, and she drops her arms by her sides. “How’d you know my mom?”

  I don’t know where this is coming from, but I need to ask. I’ve kept my mouth shut for five years, and every time she’s ever talked about how she used to be friends with my mom, I didn’t say anything. I’ve doubted her all this time, thinking she was only saying that to make me feel better.

  But I need to know. I need to know if Nola’s been honest with me because I don’t know who to trust in this place. And maybe this has something to do with being sixteen. I don’t feel like a kid anymore, and I don’t deserve to be treated like one, either. In trying to protect me, if there’s something she hasn’t told me, she can tell me now.

  Her honey-brown eyes stare into mine, and she scratches under her nose with her index finger. “Where’s this coming from?”

  I shrug. “You always compare me to Mom. Sometimes I do something, and you’ll say that Mom used to do the same thing. So, how’d you know her? I never asked you.”

  We’re standing in the middle of Division Five’s corridor. She jerks her head toward my room and leads me inside. Sitting down on my bed, she pats the spot beside her. As soon as I sit, she rests a hand on my thigh and breathes out through her nose.

  “Lucy, it isn’t my place to talk about it.”

  “Talk about what?”

  I can tell she’s having a hard time with this. What’s she keeping from me?

  “All you have to know is that I knew your mom before you were born. We met under strange circumstances.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not enough, Nola. I want the truth. I don’t care what it is. Just be honest with me. Please. I feel like everyone’s lying to me all the time. I want the truth.”

  She tilts her head back and breathes toward the ceiling. “I knew your mom before she had you.”

  I don’t say anything, so she looks down at me and continues. “She was pregnant with you, actually.”

  She bites down on her bottom lip and looks away.

  “Nola, it’s okay,” I say. “I can handle it.”

  I say I can handle it, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid of what she’s going to tell me. It’s obvious that it’s something big, and she doesn’t know whether my mom would want me knowing or not. But I need to know. I’m so tired of lies.

  “I used to work in an underground abortion clinic. Abortion wasn’t technically illegal, but at that point, it was frowned upon. People were ri
oting in the streets, throwing rocks at pregnant women who went into actual clinics.” She squeezes my thigh. “Anyways, your mom walked in one evening, looking completely frantic. Her hair was all over the place, and she kept saying that he wouldn’t leave her alone. I still don’t know who she was talking about. She never gave me his name. But she was obviously trying to get away from him. She kept saying he’d done this to her and that she didn’t want—” She pauses and breaks eye contact. “That she didn’t want to keep something he’d caused.”

  I swallow hard. Is she saying what I think she’s saying? I’m sick to my stomach.

  “I told her I’d seen many women in her position before, and that abortion wouldn’t do any good. That she’d end up regretting it down the road… We sat there for hours, and she cried in my arms. It was the strangest thing. It was as though I knew her, you know? Really knew her.” She looks at me again, her eyes narrowing in a meaningful way. “Sometimes, you just click with someone, you know?”

  I nod. I do know. I’ve recently felt that way with Emily.

  “I gave her my card that night, and she went home without booking an appointment. We stayed in touch after that. Up until you started walking and talking, that is. I think I reminded her of the mistake she almost made because I tried reaching out again a few times, and she never reached back.”

  I nod slowly and stare at the cement floor, which is covered in chips and scratches. Right now, I feel like if I were to slide off my bed, I’d be small enough to sink into one of them and hide from the world. I want to throw up. The thought of my mom being raped makes me want to crawl into a hole and die. I just can’t…

  “Honey, I’m so sorry,” Nola says.

  I shake my head. I don’t want sympathy. “No, Nola. It’s okay.” I look at her, and I can tell she’s about to cry. “Thank you for being so honest with me.”

  Her lower lip trembles and she wraps an arm around my shoulders. I want to hug her back, but I’m as stiff as a piece of wood. All I can think about is Jason. That’s who it was, wasn’t it? The man she kept saying was following us? It all makes sense now. Why else would someone harass our family like that? He knew I was his.

  I’m so disgusted with myself. I can’t believe that I come from someone like that.

  “Sweetheart,” Nola says, “are you okay?”

  My eyes are wide and I probably have a blank look on my face as I try to take it all in. When I pull away from her, something else dawns on me.

  “How’d you know who I was? I mean, you said you didn’t keep in touch. So, how’d you know I was her daughter?”

  She offers the sweetest smile possible, tiny wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes, then brushes my cheek with the back of her hand. “She’s all I see in you.”

  I’m on the verge of tears and numb at the same time. I’m probably in shock, confused by everything I’ve learned.

  “I also knew your name,” she says, winking.

  She then wraps her fingers around my neck, pulls me in again, and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, appreciating her soft lips and warm breath against my skin.

  “Do you need some time?” she asks. “You know, to take this all in?”

  I’m about to say yes, but I remember why I stopped her down Division Five’s corridor in the first place.

  Emily.

  “I want to see my friend,” I say.

  She must feel guilty about what she shared with me and doesn’t even try to argue. She pats my thigh and stands. “All right, follow me.”

  She wraps her fingers around my cell’s iron bars and walks out, but then, without warning, stops halfway and I bump into her.

  “Nola—”

  She turns around, her figure hunched and her narrowed eyes resembling sliced almonds.

  I step back. “What?”

  “I need to ask you something.”

  Why is she whispering? What’s going on?

  “Do you have a history with Eve?” Her eyes dart from side to side, and she hunches forward so much now that she looks like she’s crippled. “I mean, did you know her before you came to Eden? I saw her holding your hand, but I assumed she was only looking out for you.”

  Now I’m the one whose secret is on the line. “Why’re you asking me this?”

  She shakes her head like she’s trying to dismiss my paranoia. “It would explain a lot,” she says. “Eve’s been asking about you… A lot. And she wants to meet with me later. I’m assuming it’s to find out what you’ve been up to. And now I’m thinking, why does she care so much? I don’t mean this offensively, sweetheart, but there are a lot of kids in Eden, so why’s she so interested in you?”

  * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

  “I know it’s been tough, kid, but you need to hang in there, okay?” Aunty Eve says, looking at me like I’m the most interesting thing left in this world.

  She leans the upper half of her body forward and holds her weight up with her hands on her knees. I’ve grown a few inches over the last year, and she doesn’t have to go down very low. I’m guessing in a few years, I’ll be as tall as her, if not taller.

  Mom was taller.

  She throws a suitcase in the middle of the room and starts rummaging through it. It’s a big blue traveling suitcase, the kind people take with them when they go on trips, and it’s full of white fabric and something that looks like red leather boots or shoes. She grabbed all of this at that wrecked store in Aticok. A lot of women filled up suitcases. The store’s door was busted open and all of the windows were broken. It looked like a ghost town.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  She pulls out a white jacket or overcoat. It looks like a fancy top that you see successful businesswomen wearing. “Need to dress the part.”

  Then, she pulls out a few pairs of jeans, some T-shirts, and sneakers.

  “Got these for you,” she says, handing me a pair of jeans. “They’re a bit big, but that’s the point. You should grow into them over the next few years.”

  Over the next few years? How long are we going to be here? I can’t even think about that. I still don’t understand how all of this is happening. I stare at the pants. I’m happy they’re not white. I don’t know why anyone would wear white around here. Even walking through those cities made my sneakers all yucky.

  She pulls out scissors, face cloths, hairbrushes, makeup, a bunch of toothbrushes and toothpaste (like, dozens of them), a box of Band-Aids, something that looks like a small knife, packets of flower or fruit seeds, and a bunch of other stuff. I wonder if all the other women grabbed as much stuff as this. I saw some of them filling up suitcases as fast as they could.

  And why would Aunty Eve grab makeup?

  She’s been so strange lately. Who thinks of wearing makeup when the world is coming to an end? It’s like I don’t even know who she is anymore.

  “Oh, look at these,” she says. She pulls out a pair of red leather heels, red leather boots, and then a pair of red stilettos, and hugs them with a big smile on her face.

  I’ve never been angry with Aunty Eve before, but right now, I want to hit her on the head. My mom just died and she’s excited about shoes?

  She puts everything back in the suitcase and closes it, then lets out a long, relieved sigh. “I think we’ll make this work just fine.”

  “Make what work?” I say.

  My legs are killing me and my back is sore after all of that walking. I’m happy we’re finally inside of Eden. All I want is to go to sleep. Why’d she make me follow her in here? In this weird-looking room? There’s dust everywhere, and the old carpet is making my allergies act up. I rub my itchy nose and blink a few times. My eyes are probably all red. I want to scratch at them, but my mom always taught me not to touch my face, especially my eyes. I could get sick.

  “This place,” she says, and her smile gets even bigger. It’s kind of creepy. She stands up and paces back and forth in the room. “I mean, it could use a bit of handiwork. I know they didn’t renovate the entire prison a
fter the fire, but—” She walks over to the window. There are big metal bars over it, and I’m assuming that was to make sure no one was able to run away, you know, when prisoners lived here. She grabs the bars and presses her face in between them, looking outside. I don’t know what she’s looking at—it’s all dark and gray out there. The sun’s setting. We’re lucky we made it here before sunset. There’s nothing worse than walking around open fields, through forests, and especially through abandoned towns when all the lights are out. It’s scary, but it’s also dangerous. You don’t know who’s nearby, or how dangerous they are. Aunty Eve kept telling all of us to keep our eyes open because people become aggressive when they’re scared or hungry.

  She turns around and her messy ponytail dances at the back of her head. “Don’t you?”

  What’s she talking about? Don’t I what? I think she realizes I’m confused and flicks her wrist in the air like my opinion doesn’t matter anyway.

  “This place has real potential,” she continues. Why’s she talking so much? It’s almost like she’s talking to herself and not me. “We’ll plant gardens, flowers, trees… Ah! It’ll be beautiful.”

  She goes back to her suitcase, unzips it, and pulls out her red boots. She then slips off her sneakers and slips them on. They’re shiny, like fake leather, and they go all the way up to her knees. Well, right under them. They have a small pointed heel that makes her look a lot taller than she is. They look kind of funny with her jeans, which are full of holes, dirt, and blood.

  I stare at the blood and want to throw up. What if that’s my mom’s blood? Was she with her when she died? Did Aunty Eve see it happen?

  “What do you think?” Aunty Eve asks. She twirls her ankle from side to side, the boot’s heel scratching the carpet and the leather shiny.

  “It’s nice,” I say.

  She forces a laugh. “Nice? These are four-hundred-dollar boots.”

  “You didn’t pay for them,” I say.

  I’m not trying to be a smart-aleck, but I’m getting annoyed with her right now. She’s acting like the only thing that matters is her and her clothes, while a lot of women out there are hurting. A lot of them are crying hard. They lost family members. Kids like me, who lost their parents are bawling. And Aunty Eve is asking me what I think about her new boots?