Days of Fury

by B. J. Castillo

  “Do you feel good, Eve?” He had asked.

  She nodded.

  Caleb did not seem convinced.

  “I can go for the doctor if...”

  “No,” she said. “I'm fine, Caleb. I just had a bad night.” —At least that part was true.

  “I thought we could appear together in the dining room,” he said, “for breakfast.”

  “I'm not hungry.”

  Silence.

  “Are you sure you are alright?”

  Eve shook her head. She turned away, turning her back on Caleb, and pulled herself up on her quilt.

  Then it was Dawit's turn. He stuck his head out the door, smiling, and then entered completely, carrying in his hands a brass tray with the breakfast Evelyn had missed. Dawit left it on the comber. Eve scrutinized him with her eyes at all times, and all she managed to do was frighten him. The next visit was unexpected.

  “We're asking what's wrong with you,” she heard Becca say, standing by the door with her arms folded across her chest. Her voice distilled acid. What was she painting there? Evelyn wondered. It was obvious from the first moment that she did not like her, and the feeling was mutual. “You did not show up at breakfast. And from what I see, you’ll also miss lunch.”

  “And do you care?” Eve murmured.

  “What?” Becca straightened and uncrossed her arms.

  “Do you mind if I miss meals?”

  “Do not.”

  Becca didn’t know many things, despite the time she had been in the Agency, and among those things was the true origin of Tadhg and what he really felt for her. It was inevitable for Evelyn to feel compassion for Becca. After all, they were in the same position as the other: deceived and used.

  “Good,” Eve said dryly. “Then, go away.”

  Becca stiffened, twisted her lips and left with ease and anger, as only she could; and rammed the door.

  Half an hour later, they knocked on the door again.

  “It's me, Evelyn,” Claire said from the other side. “I can enter?”

  Evelyn straightened. Surely it gave a painful image, there, with her face numb, her hair curled, and half naked under the sheets.

  “Yes,” she said in a brittle voice. She cleared her throat and repeated loudly, “Yes.”

  Claire came in as a shy child: first she poked her head out, smiled a withdrawn smile, then passed and closed the door. She remained quiet in her place. Eve looked down. She heard Claire's footsteps approaching her, but she didn’t dare to look up. The doctor sat on the bed next to her.

  “Evelyn,” she said, touched. “Evelyn.” She extended her hand to gently take the girl’s chin to catch her gaze. Eve had tears in her eyes, swallowed a breath of air to keep from collapsing. “What's wrong, dear?”

  Evelyn noticed the woman's eyes. They were huge, loaded with tenderness, lenitive.

  “Nothing happens,” she lied deliberately.

  Claire looked at her with a frown; then, she let out a light laugh like a sigh.

  Eve blinked, perplexed.

  “I'm sorry, Evelyn,” Claire said. “I shouldn’t laugh. But they never lied to me with such impudence. I understand you do not want to talk, but we both know that something does happen and it's obvious.” She looked her up and down. “Look. If you don’t want to talk now, that's fine, but I want you to know that I'm here to listen to you.” She took Eve's hands tenderly. “It is not good to be isolated or not to eat,” she continued. “Women tend to carry the burden of the world on their shoulders, and the weight is overwhelming. We accept it... or rather, we learn to live with it as if it were the most normal thing.” She shook his head and smiled. “What I try to tell you is that among women we can support each other.”

  Evelyn looked up and sketched a fevered smile like an autumn leaf.

  “Thank you.”

  Claire sighed.

  “And good?” She asked, raising an eyebrow with a funny gesture and sighed again. “I thought that my speech would persuade you to tell me what happens.”

  Evelyn was not sure whether to tell her what she knew or not, because, possibly, Claire also did not know what she knew.

  “I'm fine,” Evelyn began, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “The truth is that I am a little overwhelmed with everything that has happened. Yesterday was a day full of strong emotions, and I feel exhausted. That's all, I assure you.” She pulled another smile. “Tomorrow I will be better.”

  Claire stared at her as if trying to decipher the legitimacy of her words.

  “Good,” she said at last. Evelyn wondered if she had believed her or not, because the doctor's inscrutable gesture gave a lot to say. “Then tomorrow you will be better, and today will be a long day.” She stood up and walked slowly toward the door.

  “There's something he can do for me,” Evelyn snapped, so unexpected even for her.

  Claire stopped before turning the knob, the back of her doctor's robe also stopped moving, and she turned around, some steps toward Evelyn and smiled. She sat on the bed and took the girl's hands in hers, again, with motherly affection. Eve had lost her mother a long time ago, so she supposed that this was how she felt when she was comforted by her mother.

  She looked up, shy. Claire watched her closely.

  “I'll do what I can, Evelyn,” she said. “You only have to say it.”

  * * *

  She got up, bathed, and dressed in the simplest garments she found in her wardrobe, which Rhys had chosen. She combed her hair. Then, when she had finished grooming, she left her room again and went to the training room. There she found Tadhg. The future agent was sitting on one of the benches that clung to the wall of mirrors. He looked up as the door closed behind Evelyn.

  “The doctor said you were weird today," she said neutrally as Eve approached. “Becca and Dawit said the same thing. You did not have breakfast with us this morning, and that boy, Caleb, has been sorry all day for you. He thinks he did something yesterday that has made you feel bad...”

  Evelyn was twenty paces from Tadhg when she stopped and took a deep breath.

  “Rhys has asked for you,” he continued. “She always cares for everyone. And Claire told me you wanted to talk to me. No...” He stopped and looked at Eve with troubled eyes. “What's going on?”

  Evelyn thought carefully her first words.

  “What's your name?” She asked.

  Tadhg frowned.

  “You already know, right?” He laughed before adding, “My name is Tadhg.”

  “No,” Evelyn cut him off. “That is the nickname that they put you in the Agency, they have already explained it to me; but your true name I do not know yet.” She cocked her head. “I still don’t know your real name or that of Rhys, Dawit or Juno. Why?”

  The smile faded from Tadhg's lips.

  “You know the laws,” she said dryly. “The Laws of the Agency prohibit...”

  “Why would they forbid that your real name be known?” She interrupted him. “How important is it?”

  “It's important because…”

  “Why?”

  They looked at each other. Finally, Tadhg looked down as if he had given up.

  “It was not the Agency,” Tadhg said quietly after a minute of silence.

  “What?” Eve was still planted before him like a rock.

  “It was not the Agency,” he repeated. He stood up, letting out his breath with an impetus and looked at her face, “the one that gave me the nickname. I told you the first night: That was the nickname that my grandfather put me,” he said as he put his hand in the pocket and took out a card.

  It was not a card, it was his credential. The false credential he had obtained thanks to Pellet. He extended it to Evelyn, who hesitated a bit before taking it and examining its contents.

  NAME: Taddeus Caleb Goodbrother

  BIRTH DATE: 09-24-1994

  GENDER: Male

  ...

  “Taddeus,” Evelyn thought,
stunned. “Like my father.” She looked up.

  “The date of birth is not real, of course,” said Tadhg, who was contemplating her with glassy eyes and a calm gesture; it was evident that he was trying to pretend that he was not affected by revealing his true identity. Evelyn almost felt that she knew him; almost. “But the rest is. My name is Taddeus. The rest... Well, you'll draw your own conclusions.”

  Evelyn took a few seconds to react. She still had Tadhg's credential in her hand, which, incredibly, didn’t shake her. Her heart beat with frenzy. She looked at Tadhg. She looked at his features: the pronounced lips, the imposing cheeks, the square jaw and the small nose, all were inheritance of Evelyn's father; even his voice, grave and indented, that she had compared to her father the first night. And then she noticed his eyes: that trait belonged to him. His eyes were blue and deep, like ponds, like those of Evelyn herself.

  Evelyn was shocked. She extended a hand towards Tadhg, towards her face, and caressed it at the height of his chin as if examining a strange specimen that was believed to be extinct. Tadhg swallowed hard; she heard him do it. His chest swelled agitatedly as Evelyn more traveled and more saw him. Suddenly the man she had met a few days ago vanished before her eyes, and a child emerged. Evelyn did not want to look stupid, so she put aside that feeling that would take a few more years to arrive: maternal feeling.

  She pulled away from Tadhg, hesitating, and looked down. Tadhg did the same. He released his breath again as if he had held it all this time.

  “Rhys is also...” she began.

  “Yes.” He rasped before adding, “Rhys could barely control her emotions when he saw you.”

  Evelyn remembered her.

  “I realized, yes.” She frowned. “But when?”

  Tadhg shrugged and pouted.

  “They will go some years, I think.” He was not comfortable talking about that. “For now it's the only thing I can tell you.”

  Eve could not contain herself.

  “Dawit,” she asked. “Whose son is Dawit?”

  Tadhg shook his head.

  “Come on, tell me,” she insisted.

  Tadhg sighed.

  “You're insufferable, right?”

  “They told me before,” she said as she returned the credential to Tadhg.

  “Who do you think Dawit looks like?” asked this one.

  Evelyn mused. Nobody could think of it, but she reviewed something the boy told her a few days ago. He mentioned something about his sister that he did not finish saying, but before he said something else. Our parents are good friends,” were his words.

  “It is not possible,” Eve exclaimed, stunned. “Tabita?”

  Tadhg nodded smiling.

  “And Juno is the granddaughter of Professor Kerr and Claire,” he added.

  “I did not even know they had children,” Evelyn commented. “And do you know that she...?”

  “Kerr knows everything about us,” Tadhg said harshly. He saved his credential and squared his shoulders. “Claire... Well, she's very smart, and I'm sure she reserves her suspicions.”

  And there the matter was settled. Tadhg went back to being as usual, or that appealed. Evelyn, although shocked, preferred to leave the matter over for not playing with luck. They did not waste the moment or the place where they were. Tadhg, implacable, imposed new exercises on Evelyn. Some abs and push-ups later, and everything had returned to normal... Well, not everything.

  * * *

  “Eve, is it you?” Rhys was lying down when Evelyn walked into the clinic. At first she thought she was asleep, but clearly not. And she was waiting for her.

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “Tadhg said you would come. Come closer.”

  Evelyn obeyed. The closer she got, Rhys was taking a more upright posture. She sat on the bed and smiled a smile as white and radiant as the corridors of the Agency. Eve was nervous. It was her first encounter with Rhys after the events at the hospital... and after the newly discovered.

  “Tadhg told me you already know the truth,” said the girl; her face was more lucid: her cheeks were faintly rosy, her lips had a soft pinkish color and under her eyes there was no fear of the huge dark circles that had seen her before. Rhys was beautiful. Renata, Caleb's mother, looked a lot like her; the same blond hair, the same cheekbones, the lips and the long neck. “You know how important you are to us.”

  Suddenly everything made sense to Evelyn, more than before. "Take care of her," Rhys had told Tadhg at Edom's entrance.

  “I've waited for these years to see you again,” Rhys continued. “At least a younger version of you.” She smiled laughingly. “Also from my father, but more from you. They say that I am equal to Grandma Renata, but that you and I have other points in common...”

  “Caleb,” Eve said, absorbed.

  “I suppose you want to tell him?”

  Evelyn stared at her. —Wanted to?

  “No,” she said. “Caleb... He doesn’t even know that we will be husbands, much less that we will have two children. No, he shouldn’t know. And I should not have heard the conversation between Tadhg and you either, it was a terrible idea...”

  “Two?” Rhys asked, a slight smile on his lips.

  Evelyn frowned.

  “I suppose Tadhg did not mention Rob, our big brother.

  No, of course he had not mentioned him.

  Evelyn looked down, absorbed.

  “Rob is the director of the Agency,” Rhys continued. “He would also be happy to see you now, young and beautiful.”

  “Am I the opposite in the future?” Evelyn snapped, staring at Rhys. “I’ll be a bitter and ugly old woman?”

  “No,” Rhys laughed. “You have always been very beautiful and furious, gorgeous as a rose covered with thorns to the petals.” She extended a hand to Eve, but Eve pulled away; it was just a reflection, she did not really want to do it. Rhys became serious and lowered her hand, slowly. “Do not be afraid, I just wanted to show you this...” She pointed to the necklace that she had given her a few days ago.

  Evelyn took it out carefully and handed it to her. Rhys admired the pendant in the center of her palm for a moment, then did something. Evelyn could not see what it was until Rhys handed her the collar back. Eve looked at it closely. It was not an ordinary pendant, it was a reliquary. Inside, had two very small photographs: one showed a woman holding a newborn baby in her arms, the other showed another woman with a blond-haired girl, who might be two years old, sitting on her lap posing for the photograph.

  Evelyn recognized the woman next to the fair-haired girl; it was about her, more adult and proud. The girl was Rhys, because she could also find her features in that round and angelic face. Eve looked up.

  “You said your mother gave it to you,” she said. “And that my mother gave it to me. But my mother...” She broke off.

  Rhys sighed.

  “I know,” she said. “I know grandma left you and grandpa when you were five years old. You told me the day you gave me the necklace, so I was fifteen.” She smiled with a distant look and full of bright stars as if she had evoked that memory.

  “Do you mean I'll see her again?” Evelyn asked.

  “Yes,” she answer. “You will see her. Someday you will decide to look for her, and you will find her. Then you will discover that she have formed a new family, that she have divorced your father without your participation and that she has married and had a couple of children. You will find yourself in the window admiring it but you will decide that you will never see her again.”

  “And the necklace...?”

  “Grandpa will deliver it to you when the divorce process is over,” Rhys explained patiently.

  Evelyn released her breath; her eyes were in tears. She closed her palm, with the reliquary inside, and stuck it to her chest. This time, when Rhys extends her hand to her, Evelyn did not move away. The girl touched her arm and then took her hand with genuine sweetness, and in the same way she watc
hed her when Evelyn looked up at her.

  “You are my heroine,” Rhys added. “Always. And you have also been very strong.”

  “I want to believe it...”

  “You know, deep down you know it.” Rhys smiled; her eyes were also wet. “Someday you will realize, I assure you.”

  * * *

  Evelyn left the clinic. It was a coincidence that she met Caleb, who left the lab after completing his lesson of the day with Professor Kerr. Eve tried not to look as nervous —as she actually felt— in front of him.

  “Do you feel better?” Caleb asked sweetly.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you would spend the whole day in your room.” He made a little noise before adding: “This afternoon, Becca has made a comment out of place about the moods of a girl when she goes through her period. I think she was talking about you.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  Evelyn giggled.

  “I do not have the period,” she said later.

  “But she did talk about you.”

  “Becca and I haven’t had the best relationship.” —“I'd like to see her face when she finds out I'm Tadhg's mother, and not one of his lovers,” she thought.

  “It's the same with me and Tadhg,” Caleb replied. “This afternoon it has also been announced that I will be an agent of the future, and he has not taken it well. Hates me.”

  “He does not hate you,” Eve said to herself. “You are his father.” She smiled and put her hand on Caleb's shoulder.

  “He doesn’t hate you,” she assured him.

  “Of course he do,” he insisted, and raised an eyebrow. “And I think I know what the reason is.” He stared at her.

  His insinuation was evident as misguided.

  “It isn’t what you think,” Eve explained; she took his hand off Caleb's shoulder and took a deep breath. “Tadhg and I have nothing; nothing, besides the gratitude I feel for him, because he’s the person who saved my life.”

  “You like?”

  “No.”

  The voice came out with such determination that she was surprised herself. Maybe yesterday she would have fluctuated a bit before responding.