“Yeah. In Manhattan you get arrested for ogling breasts and here you get arrested if you don’t.”
“Wait. Men here are arrested if they don’t—”
“I was kidding,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Only a few of us very special guys get in trouble for not wanting to jump a girl’s bones.”
I’m amazed. The Unbound do very strange things. “Jump bones?”
He grins. “You’re cheering me up without even trying. ‘Jump her bones.’ It means have sex with someone.”
I shrug. “I don’t know much about sex. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He looks away. “And I owe you an apology. I used you. I was dumb. I should have known it would backfire if you didn’t know what was happening.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you were—don’t take this the wrong way—but I thought you were pretty backward. I didn’t think you could possibly understand.”
“You thought I was an ignorant woolie,” I say.
“For all I knew you would want to cut off my head.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m not going to pretend that I completely understand what you are . . .”
He cringes.
“I mean, who you are,” I say, feeling like the moron he supposed me to be. “But I know that the world isn’t what I was raised to believe—one type of person, one type of right and wrong.” Thinking of the Laurel Society and Nana, I add, “I think people live many different ways, and the most important thing is that they feel loved and safe.”
Silas puts his hand over mine. “Thank you, woolie. That was nice.”
“So . . .” I’m not sure how to phrase the question, but this could be my only chance to ask. “How does, you know, sex work for you?”
He laughs. “Well, I’ve never actually had it. But the way it works . . . I think I’ve rocked your world enough for one day, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Maybe.” It’s nice to see him smile. “Now what?”
He becomes serious again. “I don’t know. Solomon told me there would be no third chance.” He inhales deeply. “Maybe they just won’t let me out again.”
“Can they do that? Would your family let them?”
“My family thinks that I’m a horrible degenerate and that only God can fix me.”
I find this hard to believe about Bithia and Gilad. “Do your parents know what goes on in here?”
“Yep. Solomon gives them an update every week.”
“And they trust him?”
“Oh yes. They believe he channels God’s wisdom.”
Silas can’t be stuck in here forever just because his parents have put their faith in some sicko. “What about Ram? Isn’t he more powerful than Solomon?”
He huffs. “Who do you think proclaims the law? I know Ram has taken you under his wing and everything, but don’t let him fool you. He lets other people do his dirty work so he can smile and play nice. I mean, I haven’t seen him here shouting for Solomon to release you.”
He’s right. Ram likes to tell me how “special” I am. And yet here I sit.
“Underneath it all, Ram is as cruel as Solomon, maybe more so,” says Silas. “I think I always knew I would end up back here. It was inevitable.” His head sags.
I guess I understand why Silas still wears green and hasn’t moved up to Level Yellow. He doesn’t live the Unbound “ideal life.”
I remember I have another question. “When you fell from my window, it kind of seemed like, um––did you do it on purpose?”
Looking ashamed, he says, “I wanted my parents to catch us, to think something was going on between us.”
“You could’ve killed yourself!”
“Yeah—the whole broken wrist thing wasn’t part of the plan.” He chews the nail of his thumb. “But it did work. Did you see how happy my dad was the next day? That’s the nicest he’s been to me in years.”
“Oh, Silas. I’m sorry I gave you away.”
He sighs. “You didn’t mean to, and Solomon is hard to lie to. I know that.”
“Susanna is going to be so disappointed,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow.
“She’s crazy about you!” I say. “I thought you knew.”
He smiles, mischief in his eyes. “Susanna is my closest friend. She helped spread the rumor about you and me.”
“What?” I’m dumbfounded. “She seemed so jealous.”
“She’s a brilliant actress and a very good person. She’ll be upset it didn’t work.”
I decide I’m a fan of Susanna’s. “Does anyone else know?”
“Tabby, of course. She finds it really humiliating and ignores it as much as she can.”
“That’s why you thought she’d know where the Forgiveness Home was!”
“Yeah. She and my parents visited me a few times when I was five. It’s allowed when you’re little. I don’t know if she genuinely doesn’t remember coming here or if she just wants to pretend it never happened.”
“That stinks. It’s hard when your sibling isn’t on your side.”
“Yeah, your brother seems . . . interesting.”
“He’s certainly not someone you would trust with a secret.”
He laughs. “You made Promise Prom memorable, that’s for sure.”
I cover my face. “I feel awful.”
“Tabby and I talked about triggering an Ascension frenzy for years. It was pretty amazing to see it actually happen. That took serious guts.”
“Uh . . . Thanks?” I’m still not completely sure what I did. “I feel really bad. I made people cry.”
“I think it’s perfect punishment for requiring lady bugs, don’t you?” Laughing again, he adds, “I heard Paul Franklin stayed there all night, sure your vision was real. His wife had to come get him in the morning.”
“You’re terrible!” I say, but I can’t help laughing, too.
“Did you see Marjory? She went full prostrate in the grass. It was amazing. When she stood up, her white dress was all green.”
Soon we’re both doubled over with laughter, and I can barely breathe. I picture Marjory on the bus home streaked with green, blades of grass in her hair. I’m laughing so hard I feel deranged, but I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.
When I finally can’t laugh anymore, I let out a big sigh, drained. “I have to tell Juda that his mother is ill.”
Silas stops smiling. “Is it serious?”
“Yes.”
“Why haven’t you told him yet?”
“I haven’t had the chance.”
“That’s totally feeble, and you know it. You could be telling him right now instead of sitting here with me.”
He’s right. I left Juda standing in the hallway, and I could have told him then or before session when we were alone.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“Maybe it’s better. You’ll just be torturing him. He’s locked in here and can’t get out. Better he doesn’t know.”
“No. If I don’t tell him, he’ll never forgive me.”
“So this is about you and not him?”
“No!” I use my shoe to draw a line in the gravel. “Would you want to know?”
“Hard to say,” he says, furrowing his brow. “My father wouldn’t want to see me either way. If it was my mom, then yeah, I’d want to know.”
“Even if you couldn’t see her?”
He nods.
I know he’s right. I just dread the task.
“Have you eaten breakfast?” he asks. “I’m starving.”
When I shake my head, he says, “Let’s go.” He rises. “And let me know if you need help talking to Juda.”
I raise an eyebrow. “So you’ve forgiven me?”
“Have you forgiven me?” he asks.
After I nod, his hazel eyes regain their sparkle. “Besides, your romance with Juda is the only interesting thing going on in here.”
Smiling, I let him help me up.
Twenty-Three
; Silas leads me to a big, loud room that smells like tomato sauce on top of bleach. Residents sit at long tables, eating and talking.
Connie and her friends sit giggling at one table, while Mary and Ruth talk quietly at another. On the other side of the room, Juda sits alone, his head down while he picks at his food.
I point him out to Silas. “I’ll tell him about his mother now,” I say with resignation.
“I need to come with you,” Silas says.
“Why?” I ask, annoyed.
“Boys and girls aren’t allowed to have one-on-one conversations. Kalyb thinks it leads to trouble.”
I snort. We have the same rule in Manhattan, yet the people of Kingsboro act as though they could never be the same as us.
“Let’s get our food first,” Silas says.
He leads me to the far end of the room where angry-looking women serve scrambled eggs that look like dry chips of paint. I’m too hungry to care. I take the eggs, plus potatoes and toast. I grab an apple from a sad looking bowl of fruit. If any of the serving women have an opinion about a fifteen-year-old wearing a bag of rocks, they don’t let it show.
We walk to Juda’s table and sit on either side of him. I have to be careful not to fall backward off the bench.
Startled, he looks up, smiling at me and glaring at Silas. Then, just as I’m raising a bite of eggs to my mouth, Juda leans over and kisses me on the lips. I’m too surprised to respond. He pulls away awkwardly, and I see him cast a look at Silas, who looks alarmed.
I see. The kiss was for Silas’ benefit and not mine. Juda was marking his property.
I resist the urge to chastise him, knowing I have something very serious to say.
“I’d be careful with that,” says Silas, looking around the room. “You don’t want to put a backpack on again do you?”
“I really missed you,” Juda tells me, ignoring Silas.
“I missed you, too,” I say, knowing we’ve already told each other this. Like Silas, I worry that other people saw our kiss, which still feels to me like a severe crime.
I take a bite of eggs. They’re depressingly bland. Dousing them with salt from the table, I begin to scarf them down.
“Take it easy,” says Juda. “You’ll hurt yourself.” When I keep eating he says, “How’s your back?” He reaches out his hand to touch me, but looking at the Sentry, pulls it back.
“It aches,” I say, mouth full.
“You have to get rid of the backpack soon,” he says, “or your back will ache even when it’s off.”
Silas nods in agreement.
Gee, thanks guys. It hadn’t occurred to me to try to get rid of it. I’m shocked to hear Tabby’s sneering voice in my head. “I’m trying,” I say.
“What did you tell Solomon yesterday? It obviously wasn’t enough,” says Juda.
Swallowing my food, I take a big breath. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” he asks, looking at Silas with suspicion.
“It’s about your mother,” I say.
His expression goes quickly from distrust to fear. “Is she okay? What’s wrong?”
“She’s sick,” I say. “She’s in the hospital.”
He looks nauseated. “Is it the plague?”
“Dr. Rachel––her doctor—doesn’t know yet. But it might be,” I say, hating every word that’s coming out of my mouth.
Juda puts his hands on the table, steadying himself.
“She hasn’t been eating. She thought the man she was staying with was trying to poison her . . .”
His eyes narrow into slits.
“ . . . but he wasn’t. Something else was making her ill. But she’s made herself much sicker by not eating.”
“Is she asking for me?” he asks, pain and guilt breaking his voice.
“The last time I saw her, she was sleeping,” I say. “Her doctor seems very smart.”
“Dr. Rachel is great,” Silas says. “The best we have.”
“I have to go to her,” Juda says.
“How will you get out of here?” I ask.
“I’ll confess to whatever Solomon needs me to confess to.”
“It’s not that simple,” says Silas, interrupting once more. “If he knows there’s something you really want, he won’t believe a word you say.”
“How will he know that I know about Ma?”
“He’ll know that either Mina or I could’ve told you.”
“I’m not going to just sit here while she dies—”
“Maybe if you’re honest,” I say. “Maybe if you just ask to see her—”
“Ha,” he says with bitterness. “I’m sure Solomon will drive me to the hospital himself.”
“He’s right,” says Silas. “Solomon won’t do anything unless he thinks it’ll benefit him.”
“Could it?” I ask Juda. “Is there anything you could tell him that he wants to know?”
“I’ve already told him everything I can . . .” he says.
“There’s always more,” says Silas.
“I need my gun,” Juda says.
“Keep your voice down,” I say, scanning the room. The Sentry in the corner doesn’t seem to have heard.
“I have to get out of here, and if they won’t let me go peacefully, then I’ll use other means.”
“You’ll be killed,” I say, imagining the sick pleasure Solomon would get if he could actually end one of our lives. “Even if you survive, what’s your plan? You shoot your way out of here, find the hospital on your own, and then just stroll inside, no problem?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just—I can’t stay here.”
“We’ll think of something,” I say, although the situation is wretched.
“I need to be alone,” Juda says, standing.
“Wait—” I plead.
“Maybe I can help,” Silas says in a whisper.
“I seriously doubt that,” says Juda, glowering at him.
“I may know a way out,” Silas says.
“I don’t know you. I don’t care about you. I don’t care what you have to say. Got it?”
Mortified, I say, “Juda! Stop being so rude! You—”
Silas shushes me. He says to Juda, “I think I know what the problem is here. You have an idea about what happened between Mina and me while you were locked up. But, um . . .” He laughs. “Nothing is going on between us. I assure you.”
Juda continues to look angry.
“You see, I’m—”
“You don’t owe him an explanation, Silas,” I say. “Our word is enough. Right, Juda?”
Sitting back down, Juda looks at each of us in turn. Silas gives him a sympathetic smile, while I try to contain my irritation.
Juda lets out a deep breath before saying, “Okay. I believe nothing happened between you.”
Silas offers him a hand, and Juda shakes it.
When Juda doesn’t notice my own extended hand, I clear my throat. I think the peacemaking should be more directed at me than Silas, no?
Taking my hand, Juda shakes it. “Sorry I was being rude.”
“You can make it up to me by listening to Silas,” I say.
Juda turns to Silas and says, “You know a way out of here?”
Silas runs his hand through his bangs. “If I tell you, you have to promise to take me with you.”
Juda raises an eyebrow. “Not likely.”
“And Mina,” Silas says. “We all go or none of us do.”
“No,” says Juda. “It’s too dangerous.”
“You’re not leaving me here!” I say, horrified.
“Your crime wasn’t that bad. They’ll let you out soon,” Juda says.
“That’s complete twaddle,” I say, amazed at his nerve. “I’m not wearing this backpack one more second than I have to. And you’re not responsible for my safety, Juda. I am.”
Juda crosses his arms. “This plan is probably crap anyway, so, yes, I promise to take you both with me.”
Silas smiles meekly.
Taking a quick look at the Sentry, he whispers, “The last time I was here, I, uh, I noticed that we got fresh fruit about every two weeks, so I started listening for the food deliveries. A drone arrives at two in the morning every other Thursday to make a drop into the kitchen. If you stay awake, you can hear panels open and close.”
“So if we could be in the kitchen when the delivery arrives—” Juda says.
“—the panels would open, and we could get out.” Silas’ smile spreads.
“That’s it? That’s your plan?” says Juda.
“What happens after that?” I ask. “We’re on the roof?”
“The building is more than two stories tall,” Juda says, annoyed.
“Yeah, it’s a problem,” admits Silas. “I needed StickFoot to pull the whole thing off, which is why I never tried it.”
“What the Hell is StickFoot?” Juda asks.
While Silas explains, I study the fatally bruised apple on my plate. From the looks of its syrupy, wrinkling skin, the Home hasn’t had a fruit delivery in a while. With unease, I say, “The next food delivery is this Thursday, isn’t it?”
Silas nods.
“That’s only two days,” Juda says. “What are the chances we can find StickFoot in the building?”
“It’s forbidden to residents,” Silas says. “They don’t want people literally climbing the walls, but I may know where we can get some.”
Juda looks at him with intense hope, but Silas’ answer has a tone of resignation: “Kalyb's office.”
“Why would he have it?” I ask.
“Basic repairs, cleaning out the gutters and stuff. Most men have some in their tool box.”
“Then we have to get it,” says Juda. “How can we gain access?”
“I think I already have it,” I say, and I tell them about my consultation with Kalyb this afternoon.
“It’s about more than access,” says Silas, “or I would have broken out last year. I couldn’t get any time in the room alone.”
“You weren’t allied with me and Mina last year,” Juda says, jade eyes twinkling. “If Mina already has a meeting, you and I can distract Kalyb so she has time to search.”
Silas considers this, slowly smiling.
This is all well and good, but they seem to be ignoring a much bigger question: “What about our Bees? Won’t they track us the second we leave?” I ask.
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