by Martha Adele
But me? I can’t walk. I can’t do anything by myself anymore.
I move one of my pawns and take one of his. He moves one of his knights to steal my pawn, and I take it with one of my rooks.
“Whoops.” He chuckles. “I didn’t see that.”
I shrug and wait for him to play me back. The steam from my tea is rising at a rapid rate. I watch it and wait to enjoy the warmth and taste of one of the only things that seem to soothe me. Eric and I play the game with the occasional side comment but no real conversation.
Our game is interrupted toward the end by a knocking at the door. When Eric swings the door open, a smile grows on his face. “Young?”
“Good morning, Barnes.” John walks in with a sympathetic look on his face, which becomes even more pity struck when he sees me. “Good morning, Forge.”
I look from him and back to the chessboard.
“So”—Eric closes the door behind them and ushers John over to the seating area—“what brings you by?”
“I can’t just come by and visit two of my favorite veteran soldiers?” Smiling, he looks over to me. I continue staring at the board. “Apparently not.”
I don’t want your pity visit.
“I came by to check up on you two. I heard what happened.” John waves Eric over, and the two of them sit across from me. “I wanted to speak with you both.”
“About?” I ask him.
“Well”—he looks around the room and smiles—“I got this house for you two because you were both injured during your services in the Taai. I wouldn’t have done that for just anyone. I did it for you two, though, and I don’t regret it. Since Eric was leaving, I was going to come and speak to you about rooming with another Taai member, but it seems now we don’t have to worry about that.”
“Meaning, you’re happy I’m stuck in a wheelchair?” I ask him, slightly ticked off at the fact that he is pointing it out.
“No, no. I am definitely not happy about that at all.” He clears his throat and looks to Eric. “I was actually going to come and let you both know that because Logan has been injured to the point of no return, the members of this household will have all necessities paid for.”
“Really?” Eric asks almost giddily. “Meaning, what?”
“I have your codes marked on all the scanners. If you are buying food, up to a certain amount a week, or paying bills, your codes will automatically be accepted because of an account I have set aside for you.”
“Wow.” Eric smiles at me and then back at John. “Thank you, Young. This is really appreciated.”
He nods. “That’s not all I came to say. I actually”—he looks over to me and rises to his feet—“would you mind speaking to me in private, Eric?”
They leave the room and head outside on what I assume will be a long walk. They stay outside for enough time that my tea has time to cool down, and I am able to drink it all. I continue to stare at the chessboard and wait for Eric to come back. I have calculated every move I could make and have found the most productive one.
By the time he and John come back into the house, the air-conditioning has already cooled my mug completely.
They are quiet as they enter. Eric and John look to me as John waves me goodbye, leaving me in an awkward staring position.
“What was that about?” I ask Eric as he closes the door.
“Well, a few things actually.” He sits across from me and moves one of his pieces, allowing me to immediately take it and put his queen in jeopardy. “Wow, you were ready for that.”
“You gave me enough time to prepare.”
He moves a piece in front of his queen to protect her. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. We were going over some things.”
“Like what?” I take the piece protecting her.
He takes my piece with the queen. “Well, he offered me a job. Not the same job you had but one where I would be back working in a special forces group.”
“Yeah?” I ask him. “And you can do all that with your leg?”
I have never once said anything about limits to Eric before. I was always the one encouraging him to do whatever he wants and never letting anything stop him. It is obvious that when I asked him this instead of letting him know how proud of him I am, I hurt him.
“No,” he tells me, “I will be fine.”
I play a pawn and bait the queen to take it, but Eric steals the pawn with his rook.
“One of the other things Young was telling me was that after a certain period of time, you will need to get a job in order for him to be able to keep us in this house. You won’t have to support us or anything. It’s just that the government needs to make sure you aren’t mooching off them, you know.”
I look back up to him with a slight scour. “What kind of job am I supposed to get with no legs?”
A small smirk grows on his face as I realize what he is about to say. “Any desk job really.”
Werner
I flip the page, earning myself a small papercut and pulling me back to reality. I look around the tea shop as I suck on my cut and realize there is barely anyone in here today. The storm outside must be pushing the regulars back into their homes. I’ve noticed that most people who have come to enjoy the Marvelous Cafe are very introverted and rarely go anywhere but here. I doubt that getting out during the storm is something they’d like to do. That, and it is midafternoon, a time when it is usually not crowded.
My eyes fall back upon the book, and I find myself fading back into her body. I am now eight chapters into the story and am loving every moment of it.
After over an hour of continuous and uninterrupted reading, I find myself having to look away from the book. I have just hit one of those moments in the story where a character does something so embarrassing that it hurts me to read it. I give myself a few seconds to roll my eyes and chuckle before turning the page to find a piece of paper hidden within the crease. I pull it out and unfold it to reveal a familiar set of handwriting.
Skimming over it, I read words I never before thought I would have to read.
“Burris caught me. I went through things I wasn’t supposed to and found orders to execute her employees that have become wary. She has a list, and I am at the top of it. I’m sorry, but I have to go before she sends someone after me. I doubt that I will see you again anytime soon, but maybe in the future when this all dies down. I know you will see what’s going on, and I know you will make the right choices. Don’t follow orders blindly, Rhodes. Those acts will be the death of this new nation and cause the deaths of many more. Be careful. Burris knows a lot more than you think.”
I skip to the bottom-left corner to see Mac’s grandiose signature. “With best regards, Ruth Mcaninch.”
I immediately rise to my feet and leave a tip on the table. I shuffle toward the door and am beeped at by the scanners.
“Sir.” My waitress comes over to me, ignoring the customers she was just with. “You can’t take that book with you.”
Looking down at the colorful front, I hand it back to her and scurry out of the Marvelous Cafe with a nervous twisting in my stomach. I manage to flag down a cab and go for a ride to the apartment building Mac was staying in. Running up the stairs, through the halls, and past a few of her neighbors, I finally make it to her door. I turn the handle to find the door unlocked and the room completely empty. No furniture, no pictures, no electronics. I have only been to her apartment once, but I know it was furnished better than that.
If what she said in the note about Burris being on to her is true, then she wouldn’t have stopped by here on her way out of the state. Mac is too smart to make those sort of mistakes. Too smart to have taken time out of her escape to warn me. Why would she have risked going back to the cafe and leaving me a note?
The only reason she would have done that is if Burris was on to me too. Does she know that I let people go by
that night at the river? Would she have known how much I hesitate to shoot people if she hadn’t assigned Jones to work the river with me the other night?
Am I on the list?
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Logan
Days have passed.
And I am still broken beyond repair.
For the first few days, Eric stayed pretty close to me. He would ask me if I needed anything or if I wanted to do anything or even go outside, hail a cab, and go to town. He is being much more attentive with me than I was with him.
Yes, I tried to help him with everything. Anytime I thought he needed something, I would offer my assistance. He would always turn me down and try to get it himself. Most of the time, he needed no help. The first few days were hard for him because he was just sitting around the house and pouting. After he stopped the whining and realized he could do things for himself, there were no other problems. He got his new leg; and from then on, he has been fine.
But me?
No. If I stop my stream of self-pity, it isn’t going to help anything. I won’t be able to just stand up and do things myself. I’m not sad that I lost one of my legs. I’m not sad because I have to wait for my prosthetic. I am sad because I will never be able to walk again.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Eric asks me for the millionth time before he heads out to work. “I put some water bottles on the counter, and I put some hot water in a thermos for you if you decide you want tea. Is there anything else you think you’ll want while I’m gone?”
I shake my head with a bitter attitude that has become natural for me. “I can reach the bottom section of the refrigerator. I think I’m okay for a few hours.”
Eric nods. “Okay. Call if you need anything.”
I nod and roll through the room, away from the door. Eric exits the house, gets into a cab, and rides off to his perfect new job, leaving me at home, alone, to fend for myself.
It’s not like it is that hard. I have pretty much mastered it. Just put the things I need where I can reach them. Eric acts as if he has to baby me. He doesn’t. I can handle myself. I can help myself.
I roll the chair over to the kitchen counter and stare. I pull a mug over to me, grab a bag of honey green tea, and fix myself some liquid joy. Otherwise known as hot tea without any added cream or sugar.
I take my scalding hot mug and set it on a plate. With that plate, I pull the tea off the counter and place it in my lap. Before I begin my journey that promises not to end well, a knock at the door startles me.
I clear my throat and slowly make my way to the table to place my tea down. “Who is it?”
“Logan? It’s Derek. Derek Page?”
“Come in.” I continue slowly rolling myself to the table and holding the mug with one hand and wheeling with the other. “The door should be unlocked.”
He slowly enters the house and looks down at me. After a moment of hesitation, he walks over toward the table. “Would you like some help?”
I look from my tea mug, my plate, and my dead legs up to him. I look into his eyes and note their purple centers before I give him a small smile. “Hello, Derek. How are you?”
He takes a step back as I continue toward the table, pretending not to have heard his question.
In hindsight, I probably should have filled up my tea once I got to the table.
Derek chuckles and takes a seat beside me as I set my tea down successfully. “Good I guess?”
“Good. I’m happy to hear that.” I blow on my tea and wait for it to cool. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
He nods. “It has. And I’m sorry about that. I’ve been meaning to come and visit.”
I smile at him. “I assume you knew of my condition?”
He nods again, this time with less enthusiasm. “I called a few days ago to talk to you, and Eric answered the phone.”
I roll my chair back from the table and into the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink? Anything to eat?”
Derek chuckles. “I guess so. I’ll take a water.”
I pull off a water bottle and toss it over. “Here you go.”
He smiles at me as he catches the bottle and twists open the cap. “Thank you.” He takes a few sips of the water and looks down to me in the chair. “I’m sorry, Logan.”
“I’m fine.”
Derek nods back. “I know, but I’m still sorry. And you know what, I’m here to help you with whatever you need.”
I find myself slowly scowling at him. “Do you mean the only reason you are here is to babysit me?”
“What?” Derek closes his water bottle and shakes his head. “No no no, I am here to visit a friend, and if I happen to be able to assist in some way, then so be it.”
“I’m fine, really. Thank you, but you have enough to deal with on your own.” I scoot my chair up to the table and take a sip of the tea. “How is your mom?”
Derek remains quiet. He runs his hands through his hair to reveal a much darker red than I remember. He stares at his water for a little bit before looking back to me. “I don’t really know if you’d want to hear about it. It’s kind of depressing.”
I smile and roll out from the table. With a sly smile on my face, I gesture to the wheelchair and earn a snicker from Derek. “Don’t worry about depressing,” I tell him. “I think I have you beat.”
He looks at me with a small smile. “There are good days, and there are bad days. But within most of those days”—Derek sighs and opens his water bottle again—“she has trouble recognizing who I am.”
As he sips his water, his eyes remain averted from mine.
I give a nervous chuckle and roll back to the table. “Well, you have me beat.” After a moment of quiet, I adjust my teabag in the cup and speak up, “I’m so sorry, Derek.”
He shrugs.
I can’t imagine what it’s like to have your own mother, especially one you are so close to, not recognize you. She cared for you half of your life, and then you care for her the rest of hers; and yet, she can’t tell you apart from anyone else. I can’t imagine the feeling of looking into her eyes and not having her recognize you. My mother died for me, and she knew what she was dying for. I know that she loved me so much at that moment, that she was willing to take a beating. But Derek? Derek and his mom? He can’t even call her mom anymore and have her respond.
The two of us sit in silence as I drink my tea and he sips his water. We both know we have horrible things going on in our lives, but we both want to act as if it is nothing. The only way I know how to deal with that is to do the same thing I would do with Eric.
“Do you know how to play chess?” I ask him.
He nods. “Do you have a board?”
I point over to the coffee table where the game I played this morning with Eric is still set up. Derek walks over to it and analyzes the pieces as he brings the board over to the dining table.
“Who lost?”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s just play, all right?”
Derek snorts with a pleased facial expression I have never seen from him. “This should be easy.”
We go back and forth for about ten minutes, and I find that he is even a better player than Eric.
“So”—I take the last sip of my tea—“are you the person who taught Mavis how to play chess?”
He nods. “Yeah. Why?”
“I could never beat her either.”
Derek lets a smile grow on his face. “She was always a really good player.”
I nod as he puts me into checkmate. Before he gets the chance to say anything, I begin resetting the board. “Yeah yeah yeah, good job. Let’s go again.”
He chuckles as we reset the pieces. “So you played with Mavis?”
I nod. “And lost every time.”
Derek remains silent for a moment.
“What ab
out you? How often did you win against her?”
He shrugs. “We were about even. She won half of the time. I won half of the time.”
I hesitate for a moment. The question that continuously flies through my head, flies through my head once more, and finds its way out of my mouth. “Were you and Mavis ever together?”
Derek looks to me with a puzzled look. “What? You mean a couple?”
I nod, finding that my question has seemed to make the atmosphere slightly awkward.
“No, we weren’t. She was more like a sister to me than anything. I don’t think I could ever even think of her that way.”
I roll out from the table and go refill my tea.
“So what about you?”
I turn to look back at Derek as he finishes setting up the pieces. “What?”
“Were you and Mavis a couple?”
I roll over to him slowly and contemplate. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“She spoke of you and Sam a lot. When she spoke of Sam, it was like she was speaking of a friend.” He moves his piece first. “But when she spoke of you, I could tell she felt a little bit different.”
“Yeah?”
Derek nods. “And when you asked her to the inauguration ball, I thought you were sealing the deal. I thought you were going to actually make your move, but you didn’t.”
“Well, I mean”—I clear my throat as I pour my tea—“what was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know. You could have said, ‘Hey, Mavis, it is obvious that I like you, and I was hoping that you felt the same way. Would you like to go to the inauguration ball with me?’”
“What? But it’s not like I … well, I—” I move one of my pieces and run my hands through my hair, not knowing what to say. “I came to your house one night to actually talk to her about this, but that was the night that she wasn’t there.”