Paradise Abductions

by Mia Rodriguez

  Chapter 19

  "She's perfectly fine, Alcott," retorts Grinder. "We're the ones left in utter outrage! She says that when she told Highest Holy Bledsoe about Smythee, he told her not to say anything to us!"

  He is so furious that he had used Smythee's name. I had pushed the right buttons. Hopefully, the bomb I had detonated wouldn't explode all over me.

  "I don't understand how he could've left us out of the loop," snaps another Elder. "We knew about the problems in the hospital but nothing about what came later."

  "I was in the loop," smirks the Mister, his tone prideful.

  "You were?" asks a startled Grinder.

  "Of course," he asserts, his head way up. "Highest Holy Bledsoe would tell me everything."

  Inadvertently, the Mister's vanity and pride has saved me. He has reinforced my lie to make himself look good. I breathe a huge sigh of relief.

  "How was your meeting?" smirks Helga when I arrive at the slave quarters.

  I'm exhausted from doing chores and especially from the meeting with the Elders. I want to drop onto my bed and not move for the rest of the night.

  "Fine," I state.

  "I just bet it was," she says gleefully. "I bet they put you through the ringer and made you cry like a baby."

  "Actually," says a girl who was at the table with me, "she's probably the only one of us who stepped out of the courtroom as calm as a feather."

  Helga's face contorts into an ugly knot. "What did you tell them?!"

  "Master Barstowe went in to make sure she was okay," the girl explains.

  "Master Barstowe defended you?" snaps Helga.

  "He was there," I say coolly.

  "You've got all the luck!"

  I've been waiting for this day. After the week I've had, I need to throw my boomerang.

  My free hour.

  It's finally here.

  "Hey, where are you going?" asks Helga.

  "I'm going outside with my toy."

  "You can't go."

  "Why?" I ask, a ball of frustration swirling inside of me as I grasp my boomerang.

  "Highest Holy Grinder has suspended the free hours," she explains, a sick smile forming on her lips.

  "He couldn't have."

  Helga chuckles darkly. "He did."

  I want to throw myself on the floor like a child and have a hissy fit. I really do. The expression on my face turns Helga's ugly laughter into a cackle. Her voice hurts my ears.

  "What are we supposed to do during the hour?" I ask, getting my jagged disappointment under control.

  "Pray."

  "Pray?"

  "Highest Holy Grinder wants us to pray for our worthless souls. He wants us to be in an act of contrition over all the negative thoughts and poor performances this past week," she smirks. "He said that even if we lack just one percent dedication to the Great Master, we should be on our hands and knees begging for forgiveness."

  She knows like I do that it's all total garbage. We agree on as much as that. There's a knock on the door as I'm about to go to my bunk to go over sentences in my head. When she opens it, Miguelito steps in.

  "L-l-let's go, M-M-Monica," he tells me.

  "Where?" snaps Helga.

  "M-M-Master Barstowe gave M-M-Monica special p-p-p--"

  "Permission?" grumbles Helga. Miguelito's stutter drives her crazy. If she only knew.

  Miguelito nods. "She c-c-can play with her b-b-b--"

  "Boomerang?!"

  "Y-y-yes."

  Helga's face contorts viciously. "I don't see why she's so special!"

  "M-M-Master Barstowe," Miguelito says simply.

  I've already got the boomerang in my hands, so I quietly go past Helga to the door. Miguelito follows me out as Helga leers furiously at us. I know it's usually difficult to dislike a person who does nice things for you like Barstowe does for me, but his vicious acts stick to my head. Cruelty such as treating me like his property and hitting me with the club doesn't help my feelings towards him, even when he is occasionally kind.

  Once Miguelito and I make it to my special private spot, I turn to him. "You can go now." He probably has his own chores to do. The Elders constantly trust him with errands and such.

  "I have to stay with you," he whispers, making sure no one hears that he isn't stuttering. Even if we're alone we can't be too careful.

  "What?"

  "I'm assigned to you."

  "What?" I ask with more surprise than before.

  "Master Barstowe wants me to look after you."

  "I'm not a child," I state, irritated.

  "I know," he says uncomfortably, "but Master Barstowe thinks that the Elders have it in for you even when you were convincing in your meeting with them. They're vengeful and still want to punish you for helping to nurse Beatrix back to health."

  It's good to hear her name spoken out loud. She traveled through this world. I don't want to forget her.

  "He thinks that they'll do something against me?" I ask.

  "They're going to do something against Jana."

  "What is it?" I question, my stomach becoming queasy.

  He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. Master Barstowe wouldn't tell me."

  I sigh a breath of pure misery. I feel it for poor Jana. Whatever they're planning, it's horrible for certain. I start flinging my boomerang in bottled up fury. Miguelito keeps out of my way and sits on the grass away from me. I like that he knows how to give me my privacy.

  "You're very good with that thing," he says.

  "Thank you."

  But that's all the conversation we have for the moment. I keep throwing, and he quietly looks on. When I start purposely nipping certain targets like trees and bushes with the boomerang, he makes a sound of surprise.

  "Wow," he says.

  I shrug my shoulders and keep tossing. Jana keeps coming to my mind, and I suddenly lose all my energy for my toy. Sitting down next to Miguelito, he looks at me with a quizzical expression.

  "Are you sure you don't know anything about what's going to happen with Jana?" I ask, concern eating at me.

  "I don't know, Monica."

  "But, Miguelito--"

  "Please stop calling me Miguelito. I feel like a two-year-old kid with that name. Call me Miguel."

  I nod. I hate being treated like a child myself. "I'll call you Miguel in private if you call me Frida."

  "Frida?"

  "That's my real name."

  He grins. "I never knew that. I like it. The name Frida suits you. Underneath that calm exterior, you're fiery and talented like Frida Kahlo."

  "I was named after that artist," I explain. "How do you know about her?"

  "My parents had a print of one of her paintings."

  "You remember your mom and dad?" I ask excitedly.

  "Very clearly. Do you remember yours?"

  I smile. "I remember my mother. My father died when I was a baby."

  "How terrible. I'm sorry."

  "My mom was a great single mother."

  "My parents were awesome too." His voice has a dreamy quality to it.

  "Maybe you'll tell me about them someday."

  "I'll tell you about my family if you tell me about yours."

  "Deal."

  The church bells ring, and Miguel and I stand up. The hour is over, and I have to go to the slave quarters to leave the boomerang before heading to the Barstowe household to do chores.

  "Guess what?" asks Helga as I step into the doorway. She's excited and thrilled. It can't be good.

  "What?"

  "Jana is getting married."

  "But the one she was supposed to marry is dead." My heart squeezes when I think of Smythee.

  "She's been reassigned." That happens sometimes when the Masters or Elders die.

  "Who to?" I ask suspiciously.

  "To old man Highest Holy Grinder," she chirps gleefully.

  I'm sick to my stomach.