by Nancy Widrew
Janet swallowed. “Rachel said I should watch out for you. That you weren’t loyal, were sneaky, a two-timing traitor. And now you’re telling me lies, crazy stuff just to scare me.”
“Why would I want to do that? I’m just trying to warn you before it’s too late. There’s still a window of opportunity to turn things around.”
Backing up, Janet put more distance between herself and Karen. “I think you have a hidden motive. You’d like to stir up trouble, wouldn’t you? Maybe break up my family or help you do something I’d regret. But I won’t, and, furthermore, I think you should stay away from Jon. Randy too.”
Taken aback, Karen reached out, her eyes pools of sincerity. “He’s your son. He has to come first. In another year he’ll be too far gone. You mustn’t let that happen.”
Soundlessly, as if dropped from a cloud, Jon tiptoed in. It was time for him to gather the berries for tomorrow’s breakfast. Janet cradled his head against her hip in a protective show of affection.
Jon squirmed and pulled away. “I itch,” he said, reaching behind, scratching some indeterminate spot. He lowered his pants to show his mother and both women shriek at the revelation. On his buttocks, an inch above the cleft, grew what looked like a thumb. Karen looked closer and noticed a curl at the end, reminding her of a piglet’s tail.
Janet’s lips trembled as she finally faced the facts. She stroked her son’s face, his sweet, funny, odd, beautiful face. “It’s nothing,” she said, her voice a bare whisper. “It will go away on its own. Just don’t touch it.” Reaching up to a shelf, she pulled down the berry pail and handed it to Jon, sending him on his way. Moments later, she looked at Karen with hate in her eyes and the word bitch on her tongue.
Karen, walked off, afraid she’d made matters worse. It wasn’t her problem, she told herself, and took some solace in knowing she had tried.
As she approached her quarters, Karen cringed to see Rahm on the path, waiting for her, blocking the way. He grabbed her arm and yanked her into a recess, his eyes flashing like molten fire from the torch’s light above.
“What do you want? Let go of me.”
They stood face-to-face, he holding her shoulders so she couldn’t move. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “Something’s up.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do, but if you’re not going to tell me, I have other ways to find out. But first, you and I have business to clear up.” He moved his hands to her waist, circling them in back, pulling her close. He kissed her mouth, now open, on the verge of a scream.
“How dare you,” she yelled, still pinned, wishing she could slap him. “Haven’t you done enough already?”
Like a cunning fox, he looked down, honing in on the budding life between them, proof of the bond they shared. “It’s mine,” he said. “We’ll always be connected through it.”
“No! It’s not yours. It’s Jeremy’s.”
He leaned in, his breath tickling her ear. “Stop fighting me, Karen. We both know the truth.”
Karen wriggled, struggling to free herself.
“It’s mine, all right. That’s why you’re so mad at me. But I see that I failed to fix matters between us. I hope in time you’ll understand and forgive me.”
“Understand? Forgive? Never!” She jammed her elbows against his arms breaking his hold and ran to her room. She sat in the rocking chair, allowing its seesaw motion to soothe her rankled nerves. When Jeremy arrived, minutes later, with news of their imminent departure, Karen smiled in relief, particularly after witnessing another of Jon’s mutations and hearing Jeremy’s story of Rahm’s ability to make “spider rope.”
“And one other thing,” said Jeremy. “Randy’s coming with us. I hope that’s okay. He knows a shortcut.”
“It’s more than okay, it’s great. I was hoping he’d come. Better that than having him expose our plans to Rahm. Would you mind him living with us till he’s older?”
“Funny you should ask. Randy and I already discussed it. We’ll figure out his living arrangements when we’re home—our real home.”
They went over the evening’s strategy, step-by-step in precise detail. With their tactics in place, Jeremy nonchalantly added, “I’d like to say good-bye to Mary. You know, none of this would be possible without her.”
Karen nodded, pretending not to care.
“Why don’t you rest?” he suggested before heading off. “We have a long night before us.”
Karen resumed rocking, but it no longer served as a balm. Something troubling had seeped into her thoughts, something she yearned to repress but could not. Over and over, she tried pushing it back to that place in her mind where the muck of the day is best left forgotten. After all, Jeremy’s business is his not mine, she avowed. Yet she couldn’t heed her own advice and, heart pounding, stormed off propelled to uncover the truth behind his feelings for Mary.
With no sign of him in Suburbia, she checked Downtown and the fertility area. No one there. She began to click and noticed a vague outline before it disappeared down the trail to the chapel, a place she’d seldom gone since she refused to attend Rachel’s religious services.
Creeping up, sticking to the shadows, she found Jeremy and Mary standing beside a horseshoe-shaped wreath made of filigreed rock. They stood together, hand in hand, like a bride and groom, surrounded by cave flowers of delicate, woven designs. Above them an anthodite chandelier sparkled with twisted crystalline rocks, some quill-like, some feathery, jutting out in all directions. Karen held her breath to listen.
“I’m pregnant,” said Mary, brimming with excitement and bouncing on her toes. “I know I’ve said this before, as Helene’s only been too happy to point out, but this time it’s different. I feel it growing. And it’s yours! Brian and I … well, we haven’t … we haven’t done anything.”
Jeremy grabbed Mary’s wrists. “Listen Mary. You’re a nurse. Even I know it’s too soon to tell, but regardless, Karen and I are leaving tonight. Why don’t you come with us? With me!”
“What?”
“I mean it.”
Mary shook her head no and cried tears of pain, of impending loss, mixed with joy. She nestled against his chest, overwhelmed. “That’s lovely, Jeremy. Lovely but crazy.” She wiped her eyes before getting down to the cold facts. “I’m almost a decade older than you,” she said. “You may not care about that now, but in time you would. Besides, I’ve already told you, I can never leave here.”
“But I love you.”
“And I love you too, but I still can’t.” Mary reached up and pulled him close. As they shared a passionate kiss, Karen clutched her throat and stifled a sob. The kiss went on and on, and Karen, seeing and hearing more than she could tolerate, zoomed off, stumbling down the passageway, her legs jerky, as if they belonged to someone else. Now weeping openly, she bumped into Brian without bothering to apologize.
“Hey!” he yelled after her. “You didn’t say sorry.”
Karen kept going and switched to a run, failing to acknowledge his request.
Chapter 24
Karen collapsed in her room where she managed to pull herself together by repeatedly counting backwards from one hundred. When Jeremy finally returned, he found her as he had left her, still in the rocking chair, but now with features as unreadable as a blank billboard on a highway.
Jeremy bent down and pecked her cheek. “Mary sends her best and wishes us luck.” Karen continued to stare ahead. “And look what I got.” Reaching in his pocket, Jeremy pulled something out, shining its light in her eyes. “It’s our flashlight. I found it in the storage area and the batteries still work. Can you imagine?”
As a delaying tactic, Karen crossed and uncrossed her legs. Unable to decide on a suitable approach, she settled on fixing her face in what she hoped passed for normal. “What about the other flashlight?” she said. “Didn’t we have two?”
“Yeah, but I only found one.”
“What about the hardhats? Did you
see them?”
“I did, but they won’t do us any good. The carbide’s all spent, and someone crushed the lamps for good measure. But don’t worry. The way I feel at this moment, I could fly if I had to. Listen,” he said. “We’d better get some rest. In shifts, of course, since we don’t have an alarm. Why don’t you go first? You look drained.” He placed a hand under her chin and tipped her head up to get a better look. “Hey, you okay?”
“Okay as I could be under the circumstances.” She closed her eyes and turned her head so that Jeremy couldn’t see the single tear running down her cheek. Without another word, she removed her watch, passed it to Jeremy, and climbed into bed, using the blanket as a shield.
“Goodnight,” he said. “Sleep well.”
She ignored his words, hoping her silence signaled a rebuke. Overwhelmed and exhausted, she drifted away to a black, distant landscape, then sunny skies, and finally peace.
Too soon, Karen felt a tug on her shoulders.
“Wake up,” he said.
Karen groaned. “All right. I’m up. What time is it?”
“After midnight.”
“Really? You didn’t have to let me sleep this long.”
“That’s okay. You need it more than I do. Just wake me at 2:00. You won’t fall asleep or anything?”
“No chance. I’ll be fine.” As Jeremy settled in, Karen returned the watch to her wrist, then marched in place to alleviate any kinks in her body. Sensing a weakness around her middle, she used one of Jeremy’s long-sleeved sweatshirts to bind her abdomen. She tightened the sleeves. There, that’s better, she thought, feeling the baby now safely tucked inside.
She waited a half hour before striking a match. Jeremy lay asleep on his side—his favorite position. A strand of hair crossed his face, and she felt tempted to push it away but held back, not wanting to wake him. He looks so sweet, she mused, picturing him as he was when they’d first met, his face relaxed and unlined, basking in the sun on the college quadrangle. Suddenly, she felt afraid and dropped the match before the flame singed her fingers.
As if she were watching snippets of home movies, she drummed up replays of life on the outside. Could they actually pick up where they had left off and go on as if nothing had happened? No. Of course not. But could they make peace with betrayals from both sides? The baby kicked and she bit down on a nail, something she hadn’t done in months. Hearing a noise, she jumped and turned to confront the intruder.
“It’s me,” said Randy. “I couldn’t sleep. Isn’t it time yet?”
Karen’s face switched from dismay to alarm as she read the dial on her watch: 2:12. “Dear Lord,” she said. “I’m late.” She promptly woke her husband with a warning to hurry and the news that Randy was here, ready to go. Jeremy felt for his shoes and laced them up while Karen berated herself for her slipup, an error she decided to keep to herself.
Like trespassers, they slunk through the silent chamber with members asleep in their private niches. Karen wondered if there was anyone she’d miss. Maybe Norman, she decided, despite his half-truths, and—oddly enough—even screwy, selfish Helene. Despite all her faults, she had a straightforward honesty that Karen found refreshing.
They were outside Rahm and Rachel’s quarters when Jeremy yanked on Karen’s arm. “Hold on,” he mouthed silently, his face outlined by a nearly burned-out torch nestled in an overhead crevice. His hand held a large rock. Karen’s throat tightened as she begged him with a telling look not to kill them. Ignoring her pleas, he entered his enemies’ chamber, pumping the rock up and down, glaring at the sleeping couple. Karen watched from behind, telling herself that despite all his human frailties, Jeremy was not a murderer; still her eyes flooded with relief when he placed the rock on the ground and exchanged it for Rahm’s shoe. Reaching inside, he removed the insert, transferring it to a pocket.
In the passageway, Randy stood trembling, a line of sweat on his forehead as if he were running a fever. Jeremy shook his head sideways to indicate he didn’t follow through with his plan. Randy exhaled.
They passed through the storage area, again in chaos due to another round of Helene’s frenzied behavior, making it impossible to step clear of the mess. Farther on, the fertility area presented more of a problem, and Karen sent out a high-pitched note to check if it was in use.
“No one there,” she said, along with her thumb and forefinger forming an okay sign.
Jeremy took a moment to pause before the stone statues and snickered, “Stupid dirty idols.” He pulled Rahm’s insert from his pocket and flung it toward Tloc, congratulating himself with a raised fist when a chunk of the god’s headdress fell to the ground.
When they neared the lake, Jeremy turned on the flashlight and moved the metal rod in an arc, searching for his target. Since he had already suggested this to his co-conspirators, all three ran in the direction of the peat with its prize bonus, wild mushrooms. They dropped down, rolling in the damp moss until their bodies were painted with shiny, green particles.
“Am I covered enough?” asked Karen, plucking at her clothes. The extra light allowed her to see the smile of approval on her husband’s face.
“You’re fine,” he told her, “but the effect won’t last long so we’ve got to move fast.”
Reaching the shore first, Randy stepped forward and pointed. “We’ll be taking the rowboat,” he said as Karen raised and lowered her shoulders, her optimistic air replaced with one of confusion. “You’ll have to trust me from here on.” He moved aside to let the twosome climb aboard first. With everyone settled, he began rowing as Karen, clueless, stared from the opposite plank.
Randy continued speaking. “I know you’re both aware of the cliff face. That’s our destination.”
Like a startled turtle, Jeremy’s head folded into his neck. “What are you talking about? I’ve already checked it out. It’s too high. Too sheer.”
Karen shuddered, realizing her life lay in the hands of a twelve-year old.
Randy placed the oars in their metal collars. The boat drifted in the black water. “Only three of us know everything: Rahm, Norman, and me, and I swore I wouldn’t tell. I guess that makes me a traitor and a liar.” He sucked in his lip, swallowed, and began rowing again.
The current helped propelled the small craft to the opposite shore. After mooring it, the threesome walked among large formations which Randy called cave trees. The trunks of the “trees” climbed far higher than Jeremy’s head and ended in a canopy of angular shapes from the interlocking branches. Fungi grew around the base of each structure in a multitude of colors, so many they would have pleased the pickiest of artists.
“Try not to touch the moldy stuff,” said Randy. “It’ll give you … you know … diarrhea.”
“Great,” said Karen, placing her hands in her pockets. Jeremy, holding the flashlight, paid careful attention to where he placed his feet. Minutes later they came to a dead end with a solid wall. Jeremy shined the light, but it disappeared just a few feet above, telling him little. He looked at Randy.
“This is it,” the boy said. “The short cut. Straight up for half a mile.”
Karen gasped, struggling not to take her frustrations out on a child, but she had had enough. “Are you crazy?” she said, touching the wall, loose calcite and mud smudging her fingertips.
Randy’s face turned cornstarch white. Immediately, Karen regretted her words, knowing how hard he’d been trying to appear brave and adult-like. But was he just an untested neophyte, all talk no payoff, afraid of failure and letting others down? Does he actually know what he was doing?
“Pass me the flashlight,” said Randy. “I told you I’d get you up, and I will.”
Jeremy took a step, followed by Karen. Randy directed the beam to what looked like a dangling vine and jerked it off the wall, offering it to Jeremy who twisted and turned it in his hand. “What’s the hell is this thing?” He gave a yank, but it remained firm yet supple and strong as cable wire.
“I told you yesterday,” said Ra
ndy. “Spider rope.”
Jeremy squeezed his eyes. “Yeah, but I never expected anything like this.” He rubbed his fingers together. “It tickles,” he said, peeling the rope from his skin. He passed it to Karen.
“I feel like I’m being stuck with a thousand tiny needles,” she said. “Sticky ones.”
“But that’s the best part,” said Randy. “Watch me.” Pinching the two ends of the rope together, he performed a quick demonstration. “It may stick to your skin, but it sticks way better to itself.”
“Like Velcro,” said Jeremy. “This stuff’s amazing. I bet you could sell it. Make a fortune.”
“What’s Velcro?”
Jeremy held up a forefinger. “Remind me tomorrow and I’ll show you.”
Karen, not as impressed, turned to the practical side. “How’s all this going to help us?”
Randy’s eyebrows rose, forming two equilateral triangles. “Easy,” he said. “Rahm and I have been working on a web. We’re almost done. You see, Norman needed a quick way to reach the top on his own. Rahm and I—we can use our hands and feet and be up in no time, but Norman can’t do it so fast. And he prefers the long way—the one we used when you followed me.” He turned to Karen. She met his eyes, staring right back with dead-on precision, too overwrought by the imminent climb to feel shamed by her subterfuge.
“Anyway, Rahm figured it out. He anchored a spider rope around a boulder at the top. Then we waited, and sure enough the wind blew the loose end across the wall where it stuck. You know, like with a real spider web. Then Rahm made lots more rope, and I’ve been helping him secure the connecting links. Another twenty feet and we’d be finished.”
“So how do we get to where you left off?” asked Jeremy. “The wall’s so dammed slick. No place to grip on to.”
“I worked it out,” said Randy. “I’ll go first to double-check the connections and throw you the dropline.”
“The what?” shrieked Karen, reprimanding herself for yelling.