by Jason Letts
“Why’d you get in the way like that? I guess you don’t put much stock in the phrase ‘good things come to those who wait’,” Jeana said while Kevin secured the food lying out in front of them.
“What are we doing, Mary?” Will softly asked her again.
“You’re right. We don’t have much time. Something’s going to happen, and once it does we’ll never be able to go back to the way things were. That’s why we have something we need to tell you,” she said, kneeling down next to them and pulling her reluctant companion down too.
Only with those words that seemed to flow so naturally did Mary realize she stood on the edge of a great precipice. There would be no leniency and no more mercy if they tried to escape, but it wouldn’t make a difference if holding back would bring them to the same end. Stone faced, Mira’s parents embodied the same skepticism and calculation they had grown to expect from others inside the camp.
“Leave us to our meal. A little peace is so hard to come by,” Kevin grumbled, turning his attention back to a small cooking fire. Mary reached out and grabbed his shirt to get his attention. He turned to fight and Jeana reached for her arm, but the heartfelt intensity of Mary’s words stayed them.
“Just listen to me for one moment. And please don’t forget. If something happens to us you’ll be the only ones who know. They have Clara. She’s chained in a cave near the top of the camp along the rock face. A shack covers it and they keep her in there drugged.”
“Mary,” Will implored, but she patted him away.
“That’s impossible,” Jeana said. “This is just another cruel joke of yours. They would’ve told us if such a thing existed.”
“You don’t believe me? You don’t care to find out if I’m right? That’s fine,” Mary pleaded. “But maybe someday you will. Maybe someday you’ll take off the blindfolds and realize where those with ill intentions have led you. They’ve made you forget about the one thing you cared about above all else, your family.”
Jeana and Kevin continued to scoff, unmoved by Mary’s entreaty or Will’s alarmed reaction. Looking about fearfully, Will scanned the area for anyone nearby.
“Don’t talk to us about family. Whoever thought we’d have more to rejoice in a daughter we never knew than one we sacrificed fifteen years for?” Kevin cracked.
“That’s the other thing. You have to forgive Mira. No, Will, relax. You have to forgive her. It was too much for her to bear, losing Yannick and the responsibility of being a leader and desperately wanting to find Clara. She didn’t spurn you because she doesn’t love you. It was the only way she could cope. Don’t hold it against her any more. She’s learned from it!”
“Someone’s coming,” Will said, getting to his feet and pulling Mary onto hers. Kevin and Jeana’s gloom and vexation came to the forefront of their faces.
“The day will come when you feel differently,” Mary continued while Will dragged her away. “Don’t forget what I said.”
Will pulled her by the arm around the side of a cabin just as a couple of forge workers started down the hill. Mary took a deep breath and tried to collect her thoughts. Exhaling was so hard it felt like her lungs were full of iron, and it didn’t help that Will had grown frustrated with her.
“What was that all about? You just told them everything, and I still know nothing. Not to mention you gave Gloria permission to do me in tomorrow,” he ranted.
“It’s because we’re not going to be here tomorrow. Now come on, we have to find Roselyn,” Mary demanded, taking a turn up the hill.
“What…what did you find out?” Will asked suddenly taken aback.
He jogged up the hill to catch her, and together they panned the upper reaches of the camp for their friend. They finally found her sitting against an empty bunkhouse drawing with a piece of charcoal. She held her empty palms out to them to signal the result of her berry search, but her spirits seemed better than they could’ve been all the same. Huddling down next to her, Mary took her hand.
“Now can you tell me?” Will asked, waiting on her words.
“OK, we’re getting out of here tonight. I’ve figured it all out. The explosions are just a lie they used to scare us. The only problem with just running now is the witch would know we’d be going, but we can get around that too. Her other eye is in her cabin, and that’s what she uses to keep track of all of her parts. We’ll take it in the night and be gone without anyone noticing till we’re out of the mountains!”
Roselyn’s mouth hung open a little, and Will lowered his head in relief. Putting her hand on his shoulder, Roselyn comforted him.
“That’s good news,” Will exhaled, but then he jerked his head. “But wait, are you really sure her power won’t cause any explosions? You’ve been wrong before.”
Mary felt herself getting defensive. She knew she still wasn’t perfect, but from what she felt it just couldn’t be any other way.
“You have to believe me. I know this one. There won’t be any more mistakes this time. Trust me.”
Roselyn nodded and squeezed Mary’s hand. Will looked persuaded too.
“So the only wall that’s kept us here has been a quick little lie? Let’s get out of here. Let’s finally do it. Even tonight seems too long to wait. So is all we need that eye in her cabin? Roselyn, can you make a drawing of it so we can think about how to get in there? It’ll be glorious if by this time tomorrow we’re somewhere far, far away.”
Instantly nodding, Roselyn turned over her the piece of fabric and started to sketch the exterior of the witch’s cabin. While her friends watched and waited, Will grabbed her other drawings and started to look over them. Flipping back and forth between the two images, one of Mira and Clara and the other of a faceless Arent locked between two pillars, Will shook his head with a lighthearted chuckle.
“You know, it’s funny. This one always makes me feel so angry and this one just gets me so excited,” he noted.
Roselyn stopped drawing to look up at him. Mary, confused, lowered her eyebrows.
“What?” she asked.
“Don’t you remember? We were so excited when Roselyn first told us she discovered Clara, and then we were angry when we realized Arent was going to power the ship,” Will explained, setting the drawings down. Mary immediately took them up and glared into them.
“Wait, why would it make us angry he was powering the ship himself? What difference does it make compared to everything else he’s done to us? Is it the memories making you feel that way or is it the drawings?” she asked.
Will put his hand to his chin and cogitated. The three of them exchanged puzzled glances and passed around the drawings.
“I’m not sure,” Will wondered, so reluctant to go on he leaned forward to hold onto the words. “Are we saying the drawings did this? Roselyn, you should make another drawing.”
The air seemed so dry and still for them in that moment. Mary felt their conversation nudging against something that was almost untouchable. So much was fragile and every crack seared with the deepest pain, but Mary took Will’s subtle insinuation and made it clear. Trying to clear her mind, she turned her attention to her speechless friend.
“Your gift is not gone, Roselyn. It’s just that you can’t express it through song. Why don’t you focus on this drawing just the same as you would your notes?”
Looking more than unusually pale, Roselyn wrapped her fingers around the charcoal. Her shaking hand made it difficult to hold it steady; the way she breathed seemed spastic and uneven. Dragging the black coal over the fabric, she drew the image of the cabin. Will and Mary watched her face as her eyelids hung lazily as if in a dreamy inner focus.
Moments later, she carefully set down her drawing implement and cast her watery eyes to her friends. The image looked like a simple floor plan, the porch, doors, and windows drawn around it. On its own, it wasn’t enough to evoke any substantial emotion in anyone.
“Now how would Mira do this?” Will asked, averting his gaze from the sketch. “We have to know f
or sure that it’s Roselyn and not anything else.”
“We could look at it at the same time…or separately. I don’t know. It should be obvious if we get the same thing out of it,” Mary claimed, smiling.
“OK,” Will agreed. “You can hold it up and we’ll see if anything happens.”
Nodding, Roselyn held the drawing up to them. It looked like she held her breath, and after a moment she took one hand from the stiff fabric and put it to the scars on her throat. Mary and Will kept looking at the decorated rectangle, waiting for something to strike them. The drawing was so simple, and that made it seem silly. Smiling widely, it tickled their funny bones until the ridiculousness of it made them burst out laughing. Roselyn started to laugh at their laughter, and soon the three of them could barely keep upright for all of their cheerful convulsions.
“I haven’t laughed like that in so long!” Mary said, holding her sides and this time not for the hunger. “Was that it, Roselyn? You wanted us to laugh?”
Roselyn gave heavy nods as she squinted on the verge of tears. But she was still smiling too, overcome by a flood of emotions at regaining that which she’d thought she’d lost forever.
“My face hurts,” Will added, still chuckling. “You know, I think everything is going to be OK. Once the witch falls asleep, I’ll find a way into her cabin, grab the eye, meet you both up here, and then we’ll race down the mountain and finally be rid of this place!”
“Will,” Mary said, calling his attention from Roselyn. “Can you let me do it? I’ll know exactly where the eye is, and if the witch moves an inch I’ll know that too. Please let me do it.”
Pursing his lips and tilting his head to the side, Will considered her request. Mary knew she would be putting herself in danger, but she felt like she just had to do something.
“OK, if you insist. But you’ve got to be careful. There could be all kinds of traps in there. I don’t think anyone’s ever been in there besides herself,” Will said.
Mary noticed that even though he was speaking to her, he still had his eyes on Roselyn. There was a longing in them, one that Roselyn returned, and it was so much deeper than the frivolous laughter they had all just shared. It made Mary realize she had never been so far removed from Roselyn, her lifelong best friend, before. Another pang for Vern shot through her heart.
“Why don’t I,” she cleared her throat, “go for a walk and get my mind set for this.”
Getting up, she had it in mind to get the little bone dice with Vern’s face on it and squeeze it tight until it washed away all of her loneliness. Taking one last look as she walked away, Will and Roselyn were already absorbed in each other completely. They barely noticed she was leaving.
Roselyn didn’t know what she was feeling. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, the revelation of her gift and their impending attempt to escape, and there was hardly a moment to sort it all out. And now she had locked eyes with a boy she had known her entire life, one who was sweet, thoughtful, and even cute.
There was no doubt in her mind about the way he felt about her. She could see it every time they were in speaking distance. In truth, she cared about him in much the same way, and yet it was all so horribly wrong. How could she ever have an enchanting romance when she couldn’t even say his name? As great as it was to be able to manipulate people’s emotions again through her art, it didn’t fix how she would never be able to soothe someone she loved with her voice.
“I’m sorry for ruining everything,” she mouthed, not a sound escaping her lips. Will, perpetually transfixed to her slightest movements, nodded.
“I know,” he slowly agreed. “But you don’t have to worry. No matter what happens when we try to get out of here. I’ll always protect you.”
He looked so deeply into her eyes she started to feel self-conscious. Still, she sighed at his misunderstanding but thought it better to go along with it. Once again picking up the charcoal and the fabric, she started to write.
“You don’t have to be afraid for me,” she wrote, hoping he would understand she didn’t need to be treated like a baby though she had lost her voice. Will had nodded instantly as she wrote every word, and even that disappointed her. He didn’t need to be afraid of disagreeing with her either. She wished they could just be equals.
“I know,” he said again. “We’ll make it just fine. There’s nothing to worry about. You’re completely right.” He looked away though and took a tense breath. Though he hadn’t said a word, Roselyn could tell how he tortured himself over what he had done to her.
When he hit her, she didn’t even remember feeling it. This wasn’t a case of domestic violence. It was the hard edge of the slavery they endured. Roselyn thought she probably would’ve done exactly the same if she’d been in his shoes. Turning his head back to her, he looked as though she had.
“But in case something does happen and we don’t make it. Can you just for once tell me how you feel about me?”
Taking the piece of charcoal, she looked at the words she had written. Blacking out the words “don’t” and “afraid,” she allowed Will to read her revision, “You have to be for me.”
Will’s head bobbed up and down in a heartfelt nod.
“I am,” he groveled, putting his hand to his heart. “I absolutely am. And you know it too. It’s just always been for you.”
Roselyn hung her head, looking around to the sides. There was so little time to figure out what was happening. She wished she could just shout for it all to stop and go back to the way it was supposed to be. But it would never be anything different than this, in this horrible place feeling hungry and dirty and always on the verge of tears.
Reaching out, she put her hands on his cheeks and pulled him closer. She met his lips with hers for just one instant and then released him. He gravitated back, stunned, a black mark on his right cheek from her charcoal-covered hand. It all seemed so different from how she pictured it, so wrong. Haltingly, she got up from against the bunkhouse wall and left him to revel in the kiss of a worthless garbage girl.
Once the afternoon shift had ended, the rest hours had begun, and everyone had let the irresistible pull of sleep drag them under, the time had come for Mary to execute her plan and clear the way for their escape. She had waited there in her bunk for hours, her body perfectly still and relaxed but her heart pounding inside of her.
Unable to wait any longer, she slipped over the edge and set her feet to the floor. Roselyn’s open eyes startled her, but she steadied herself and gave her a firm nod. As soon as she had the eye, she would run up to where they had hidden, wave, and then race out of the camp together. It sounded so easy, the only hard part being breaking into the witch’s cabin undetected and stealing her eye.
Roselyn crossed her fingers for her, and Mary exited through the open doorway into the bright expanse of the mountain camp. The grass, the trees, everything had grown so brown from over exposure to the sun. It was disgusting. Her own skin was tanned, and it all felt like the indelible perversion of the force that submerged them. The time had come to get out from under it.
Sneaking around buildings, she wound her way through the camp. Passing other bunkhouses and workstations, she tiptoed when she got closer to the witch’s cabin. The feeling inside her chest revealed there was no one else around, which brought a great deal of relief. Will had told her all about how Neeko had caught him, and there was no way she would let him get her too.
Finally crossing the clearing to the witch’s cabin, keeping her eyes on the guard’s complex nearby, she took her first steps on the unvarnished wooden porch. Though there were windows she could smash, there had to be a way to get in that wouldn’t be so noisy and perilous. She needed to relax herself, and she put her hand against the exterior to learn the witch’s location. The witch was in one corner of the building and the eye was in the other.
The windowsills didn’t appear locked as far as she could tell, but giving one a tug told her she’d never get them open. There was the chimney too, but
she would have to climb to the roof, lower herself down without falling, and hope there wasn’t a fire at the bottom waiting for her. She couldn’t be confident about any of those things. Circling around to the other edge of the porch, she peeked around the side for another point of entry.
A flash of frustration swept over her at the thought she’d never make it inside. She was so close to the eye, which was just on the other side of this wall. Could she smash the window, get it, and have them all escape before anyone got them? It didn’t seem likely. Putting her hand to her head and then flinging it down, she reached for the front door’s handle out of desperation and felt it give way and turn. Staring down at the handle, it seemed miraculous and yet being this much closer to going through with it made her worry all the more.
The pressure cracked through her confidence, making her start to worry she had been wrong about the witch’s power. What if they made their spectacular escape only to suffer a death brought on by her own stupidity? But it just seemed right, and Mary wondered if dying wouldn’t be better than interminable enslavement. Maybe the witch was making it so easy for her because she knew they’d never make it out alive. But Mary had no choice, Will would never make it out alive anyway, and so she pushed open the front door and entered the cabin.
Mary was careful not to make the slightest sound. Everything inside was so dark, but she could make out a fireplace, a rocking chair, and a few doors leading to other rooms. One of them just to the left led to the eye, and another one on the other side led to the witch. It was possible she wasn’t even sleeping, Mary thought. Did she even sleep? If she were awake, she would instantly know she had an intruder. Focusing on that feeling of the witch’s gift, Mary readied herself to run at the slightest movement.
But Mary mused she hadn’t come for the tour and needed to complete her task. Shuffling over the smooth floor, she reached for the door containing her freedom. Extending her arm to grab the door handle, her heart skipped a beat when she sensed the witch coming closer. She froze, but not before a few of her fingertips grazed the door handle.