What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  Reed lightly shrugged. “They would still be my parents,” he said softly.

  “They murdered people, Reed.” My voice hissed, but I didn’t care to stop it. I felt desperate, like I was suddenly drowning and my words were the only thing that could save me. “And what’s even worse, they told me they didn’t regret it. They said the men deserved it. The men deserved to be killed because my parents ‘didn’t like them.’ What kind of monsters –”

  “Monsters. They do sound like monsters.” Reed looked me in the eyes, watching me. He leaned in closer, bending down to make sure I could see his face as he studied me. “But have you ever wondered if there could be more to the story?”

  I felt my head nodding. I couldn’t speak. Before my parents had told me their crime, I had always hoped there might be a loophole. Some sort of forgotten truth that would set them free. Some mistake that had happened that could prove they never deserved the life they had lived for the last eighteen years. Could it be possible that hope could still live?

  “Maybe. Not right now though. I just…” I trailed out, letting my eyes drift back to the sign.

  “Hey, no rush. That office isn’t going anywhere.”

  Reed put his hand on my back again, guiding me down the sidewalk. We walked slowly, enjoying the still warm sun. It was nice to get away from the apple picking for the day. I hadn’t realized how dull the routine at the Orchard had gotten until now. Walking down the side of the street, with nothing planned or expected turned out to be a welcome change.

  I took a deep breath, the feeling of drowning disappearing with each step we took away from the office. The fog teased me, but I blinked it away.

  “Reed,” I asked, finally venturing into a question that had been on my mind. “You said your parents are gone… where are they?”

  Reed stared ahead, his hand still light on my back. “Dead.”

  “Oh,” I said, unable to think of a better response. “Do you know… who…”

  “The Nation killed my parents.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Reed clench his eyes shut a moment, swallowing hard.

  We stopped at a street corner. A few cars passed, followed by the same rolling police car. The man with the star pin, the Sheriff no doubt, drove slowly by. His eyes fastened on mine a moment before he looked away. I could barely see him through the tinted glass, talking into a small radio before driving on. Reed watched the car disappear around the corner. His eyes suddenly glittered, his breath coming quick as he grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his.

  “Come on,” he said. “I want to get you something.”

  He pulled me across the street, his mood suddenly light and happy. I tried to protest. I already felt strange that he had bought me food. I knew I would have to repay him. Now he wanted to get me something else. It didn’t feel right. Reed shouldn’t be spending anything on me. He barely knew me.

  Reed ignored my silent protest. His hand, firmly holding mine, pulled me along behind him. I looked down to see his fingers wrapped around mine, tiny scars from working at the Orchard in the trees scattered across his tan knuckles. My hand looked so small and pale in his, but something that seemed right about their stark contrast.

  I looked up in time to see he had pulled me to a stop in front of the clothing store we had first passed. The mannequins in the windows smiled at me, beckoning me in. I looked down at my dirty blue shirt, my used prison jeans. The loose seams, the dirt stains and tears made me very aware of Reed’s other hand on my back, touching the worn-out shirt.

  Reed opened the door and pulled me in. Inside it smelled of flowers and clean linen, light music playing from hidden speakers. I stopped for a moment, letting the music flow over me. Reed gently tugged on my hand, pulling me towards a stack on a clean white table

  It seemed to hold a shirt in every color I could ever imagine, simple button downs made to fit snug against the body. I reached forward and touched one lightly. The fabric was soft, so soft.

  “Well, pick one.”

  I glanced at Reed then looked back at the waiting shirts. I didn’t know where to start. Slowly walking down the length of the rack, I took in every color. Then I saw it. A dark purple shirt, the same shade as the shirt of the woman who had released me, sat neatly folded at the edge of the rack.

  I picked it up, running my fingers over it. The fabric felt so smooth under my touch, like warm summer water. I could barely imagine how it would feel wrapped around me. Reed smiled at me then pulled me to a small room at the back.

  “Go in there and put it on,” he said, opening the door for me.

  I walked in, Reed shutting the door behind me, and quickly did as he told. Pulling off my blue shirt, I carefully put on the purple top, taking my time to button each button as delicately as I could. The fabric hugged tightly against my body, wrapping me in the silky smooth bliss.

  Cracking the door open, I waited until I saw Reed’s face smiling at me. “Well, do I get to see?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

  I stepped out tentatively. In front of me stretched a large mirror, my entire body reflecting back at me. I stared at the mirror, realizing I had never seen a clear reflection of myself before. My reflection had always been flits I saw in windows or the hammered metal mirrors, splashes in puddles of water, glimpses in the truck’s side mirrors. This mirror was smooth and perfect, shining as my mirrored self stared back at me.

  The top fit snug around my body, showing the curves of my hips and bust. Its vibrant purple made my skin seem to almost glow, my cheeks rosy above the crisp collar. I took a step closer, barely able to believe that the person staring back at me could actually be me. Even with the same jagged cropped hair, the same full lips and pale skin, I looked… different. It wasn’t the light red always present on my cheeks from the long hours spent out in the sun. Or the always present layer of dirt under my short finger nails. There was something else, something new and very different, that I couldn’t place.

  In the reflection I could see Reed standing behind me. His hand slowly combed back through his dark hair. His eyes glittered, lips slightly parted as he took me in.

  “Yup, that’s a keeper,” Reed said softly.

  I turned to face him. He stood off to the side, arms folded loosely across his chest, smiling at me. His eyes were soft, his smile hiding something gentle. I wanted so bad to know the thoughts that caused that strange but oddly comforting look to grow on his face.

  Reed took a step closer. He trailed a finger down my arm, taking in the smooth fabric. I could feel him breathing. Even with the space between us, I could feel the intake of breath, the slight pause, then the exhale as the air passed his parted lips. Reed let his eyes trail up to mine.

  “You are beautiful, Millie. Do you know that?”

  I couldn’t answer. A small smile touched my lips.

  Reed moved in closer. His eyes seemed to be searching mine for something. Hand still resting on my arm, he raised the other to tuck a loose strand of my still short hair behind my ear. He parted his lips to say something, then stopped. A moment later, he asked the question that hinted at his lips. “Do I know you?”

  I felt myself laugh. “Of course you do, Reed.”

  Reed shook his head. “No, I mean. Have we met? Before?”

  “How could you know me, before?” I could feel my brow wrinkle together.

  “I don’t know.” Reed shook his head, his hand that had touched my hair just a moment ago now resting on my other arm. I heard him take a deep breath, the air rumbling in his chest. “You just seem familiar. There is something about you, something I can’t place my finger on, that makes me swear I knew you before you came to the Orchard. I bet that sounds crazy, huh?”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t sound crazy to me.”

  A smile spread on Reed’s face. He seemed to glow. His hands tightened softly on my arms for a moment before he let go and took a step away. My arms felt cold without him.

  “Come on, let’s get it,” he said. I moved to go and change out of th
e shirt, but Reed stopped me. “Nope. You are wearing that out. Millie, this is a new life. You are finally starting. It’s about time to stop with the prison garb.” He looked at me, his eyes still softened with that strange emotion. “You look beautiful.”

  My cheeks threatened to burn. I didn’t say anything. How could I respond to that? I quickly snatched up my blue shirt and hurried to follow Reed. By the time I caught up to him, he was already handing a wrinkled bill to the woman standing behind the front counter. She smiled and nodded at him, wishing for him to have a good day.

  Exiting out onto the sidewalk, I grew strangely self-conscience. My hands flattened the shirt over and over, trying in vain to smooth every wrinkle out of its purple fabric.

  “Relax,” Reed said in my ear, putting an arm around my waist. I was very aware of the way he was holding me closer, my body tingling at his touch. The strange distance between us still lingered, but he acted like nothing was wrong as he guided me back toward where we had split from Eddie.

  I could feel eyes on me. People glanced at me as they walked past. Mostly men. Then the eyes got stronger. I could feel them bearing into me, watching my every move with hunger. Chills ran down my spine. I had felt that feeling before. In another life.

  Stopping in my tracks, I spun around. Behind me, barely hidden around the corner of the building, I could see his blue eyes watching, the smirk plastered on his strong face.

  “What is it?” Reed asked, his voice full of concern.

  I glanced at Reed, my eyes wide. My breath had frozen in my chest, my bottom lip quivering as my stomach tightened into the old familiar knot. Fog teased at the corner of my vision. Turning my head back to where I had seen him, I found no one was there. A small child happily ran by, ducking around the corner to disappear after a rolling ball.

  “Nothing.” I smiled at Reed, forcing myself to turn away and walk again.

  Reed nodded, pulling me back into stride. Behind me I could still feel the burn of Carl’s hidden eyes on my stiff back.

  16

  I sat at the fire, the flames causing the shadows beyond to flicker in a dance that kept my skin prickling in goose bumps. I couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes watching me. We had been back at the Orchard for hours now and I could still feel the penetrating gaze bearing into my back, no matter where I turned. I felt twitchy, constantly jerking to look behind me, so sure I would see Carl smirking at me, lunging for me. Even Reed’s reassuring touch didn’t calm the strange paranoia that had taken me over.

  The fire glowed warm on my face. It felt good to sit around the flickering fire again, regardless of the distant shadows, Reed so close that I could feel his body heat hot against my chilled flesh. Every so often he would turn to talk to someone, his arm brushing mine. I felt tingles run up and down my body each time. As the night wore on, I found myself longing for more of those moments.

  “Are you alright, Millie?” Reed asked. I had been sitting silent, knees tucked up to my chest, staring intensely into the fire for most of the evening. The feeling of eyes watching me bore into my soul, freezing me in fright. Staring into the fire was all I could manage to do.

  Forcing a smile, I finally tore my eyes from the fire and looked into Reed’s. “I’m fine. Tired. It was a long day.”

  Reed nodded. “Was it a good day?”

  The smile became real on my lips.

  “It was,” I answered softly.

  Reed smiled back. Inching closer, he carefully put an arm around me. I felt his hand mindlessly stroke the silky smoothness of my new shirt as he got lost in watching the flames. Occasionally a small group of men would wander by. Reed would glance up at them, watching as they whispered to each other and scanned me. I could see his face darken, his eyes bear into them until they finally moved on.

  I had dealt with men like that my entire life. I knew they were there, I knew what was running through their minds when they cracked those sly smiles my way. But I couldn’t seem to get myself to reassure Reed of this. I instead found myself melting into his protective arms, relishing the fact that, for once, I didn’t have to be the only one on guard.

  I wished he could make the eerie feeling of eyes watching my soul disappear.

  I felt a shiver run down my spine. Shaking it away, I could feel Reed pull back enough to look at me. “Are you sure you are alright, Millie?”

  “I’m tired,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I could feel sleep tugging at my heavy eyes, my limbs heavy with needed rest. The exhaustion ran deeper than our busy day in town, but something about the fear in the pit of my stomach kept me from telling that to Reed. “I think I should get to bed.”

  Reed nodded, rising to his feet and helping me up. Without asking, he moved in closer, silently guarding me as we walked toward my quarters. He walked stiffly, constantly looking over his shoulder as the fire grew smaller behind us. I finally let out a heavy breath and turned my face to him.

  “Reed, you can relax. I know they are watching me.”

  Reed glanced at me, then looked over his shoulder again. The group of men were watching, laughter boiling from their loose huddle. “You have no idea what those guys are like, Millie. They are trouble.”

  “I don’t?” I asked, stopping in my tracks. “I really don’t? Reed, those are the guys I have spent my entire life around. Rapists, pedophiles, thieves, murderers. Have you forgotten that little fact? I had to walk past those guys every single day. I have felt them watching me every time I dared to venture out of my cell.”

  Reed clenched his eyes shut, a hand reaching to rub the bridge of his nose. Something inside me flared. I took another step away from him. My breath shuddered as I sharply drew it in.

  “Yes Reed, I lived in a cell. And do you know why? Because my parents are murderers. The Nation locked me in a cell for the first eighteen years of my life, because my parents decided to kill. That’s the truth. It really happened. I am not some stupid little town girl who only wants to flirt and cuddle in your arms!” I could feel my face getting hot with anger. The words were spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  Reed slowly opened his eyes, his finger still gripping the bridge of his nose. He didn’t move. He didn’t even speak. He just stood there, his eyes watching me.

  A moment ago I had been content in his arms. I relished his protection. Now I couldn’t stand it. My body felt itchy, like my skin had grown too small for my bursting spirit. I didn’t like how I kept snapping at Reed. He didn’t deserve it. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. In some way, I didn’t want to.

  I let out another angry breath. My hands were clenching into fists at my side. “I have had to protect myself from those guys since the day I could remember.” I pointed at the group of men, emphasizing who I was talking about. The men stopped their laughter as they saw me look their way. Without a word, they quickly moved off into the dark.

  “The guards didn’t protect me from them. My parents sure as hell didn’t protect me from them. I did.” My voice faltered. I could feel the lump rising in my throat.

  I felt so angry. A helpless anger, aimed at no one in particular, and aimed at everyone in the world.

  Reed lowered his hand from his face. I could see his body sway, as if wanting to move closer to me, then stopping itself before it had a chance to move an inch.

  “I think your parents were protecting you more than you know, Millie,” he said gently.

  I couldn’t speak. My lips refused to form words, my mind reeling at what he had said.

  “Millie,” he continued, his hands tucking into his pockets. “I know where you came from. But you aren’t there anymore. I know you had to protect yourself your entire life. You might not need me, but it’s about time you need someone. It’s about time you let someone else do the protecting.”

  His eyes looked heavy. They searched mine a moment, almost begging for me to argue or consent, to say anything. When I didn’t answer, he let his eyes blink, looking away back towards the fire. He nodded once, then started back do
wn the path away from me. I wanted to stop him. I willed my voice to call his name. But nothing happened. I just watched as he disappeared into the night, then ran into my quarters.

  | | |

  I pulled open the dresser drawer, shoving my clothes aside as I dug for the sock. My fingers finally brushed it and I snatched it up, slamming the drawer shut. I flopped onto the bed, feeling the springs bend around my body. The envelope of cash dumped out first. It landed on the mattress next to me, a few bills sliding out. I snatched up the sea glass, shoved the money back in, then pushed the sock aside.

  I let the sea glass roll out into my palm. The light from the small lamp hit it, causing the green to glow slightly against my flesh. Rubbing a finger over it, I felt the small cracks and sandy rough spots, broken up by the wave-smoothed patches of time. The memory of Orrin crept into my mind.

  For the first time since I had left the prison, I pulled open the drawer next to my bed and lifted out my notebook. Still clutching the glass in my hand, I cracked the book open and started to flip through the pages.

  Every page held a different conversation. The scribbled words brought back memories. Some were angry, some goofy, some so boring I caught myself yawning as I turned past them. I flipped through the pages faster, working my way to the end of the stack.

  Finally, I found what I was looking for. I pulled it out quickly, almost tearing the corner that I held too tightly between my fingers. Orrin’s handwriting was perfect on the lined surface. I tucked up my knees, laying the page gently against them as I reread some of his final words.

  You are who you are Millie. No one decides who you are but yourself. If you want to be mad like them, then be mad like them. But if you want to be different, please, be different.

  … Dear, that is a question every child your age has asked since the dawn of time. Life is ahead of you. What this Nation is doing… they lock away the people and make them become the criminals they so fear. I do not know what you will become. But I pray to God that you don’t allow them to decide your fate.