by Maguire, Ily
“I don’t think anyone’s following us,” Pike speaks to Ezekiel and he nods. “We would’ve been stopped by now.”
“Following us?” I ask, instinctively glancing back out the window.
“Yeah. You know, tracking us. Once they learn you’re gone, they’ll send people to find you,” Pike answers.
“And they’ll do it with extreme urgency. You were set to undergo artificial organ replacement. They don’t take that sort of thing lightly, these days,” Ezekiel adds, smirking.
He’s making fun of me.
“Who’s they?” I think I know. Dr. Rush. My father. “We should go back. I need to get back.”
“The Imperial Bead,” Pike answers.
“We’re not going back,” Ezekiel says.
“They control everything and your father is at the top,” Pike adds.
“But he’s just an attorney,” I say.
Ezekiel chuckles.
“They own everything. They own the hospitals, banks,” Pike interjects.
“Schools?” I ask. Pike nods.
Jenny.
“You learn what they tell you to learn.” Pike looks out the window. “And they can cause a massive amount of trouble if they find us.”
“And the Imperial Bead doesn’t like your cause,” I state. I’ve never put much thought into how those things work. I’ve never had to. I’ve always had money and done what my family has told me to do. I’ve never had to wonder. Or never been allowed to wonder. Is that how the Imperial Bead wants it?
“Ha!” Ezekiel laughs, but doesn’t look over. “You have your own money, Miss Campbell. And because of what your father does, the Imperial Bead makes money off of your money. If they decide that everyone has to be artificially replaced, then everyone will be artificially replaced. You may choose a doctor to do those replacements, but it’s the Beadledom’s decision who gets to be a doctor in the first place. All choice has been eliminated in society unless you have money. If the Beadledom wants someone’s parts for whatever reason, they will take them. Without hesitation. Without asking. Because they have the power and can do what they want. They sway all forms of media and they control the people who make decisions within the hospital, in schools, and government.” Ezekiel shakes his head.
“Beadledom?” I ask.
“Stupid government,” Ezekiel snaps.
“They won’t look too fondly on your, uh, kidnapping. Especially if it becomes public. It’s bound to become sensationalized in the media because of your affluence.” Pike’s voice is more level than Ezekiel’s and it puts me more at ease. Ezekiel frightens me. He seems angry. At me.
Pike goes back to looking out the window and I think of everything of mine that was like everyone else’s. Our house is like everyone else’s house. Our cars, our accessibility to anywhere in the city. My clothes, my family, are all like everyone else’s. But now that I think of it, we are like all the other people who have money. The only thing that makes me different are my organs. But those are set to be replaced. Like everyone else’s. Bile rises in my throat. It tastes sour and burns.
“How much farther?” I’ve lost all sense of time and place. I don’t want to think about the delusion of my existence, about my parents, or my father’s intricate involvement with this Beadledom. What about Evie and Dory? Does Dory know?
“Not much farther. Then we’ll rest and double-back–” Pike’s voice trails off and then stops. My eyes open. I must’ve passed out. “Rose? Rosamund?” Pike shakes my shoulders. The car is stopped and Ezekiel is talking to someone outside, though I don’t see anyone else out there. The day has gotten grey.
“Rosamund, take this,” Pike pushes a pill into my mouth and forces my throat to swallow it. It’s like a pebble that sticks to the inside of my esophagus. As I try to get it to slide down, the muscles just tighten, making it hard to breathe. I need water.
I take in a deep breath of air, the pill finally down. I am woozy, though not sick. The car sways a bit from side to side, but we’re not moving. We’ve stopped and I have a chance to wonder: “Is - is it my liver?”
“I dunno. I don’t think so. We were talking and you just slumped over.” Pike shakes his head.
“What color am I?” I hold my hands up to the light. I will not panic and I will not pass out. I will not panic.
Pike looks confused at my question.
“When I got sick, Dory said I turned yellow. Bile from my liver poisoning my body.” I look over my arms. Except for goosebumps, they haven’t changed.
“Who’s Dory?” Pike asks.
“My sister.” I’m surprised that he knows about me, but apparently nothing specific about my family other than our connection with the Imperial Bead. How does he know so much and I know so little? My hand moves over my chest. A pang – no – a pain, makes me gasp for breath. I’m panicking.
“Tithonus will see you.” Ezekiel steps back into the car. “I’ll await your return.”
My eyes strain to see straight. I regulate my lungs with slow, deep breaths in and then hold it before breathing out.
“Are you up for it?” Pike stands, putting his hand out again. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I exhale. “I’ll be okay.” I wish Dory were here. She’d steady me. She’d make it okay. I know she would.
“This is pretty important. He should give us some good direction.”
“I’ll have rehydrated something to eat for when you get back.” Ezekiel rummages through his bag.
I stifle a groan and grab my stomach. “Rehydrated food is the worst.” Dory leaves my mind, replaced by revulsion. I am a bit hungry, which surprises me, but not hungry enough for dried, mashed chickpeas, beans, oats, and modified vegetables.
“Can’t all afford it fresh,” Ezekiel mutters before I leave the car. He doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he spits on the ground.
The sun isn’t up, but it’s light out. A fog in the distance blocks my sight too far in either direction. I can’t tell where I am longitudinally. I think we’ve travelled east. Or was it west?
I step onto the wooden train platform and it is more like a long dock. The planks are arranged horizontally and they cross over shallow water before getting to a cobblestone street. The houses beyond are short, no more than two or three stories, and narrow, all different styles. All in various states of disrepair. Every house is a different color: Bright blue and pale yellow. Light pink and dark brown. Different shades of greens and purples. They almost look like something out of a fairy tale or storybook with their pretty colors and asymmetric styles, but so haunting with their chipping paint and crooked shutters.
I take a deep breath in. The air outside is cool and there is a slight, salty breeze. Different from inside the car or even from my house and hospital. There, the filtered air was always cold and sterile. This air is dense, but crisp and refreshing. It fills my lungs and I think how great it is to be alive, provided I’m not dying.
“What’s Tithonus going to tell us?” Will he be able to tell me how long I’ll live? Can we trust what he tells us?
“I dunno,” Pike answers.
Then what are we here for? We’ve reached the end of the dock and stepping onto the uneven cobbles of the street, I lose my balance. The butterflies in my stomach threaten my throat and I shiver. I’m scared of all this unknown. It’s nothing that I’ve learned in any of my classes with Jenny or conversations with Dory. We take a left and walk down the road. The stream is on our left and the rows of houses on our right.
“This is it.” Pike stops us in front of a purple door, a few houses down. The fog hangs in front of it. The fog isn’t in front of any other house. Strange.
It opens before Pike even knocks.
“Please come in. I’ve been expecting you.” A gravelly voice is quiet in the dim room. The rug on the floor reminds me of the one in my hospital room. Turkish, I think, with tassels along the edge.
Why did I leave again? I can’t go back now.
“Because you had to come
.” The voice tells me, reading my thoughts. I’m convinced and even more frightened. “Don’t be afraid. You needed to leave. There is something special about you and because you know what they were going to do to you wasn’t right.”
I shift nervously to hide myself behind Pike. He must sense something is wrong because he pushes me back behind him with his hand as we enter the house.
“Thank you for seeing us. I’m Pike Pelli and this is Rose Campbell.” Something flutters and swoops by my face. A moth? No, bigger than that. A bat?
“Ah yes. Pike and Rose. Rose and Pike. Rose. Rosamund. What a beautiful name. One for a beautiful girl?”
I still don’t see Tithonus. The voice comes from somewhere close by, but in the dark corners of the house. I look up at the low ceilings. The exposed beams are rotted and I’m wary of the structural integrity of this hovel.
“Yes. She is very beautiful,” Pike says and looks away. My cheeks warm. I stifle the urge to giggle. What did he say? Why am I reacting like this?
All of a sudden the room gets cold. I can hear the shuffling of feet ahead of us. An old man steps into the light so we can see him. His body is brittle and his skin hangs in loose strips on his face. He is bent over and on his back is a large hump, like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. He leans on a teak cane, tawny, dark wood worn along the handle and foot. A white shock of hair falls over his shoulders and down his back. It reminds me of the cobwebs I’ve read about in books.
Tithonus steps forward, the cane leading his way, and I step back. Pike doesn’t move. My stomach lurches. Cloudy, milky white, the old man’s eyes are open wide, searching for available light. Water drips on my forehead. A leak from somewhere above. I dare not look up or away.
“What are you looking to see?” Tithonus approaches Pike, but speaks to me.
Pike begins, “we need to know about my friend, Hara –”
“There are people worried about you,” Tithonus says.
My stomach sinks. I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t.
“But do not worry,” Tithonus’s voice is low and he speaks slowly. It crackles as he breathes. “They will understand. You have a mission. Everything you previously knew will create some confusion in you. You must find who you are.”
I don’t understand. “Well, uh, no. Not really. I’m with Pike and–”
“You are not sick.” Tithonus holds his hand up. “You were told you were very ill. You are not.”
“I’m not?” The side of my torso is hot.
“You have a very special gift. You are not sick.” Tithonus doesn’t blink.
“What does that mean?” I look to Pike, who shrugs and shakes his head. “I don’t understand.” The water drips faster. Like my hospital monitor. Like my racing heart.
“You must beware. You must protect your gift. Do not allow trespassers. They do not want what you want.” His mouth starts to tremble and his head twitches.
“So will she be able to help us?” Pike interrupts and I am unsettled.
“She will.” Tithonus looks through me, his gaze stopping at my soul. Can he really see? “But be careful. Things may begin. She will be very powerful. She is very powerful.”
Pike nods his head and leans toward the door. How come he isn’t asking about Hara? He takes my arm. It’s wet, too.
“Before you go–” Tithonus raises his voice.
Pike turns back around.
“Let me see her. Rosamund, please come close.” He waves his hand.
I’m paralyzed. Pike has to pull me out from behind him and then push me forward. I walk the rest of the way to the old man. Water squelches between my feet and I refuse to look down. He smells musty and his hair is much thinner up close than from afar. And wet. Dripping.
He takes his hand off his cane and steps toward me. The cane stands by itself and it doesn’t fall as one would expect. Tithonus takes hold of my hands and grasps them tight. Their heat sears my flesh. They’re on fire without flames. I can’t move them though I try to pull mine away. “You are very beautiful. I can sense it.”
“Thank you,” I breathe through gritted teeth. Tears come to my eyes. The pain is unbearable.
“You have to hold on to you as long as you can. Trust no one. You have an inner compass. Use it.” His voice is so soft that I’m sure Pike can’t hear from across the room. “Trust no one,” he says again before letting go of my hands and regaining stability on his cane. The pain vanishes immediately. My hands are cool and then cold. I look down. There isn’t a mark or a line on them.
I turn and walk as fast as I can back to Pike. He takes my hand. There’s that electricity again. The strength returns to me.
Before we can get to the door, Tithonus calls after us, “Rosamund, remember, beware! Beware of trespassers. Trust no one. Chipchip! Beware of the code. Chipchip! Don’t let them chipchip your code!” I watch him shake in seizure.
“Wait, what? What’s happening to him? Why is he making that sound?” My body trembles.
“It’s time to go.” Pike takes my arm.
“But what’s going on? What about Hara?” I pull back, but Pike yanks me toward him. Water flows down from the ceiling now. It splashes onto the floor. “Pike, please! Wait!” He throws me over his shoulder without any effort. I hear the faint chirping-chipping sound getting louder as the door closes behind us and Pike navigates the cobblestone street still carrying me. The fog has retreated and streaks of light break through the miasma.
“It’s the sun, Rose,” Pike exhales.
He puts me down.
“So what? What does that mean?” I am confused. I rack my brain for something that I may have learned before. Nothing comes to mind.
“It’s almost dawn, Rose, and he’s calling for Death.”
I gasp, recalling the desperation of the poem, where the Greek Tithonus, a once mortal man cursed to live forever, asks his love Eos, upon another dawn, to let him die: “Release me and restore me to the ground.”
I run ahead of Pike. “It’s time to go.”
7
“What did he say to you?” Pike asks as we hurry down the dock to the train car. I look back at the little red door. I could’ve sworn it was purple. The sky above is blue. Not a cloud in it. I wipe my forehead, but it is no longer wet. Nothing is wet. I’m completely dry.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what any of it means. What’s going to happen to me? Am I going to die like this? Why did we have to go there?” Pike grabs my shoulders and I stop rambling. He lets go and we step inside the train. Ezekiel starts it moving as soon as we’re in.
“I wish I had more answers myself. I don’t know, though. I’m still trying to figure it out.” Pike sits across from me and Ezekiel sits beside Pike. Ezekiel’s arms cross over his chest, and he looks relaxed for the first time.
“How’re you feeling?” Pike asks.
“Fine. Okay.” I don’t know how I feel. How I should feel. I don’t fully understand this experience so far.
“Tired?” He rubs his hand over his hair.
“A bit. But okay.” I smile. He doesn’t return it. It hasn’t been a full day since I’ve been gone. I know that much. I think.
“You don’t feel sick, do you?”
“Uh-uh.” I shake my head. I wonder what Dory is doing right now. Is she worried about me? Jenny would be. I’m not so sure about my parents. Maybe at one time they would have worried.
“Here, take this,” Pike leans forward and hands me another pill.
“What are these anyway?” I swallow it without water. A jagged little pill.
“They were by your bedside. It says Amlacyclin. Take one as needed.”
“As needed for what?”
“I dunno, but Hara said it couldn’t hurt.” Pike returns the cap to the pill bottle.
“You talked to the nurse? When?” I shouldn’t, but I feel slightly betrayed. What is going on with me?
“When you were sleeping. She wanted to see how you were doing.” Pike stares out the window.
&
nbsp; “I’ve never taken anything before. Before today, that is. I’ve never had to take anything. It has my name on it?” I tilt my head at Pike.
“Yup. Your prescription and your name. And your doctor, Doctor Suresh. That’s it.”
“Who? You mean Dr. Rush.”
“No. Dr. Suresh. Look, here,” Pike extends the bottle so I can read the label. “Doctor Anushree Suresh,” he repeats.
“That’s not my doctor.” My hands get clammy. I look down. At least they aren’t swollen. My stomach lurches and I’m dizzy. “Have I been poisoned? Is it poison?” I clutch my throat. I can’t swallow.
“You’re not being poisoned,” Ezekiel’s voice is low and monotone. His eyes are closed and he doesn’t turn his head as he speaks to me. “If you were, you’d be dead by now.”
“How do you know? Do you even know what–” I have to take the pills from Pike to read the prescription. “Amlacyclin is?”
“Hara had it written up for you. Dr. Suresh is an old friend.” Ezekiel’s eyes squint open. I glance over at Pike, whose eyes narrow. I don’t know him well enough to tell if he’s angry that he didn’t know Hara was involved in this plan or if he’s jealous that he didn’t know Ezekiel’s knowledge of it. My guess is the latter more so than the former.
“Do you know what it is?” Pike’s voice is monotone like Ezekiel’s.
“Amlacyclin is made up,” Ezekiel answers. “It’s concentrated Amla or Indian gooseberry. For a fatiguing liver. Herbal remedy. Nothing less. Nothing more.”
Ezekiel looks over at me and laughs. Then closes his eyes again. The conversation is over. Pike’s eyes close, too. I stare out the window at the fading daylight. With the midnight sun, it will never set and we will have twenty-four hours of light with no darkness. I’m no closer to understanding where I am or why I’m here. The dizziness evaporates and I don’t feel sick. At least I’m not dying.
8