Toadie.
Eve will still be here. I’ll clean up this mess, then I’ll be back for her. She’ll understand.
Chapter Twelve
Eve
I have no claim on Adam. I have no right to demand to know where he’s going and what he’s doing. He never made me any promises.
So why does it hurt so bad when everything changes?
I know the second it happens. A murmur of an engine on the street outside. A large vehicle from the sound of it. It’s as if everything comes to a stop. I hear my every heartbeat.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
He thinks he’s being sneaky when he moves through the house. Every inch of my awareness follows his progress through the rooms. I reach for him with invisible tendrils, hoping to halt his hasty departure for just one second. Hoping that he’ll remember me. For a moment he stops, and I think he’ll say something.
And then he doesn’t.
I’ll take care of you.
I know he said it, but I never fully expected him to take on the burden that is me. Wanting to believe it, and trusting it to happen, are two different things. I don’t blame him. I understand.
My skin, which a moment ago was sated from his touch, infused with Adam’s essence, now aches from the loss. I strain to hear anything else from the street and it doesn’t take long before there’s a sound of the same large engine again, a door slamming, a shout, silence so thick it seems as if the whole world holds its breath, then more cars.
My hand trembles pathetically when I put the coffee cup to my mouth. I recoil from the surprise when the liquid hits my tongue. It tastes bitter and has turned cold. I don’t know how long I sit before I realize I need to eat something and do what I always do. I take care of myself to the best of my ability. In the kitchen, on the counter, are baked beans in a pot. There’s a small residue of warmth left. Like in my heart. Heated recently, but now with only remains of the fire he lit.
I re-heat the beans, but in the microwave instead, then I eat them as I plan my day. My workshop needs tidying up. I need to change my sheets and wipe down the house. With the desert in the east, the wind brings with it dust that settles in every crack and on every untouched surface.
The sound of gravel crunching has me shooting to my feet in an instant. My first thought is that he’s back, and I take a few too hasty steps toward the front door, losing my sense of direction. Slowing down, I realize it’s more likely Kiki, and that I need to find my bearings before I run into something.
“Evie, dear?”
The well-known, light voice, with a hint of a foreign accent, and then three harsh raps on the door, make a tremor run through me. It’s both relief and profound sadness. I owe everything to Kiki Kann, and still I wish it was Adam. Adam whom I have only known a few hours. Adam who breathed fire into my frozen core, whose features are forever etched into my fingertips. Adam, his scream on the counter in my basement. I itch to touch him and curl my fingers, skimming his rough edges in my memory as I move toward the door.
“Kiki? Are you well?”
Just as I ask it, I remember what Adam told me, and my hand shoots up to finger the odd scar, mostly hidden away in my scalp. So strange. Do I not need to be afraid anymore? Does it even matter? I pat along the little table by the door, find the fabric mask and quickly hook the straps behind my ears, covering my lower face.
“I’m good, Eve. Have you had any visitors?”
I freeze up. I should tell Kiki the truth. What kind of a friend am I if I put her at risk? But Adam seemed all right and… I just don’t want to tell Kiki that he was here, that he exists, that any of this happened. I want to keep it and contain it as my secret. I’ll open the lid occasionally, just a little, inhale the warmth of the memories, then put it away. If I don’t, I won’t survive.
“Of course not,” I say as my insides blacken with shame. Our agreement is built on the trust between us and I just betrayed it.
But he was healthy. His skin was gloriously warm, but it wasn’t sweaty. His breaths were calm and even. He ate. He slept with no signs of unrest.
He wasn’t sick. I know it.
And the children who knocked on my door never made it inside. We never came close enough.
I unlock, remembering I’ll need to make sure to lock the back door where he snuck out.
“Eve!” Kiki sweeps in and brings with her scents of freshly cut grass and a cloud of heavy, flowery perfume.
I close the door behind her and wait. My heart beats so hard I’m afraid she’ll hear it and know something is wrong. I hope she’s wearing a mask. She should be. She’s a clever woman. Steps. She moves away from me, stops, moves again. She’s pacing. Inhaling as if to speak, she then breathes out in a sharp, and still oddly muffled, huff. She’s definitely covering her face like she should. Thank God.
I wait.
Kiki is normally a chatterbox. There’s no stopping her mouth from running. Sudden worry grips around my chest with spindly, strong fingers. She’s fidgety, which is not like her. She moves deeper into the house, and I follow the sound of her steps. The cup I just drank from rattles as she moves it. Finally, I can’t hold it in any more.
“Is everything all right?”
She inhales sharply. “You know, dear. There are things going on out there you can’t possibly know of and should never have to know of because you’re a good, clean spirit who can make magic happen. The world needs magic, Eve. The world needs you. I have no right to keep you locked away forever. I need to take care of you and make sure you’re safe and well, and I love you so, so much. You know I do. Right? I’d never do anything to harm you, Eve. You know that. But I have to look after myself too, and things are not going well. There is no government, and…there is just nothing—”
Her voice breaks on the last word and then comes a long inhale again.
“No government?”
“It all fell apart. You know how he refused to wear a mask? People think he died. There’s been no news for weeks of his whereabouts. No one’s managing things, Eve. I had to act. This country is plunging into the dark ages, and fast.”
“Kiki? What have you done?” No government? Dark ages? The concern festers, grows, buries its long, icy talons deeper in my chest. I close the distance between us and reach for her, faster than I normally move, nervous energy rushing through my veins, making my moves jerky. Her feet shuffle against the floor, and I clench my hand into a fist, remembering that touching is a bad thing.
Adam.
And such a very good thing.
I swallow down the sorrow, put a lid on it.
“Eve, I…took care of it. I took care of you. Bad things are coming.”
“What do you mean? What bad things? What did you take care of?”
“I can’t sell your sculptures, love. But I have—” She swallows loudly. “Arranged something.”
Everything inside me screams danger. “What did you do?” I whisper.
“There’s a man. He lives on a large estate outside of town. He’s got everything we need and can ever wish for. He’s promised to take care of you.”
My heart grows colder by the second. “In exchange for what?”
My friend is silent.
“Kiki?”
“He says he likes art. He’ll look after you.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t want to leave my house. I have everything I need right here. In exchange for what, Kiki? What did you promise him? Who is he?”
“He won’t touch you, Eve. I made sure of that.”
I recoil, then stumble back as nausea rises in me.
He won’t touch me.
“What deal did you make?”
“Please.” A hand on my arm. I’m so surprised at the touch that I nearly jump through the roof. “I’m sorry, Eve, I shouldn’t have— You can’t stay here. I can’t come anymore. I can’t help you when I can’t even help myself. But it’s all settled now. You’ll be cared for.”
“What about you?”
&n
bsp; “I’ll—”
“Can we get this fucking freak show on the road!” The man’s rough voice sounds from the direction of the front door.
“Yes! We’re coming.” Kiki grabs my arm again, this time on purpose, and pulls. “I’ll explain on the way. I will. But we need to go. We’re lucky, Eve. We’re really lucky. You’re lucky. It’ll be all right. I promise.”
I stumble next to Kiki as she pulls me with her. My mind runs a thousand miles per hour. I think of my things. My clothes. My sculptures. A lifetime in the same house. Childhood memories. Adam. He won’t know where I have gone. But he left. Maybe he won’t ever be back?
I have a horrible, horrible feeling about what kind of deal Kiki has made. I’ve lived a strange and sheltered life, but I’m not stupid.
A cloud of sweat, cigarettes, and cow dung hangs heavy in the hallway. The man, whoever has come into my home, reeks something unimaginable. I pray this isn’t the person Kiki has made her deal with as I feel his gaze wandering my body, feel the stunned silence I’m so used to when a stranger takes in my odd appearance.
Everything plunges inside me. The little beauty and warmth I have held like a fluttery bird in cupped hands is squashed with the silent disapproval from a man who smells like he sleeps in a ditch. That’s how frail it is. It isn’t real. Adam is just a dream.
This is real. This is my life. This is how it always used to be.
I almost crave the abuse. It’s the only thing I know.
The man scoffs. Huffs. Mutters. Kiki pulls me by my arm. Her hand is clammy and trembles slightly.
“The ride leaves now. I don’t like being here. Gives me the jeebies. Get the chick to come or leave her. I don’t care.”
“I’ll help you with your shoes, Eve,” whispers Kiki. “Please, don’t be difficult. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m doing this for you.”
Kiki helps me put on my old clogs and hangs a jacket over my shoulders.
“My purse.”
“Is it the beige one?”
I don’t know what color my bag is and raise my eyebrows as I turn to Kiki’s voice.
“Ehm,” she says. “Large, a rough canvas-like fabric, two pockets on the outside on one side. Buttons.”
I hold out my arm, and she hands me my bag. I nod as I feel the familiar shape then clutch it to my chest. I can’t remember when I even used it last, but taking a bag is instinct and a slight sliver of normalcy.
“Let’s go, Eve.”
I let Kiki lead me down the stairs. The door to my childhood home clicks closed behind me and I have a horrible feeling I’ll never set foot here again.
“Keys,” I gasp and rummage around the contents in my bag, close my fingers around the cold metal and then hand it to Kiki. Impatience radiates off the man who needs to wash, but he’s quiet as Kiki locks my front door and then hands me back my key. I push her hand away. “Back door. I think it’s unlocked. Please.”
“Why would it—”
“Please…just lock it.”
A sharp exhalation from the man makes me twitch. He stomps off. A car door opens and closes, and an engine comes to life.
“Please.”
My friend disappears from my side, leaving a waft of perfume in her wake, then quick steps on gravel and she puts the key in my hand, firmly, with finality. “It was unlocked. What have you been up to?”
“It was—”
“Never mind.” She helps me into the backseat of a car that stinks so bad I know I’ll be sick. I’m happy I haven’t eaten a lot. I don’t think his man will take kindly to me vomiting in his backseat. Or maybe it won’t make a difference? Maybe it literally can’t reek worse than it already does?
As the car moves, I think of the sculpture of Adam’s head, drying in my basement. Now, I’ll never get to fire it and preserve it. I’ll never get to touch his strong features again.
“Where are we going? Talk to me.” I lean toward Kiki, keeping my voice down, making sure the driver can’t hear me. “Why can’t you sell? What changed?”
She laughs, but it’s a bitter sound. “I haven’t sold a painting or a sculpture in months. Not a single one.”
“But you said—”
“I said it to keep you happy. I didn’t want to worry you, Eve.” A cool hand strokes my cheek. I close my eyes and lean into her touch. It’s such a strange feeling to be caressed. My heart swells with worry, and it spreads as electrified snakes through my chest. I move away.
“Why didn’t you let me know? You didn’t have to keep providing for me. I thought— I’m so stupid and selfish. I’m so sorry. You always seemed so strong and assured. It never occurred to me that you struggled.”
“I have barely eaten in weeks,” she says, her voice subdued.
“Where are we going?”
“There’s this man… He’s got a farm, and there’s water and electricity and security.”
“But…people? The plague?”
“He’s very strict with the quarantine. He doesn’t let anyone in unless they’re either immune or have been quarantined for a week. But when you’re in, you’re in. Life is good there. This is a real thing.”
Kiki gets back some of the color in her voice. She’s excited. I hope she’s right. Everything inside me screams this is wrong. But maybe she comes from a place of desperation I haven’t felt yet?
“Why did you protect me?” The car rocks on uneven roads, and it’s too hot. The stench makes me nauseous. I put a hand over my mouth. “How far is it?” I moan.
“Hey,” shouts Kiki. “How much further?”
“Couple of hours,” comes the man’s voice from the front. “You good back there, ladies?”
“Have you got some water?” I ask.
Something heavy hits my knee and bounces off me.
“Hey!” Kiki sounds upset. She moves and then a plastic bottle is pushed into my hand. “Here, Eve. I’m sorry he’s being such a douche. I don’t like him.”
I unscrew the bottle and take a sip of lukewarm water before I hand it to Kiki. “Is he the man you made your ‘deal’ with?”
Kiki swallows a few gulps. “Oh, no, no. Farmer Joe is nothing like that guy.”
“Farmer Joe?”
“I don’t know his real name, but he’s building a new society. It’s a shelter. A new beginning.”
“Did you meet him?”
Kiki waits a moment too long, and I already have my answer. “No. But I know it’ll be all right. You don’t need to worry about anything. You’ll be safe.”
I finger the scar again, then force my hand away and put my clenched fists in my lap. “What about you? What deal did you make, Kiki?”
“Don’t worry about me. Sometimes you just have to…do what you have to do, you know.”
“Did you sell yourself?”
“You don’t need to think about it,” she says. Too quickly.
“How long have I known you? Fifteen years? In all these years I’ve known a strong woman who stands up for herself. You never sold out. Ever.”
“The times have changed, Eve!” Her voice is suddenly filled with venom, but it isn’t really directed against me. She’s as worried as I am.
“We don’t have to do this.”
“You’re wrong. We really do need to do this, or we will die. I had no other choice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ll be all right. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
The car rocks. The stench has become one with my skin. Sweat trickles between my breasts, and my butt is like glued to the seat. That is a promise she can’t make. Whatever happens to us now will be in the hands of someone else, someone who might not have our best interests at heart.
“I hope you’re right.”
Chapter Thirteen
Adam
Coran catches up with me right outside the city limits, and we ride together back to the compound. It feels as if my body is trying to tear itself in two. One part of me can’t wait to get back home to Toadie. I’ve
been away from him longer than two days before, I even missed his first couple of years in life without knowing it, but not knowing how I’d get back home was excruciating and has gnawed a hole inside me of longing for the little man. The other part of me is still with Eve in that quiet old house. Despite being behind the wheel, I close my eyes for a second and imagine her light fingers dancing across my face. I miss her smell. I miss her voice. I miss her curious frown, her bright smile, and her lithe body pressed into mine as I take her.
So soft. So strong. So vulnerable, and so fierce.
Vowing to go back as soon as possible and bring her home with me, I push her out of my mind and focus on the tasks at hand.
“Daddy!” Toad’s brown eyes light up when he looks up and sees me.
“Toadie.” I swing my little fellow high up in the air, making him squeal, then I hug him tight to my chest. I sense Coran’s impatient presence behind me and turn. Still holding my son, I shoot Lee, the young, scarred woman who’s been watching Toad this whole time, a grateful look as I walk over to my partner in crime.
“So, the water guys from the other county,” I say. “Who are they?”
“Do you need a break?” asks Coran. “You just got home an’ all.”
I scoff and wave dismissively. Resting is not what I need. I need action. I need to keep my mind off things.
Coran shrugs. “They’re no criminal masterminds. I think some of ’em actually ran the plant and saw an opportunity. Things could have been peaceful if that fuck of a farmer hadn’t been so greedy. He’s rubbed them the wrong way one too many, it seems. He’s been making moves at taking over the plant. He also took the sister of one of the guys. That was the last straw for ’em. They want nothing more than to take him down and join forces with us.”
“But for how long?”
“For as long as needed. They’re disorganized and vulnerable. The farmer has made attempts against them. It’ll happen again, but with some other faction. They need our protection. In return, we get whatever we can take out of the farm.”
I Am Eve Page 10