Evvie lies sleeping with her back to me while I tactically dress. I was more invested in her sleep last night, and was able to reason with her that she should accept the bed. I did fare a couple of hours of shuteye last night, but I had hoped for more. My legs burn as I bend down to pull on my socks. Running the way I did yesterday morning was brutal on them with as little sleep as I had then. I’m glad our focus today is on talking and not running. I need the rest.
I’m glad to see that my sister was able to sleep. I must have given her a fair amount of assurance for her to calm enough to do so. I sit on the edge of my bed and nudge Evvie. Her sleep has presumably been light; she wakes very easily. My pointer crosses my lips to remind her that we’re making no sounds this morning. I have an uneasy feeling of foreboding and a discomforting sensation that we’re being watched. On paper, we still possess the unalienable right of freedom of speech, but there’s far too much paranoia in that right for it to be believed. Speech is only free through the costly risk of crossing the barrier to anywhere but here.
I point to the clothes that I set out for Evvie last night. Then I signify the bathroom across the slender hallway. She nods. Finally, I point to myself and then direct my finger to point to the kitchenette where I want her to meet me when she’s ready. To be safe, I also point to our short stack of tablets on the nightstand. My hands and head move in tandem, explaining that these tools should not be used. Evvie pulls off her covers and grabs the clothing anxiously.
I spread a peanut butter and protein-fused paste onto two pieces of wheat toast. I decide to go ahead and eat my piece rather than wait for Evvie. She tiptoes out of the bathroom just as I finish washing down the dry toast with orange juice.
Evvie is dressed similarly to me. She wears dark colored, lightweight wicking material. The discernable difference between the two of us is the uncertainty Evvie’s eyes hold compared with the confidence in mine. When I’m gearing up to go across the limits of Miles County, I fill with adrenaline and endorphins that leave me looking wide-eyed and alert. Evvie looks this way too, but out of doubt and worry.
I indicate her piece of toast sitting on a paper towel. It lies in front of the place I have assigned to Evvie. It’s nice to have someone occupy that stool. Despite the qualms she may have, Evvie musters a healthy appetite this morning, which pleases me. I don’t want to scold her into eating like last night.
I head into the bathroom to grab another hair tie. Evvie’s hair is much longer than mine, and I don’t want to risk that the camera discover it. I chunk Evvie’s ponytail into three sections and begin weaving them around each other as she chews. My grandma taught me how to braid. I used to do this for my sister all the time when she was still a little girl, but she stopped wearing them after our grandma died. I wonder if she’s thinking about grandma right now too.
Evvie quickly finishes her orange juice to meet me at the doorway where I am lacing up my runners. Merideth bought Evvie a sophisticated pair of tennis shoes that she doesn’t need to lace. They were molded to fit her foot exactly so they don’t need a tongue or laces like mine. They have spits of elastic here and there for give, and a tiny, pliable zipper that opens at the inside of both of her heels.
This is it. We’re ready.
I hop onto the ledge of the window at the end of the hall and hide our key. We are out of the back door of the building without a sound louder then the crunch of our toasted breakfast.
Our jog to the EPA building is about half my usual pace. Evvie seems a little confused by this. I know she would be able to keep up just fine, but I don’t want to risk her twisting an ankle. I can’t chance that anything could prevent our necessary task.
The extra time the dawdling trot allows begins to aggravate me too as I get closer to finding out what is wrong. My feet pick up pace without my permission, and I have to pull them in frequently. My anxiety is considerable as well. I want this all over with as badly as Evvie does.
When we arrive at EPA 7-8, I slink up quietly as usual, but more slowly, exaggerating each of my grips and footholds to Evvie below. I’m careful to communicate the importance of the timing under the camera protruding from the top of the building. It took her a few attempts to reach the ceiling tile above the window yesterday, but I offered her no help then. This morning, I help to hoist Evvie atop the building when the timing is right.
I lay on my stomach once both of us are on top of the building. Without my direction, Evvie does the same. I point out the large pond below us, and watch as Evvie peers into the darkness to see it. She looks at me and nods, but her eyes ask, ‘How do we get there?’
The middle and pointer fingers on my right hand transform into the legs of a miniature demo man. The little finger man starts at the ledge and runs towards our chins, my lips counting off each of his steps. His pointer leg scrapes a mark into the ground like an anxious bull before a fight. I assume Evvie will know how to find her mark after taking up long jump in track. I’m glad she listened to me.
I turn my left hand into a circular pond and float it over the top of the camera that rotates beneath. The little finger man runs from his mark, jumps, and soars toward the pool of water.
Evvie tugs at my shoulder but I’m not finished explaining the important parts. I hope her protestation is due to burning questions and not severe reservations about the risky jump. Without words, I silence her uneasiness, directing her to keep watching and learning before she questions me or protests anything.
I put the little finger man back below the surface of the water where he was destined to splash before Evvie pulled at me. Deliberately, I mouth the words one, two, three, four, and so on, eyeing the camera before us. I feel Evvie’s gaze turn from my lips to this ominous threat. I make the little finger man surface once the camera is beyond being able to catch him.
The man returns to being the strong, precise fingers on my right hand, another noble position. My sister’s eyes lock onto mine, professing their trust in me. I indicate to Evvie that I will jump first so that I can help her with her timing. Even if the timing game weren’t such a fragile and exacting exercise, I would need to jump first to instill in her the confidence to take the plunge. I’ll be there to guide her through the rest of our escape; all I need my sister to do is conjure enough bravery to follow me.
I wrap my arm around Evvie’s shoulders and give her a squeeze before I hop to my feet. I typically just eyeball where to begin my sprint, as I can make it into an adequate depth comfortably, but today I mark my strides for Evvie’s sake. I need to place in her every ounce of confidence that I can for her first jump. The anxiety that she has been suffering is clearly great, but I doubt it matches the sheer desperation that propelled my jump two years ago.
I take the twisted, elastic headband out of my hair and set it where the toes of Evvie’s right foot hit for the fifth time. She couldn’t make fifteen and a half feet in a pit with only ten strides to her usual sixteen or more, but our runway makes up for the space it lacks with its elevation. With that, it’s my hope that she can make seventeen feet, enough distance to clear the barrier and splash a safe depth into the water.
I instruct Evvie to wrap my headband around her wrist before she jumps. I don’t want to leave any traces of us behind. I toe-up to my invisible mark about a half step behind her and ready myself for the jump. My left foot drops back and balances me as my shoulders lower. I bend my knees and rock back on the heel of my dominant foot. The rock comes full swing and I exhale. The rock backward is faster the second time as I prepare to drive my shoulders forward.
Evvie is suddenly in front of me, holding me back and vehemently shaking her head from side to side. Either something is not right about my stance to her trained eye or she’s not ready to make the jump yet. I never did let her question my directions or protest my expectations. I stand up straight and raise each of my arms from my sides with a shrug of irritation.
She points her brows and answers me by silently running her little finger man to the end of
her left palm. Only at the end of her fingertips, the unfortunate man trips or takes an extra step after the ledge and falls off the roof. The building is a little higher than a standard story, meaning the finger man might break a knuckle, but the chances of death, paralysis, or something else severe are pretty slim from this isolated height.
The real problem lies with falling into, rather than soaring through, the barrier. That’s why it’s important that we are high above the underground wire and zinging quickly through the air while we pass over it. An object in motion stays in motion even as it sustains electric shocks. But a tentative sister who falls in the void would be faced with the impossibility of removing her shuddering body from the area of high-voltage shocks. I would probably instinctively enter the barrier, knowing that if I did I would not make it out either. Tripping before the ledge or scratching past it is simply not an option.
I take both of Evvie’s hands in mine and look deep into her eyes. Her pupils engulf her irises in the dark and in her anxious state. I mouth, ‘You’ll be fine’ and ‘Trust me’. I can’t let her see that saying the words to her doesn’t reassure me any. All of this seemed like it had to be done up until a moment ago when she demonstrated the little finger man falling into the barrier. I was willing to risk a minor injury to Evvie and even being caught and losing her to the government because she made it clear that her secret, whatever it is, is worthy of those risks. But no piece of information or revelation of a threat is worth losing Evvie for good. I couldn’t handle that. I’m powerless to death.
Abruptly, I decide this can’t be done. There has to be another way. I turn back toward Evvie, but see that she has followed my original order to trust me. I can’t see her eyes from here, but somehow I can feel the intensity of her fearlessness and focus. This does have to be done and it can be. It’s the only way I know, and now my sister is ready.
I check the camera and back up quickly, counting. I sprint and launch myself, raising my arms as I pass through the barrier. The loud thud into the pond starts a relentless ringing in my ears. As I allow time for the waters to quiet, I try to compose my new fears and trust that Evvie will make it beside me.
After counting sufficient time for the camera to pass, I pop up to signal for Evvie to go. Already, the whites of her shoes are making the last, tightened stride as she reaches the edge of solid ground. I’m relieved as I watch her glide from the edge, but it’s too late when I realize I’ve watched her too long. Without inhaling, I dive below the surface, frantically trying to move away from Evvie’s landing space.
I miscalculated my sister’s jumping ability with her reduced runway and speed. I should have moved to the side to be safe, but in panic I tried to move back toward the opposite bank by the forest. Evvie’s feet-first landing jabs deep into my rib cage. The blow causes me to gasp and cold water penetrates my lungs.
I surface for a microsecond to expel some of the water. I take one breath between the coughs, but the water that on its way out taints the air I breathe in. Underwater, my mind searches for the math behind whether I was quick enough for the camera to miss me while my chest, throat, and nose burn with the misplaced fluids. I fight the urge to resurface, as I know it is now crucial to let the water settle and plane. I’m tempted to quicken the seconds I count. The desire to breathe clear air simply can’t go unsatisfied.
Finally, I burst from underwater, coughing and gagging. With a great deal of pain, I am able to obtain the air that my lungs so desperately needed. I yank Evvie up from underwater. She’s barely above the surface and already she’s fretting. “Are you okay?”
“Time to go!” I command. Evvie’s eyes dance as she wonders where she is supposed to go. I take another sweet breath and pull her shoulders under. I find Evvie’s arm underwater, and pull her deeper below the surface. The tops of submerged aquatic plants tickle our faces for a moment as we slowly creep into the depths. Fifteen seconds after we submerged, we resurface in the center of the holding pond where our toes don’t quite stir up the mucky decay in the lowest layer of stratification.
I breathlessly rattle off our next step. “One more swim. Next time we’re up, we run behind that tree.” I point out the wide trunk of a larch ahead. “Back down,” I expel before I inhale another breath to soothe my still-burning throat and nostrils. I let go of her hand so that the two of us can glide smoothly and gain more distance.
Sunken against the steep pond margin opposite EPA 7-8, I count down to the final second. Two. One. I break out of the water and make a run for the tree, noting the roar of Evvie’s surfacing and her catching footsteps behind me.
“I call this the timing game,” I manage, a bit out of breath and still trying to cough away the burning sensation. “We’ll do this until there’s enough cover not to have to worry about the camera spotting us anymore.” We breathe for a few moments. “Now!” I say as I dart from the tree, sprinting toward another.
“Twice more. We need to split on this one,” I tell her. “There’s a tree just left of the one I’m going to run to. See it?” I ask as I point ahead.
“I think so,” Evvie lies. All she sees ahead are trees too thin to adequately block us from the camera’s view.
“You’ll know,” I assure her. “Okay!”
We both make it behind our trees without the camera coming close to spotting us in sprint. This time, we remain hidden by facing each other instead of the vast expanse of forested valleys ahead.
One more seven-second sprint and I’ll know why we’re out here. On this last dash, I run without instructing Evvie. Still, she’s less than two steps behind me when we’re a safe distance from the eye of Miles.
“I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Where did I kick you?” The words flood from my sorrowful sister.
“I’m fine. And you don’t have to be sorry—it was my fault for being in the way. How about we sit, little sister,” I chuckle, plummeting to the plush grass and letting my chest rise and fall easily for a bit. It’s so fresh and perfect, but neither of us can focus on that right now.
The last breath I take before I sit up is a nervous one. “Okay, Evvie, what’s going on?”
Evvie cautiously sits beside me. She swallows hard to lubricate her confession. Still fretful, she looks over each shoulder, one hand trembling as she scratches the other one.
The image of her entering the courtroom yesterday cuts into my mind. Whatever she is about to tell me is what caused her such fear. I rub the shoulder that she scratches, and take her hands in mine. She pulls away from the empty forest behind her and looks to me. I nod to let her know that it is okay to tell me now. Our words are safe here. With my encouragement, my sister’s tremors subside and she whispers, “I think our mom is alive.”
Concealed in the Shadows Page 8