Elite: The Satellite Trilogy Part II

by Lee Davidson

  In true Willow form, she takes the lead and breaks the rest of the Satellites—minus Evelynn and Billy—into groups. She sends me across the field with Anna.

  After some small talk, I try to block Anna three times with no success. The only thing that comes from my attempts is the feeling that my skull splitting in half. During a much needed break, we watch the others work. Willow, Lawson, and Jackson are having the same bad luck. Lawson is rubbing his temples and, by his angry expression, I’d say he’s feeling about as good as I am. Evelynn and Billy must have decided to join in the fun, because Billy’s stomping his feet in a toddler-like rage when Evelynn stands up and gets back into a position to be blocked.

  Morgan is the only Elite making any progress with Reed. Jealously roots and makes my throat tight.

  Before I succumb to another failure, my calimeter buzzes, sending my migraine into overdrive.

  Anna mimics my movement, reaching for her watch. “We’ll keep trying.”

  Her words make me want to punch something, while the empathy in her voice makes me want to hug her. Anna is so selfless, and ultimately, my emotions get the better of me and I do hug her.

  “Thanks,” I say into her hair.

  She wraps her arms tightly around me, which eases my nerves. “We’ll figure this out,” she muffles into my chest. “I’m sorry this happened, Grant. I wish you remembered Tate. Elliott and Willow both say you loved her so much. I don’t think it’s right to have such strong feelings about someone and then just forget them. I can’t believe we all agreed…” She pulls away.

  “You did what you had to. You’re a good person, Anna, and a really good friend.”

  A tear rolls down her cheek. “You’re a good friend, too.” She pauses and half laughs. “We’d better get over to Willow before her arms fall off.”

  Over my shoulder, I can’t help but grin. Willow is flailing her arms, presumably to everyone on the field, in a motion that says “come here.”

  Willow’s already begun her speech by the time Anna and I reach her. “…must get back to your assignments. Let’s get together in the Y hall at next break. I’ll let Liam know where we’re meeting. Morgan, even though this doesn’t directly affect you, you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with her.”

  Billy’s icy tone toward Morgan is uncalled for and Lawson gives him a disagreeable look. “I think what Billy means is, you may want to avoid getting involved in this mess. You’ll have plenty of other things to worry about soon.”

  “I, for one, say there’s nothing wrong with including another mind, hers especially. She has the advantage of not being directly involved and may be able to give us some fresh insight,” Willow says.

  Elliott seconds. “I agree.”

  “Of course you do, you always agree with her!” Billy jabs.

  “Do not!” Elliott argues.

  “No, dude, you actually do.” Lawson smiles and his delivery lightens the foul mood enough that even I’m laughing.

  Willow clears her throat. “Morgan, you’re capable of making your own decisions. Know that you are welcome, if you choose to join us.” Willow’s eyes circle around the group. “Good luck, everyone.”

  26. Dear God, you’re rambling like Jackson

  When we’ve landed back on Earth, Lawson confirms that his head feels about as good as mine. Through the dull throbbing, we try to come up with ideas for how to resurrect our blocking ability while Meggie and Brody clean up the kitchen from dinner. Our conversation doesn’t go very far because the only things we can think of are more coding and practice, neither of which have helped so far. This is bad news because tomorrow Meggie and Brody are both going to have a tough day. At least Brody has the day off work.

  I turn my attention to Maggie when she tells Brody she’s been thinking about going back to work herself. She’s planning on calling the hospital in the morning to see about picking up a few part-time shifts.

  Remembering Meggie at the hospital nursery holding the newborns raises my spirits. I’m up for anything that may help her get through this horrible time in her life. “That’ll be good. She’s a sucker for babies.”

  Sitting on the counter, Lawson crosses his legs and messes with an unraveled string from his shoelace. “You’d think a job like that would be tough for her, considering what she’s lost.”

  “I would have thought the same thing, but you should have seen her the day she visited the nursery. She seemed almost happy.” I pause. “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

  “I guess we can only hope that their kids show up. We’re surely going to be worthless.”

  I nod and watch Meggie scrub a pan. She and Brody are now as silent as Lawson and me. At least none of us are crying. That’s a big win.

  After the kitchen is clean, Brody turns on the sports channel and Meggie gets on the computer to pay a few bills. They both give in to sleep around nine-thirty and the night, thankfully, is relatively nightmare free.

  The next morning, Meggie calls the hospital while Brody makes omelets. She shares the phone conversation with Brody while she picks at her eggs. Meggie’s manager has been understanding about Meggie’s schedule and will welcome Meggie back whenever she is ready. Brody and she discuss this for a while and Meggie decides she’ll work on the same days Brody is working.

  “We may as well share the same shifts,” Meggie is saying, “seeing as we no longer have to worry about daycare.” After the words are out, her face contorts in horror.

  “Oh, no,” Lawson whispers.

  Tears spill down Meggie’s cheeks and Brody grabs for her hand. Meggie pulls away hard enough to bump her drink, which results in the trill of breaking glass.

  Brody scoots his chair out. “It’s OK, Meg, I got it.”

  “It’s not OK! Nothing will ever be OK!”

  “Haze,” I say out of habit and instantly regret the order.

  Through the pounding in my head, my expression is pleading. Lawson, however, has no help to offer.

  Meggie continues to escalate and I continue to panic.

  “Lawson, what do I do?”

  Lawson covers his face with his hands, making small circles with his fingertips on his forehead. My eyes burn into him, wishing he had an answer that would fix this mess.

  “Mom?” The higher pitched voice carries over the chaos.

  Meggie freezes at the same time Brody pauses over the glass fragments. Lawson lowers his hands to see the two girls and guy that I’m seeing.

  “Mom,” the short-haired girl says again. “It’s OK.”

  Meggie’s breathing slows and more tears fall from her eyes as she stands frozen by the table.

  “We all love you, Mom. We miss you so much, but you have to stay strong.” Almost a head taller than his mom now, Josh bends down to put his face close to Meggie’s after his arms ghost through her shoulders once.

  A loud, single sob escapes from Meggie.

  “Do you feel that?” she whispers, prompting Brody to stand. “I can feel them.”

  “Mom, we’re right here.” With similar difficulty to what Josh had, the long-haired girl’s hand slips through Meggie’s upper arm.

  Her twin lifts her hand so that it rests inside Brody’s hand, and Brody looks down at his daughter, though there’s no way he could really be seeing her. “The kids?”

  “I can feel them,” Meggie repeats and takes a long breath.

  Brody walks around the glass to get to Meggie with the short-haired girl close by his side. The girl steps back when Brody wraps his arms around his wife. Josh and the long-haired girl stand close to their mom and dad, seeming pleased by their parents’ embrace.

  “The family is together again.” I don’t mean to say this out loud.

  “And it’s working,” Lawson whispers.

  “Josh, can you hear me?” Lawson asks.

  Josh doesn’t turn away from his parents, but nods.

&n
bsp; “Did Jonathan send you?” is Lawson’s next question.

  Josh finally speaks. “Who are you?”

  I don’t know what to say, so it’s Lawson that speaks first. “We’re Satellites. We were sent here to watch over your parents after your deaths.”

  Josh steps towards me. “Then why aren’t you doing that?”

  “Josh!” the short-haired girl hisses.

  “Something happened. We’re usually much better than this,” Lawson assures.

  “Why can’t they watch over their parents?” my voice says before I can stop myself. “Don’t give me that look!” I say to Lawson. “Seriously, consider what they’ve done in just a few short minutes compared to what we’ve done, and we’ve been here for months!”

  Lawson uses a low voice like the others won’t hear him. “Because that’s not the way it works.”

  “But it could.” I pause. “I mean, why couldn’t it?

  “That’s not their purpose.”

  I turn back to Meggie’s kids, though they are now grown adults. “What’s your purpose?”

  The girl with the long hair answers first. “I’m a Tocket Hunter.”

  Josh doesn’t take his eyes off Meggie. “I’m a Guardian.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  With some effort, he finally turns away from his mom. “I intervene before bad things happen. Kids getting pummeled by baseballs or semi-trucks, that sort of thing.”

  “Huh,” is my only response. Willow said everyone has a purpose, but I had never put much thought into other departments. “Where do you live?”

  “In Progression.”

  Confused, I defer to Lawson.

  “Progression houses the departments in different wings,” he explains.

  “No way,” I mumble. “That would mean Progression holds hundreds of thousands of people.”

  Lawson agrees like this is no big deal.

  Forcing my mind off the mere size of Progression, I ask the short-haired girl, “What do you do?”

  “I’m a Scheduler.”

  My eyes about bounce off the linoleum. Even Lawson can’t hide his shock.

  “Er, a Scheduler-in-training I guess is more appropriate.”

  Lawson shock turns to awe. “You’ve landed a heck of a job. What’s it like?”

  “There’s a lot of research involved: studying family histories, relational interconnections, that sort of thing. Recently, I’ve been learning the stages of grief.” Her expression turns to sadness, but then lifts. “I’m having a problem with the guess work involved in planning someone’s life. The other Schedulers tell me this will become easier through the years. I’m Sophie, by the way.” She crosses to me and shakes my hand, then moves to Lawson for another formal introduction.

  Josh and Harper follow her lead. I drill into my head which twin is which, Harper with the long hair, Sophie with the short hair. Harper Long Hair, Sophie Short Hair…I repeat in my head to remember for the future.

  “Did you all lose your memories as well?” Lawson asks.

  “We’re supposed to.”

  “Supposed to?” I ask Josh.

  “Someone had to pull a few strings for us to be here.” He pauses and his voice gets quiet, “We wouldn’t do much good if we didn’t remember our parents.”

  “So you have your memories still?”

  Sophie Short Hair taps on her forehead. “All there. They were gone for awhile, until we went through Programming.”

  “Sophie!” Harper Long Hair gives her sister the shut up look.

  “Has having your memories affected your jobs?” I ask to no one in particular.

  Lawson shifts his position on the countertop, straightening his broad shoulders. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  Irritated by all this hush-hush crap, I can’t keep my mouth closed. “Why not?”

  Lawson hops off the counter and hits my shoulder when he walks by me. “A word?”

  “Have you not learned anything?” he hisses in my face when we’re in the living room.

  “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with a little curiosity. What’s with this place, anyway? No one questions anything. We just go about our business because that’s the way things are? I’m sorry, but I don’t like the way things are. Why does it have to be this way for Meggie and Brody?”

  Lawson appears to be trying hard not to roll his eyes.

  “Those kids shouldn’t be dead!”

  “This isn’t just about their purpose, it’s about Meggie and Brody’s purpose, too. Don’t forget that. You can’t change the way things are written. Nothing ever changes, so you just need to go with it.”

  I chew on my lip and my anger is apparent to Lawson.

  “Come on, man, this is our job.”

  “We’re worthless here! Those kids have done more good for Meggie and Brody than we’ve been able to do in months. What does that tell you about our job?”

  “It is what it is.”

  “It doesn’t have to be!” I say this to Lawson’s back as he’s walking through the kitchen doorway. He doesn’t even pause, which infuriates me more.

  The adult kids stay close to Meggie and Brody for the rest of the afternoon and I keep my questions to myself because none of the answers are satisfying. Lawson and I continue to play the silent treatment game since we seem to be so good at it.

  When it’s time to go, I blurt out the question that’s been stuck in my mind for an hour. “If you had a choice, would you choose to be dead?”

  Josh, Sophie, and Harper exchange a look that says they’re considering whether or not they should answer. Lawson rolls his eyes.

  Josh bites. “My work as a Guardian has been cool and I’m excited to learn more,” he pauses, “but, no. I would never choose this for my parents. I want to help them.” He turns to Meggie and Brody, frozen on the couch with Meggie’s head resting on Brody’s shoulder. “I hope we can continue to help them.”

  After the three of them say goodbye to their parents-turned-mannequins, Josh disappears into the kitchen. When he comes back a few seconds later, the palm of his right hand is just under his nose and he’s concentrating comically hard. When he reaches the coffee table, he lowers his hand, turns his wrist, and something small drops from his palm with a clink. Then he grabs Sophie and Harper’s hands and the three of them whisper the magic traveling word that makes them disappear into the ceiling.

  I raise my eyebrows at Lawson on my way to the table. There, in front of Meggie on the dark wood, Josh has left a penny, heads up. I displace before Lawson can notice the tears stinging my eyes.

  Above me in the clear sky, three bright yellow streaks are close together and moving upward like rockets. All around me, as far as I can see, are the colorful trails of other Satellites, including the two closest to me, Whitfield and Elliott.

  After landing in my room, I bypass the coffee maker and head straight to the Y hall. Willow, Elliott, Anna, and Owen are already waiting. Liam and Evelynn come in behind me, followed by Lawson, Jackson, Clara, and Reed.

  “Morgan’s a no show, huh?” Reed says.

  “I’m here!” Morgan hollers from down the hall, walking with Rigby.

  “Should have stayed away,” Billy says from behind her. Everyone ignores him, Morgan included.

  “Looks like we all made it,” Willow starts. “How did your assignments go?”

  Mumbles and groans confirm that the other Elites had the same bad luck with blocking.

  “The kids were back today,” I tell Willow.

  Lawson clears his throat. “Jonathan sent them again.”

  Willow ties her yarn-like hair into a ponytail. “Did they tell you that?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Willow’s skepticism prompts Lawson to go on. “I know you’re not the biggest Jonathan fan right now, but who else would have done it?”

  Willow ignores the first part of Lawson’s statement. “Did they help?”

 
I step back to let Morgan into the haphazard circle we’ve created. “In two visits they’ve helped Meggie more than I have since I started her assignment. That house fire was a mistake, Willow.” My voice rises. “They shouldn’t have died.”

  Clara’s voice has an edge like mine. “My Tragedy should have never lost her brother. Nor the one before who lost his son…but car accidents happen, right? And then there’s Sarah who lost her six year old and Janet who lost her husband a month after she miscarried. You want me to go on? I’m sure whatever purpose they had could have waited.”

  Anna steps forward. “Umm, should we be sharing all these details about our assignments?”

  Billy takes a step closer into the circle. “Jonathan didn’t care when he shared Grant’s sob story with us. Besides, what’s it matter now? I can’t block for anything, so I figure my days are numbered.”

  Willow rolls her eyes. “Your days aren’t numbered, Billy. Quit being such a drama queen. I’ll agree, though, what difference does it make if we know details about each other’s assignments? I, for one, would have loved to know that Grant was my son’s Satellite.”

  Boy, does Willow know how to silence a room.

  She grins and shakes her head. “That’s right, Grant watched over Ryder when Troy died. He didn’t do too bad, either, though I’ll admit, I’m relieved that was before he lost his ability.” Her carefree expression goes away. “When I think about Ryder, it worries me that none of the Elites can block.”

  “Willow, I’m ready to fight.”

  “Pardon?” I think she’s about to laugh at me.

  “We should fight for Josh, Sophie, and Harper. They should be with Meggie and Brody. They can help her better than we can. Lawson can back me on this.”

  Lawson steps in. “I told him it doesn’t matter, things aren’t done that way around here.”

  “Lawson’s right,” Owen agrees.

  “Why? We could change things,” I argue.

  Willow crosses her arms. “It’s just the way it is, kid. There are reasons beyond what we know. I realize you don’t think the children’s deaths were justified, but it was necessary, if not for the kids, then for Meggie and Brody. There’s a reason Meggie and Brody are going through this, whether it’s because they will make a difference in the world or a difference in the life of someone who is destined for big things. Regardless, I refuse to believe people die for nothing.” Willow focuses on the dark marble floor. “We have to have faith in the system.”