Once again, Aubrey stood speechless. Why would Sarazin be at the prison? In the middle of a …
“Riot,” Aubrey finished his thought out loud. “The riot is him. He staged it somehow.”
“Impossible,” Rudolfo said flatly. “How could he?”
“You’ve seen all he’s been able to do in the past few months,” Aubrey waved an arm toward the door, “and you doubt he could cause this?”
“Why would he?” Rudolfo asked incredulously.
“There are four people here who he knows are looking into BSS, the bombings, all of it. What better way to have us all killed than under the cover of a prison riot?”
“Five. Five people.” Francesca was on her feet. “The Member Principal has to know too.”
Everyone nodded.
“So, what do we do?” Malina asked. The four of them stood in a circle.
“The two people we need are here. And so are we,” Aubrey said.
“And?” Rudolfo said, squinting.
“And we go get them,” Aubrey said.
“Then what do we do once we have them? If we can even get to them,” Rudolfo said.
Aubrey took a deep breath and let it out in a long smooth exhalation. “I don’t know. But by the time we get there, I’ll have thought of something.”
“There are twenty-four floors between us and Jacobi and Sarazin.” Francesca spoke in a matter of fact tone. “Twenty-four floors full of violent, unfettered inmates who have a newfound bloodlust for killing Members of the Order.”
“Yeah,” Aubrey said, rolling up his shirt sleeves. “But who wants to live forever.”
III
Part Three
25
Beginnings
Eighteen Years Ago
Frannie sat on a thick matted rug watching her brother Hank play with wooden blocks. At eighteen months old, he was pretty good at stacking them up in a neat tower a few blocks high. His favorite part, however, was swinging his arms wildly at them, sending them crashing to the floor.
Frannie would sit with him all day like this. If she walked away, even for a moment, he cried his head off. She didn’t mind his need for her. She loved him very much. She loved him as much as she missed their parents.
The beige rug was large and round. In places she could see through the shag to the woven matting beneath. Stains of various size and color dotted it.
Hank’s blocks were as bad as the rug—worn and faded, adorned with teeth marks and slobber stains from who knows how many orphans like them.
Orphans. That’s what they were now. The shock of the word and the feeling it brought stunned her every morning she woke up for the last six months. When she opened her eyes for the first time every day, if she slept at all, she found herself here, inside a waking nightmare. Every moment, every interaction here reminded her they were alone, forever.
At least they had each other. Hank didn’t know anything about anything yet, but every now and then he’d utter a “mama” or “dada” in his garbled speech. He looked for them everywhere. So did she if she was honest with herself. She kept hoping it was all some joke, some prank her parents were pulling.
She’d just started to accept that her mom was gone. She hadn’t gotten over it, but she was getting used to it. Then, her dad was killed in the mudslide six months ago. Why did they have go for a walk that day? Frannie had been in one of her bad moods and her dad thought it would help.
Around them, children of all ages milled about playing with broken toys or reading worn out books. At seven years old, Frannie was among the oldest.
Nearly every day, she and Hank spent time with people looking to adopt children. The other kids called them shoppers. Usually they came in pairs; sometimes they came alone. Every time, Frannie and her brother were passed up.
“You’re too sad,” Drew, a boy about her age, had told her after one meeting with two shoppers. “They don’t want sad kids.”
“Then why are you still here?” Frannie had bit back.
The other kids didn’t like her. She had barely spoken to any of them since she and Hank arrived. Most were in similar situations as she and Hank—dead parents. Others were taken from their parents for reasons she couldn’t figure out. Why would parents let them go? Her parents would never let her and Hank go. Her dad died to keep them safe.
Hank looked at her with a look of total contentment, his smile permanently plastered on his chubby face. He made her feel better. She saw her dad in him, some of her mom too.
“Frannie,” called a woman’s voice behind her. Frannie turned to see Ms. Elmyr walking toward her. Ms. Elmyr wore her usual costume of a knee length gray skirt and purple sweater, a bright gold locket hung around her neck. Her graying dark hair sat like a helmet of tight curls on top of her head.
Frannie couldn’t figure out what the woman smelled like, but it reminded her of her dead grandfather.
“Yes, Ms. Elmyr?” Frannie replied.
“Come with me, dear.”
Frannie suspected it was another pair of shoppers and reached to pick up her brother.
“No, dear. Just you.”
Frannie looked back at Ms. Elmyr then at Hank, who drooled on a block stamped with a green J.
“He’ll be okay, dear. The nannies are watching.”
Frannie shrugged and stood. Hank started to whine and when Frannie was ten feet away, he wailed in protest. She started to turn back, but Ms. Elmyr had her by the shoulder.
“He’ll be fine, dear.”
Ms. Elmyr’s office was down the hall from the large playroom where she and Hank spent most of their time.
Inside, a huge wooden desk took up most of the room. Behind it, Ms. Elmyr took a seat in a squeaky desk chair. She extended a hand, inviting Frannie to sit in one of two wooden chairs on the opposite side.
The office was small and the desk made it feel smaller. Loose papers and file folders were stacked on shelves and atop metal cabinets around the room. A ceiling fan whirred overhead, wobbling as it spun, sending the pull-chain in an orbit around the lone light bulb.
“I have good news, Frannie dear.” Ms. Elmyr propped her elbows on the armrests of her chair and steepled her hands in front of a wide smile. “Someone has requested to adopt you.”
Surprised, Frannie blinked and looked around the room. Something on the desk caught her eye—a piece of paper with her name on it. It looked like a list. There were other names on it too.
Ms. Elmyr rearranged the top of her desk and the list disappeared among the files and papers.
“Aren’t you excited, dear? Someone wants you to come live with them.”
“I thought I was too sad,” Frannie said. “One of the other kids told me I was too sad. No one wants sad kids.”
“Oh, no no no,” Ms. Elmyr clucked. “Some children like to tell stories, dear. No, you’re not too sad. Not at all.”
“So, who wants us?” Frannie felt brighter. She tried to picture all the faces she and Hank had met who wanted to adopt children. Who could it be?
Ms. Elmyr tilted her head back and pursed her lips. “Oh, I see I wasn’t clear. So sorry, dear. I don’t know where my head is today.”
The woman stood and walked around to Frannie’s side of the desk. She leaned against it with her hands clasped in front her. Lips still pursed, she gazed down at Frannie.
“Frannie, dear, it is very difficult for families to take in two children at the same time. It’s just too much for most people. Do you understand?”
Frannie did not understand. What kind of family didn’t want two kids at the same time? Her parents seemed to manage just fine. She didn’t care. She didn’t want to be with any family not willing to take both of them.
“I thought you said someone is taking us home?”
“Someone is, but it will only be you, dear.”
“What?” Frannie’s lip quivered; she breathed faster. “What about Hank? You can’t split us up. I won’t go. I won’t,” Frannie shouted.
“Calm yourself
, dear,” Ms. Elmyr said in a much louder voice than Frannie had ever heard from the woman. She brushed the front of her sweater with one hand and after a pause, she continued. “As I said, it’s difficult for any family to take on two new children at the same time, two new mouths to feed, two new backs to clothe, and so on.”
“But …”
“But,” Ms. Elmyr said, raising a finger, “a baby, especially one so cute and adorable as little baby Hank, is highly sought after. Many, many people want to take Hank. They’d snap him up like that.” Ms. Elmyr snapped her fingers. “But with the two of you together,” she shrugged and looked away, “I don’t think Hank would ever be adopted. You two would end up permanent members of our little home here.” She spread her arms and looked back at Frannie.
A fat tear ran down Frannie’s cheek and splashed against her T-shirt. Staying at the orphanage forever sounded terrible, but at least they’d be together. She and Hank could make it work. They could have fun here as long as they were together.
Frannie shook her head and wiped the tears away. No. Hank needed a home. Hank deserved a home.
“So, if I leave, Hank will go to a nice home?”
“Oh, dear, little Hanky will go to a very nice home. I’m sure of it.” Ms. Elmyr clapped her hands together.
“Who wants me then?” Frannie said. “Where am I going?” Frannie realized Ms. Elmyr never used the word family when she said someone wanted her.
“Do you remember the woman and man you spoke with earlier today? In the dark clothing?”
Frannie remembered them. A dark-skinned woman and a very pale man dressed in the same tight black clothes that looked like dresses with long sleeves. Frannie did not get the feeling they were married or even a family. Their questions felt more like a test than anything else. They wrote down a lot of things while they asked her their strange questions.
Frannie nodded.
“They’re going to take you to a wonderful place. A lot like a school, really. You’ll live there and there will be other kids just like you.” Ms. Elmyr leaned forward and gripped Frannie’s chin in her claw-like fingers. “They will be your new family.”
* * *
Member Principal Amadi of the Order of the Coppice and her associate waited in Gilda Elmyr’s office. It was late in the afternoon and after a day full of interviewing children, she was ready to get back to their hotel for a drink.
The door behind them flew open and Ms. Elmyr scurried in. She greeted the two members by name as she flopped into her creaking chair across the desk from them.
“Good day to you both. I see your interviews went well.” Her smile stretched in an elongated U shape from temple to temple, compressing her eyelids to slits. She leaned forward, her elbows on the desk and her hands clasped in front of her.
Member Principal Amadi nodded. “You have spoken with all of the children?” She pointed at the list of names on Ms. Elmyr’s desk. The list she’d given Ms. Elmyr hours earlier.
“I have. But I’m afraid there is one I cannot give you.” Ms. Elmyr’s smile faded to a grimace.
This again, Amadi thought. Every visit it was the same and Amadi thanked the heavens that she only had to come here once a year.
Amadi took a deep breath. “Oh? Which child would that be?”
Ms. Elmyr looked down at the list in front of her, as if searching for a name. “This Miss Frannie. Such a dear, but I’m afraid she and her brother Hank are highly sought after. Many lovely families are hoping to bring them home.” She shrugged and leaned back. “We don’t want to separate them, you see. I’m afraid she simply cannot go with you.” She gave the two Members a grim smile.
What will it take this time? Amadi wondered.
“I see. We particularly liked her. She is the perfect age. High aptitude. Very astute.” After another deep breath, she continued, “If she were included, there could be additional compensation on top of the normal state funding. This compensation would be,” Amadi paused so she understood, “in the usual amount and delivered with its usual discretion.”
“Madame Amadi, you know the protocols.” Ms. Elmyr shook her head in what Amadi took to be an attempt to appear affronted and bewildered. “You are only allowed to take a child if he or she is passed up for adoption and seemingly unadoptable. If a child is sought after by would-be parents, they cannot go with you to your,” she cleared her throat, “facility. Besides, what am I to tell all those nice people who would give Frannie and little Hank a home? I simply can’t.”
Ms. Elmyr leaned back and turned her chair to face the wall, showing Amadi and the younger Member her profile.
Amadi hated these games.
“Gilda, we could double the usual amount of additional compensation if Frannie were allowed to come with us.” Amadi just wanted to get the charade over with.
Ms. Elmyr frowned and shook her head. “No, I just don’t think I could do it. It’s not just illegal but immoral—that’s the thing. No, I just can’t, Amadi. I am sorry.”
Amadi closed her eyes, closed her mind to the greed wafting across the desk. After a brief, internal meditation, she opened her eyes and said, “Triple.”
Ms. Elmyr’s head tilted back and a flicker of a smile flitted across her face. She inhaled deeply as if breathing in the steam from a hearty stew. Turning in her chair, she began shuffling papers on her desk.
Not looking up, Ms. Elmyr said, “You will be here in the morning at your usual time, I suppose? I shall have them all cleaned and dressed for you when you arrive.”
Amadi and the man next to her looked at each other for a moment then stood. “Very well. Good day to you, Ms. Elmyr.” Amadi bowed slightly before turning to leave.
Behind her, Amadi could hear Ms. Elmyr humming as she quietly rearranged the mass of paperwork covering her desk.
* * *
That night, after bedtime, Frannie snuck out of the girl’s wing. In the silent stillness she crept through the orphanage to the toddlers’ wing. Weaving through the cribs, careful not to make a sound, she found Hank.
He lay on his back. His sleep sack hung loosely around his body; his arms splayed limply at his sides. She climbed into his crib and laid down beside him. She rested a hand on his chest, watching it rise and fall with his breaths.
In the months after her mother died, Frannie and her dad would lay on either side of Hank, each resting a hand on his chest, watching their hands rise and fall with each breath. Now, next to her brother, in the middle of dozens of other orphans, she closed her eyes and imagined both her dad and her mom were there with her. Three hands on baby Hank. A family connection she’d never had a chance to know.
* * *
“Oh, dear, I thought I’d find you here.”
Frannie opened her eyes. Ms. Elmyr stood over her and Hank. He was still asleep. Glancing toward the window, Frannie saw that it was still dark out.
“Come now, dear. Your new home is waiting.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away as quick as they came. Her dad would want her to be brave; she knew that.
Bending low, she kissed her brother on the head.
“I love you, Hank. Be good for whoever you end up with. I love you.”
Ms. Elmyr lifted her from the crib and set her on the floor. “Good girl. Now, it’s time to go.”
Frannie turned as she was pulled away, trying to catch a glimpse of Hank, but she lost sight of him as they turned through the maze of cribs.
* * *
Outside on the sidewalk, Frannie stood in a line next to a dozen other children about her age. Each of them had a small bag next to their feet. Somewhere in the orphanage behind them, her brother still slept. He’d be looking for her when he woke.
Frannie shivered in the cold, damp air. Sunlight peeked over the horizon.
The sound of a vehicle crept through the dim light of morning. Soon, a large black van pulled from around the side of the building and stopped next to the sidewalk where she stood.
Out of the van stepped
three people. Two of them she recognized as the woman and man who asked her all the strange questions the day before. The third person was a young woman, taller than Frannie with long dark hair and brown skin. Maybe a teenager. She wore an outfit similar to the other two, only it was gray instead of black.
The older woman in black, the one who’d asked her all the questions, opened the side door of the van and began welcoming the children as they stepped forward to enter.
Frannie, at the end of the line, hesitated. Would she ever be able to get back here? Would she ever see her brother again? Where were they being taken anyway?
The pale man stepped in front of her. He bent down and looked her in the eyes with a kind face.
“Sweetie, are you coming with us?”
“Where?” She looked down at her feet, trying to hold back the tears. “Where are you taking us?”
“To a very special place.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “A special place for special people.”
She looked up. Her dad had always called her special. The tears slowed.
“You think I’m special?”
“I know you’re special,” he said, smiling. “And we can teach you how to be even more special. How does that sound?”
She nodded.
“We met yesterday, didn’t we? I’m Frannie.”
“I know, honey.” The man placed a gloved hand to his chest. “You can call me Brother Jacobi.”
“Hi, Brother Jacobi.”
“Hi, Frannie.” Brother Jacobi pursed his lips. “Why don’t I introduce you to someone who can be your buddy for today? Someone who could help you settle in at your new home. Would you like that?”
Frannie nodded and for the first time in a long time, the hint of a grin crossed her face. She hadn’t had a buddy in a very long time.
Brother Jacobi stood, his hand still on Frannie’s shoulder. With his other hand he waved for the young woman in gray to come over. With warm eyes she approached the two of them.
“This is my friend Frannie,” Brother Jacobi said to the young woman. “Would you please be her buddy for the day and help her get settled in? Answer any questions she might have. Could you do that?”
Executioner's Lament Page 28