by Box Set
It didn’t matter. The general-woman let out a laugh-cry and broke into a real run when she saw him. She grabbed him first by the shoulders and then pulled him into a hug. She let go and held him at arm’s length, and I watched her scrub her fingers back and forth through the front of his hair. It was the color of coffee, and he seemed embarrassed by her show of affection. I bit my lip, frowning as I watched them.
“Gallatin. Oh, at last.” Her voice was still that same calm sound, but it trembled a bit as she spoke. Then she laughed again. “Are you well? Did you encounter any difficulties on your journey?”
I studied him, wondering who this guy was. I didn’t have to wait long for my answer.
“I am well, sister.” His voice matched hers in its calm, formal speech. “The trip was quiet.”
She turned, putting her arm across his shoulders and leading him away, toward the single cabins. “I’ve prepared a place for you to sleep. You’ll have your own room… But I’m afraid you must help with the animals. I’m at a complete loss.”
“I’d rather work than sit here doing nothing. Now that you’ve brought me here.”
He was her same height, but his coloring was completely different. Whereas Cato was extremely fair with pale blue eyes, he was all one color—tan, or perhaps it was more olive—and his straight-smooth hair was only a touch darker than his burnished skin.
As they walked, his eyes flickered around the yard, landing briefly on mine. My heart stopped, and I looked away. I’d never seen eyes that color before on a person—golden-brown, almost yellow. Of course, I’d never been outside south Mississippi, and this guy was clearly foreign.
Still, something wasn’t right about them. Like brass, their golden-amber seemed to shine, deep-set in his face. It was unsettling. Even more unsettling was an ugly, brownish-pink scar that cut down his left cheek, just outside his eye and down his temple. From the way it looked, it could only have followed a near-fatal injury.
He took no notice of me, and when I glanced up again, his attention was back on his sister. I watched him readjust his long bangs back over the scar, and when he did, I saw another one, a matching brownish-orange mark across the back of his hand.
Cato smiled and hugged him to her, and I was even more convinced the alien story was a total hoax. What I’d just witnessed, this reunion, her behavior toward him and his response, was as human as two people could get, and while this guy might look strange, nothing about his actions suggested he was from anywhere other than this planet. The only question was where on this planet.
Chapter 5
Jackson took to football like a duck to water, and Coach made him starting quarterback.
The girls were even pretty nice about letting me join the cheer squad—all except Star McLain. As cheer captain, Star acted like being on the varsity team was a privilege earned only through years of climbing the pepster ladder.
She’d also been after Jackson since he’d shown up in a jersey, so I figured she’d be happy if I were out of the way. I tried to ignore her. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of thinking she made me mad, but this entire turn of events had me on edge.
Slowly, as senior year progressed, everything started to change. I was becoming less and less confident about our dream and Jackson’s commitment to it. Regardless of my inner turmoil, D’Lo never missed an opportunity to hassle me after practice.
“How’d a little tomboy white girl like you get tagged with a prissy name like Prentiss?” Dee squinted at the sun reflecting off the silver bleachers. Sweat made my ponytail stick to my neck, and I’d have left already if Jackson weren’t still on the field.
“My mamma named me Prentiss.” I glanced up at his giant body hanging on the guardrail.
“You the craziest little white girl I ever seen. I’ll never forget the day you stuck your hand up that cow’s butt.”
“Can you just drop it?” I cut him off, wishing eyes really could throw daggers.
He chuckled and walked around the railing then flopped on the metal bench next to me. It shuddered under his 200-pound frame.
“Don’t know why you’d be ashamed of that,” he continued. “Ain’t a girl out here got the balls to pull off that kind of stunt. Not many guys either.”
“Some people don’t need any ammunition.” I watched Star slide her dark, wavy hair over her shoulder.
She was hanging around the cooler again, smiling with her perfectly glossed lips and blinking as she leaned her body closer to Jackson’s. I watched as Jackson took a drink and smiled back.
D’Lo followed my gaze down to the field. “Shoot, Pren, you worried about that?”
I glanced over at D’Lo and smiled, trying to play it off. “Course not.” My attempted laugh came out as sort-of a weird honk. “Just wish he’d come on. It’s hot.”
I kept watching as Star leaned forward like she lost her balance and giggled, sliding her hand down Jackson’s arm. He grinned and caught her then glanced up to where we sat. My throat was tight, but I smiled as if nothing was wrong.
“Star’s just some tricked out country girl. She’s got nothing on you,” D’Lo said.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
Star was the same height as Jackson, which was on the tall side for girls, and she had nice long legs she’d be happy to wrap around his waist—that much was obvious. As she leaned into his ear, my stomach clenched.
“She’s got something,” I said. “Probably cause she’s always had a mamma. She knows how girls are supposed to act.”
“Your mamma don’t teach you to act like that. It’s the opposite.”
Jackson finally backed away from his sultry pursuer and waved before turning in our direction. I looked down at my hands clasped so tightly my knuckles were white. I released them and tried to relax before he got to us. I glanced at D’Lo looking in my direction. I hadn’t hid my worry from him one bit.
“Just thinking about the game,” I laughed, rubbing my palms together. “It’d be great if we took the championship, don’t you think?”
“Mm-hm.” He was still watching me when Jackson walked up and grabbed my hand, pulling me to him.
“You ready?” He smiled, and I pulled in close to his side. If I was going to be with someone like him, I had to expect a little challenge every once in a while.
“Looked like Star had ants in her pants,” D’Lo called out to him. “Looked like you were thinking about helping her with ’em, Jax.”
“Shut up, Dee.” Jackson looked at me as he answered, evaluating my response to his friend’s comment. I looked away, and he frowned. “You’re not thinking anything wrong are you, Pip?”
“What?” I tried acting innocent, but the problem with being a guy’s girlfriend since seventh grade was he knew when I was lying.
“Come on. You know better than that.”
“I know!” I wanted to mean it, but secretly I wished I could banish Star from our realm of existence.
“You’re my only cheerleader.” He looped his arm around my neck and pulled my head to his lips, pressing them against my temple.
The warmth of his kiss eased the fist in my chest, and I inhaled his smell of cut grass mixed with sweat.
D’Lo shouted after us. “Don’t worry, P. If Jackson loses his mind and lets you go, he knows I’ll be picking that up. Fast.”
Dee’s arm pointed at us as he walked away, and I looked over Jackson’s shoulder, smiling my thanks. He might call me names half the time, but Jackson’s best friend knew how to have my back.
“Tell him not to hold his breath,” Jackson whispered in my ear as we left in the opposite direction.
“Tell him yourself.”
* * *
The morning alarm and the noise of the partition opening cut through the sounds of sleep, and I stared frustrated at the tiny metal rods and springs above me. They were a cross-hatch of support for the bunk above, and as I ran my eyes up and down and around the tracks they formed, I wondered why my brain had thrown that particular me
mory at me.
Star McLain was the last person I wanted to think about right now, and if there was anyone I hoped had been taken away, it was that wannabe home-wrecker. Maybe that was the reason I dreamed about that day. Dee had always helped me in the past, and now his support seemed to have vanished.
Everyone was pulling on coveralls and making moves to start the day or head to breakfast. I strained my eyes as I scanned the now-unified room. What had happened to Cleve? I hadn’t seen him since the afternoon he was pulled away to load crates.
Had they done something to him? Had he escaped without me? Panic tightened in my stomach at that thought. He was the only person on my side. Had he seen an opportunity and taken it? Did he leave me behind?
I tore the sheet back and stepped into my coveralls, fighting the tightness creeping across my back. I didn’t want to be alone in this. I pulled the heavy canvass over my white cotton tank top and blue boxers refusing to believe he’d ditch me, but what reason did he have to look out for me?
Walking in our line to breakfast, Flora’s arms clasped over her waist. She was so pale, her brown freckles stood out across her white nose and cheeks like cinnamon sprinkles on vanilla ice cream. I had to stay strong for her.
“You okay?” I whispered as we filed into the dining hall.
She looked over at me and nodded. “Just a little weak. The heat and working the rows and all.”
“Need me to do anything?” Dr. Green had taught me a few home remedies in our time together. I just didn’t want to embarrass her or make her feel awkward.
“There’s nothing we can do,” she said with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. Our lives are over.”
“Don’t say that.” I caught her before we sat and made her look at me. “They want us to give up. Can’t you tell?”
Flora shook her head. “What else is there to do?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.” I rubbed her arm. “I said I’d take care of us. You trust me, right?”
She nodded, and I saw Yolanda Roberts slowly making her way through the line to where we were.
“I’ve never been a field hand in my life.” Yolanda’s voice was low as she sat on my other side. “You seem to be doing all right, Prentiss Puckett.”
I nodded, glancing at her. Yolanda curled her fingers and examined her nails. What were formerly manicured with little diamond studs and other artwork were now chewed to the nub. Her formerly smoothed-straight African-American curls were braided in tight rows.
I decided to put our history of non-friendship behind me.
“What are you planning?” Yolanda asked. “I can tell you’ve got something going on. Why you keep talking to D’Lo?”
“I got nothing yet,” I said. “But I can’t stay here much longer. I’m going to figure a way out.”
We all sucked in our breath as one of the guards strolled past our table. Yolanda took a big bite of eggs. “Pass me some salt, Prentiss.”
I nodded and grabbed the shaker.
The guard continued on, and Yolanda took a bite of her steak. Same breakfast every morning. Steak and eggs. I turned back to Flora who was staring at me like I’d just removed my head and then put it back on.
“Find a way out?” she whispered, checking quickly over her shoulder. “And then what? Where would you go? What if they catch you? They’ll kill you, Prentiss! Haven’t you seen those guns?”
“I’ll find Jackson.” My voice was stern, determined. “He’ll know what to do.”
I hoped my words gave her as much hope as they gave me. Just the thought of Jackson taking charge calmed my racing heart, despite my discouraging dream last night.
“You’re crazy,” she breathed a laugh. “Jackson can’t do anything.”
“You don’t know that any more than I do. You’re already ready to give up. Just like that.”
Flora shrugged and looked away. “I won’t survive this.”
“Yes you will!” I hissed. “I know you’re tired, but you’re going to make it. We all are.”
“It’s this anemia.” She pressed her eyes closed. “It makes my head hurt, and I feel… so weak.”
“Shoot, Flora, that’s easy.” The guards weren’t watching us, and I slipped all of my meat onto her plate. “You sit by me from now on, and I’ll share my meat with you, okay? You just need more protein.”
She looked up at me. “Think that’ll work?”
“Doc Green said chicken livers help anemia.” I smiled, trying to encourage her. “I guess a little extra steak’ll do just as good.”
She put a piece of the extra meat in her mouth. “If I could just get out of the sun.”
“I’ll ask to go back on the rows if they don’t put me there. You know how to milk a cow, right?”
She shook her head No.
“Well, maybe they’ll do another demonstration. Or you could churn butter, although that might wear you out, too.” I bit my lip trying to think. “There’s gotta be chickens somewhere. You could collect the eggs and scatter their feed. I wonder if we can make requests.”
The loud tone sounded for us to go into the yard for our work assignments. I squeezed my friend’s forearm hoping she’d take the encouragement and hang in there. I wasn’t losing any of my people if I could help it.
* * *
I stepped back when Shubuta went through the line picking the dairy rotation. Flora was four inches taller than me and had very smooth, shoulder-length red hair that never flew out around her head like my stringy blonde locks, but the guard didn’t seem to remember the difference.
“You were in the barn yesterday?” Before Flora could disagree, Shubuta nodded and said, “Good. Return there today.”
Flora’s big brown eyes shot to me, and I smiled and nodded my satisfaction with her assignment. I watched as she, Yolanda, and Yolanda’s braiding friend Roxie went with Cato and Oma into the barn.
As they approached the large, dark entrance, I caught sight of the new guy there as well. He stood with his arm around the top of a cow pen surveying them. Once they were there, he turned and followed them inside.
A basket, hat, and trowel were put in my hands, jerking me back to attention, and we turned and walked out into the blazing hot field to start another day digging spuds.
By lunchtime, my hair was slick with sweat. I’d unzipped my coveralls and tied the long sleeves in a knot around my waist, and my white tank top was again streaked with dirt. I didn’t care. I was worried about my friend, so I quickly ran to the barn to deposit my basket of small red potatoes.
Flora sat on the bench near the churn, a silver pail at her feet. She didn’t look as pale as she had earlier in the day, but her fatigue seemed stronger than ever.
“Easier day?” I asked, lifting her pail of milk and carrying it to the wooden churn. She shrugged and turned to the side, leaning her head against the back of the bench. Her eyes blinked slowly closed.
“Take a nap after lunch,” I said. “And remember what I told you about sitting by me.”
She nodded, and I heard voices speaking low at the back of the barn. I looked up and saw Cato with her brother.
“Why were you there if you didn’t learn about this?” Her lips were drawn tight, and I could tell she was working hard to control the volume of her voice. “That was your whole argument for going away. To be prepared if—”
“It was only in my first year. Practicals didn’t start until second semester!”
She looked up and caught me staring, so I quickly bent down and took Flora’s hand. “Come on, let’s get some lunch.”
* * *
My heart leaped as I approached the dining hall. Cleve was behind my brother, walking slowly in the mob that funneled into a line. Dropping Flora’s hand, I moved as casually as possible, pushing my way through the bodies to where Braxton and my brother waited. Cleve didn’t see me at first, but my brother did.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” His voice was flat.
“No I haven’t.” I didn�
��t meet his eyes as I lied. “I’ve just been tired. Working in the hot sun all morning pulling potatoes. What they got you guys doing?”
He looked at his feet, and I studied his face as silent moments passed. Braxton had dark hair and eyes, and if you didn’t know we had the same mamma, you’d never guess we were related.
Finally he spoke. “Yesterday we went down to the bottom and dug a big pit. A green pickup was there, and we unloaded the back of it. Put a bunch of long, wooden boxes in the hole then covered them up with dirt.”
My breathing grew shallower with every word, and the space seemed to move outward from me like I might faint.
“Long boxes? Like coffins?”
“Maybe.”
I thought of Cleve being pulled away to load them. I studied his stony face still not acknowledging my presence. “Was it… a mass grave?”
“Don’t know.” My brother turned away from me.
Behind us, our fellow prisoners pushed us on. I tried to breathe normally, to ask questions. Cleve’s hazel eyes met mine, but they were hard, like something had changed in him.
My voice cracked as I spoke to my brother. “Do you think they were casualties?”
Braxton shrugged. “Could be casualties. If there were any signs of a war going on.”
“Any signs? What do you call all this? What’s happening to us here?
“Don’t know. But I haven’t heard a single shot fired or a single bomb exploding.” He looked at me, and his eyes widened. “It’s something else. Something that can’t be explained.”
My face pinched. “Like what exactly?”
“How do you think they can hold us without the police or the National Guard coming? They’ve got powers, that’s how.”