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The Wild Children Trilogy Box Set

Page 67

by Hannah Ross


  Priscilla approached and put her arms around him. "I'll miss you. And I'll miss home."

  Though Priscilla's family, with their aristocratic notions, would be shocked to see the log cabin in which Ben and Priscilla lived, the young couple made a comfortable home for themselves in their woodland haven. They added an extension to the cabin when Ian was born, and had solar panels that supplied them with power and pure running water from the creek, and a neat, well-tended homestead with a vegetable garden, poultry and a little Jersey cow that kept them in an abundance of milk, cheese and butter.

  "When were you thinking of going?" Ben asked.

  "Tomorrow. I'll take one of the horses to your parents', and they can give me a ride to Resurrection Town."

  "Alright," Ben said. If something had to be, it might as well be at once. "I'll come with you as far as my folks and take the horse back home."

  * * *

  The ride to Ben's parents' farmhouse might have been an anxious one for Priscilla, and a melancholy one for Ben, but it was pure delight for their son. One-year-old Ian couldn't walk yet, but being on horseback was second nature to him. Safely strapped to his mother, he spent the ride alternately looking around, enjoying the change of scenery, and napping.

  Their arrival was a pleasant surprise for Ben's aging parents. Rebecca, in old faded overalls, her grey hair tied back in a bouncy ponytail, rushed forward to kiss her son on the cheek and take little Ian out of Priscilla's arms while her husband, Daniel, hung back and smiled.

  "Ben. Prissy! I had no idea we could expect you today. Come in, I'll throw something on the stove."

  "I'm afraid we don't have much time, Rebecca," Priscilla said. "Could you possibly give me a lift to Resurrection Town?"

  Daniel and Rebecca exchanged a look. "What happened?" Daniel asked.

  "It's my father."

  The matter was succinctly explained as they all sat behind the scrubbed wooden table over large, steaming mugs of coffee. Ian, happy as always to find himself at his grandparents', settled down on the floor to pull the ears and tail of a docile, sleepy, shaggy Border Collie.

  "I'm sorry, Priscilla," Rebecca laid a comforting hand on her arm. "I know this must be really…I mean to say..."

  "It's alright." Priscilla shook her head. "It's a tough time for the family, but I know it's hard to feel sorry for Alexander Dahl."

  The Hursts could not deny that. It was because of Alexander Dahl's population control policy that Ben was born without a legal permit, grew up in an orphanage, and wasn't reunited with his parents until the age of seventeen, after having lived five years across the Boundary. Ben claimed he had no regrets and said he had made a good life for himself among the Wild Children, but the bitterness was there, etched in the sad lines around Rebecca's mouth. She lost many years with her son, and it seemed some wounds healed only now, with the birth of little Ian.

  "Just give me a minute to get my bag, Prissy," Rebecca said. "Are you coming with us, Ben? I'll probably take this chance to pop in to see Kate and Tony and the children."

  Ben shook his head. "I need to take the horses home soon. There's nobody to take care of the animals."

  He and Priscilla went a little to the side, and Ben picked up his son and tossed him up in his arms and tickled him, but Priscilla wasn't deceived. "You'd rather have me stay home, I know."

  "I'll miss you. But I know you have to go. I'd never forgive myself for holding you back at such a time."

  Priscilla stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "Thanks, honey. It's going to be a sad and stifling visit, and I’d rather never set foot in Silver Oaks again, but I have to face this. You check in with your mom and dad from time to time, alright? I'll call them as soon as I can."

  These days there was a weak mobile signal where Daniel and Rebecca lived, but none at all as far out in the wilderness as Ben and Priscilla's cabin. Any communication with the Boundary was tenuous at best.

  As the car drove off, Ben stood for a while with his hands in his pockets, watching the trail of dust it left in its wake.

  Daniel came over and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You know she had to go, son."

  Ben nodded. "I know. But I'm allowed not to feel too thrilled about this, right? Those people, they... no, I can't say they hate me. They don't even know me, after all. But they were never able to wrap their heads around the fact that Priscilla chose someone like me. They've scarcely made any contact in five years."

  "They might never understand, but they've had to accept it. You and Priscilla love each other. You have a son. That is a fact."

  Ben nodded again. "That's true. But we're dealing with people who are used to shaping reality as they see fit."

  The Van Wullens and Dahls were all in an uproar when Priscilla, fresh out of college, announced she was leaving the brilliant, privileged future that was her birthright in favor of an illegally born half-savage from beyond the Boundary. Her mother had a nervous breakdown. Most of Priscilla's relatives disowned her. And, though she hadn't actually spoken to him about this, Ben saw the one letter Priscilla got from her sister, about a year after their marriage. Stephanie Thornton implored Priscilla to 'leave off this madness and return to civilization'.

  Ben knew his wife loved him and the life they made together. The strength of their attachment weathered five long years during which he and Priscilla were able to see each other only sporadically and, at least until she came of age, in secret. He had no reason to think a couple of weeks with her family would shake Priscilla's confidence in the choices she had made. Why, then, did he feel so uneasy?

  2

  ________________________________

  Priscilla had not seen the Boundary for five years. She well remembered the elation she felt as she left the great creaking gates of the crossing point behind her, hastening on to her wedding, her new life with Ben, and their new home. She was ill prepared for the oppressive sensation she experienced now, as the gates closed behind her, shutting her in.

  The Boundary should be abolished. It serves no real purpose besides making people restricted and more easily controlled.

  She stopped the car she rented in Resurrection Town and looked around. Stephanie said someone would come to pick her and Ian up, so Priscilla directed the car to the parking lot.

  Sure enough, she soon recognized the cars that must have been sent by the Thorntons – a procession of sleek, shiny, identical-looking black SUVs.

  So like Ned and Stephanie. So unnecessary. It's only a family visit, not an official delegation.

  For a fleeting moment Priscilla thought Stephanie might have come to meet her herself, but that soon proved to be wishful thinking. Mrs. Ned Thornton had better things to do than scamper off to a crossing point to welcome a wayward sister.

  "Miss Dahl?" A driver in black sunglasses touched his cap to her. Priscilla felt a rising of mutiny. She hadn't been addressed as Miss Dahl for five years.

  "Mrs. Grey."

  Confused, the driver checked his notes, but apparently what he read didn't make much sense. "You're Mrs. Thornton's sister, ma'am?" He sounded like a man grasping at straws and Priscilla decided to take pity on him.

  "Yes. That's me. Where do we sit?"

  Priscilla was ushered into the back seat of the oppressively luxurious car. Ian, who was unused to the confined and rushed atmosphere of a city, began to whimper. Priscilla herself was overwhelmed. In five years she hadn't seen a settlement bigger than Resurrection Town. She held Ian close, to reassure herself as much as the baby. "Don't worry, little one. It's alright." But whether this was true, she could hardly tell.

  * * *

  Though Ned Thornton was born into a very well-to-do family, and though he had risen to Vice Minister of Finances, he could not yet afford a landed estate of the scope of Silver Oaks. In the meantime, the young Thorntons and their two children occupied a luxurious penthouse on top of one of the city's newest skyscrapers. They had a terrace and a private gym and a swimming pool, and a playroom for the children as big as Ben and Pr
iscilla's whole cabin.

  Stephanie displayed some proper emotion upon meeting her only sister after an estrangement of five years. "Oh, Prissy! How wonderful it is to finally see you! How glad I am that you have come. And this must be little Ian. Ian, dear, won't you come to me? I'm Aunt Stephanie."

  Ian, not at all tempted by this offer, buried his face in his mother's shoulder. "He's a little shy of strangers," Priscilla said, caressing her son's silky curls. "Where are your children, Steph? You have two, right?"

  "Yes - Olivia is four and Georgie just turned two. They're taking a nap now. It's probably time to wake them, though, or it will be a tough business getting them to sleep tonight." Stephanie raised her voice slightly. "Carla! Carla, where have you got to?"

  "I'm here, ma'am," said an efficient-looking woman in a uniform, smoothing her apron as she came forward.

  "Are Olivia and Georgie still napping?"

  "Yes, ma'am, last I checked. Do you want me to wake them?"

  "You'd better do that, yes. It's nearly teatime. Make the children neat and presentable and bring them to the afternoon room. They'll want to meet their aunt and cousin."

  "Carla is a bit dim sometimes," Stephanie complained with a sigh as the uniformed woman walked away. "But she's the best au pair I've ever had. Really steady and the children love her. Come on, Prissy, you must be dying of thirst. Let's ring for tea."

  Another uniformed helper set the tea table, with muffins and scones and tiny sandwiches, and a flower-patterned teapot that emitted fragrant steam. "Do have something," Stephanie pressed. "The blueberry muffins are good. Take some cream with your tea, Prissy. I imagine you haven't tasted cream in ages."

  Priscilla smiled. "Actually, we have cream every day. Our cow gives us very rich milk."

  Stephanie's eyes widened. "Your… oh, dear. I see. Well, it's not like I meant to say you look underfed. You look great, actually. Considering everything. So does your little boy."

  To avoid an immediate answer she might regret, Priscilla took a muffin, broke it apart, gave the larger part to Ian, and ate some herself before she took a sip of tea. Ian, who had just mastered the use of a straw, drank some orange juice.

  "You look pretty good yourself, Steph," observed Priscilla.

  Stephanie gave an indulgent smile and ran her hand through her expertly arranged, perfectly highlighted hair. She was wearing a classic tailored tweed suit with a knee-length skirt – very understated, very expensive, and her shapely ankles were accentuated by shiny low-heeled boat shoes. She looked like a younger, sprightlier version of her mother in her better days.

  The thought of her parents finally prompted Priscilla to ask the question she had been dreading. "How are things at Silver Oaks?"

  Stephanie's expression grew serious. "Oh, Prissy," she said, shaking her head. "It's pretty bad. The doctors aren't giving us much hope, and though we've tried to keep this quiet and soften their verdict, Dad is no fool. He knows his days are numbered. He's tired of fighting, I think. It's all terribly hard on Mom. She'll be so glad you've come."

  Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the children, two round-cheeked cherubs who were ushered forward by Carla.

  "There you are, Mommy's darlings," Stephanie said brightly, stretching her arms forward. "Come and give Mommy a kiss, and meet your aunt Priscilla. Carla, you may go. I'll call you if you're wanted at bath time." She turned back to her sister. "I usually spend all afternoon and evening with the children," she said with the air of someone expecting to be praised for her virtue. "I only hand them to Carla for baths and bedtime if I'm really tired."

  Priscilla, never having been away from little Ian for more than an hour since his birth, wisely refrained from commenting and took another muffin.

  "Steph," Priscilla said after a few minutes of attempting to ingratiate herself with her niece and nephew, "Where can I rent a car around here? I left the one I drove at the crossing point."

  Her sister gave her a bewildered look. "Rent a car? Silly, you can take one of ours - we have two spare ones, but..."

  "Well, that's good, then," Priscilla said. "Where do you keep your car keys?"

  Stephanie's eyes widened. "What? Why, Prissy. Surely you don't mean right now! We must get ready for dinner. We're expected at Silver Oaks. Everyone will be so excited to see you. Ned is very busy at the office these days, but he said he'd make it."

  Priscilla clicked her tongue with some impatience. "There are three hours left until dinner. I'm sure that's enough time to take a quick shower and put on a fresh blouse. Please, Steph, there's someplace I need to go first. I'll make it to Silver Oaks on time, I promise."

  Stephanie relented with a sigh. "Alright, here. Take the keys. Do you want to leave Ian here with my au pair?"

  Priscilla suppressed a smile. "No, Steph, thanks. I believe I can manage my son."

  "Alright, then. Be sure to put him a car seat. Can I at least ask where you're going in such a hurry?"

  Priscilla turned around, Ian on her hip and her fingers around the door handle. "To visit Tilly."

  Ignoring her sister's mute indignation, Priscilla stepped into the huge shiny elevator, which absolutely fascinated Ian, rode down to the parking area underneath the skyscraper, found the lot belonging to the Thorntons, and fit the key into the door of a car that looked brand-new and virtually unused..

  "Be a good boy now," Priscilla said, strapping her baby into the car seat. "We're going to see Aunt Tilly."

  It took Priscilla a few minutes to get the hang of driving in traffic. The busy streets of the Urban Island were quite a challenge. She kept two steady hands on the wheel as she drove to a humble district of nondescript apartment buildings. She consulted her address book, parked the car, and ascended a steep flight of stairs. Finding herself in front of a scratched narrow door, she knocked.

  She was met with a gasp of astonishment, wonder, and delight, and a pair of plump brown arms, familiar since childhood, squeezed her with gentle force, careful not to startle the baby. "Prissy, my dear Prissy! I thought you might come, but I didn't really expect… not so soon, anyway. Dear me, is that little Ian? How handsome he is! And so like his Daddy! But come in, dear, come in. Don't stand on that drafty doorstep."

  The apartment was tiny and almost miraculously clean. Tilly, still uttering half-smothered exclamations of surprise and delight, ushered Priscilla into the cozy little kitchen and sat her down in front of the narrow table. "Tea, Prissy? Or a cup of hot chocolate just as you like, with a pinch of cinnamon on top? I have some fresh cornbread. Sorry, I didn't make anything fancy. If only I knew you were coming."

  "No need, Tilly. I've had tea with my sister. Just a cup of chocolate would be great. It's so wonderful to see you!"

  "And you, my dear Prissy. It's been too long. I've so wanted to go beyond the Boundary once more and see that lovely place where you settled, but life has a way of getting in the way. The past three years have been rough, with Clive's last illness."

  Priscilla squeezed Tilly's hand. "I'm so sorry."

  "Don't be, dear. It was his time, I suppose. God just decided he must go. The doctors couldn't do anything. At least his passing was peaceful, and Louisa and I were right there with him until the end."

  "Louisa is doing well, I hope?"

  "Oh, yes. Couldn't be better. The grandkids keep me on my toes. And you? But I don't need to ask. You look so happy and beautiful. How is Ben?"

  "As well as can be. He wasn't happy with my coming here, though. Neither was I, for that matter."

  Tilly raised her eyebrows. "Surely Ben didn't resent you going to be with your family at such a time?"

  "No, but you can't expect Ben to like my family either. They didn't come to the wedding and went so far as to insist that it was no wedding at all because, according to the philosophy of my precious relatives, Ben and others like him don't exist. Ben was separated from his family, grew up in an orphanage, and was kicked out into polluted wilderness along with a bunch of other helpless pre-teens, all b
ecause my high and mighty father decided that a few extra children would ruin the economy."

  "Yes, well." Tilly shook her head. "I do believe that if Mrs. Dahl met Ben in person, she wouldn't think you'd thrown yourself away."

  Priscilla's mouth twitched in a bitter smile. She watched Ian stack a few crackers one on top of another. "Fat chance of that. Tilly, say, have you seen Aunt Daphne lately?"

  "I still go and clean house for Miss Van Wullen twice a week. Your aunt is in good health, but she's getting on in years and she misses you."

  "She thinks I'm crazy, like the rest of them, though, doesn't she?"

  "Your aunt can't understand your choice, Prissy. Probably none of your relatives ever will."

  "Yes." Priscilla sighed and shook her head, as if ridding herself of irksome thoughts. "I suppose this isn't about me. It's about being there for mom. Thanks for the hot chocolate, Tilly, nobody makes it the way you do. I'll drop by again one of these days, soon."

  Tilly took up little Ian and affectionately mussed his hair. "You just take care of yourself and this little tot, Prissy. Nothing else really matters, does it?"

  * * *

  Priscilla gave Stephanie her word that she would return before dinner so the two of them could head for Silver Oaks together. She found her sister in an elegant salmon-pink cocktail dress and a state of great agitation. On the other hand, her husband, Ned, sat on the sofa with a martini in his hand and an utterly relaxed expression on his face.

  "Ah, there you are, Priscilla," he said. "Stephanie has been going out of her mind with worry."

  "Don't exaggerate, Ned," Stephanie said. "It's just that we're so very late."

  "So we'll miss the hors d'oeuvres. What's the big deal?"

  "It's not that - Prissy still needs to get changed."

  "I'm fine the way I am. I'm visiting my family, not attending a gala night."

  "Still," Stephanie insisted, "it never hurts to look respectable."

  "Do you mean to say I don't look respectable?"

  "Well…" Stephanie surveyed her sister's faded jeans and stretched-out blue turtleneck. "No, you don't. Sorry."

 

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