The apple tree is full, of course, so I pluck one of its fruits on my way to check on James. Will he be there today? I wonder as I try to focus on something positive. At first I don’t see anyone except for Sue, his horse, but then I see movement inside the window of the closest building—the very building James lives in. A man’s leather-booted foot crosses the door’s threshold, followed by another. Hope sparks inside me, but then the man fully emerges from the building. It’s not James.
And the two people that come next are not James either. In fact, they aren’t even men. They are two beautiful girls with long brown hair, hourglass figures, and blue cotton dresses. They cling to one another as they faithfully follow their leader. They must be sisters.
The man that appeared before them puts on a brave face. He is a sturdy man with ebony skin. He’s dressed in cowboy attire like James wears. He guards the women behind him as they duck into the next building. I can see flickers of them as they pass the windows and search the various rooms of the wooden shack. They must not have found anything of interest because they reappear within seconds.
James must have gotten a mate as well. A tinge of jealousy passes through me.
I watch the man and two women explore their dusty enclosure to pass the long morning. They don’t do anything interesting, but the public seems to enjoy watching them as much as I do. They crowd around the glass and whisper to one another. Some of them point and others stand on their tiptoes to get a better look. I decide the only good thing about the newcomers is that they will draw attention away from our enclosure, at least until the newness wears off.
One of the women, the smaller of the two, cries on her sister’s shoulder midday. I feel sad for her. This is a horrible fate. The sturdy man shoos them into one of the buildings so they don’t get in trouble. The crowds disperse when they no longer have anything to look at in that enclosure. I no longer have anything to watch either, so my gaze drifts to the public and all their amazing clothing choices.
There is a woman dressed like Marilyn Monroe, with blonde hair and a white halter dress. Beside her, her friend is dressed like Madonna; Madonna from the 80’s with pointy cone-boobs and too much jewelry (I’ve seen photos). There is a large group of children who are all dressed in what I would call “regular” school uniforms. They are wearing plaid shorts and skirts with white polo shirts. I wonder if they are mimicking styles from my era or if this is normal attire for them today.
I’m so engrossed in the public’s fashion choices that I almost miss him today. He’s sitting on the same bench he was standing on during the protest. He’s hidden behind the group of school children, and I only see flashes of him as the children move about.
Once the school children eventually move on, I have a full view of the tanned man. He’s dressed in a grass skirt like the first day I saw him, and he’s wearing a braided crown around his head made of some type of long, green grasses. He looks exactly the same as the first day with only one difference.
KALE
The man on the bench isn’t staring at me today. When I follow his gaze behind me, I discover that he is staring at Kale, and Kale is staring back.
I march over to Kale, stopping just short of him. I didn’t realize when he was lying on the ground last night how fit he is. His body is muscular, but he isn’t bulky even though he stands under six-feet tall. He has a strong jaw, almond shaped eyes, and a wide, but not too wide nose. And he smells like our waterfall, mixed with the scent of beach air and sand. I take a step back.
“Who is that?” I demand, drawing myself back into the present.
Kale looks down at me. “How should I know?” he answers.
“Well, you look like you know him. Why are you staring at him?”
“I could ask you the same question,” he fires back.
I turn and look back out to the public walkway. He is still there watching us. Smiling.
Smiling?!
“Look at all these people. Maybe he’s just some freak that wants to be like me,” Kale jokes. Then he admits, “He does looks familiar though. I’m just not sure why.”
I don’t tell him I have a similar feeling about the stranger. I press him further, “Familiar how?”
Kale shrugs his shoulders, and then marches toward the glass wall. He curls his strong hand into a fist and raises it above his head.
“I wouldn’t do that,” I warn him. “You’re going to get in trouble.”
Boom. Boom. Boom. He brings his fist down hard against the glass three times. “Who are you? Can you get us out of here?” Kale yells at the man on the bench. “You can hear me, can’t you? Help us!”
The man taps his wristwatch and walks away just as the Keepers come to remove Kale from our enclosure for disturbing the public. Struggling against the Keepers is useless, and he finds this out quickly after they inject him with something that paralyzes his body but keeps him conscious. That’s new.
It takes both men to drag Kale toward the rock wall where they will vanish, delivering Kale to Dick for a scolding. I follow them toward the back of the enclosure, hoping to get a chance at escape. I need to make use of every opportunity available.
I’m not worried about him, because I know he’s not getting any real kind of punishment. But I use it as an excuse to stay next to them. I reprimand to Kale for his actions, “I tried to warn you. You can’t interact with the public. They warned you about that, right?” Then I give him a thumbs up to let him know it’ll be okay.
Walking as close as possible to the Keepers and their disobedient animal, I try to slip through the portal with them. I don’t make it through. I smack right into the rock wall, my knee hitting first and then my stomach. “Shit!” I screech.
Stupid magical portals. Well, I guess I better quit standing around and let the others know about Kale so they don’t wonder where he is later. Actually, they’re probably too busy making out to notice. No, I should still tell them. I smooth out my itchy dress and tuck my hair behind my ears. Smacking into the wall ruffled my appearance a little.
It takes no time at all to find Janice and Greg hanging out by the waterfall. She is showing her companion how to fill up an animal skin with drinking water. As I watch them, I’m making a note to myself that we’ll all have to arrange some kind of shower schedule. The last thing I want is for one of these guys to see me naked.
They don’t hear me approach and interrupting them is easy since I’m still angry. “Hey. The Keepers just took Kale.”
Janice is aghast. “Oh no. What did he do?”
“He was banging on the glass like an idiot. I told him not to.” I shrug, showing them that it was his fault and his alone.
“What happens the first time you get in trouble?” Greg asks.
“Nothing. It’s a joke,” I answer.
“And what happens the second time?”
It’s Janice that answers, because I don’t have one. “We don’t know. The first warning was enough to keep us from finding out. It doesn’t sound good though.”
Kale is returned to our enclosure three hours later.
WELCOME BACK TO PRISON
I’m sitting on the rock wall, listening to Auntie Josephine perform for the crowds and keeping an eye on James’ enclosure, when Kale approaches. He sits next to me, leaving only a few inches between us. I hold my ground even though my natural reaction is to scoot away from him. He still smells good, like summer.
“You been for your first warning yet?” he asks me. His accent is different than my southern one, still American though. If I had to describe it, I’d say he doesn’t really have an accent. His manner of speaking is relaxed, as is his body language. He oozes coolness but not arrogance.
“Yeah,” I answer. “Haven’t worked myself up for the second one yet. I’m sure it’ll happen eventually though. Gotta get outta here, ya know?”
He nods. “Yeah.”
There is a quiet between us, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. I dislike him for who he is not and what he is
supposed to mean for my future. But I manage to put that aside for just a few minutes as we sit here being two miserable souls. We are alone in our thoughts, but together in our circumstances.
Kale breaks the silence first by saying, “Hey, that guy’s a total dick, right?”
I snort and quickly cover my mouth and nose with my hands, embarrassed. I can’t believe he used the same word to describe him as I did. “Dick is exactly the right word,” I agree with him.
“Where are you from?” he asks me, trying to keep up the conversation.
“Baton Rouge, Louisiana. You?”
A smile plays across his full lips as he thinks about it. “Hawaii. The Big Island. Man, I miss it already. The surfing is amazing.” He rubs the right side of his shaved head and adds, “That’s how they got me. Cracked my head open on some rocks. I guess I drowned.”
“Huh. I applied to the University of Hawaii. So much for that.” I say more to myself than to Kale. Missing out on college and moving away were huge changes that I’d never get to experience. Just as well, I’m way too pale to live somewhere that tropical. I get burned after ten minutes in the sun.
Straightening up and shifting a little on our hard seat, I decide to tell him about my car accident. When I finish, I catch myself wondering if he’s from a similar era. “Wait. What time are you from? I mean, when were you taken?” I ask, because he may not even know what a car is. No, that’s not right. Kale surfs. I try to think if I know about how long ago they invented surfboards. I don’t know the answer to that, but I do realize that he speaks like he has to be from around my time. I would’ve acknowledged that something was off—in the way he talks—if it was different than the way I talk.
He answers, “2013. You?”
“Yeah, me too . . . 2013. I was born in 1995. When were you born?”
“1993. Why are you asking, aren’t we all from the same time?” he asks while looking into my eyes, obviously confused and searching for answers.
“No. Janice was taken in 1978, and I heard Greg tell her he was taken in 1955. Auntie Josephine next door was taken like in the mid 1800’s from England, and James across the way was taken in 1876 from Colorado.” I leave out the cavemen next door, because I’ve been too scared to look back over the rock wall at their enclosure, so I don’t really know anything about them.
“Hmm. Well, I thought at least the people that share a space would be from the same time. It just makes more sense.” He runs his hand along his jaw and stares up at the sky beyond the glass dome. “So when they take us, what do you think they leave behind for our families? Some kind of artificial body?”
That was definitely a good question and one that I had asked Dick. “That’s exactly what they do. They grow them and then replace us with them. Freaky, right?”
“Well, if they can time travel, they can probably do a lot of other things we’d never imagine could be possible. So, that doesn’t surprise me,” he answers resolutely.
The thought still makes me uneasy and so does the fact that I’m actually enjoying talking with Kale.
REMINISCING IS DANGEROUS
The crowds are thin today so there’s not much in the way of entertainment. Janice and Greg are in the vegetable garden chatting, and Kale is sitting on a boulder looking into the cavemen’s enclosure. He keeps laughing so they must be doing something amusing. Perhaps they’re still trying to start that fire Janice was telling me about.
I’m lying on the hard ground, staring at the cloudless sky, wishing I could breathe the fresh air that blows the manicured trees from side-to-side. Auntie Josephine’s choice of song has a calming tone and puts me into a state of repose. It’s probably a lullaby, one I’ve never heard. My mind drifts and shuffles through memories of my past life. One of my favorite memories is when I was eight years old. It’s one of those magical movie moments that make it into the montage.
My parents and I were on vacation in Florida somewhere. I was so happy that day. We’d had pancakes for breakfast at the local diner—my favorite. Later on in the day, I was promised a trip to the aquarium. Before our trip out, we took a stroll on the beach. I splashed in the tiny waves and picked up shells along the way. The sand was powdery and warm, and it squished between my toes as I walked through it. At one point, I stopped and laid down in it, like I’m lying now, looking up at the cloudless sky.
My mother and father came to lie next to me, one on each side. I giggled as we made “snow” angels in the sand. We brushed our arms and legs back and forth over the fine grains. When we finished, I kneeled in the middle of my angel and drew feathers in the wings and a halo above her head.
My mother stood before them and said, while pointing at each angel, “Look, the angels of Love, Hope, and Faith.” Mine was the angel of Hope. She fingered in the names below each angel and then pulled out her camera from her pink beach bag. “I have to take a picture,” she said excitedly.
That picture is still hanging over the fireplace. Well, probably not now since that was over 200 years ago.
My parents are dead, I realize. A tear slides from the corner of my eye, down my face, and eventually pools in my ear. I squeeze my eyes shut tight, fighting more of them off. It doesn’t help. I roll onto my side, curling into a ball as I mourn the deaths of my parents, my family, my friends, and everything that was that is no longer.
I don’t care that Janice, Greg, or Kale can see me. I don’t care that the public can see me, even though I could get into trouble for allowing them to see my strained emotions in their ridiculous amusement park. I am lost in my own dark world and they don’t exist here.
A shadow falls over me, darkening the inside of my eyelids even more. I refuse to open my eyes to find out what it is. I want to keep crying.
The shadow stays for as long as I am awake. Eventually, I fall asleep from exhaustion.
YUCK!
It doesn’t take long for Janice and Greg to consummate their new relationship. Since the second he arrived, they haven’t left each other’s side. And when they decide to become intimate with each other, it just so happens to be right next door to me. I’m happy for her, but this is too much.
It started off with Janice’s girlie giggles. Then, there was some heavy breathing, and now I’m lying here listening to muffled moans. Gross! I can’t listen to this any longer. This dirt floor is just as good as any other, right?
I grab my scratchy, cotton blanket and quietly crawl out of my tiny hut, where I immediately stumble over Kale’s sleeping body. I fall on top of him, which startles him awake. My face lands on the ground inches from his face, and my body is awkwardly sprawled across his. He stares at me and smiles. “Hi,” he says.
I scramble off of him as quickly as possible and trip again on one of his legs. My butt hits the ground hard. “Kale! What are you doing right outside my hut?” I kick at his stupid leg.
I dislike him again for not being James, and I am reminded about my theory that he’s trying to charm me so he won’t be sent away. He knows what’s at stake. So what is that cocky smile really about? Our moment of shared torture yesterday is over now.
“Sorry. Your huts are hidden and next to the fire. I didn’t want to sleep out in the open next to the glass. I’ve been sleeping here since I got here. You never said anything before,” he answers honestly.
He stands and offers his hand to me. I swat it away. “I didn’t know you were sleeping here,” I huff. He was so close to me all this time. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “Doesn’t matter. You know what? You can have it. My hut. I can’t sleep here with that going on.” I point to Janice’s hut while pushing myself up off the ground.
“I can’t take it, it’s yours,” he says.
“Not anymore. Really, take it.” I snatch my blanket off the ground and push my way through the thick ferns, searching for a new place to call home. I decide against the waterfall area before I set off, because I figure if I had to listen to it all night, I’d probably have to get up and pee every two seconds. So, off I g
o in the middle of the night, toward the front of the enclosure.
I burst out of the jungle into the open space and realize that I don’t really want to sleep next to the glass either. I also don’t want to sleep next to the latrines or the cow. Where am I going to go?
I finally settle for curling up at the base of the apple tree. It’s the only place that will block me from a direct line of sight to the public, though not well. The ground here is knotty from the roots. There’s a shallow dip between two of them, and I seem to fit comfortably in the hollow.
As I lie there, I can hear laughter—joyful laughter of men and women. It’s coming from somewhere beyond our enclosure. I hadn’t heard it when I was in my hut. Odd. I peek around the trunk of the tree and look into the night for its source. Through the window of James’ home, I see four shadowed people sitting around a table, their images flicker by candlelight.
Four people. Not three.
JAMES HAS RETURNED!
He’s finally back! It feels like it’s been an eternity. I can’t imagine what could have kept him away for so long. I’m excited and jealous at the same time. I’m envious of the girls that he will now be sharing his enclosure with. I don’t want him laughing with them or getting to know them in a way he can’t get to know me. It’s ridiculous to be jealous over someone I’ve never met, but I’ve enjoyed our conversations. I don’t want it to end.
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