by Coralee June
The Dorms buzzed with excited chatter, and everyone lazily gossiped in the hallways since no one had to work. Pioneer Day was a fun, lazy holiday full of food and games. Cyler started it the year after Mom and Dad died. Since then, it’s grown to be one of the happiest days in the entire Providence.
Although I liked that it was the one day out of the year that people actually dressed fashionably, it was still an entire day dedicated to the people I missed most. Most of the time, I was left to sulk in my bedroom alone on Pioneer Day. I felt like I couldn’t escape the reminder that the rest of the world kept spinning while I was alone. The only thing left of my parents was an excuse to drink and miss work.
I padded in a somber mood down the tight hallway towards the dining hall. After grabbing a dismal tray of food, I noticed an absurd amount of Walker women wearing familiar dresses. My dresses.
Walkers who normally wore trousers and button-down taupe tops were now decked out in the finest garb. Bright and heavy jewelry lay delicately around their necks, and everywhere I looked, there was an outfit and a memory assaulting me. I grabbed the elbow of a passing Walker woman. She wore an amethyst gown from Ethros that was too tight around her midsection. A gown that once belonged to my Mother.
Mom wore it to the Summer Solstice when I was a little girl. I remember watching her get ready. As she looked in the mirror, her poised fingers applied makeup to her fair skin. I had cried out that I wanted to look like her, so she pretended to brush a thin veil of powder upon my cheeks. She taught me to dance in that dress. I spent the night standing on her toes while she spun me around. Then at the end of the night, I fell asleep on her shoulder by the bonfire. Dad carried me up to the old house and tucked me into my princess bedding.
“Where did you get this dress?!” I hissed while blinking back the memories. I bet the ignorant Walker woman washed it. I bet it no longer smelled of Mom’s rosewater perfume.
The Walker woman looked at me with annoyance, and the entire hall quieted at my outburst. “The woman that lives in Black Manor sent over a box of clothes for us before the Summer Solstice,” she explained while yanking her arm out of my grip.
I slammed my fist on the table and looked around the room before speaking.
“Enjoy these clothes while you can, Walkers. They were MINE and given away without my consent. I want them back in my room by the end of the day!” I screamed. How dare Ashleigh give away my belongings? I waltzed towards the exit while muttering to myself when a stout woman wearing a very familiar ruby gemstone necklace made me pause. Mother’s necklace. The necklace father gave her a few months before…
Before their death. Before I lost them.
“Give me that necklace. Right. Now,” I said through clenched teeth. My hands shook with anger.
“But—but— it was a gift to me!” She clutched at it with her greasy fingers. I wanted to break each of them so she couldn’t touch my mother’s belongings ever again. I wanted to hear the bones crack under the force of my blow.
"My father sold his grandfather's watch to buy my mother that necklace. You aren't even worthy of the chain that gemstone hangs upon," I hissed while giving her a predatory growl. “Besides, it doesn’t even fit. How’d you even get it past that giant head of yours?” I asked. I wanted to rip it off her neck and slap her. I couldn’t believe that Ashleigh was so careless to give away such precious jewelry. Especially to filthy, unworthy Walkers.
With shaky fingers, the Walker removed the necklace and handed it to me while frowning. I felt tears gather in my eyes, and I pushed my anger to the surface to prevent any from spilling down my cheeks. I put the necklace around my neck, but the comfort I hoped to feel evaporated. It felt hollow. The magic of my mother’s touch lost to the Walker. Lost to Ashleigh’s carelessness.
“Enjoy your day everyone. I want my dresses back tonight. If I have to rip them from your dead hands, I will!” I screamed before walking outside, slamming the door behind me.
Once I was away from the Dorms, I collapsed in a heap of sobs against the base of a large tree, close to town. Today was hard enough as it was, but seeing my mother’s dresses and jewelry on complete strangers was too much.
There once was a time when I would play dress up in her gowns and spend my evenings at tea parties with my dolls. I remember covering myself in her clothes and inhaling the faint scent of her perfume. I remember sobbing in my closet, grieving alone. All I had of my family were those dresses.
“Jules?” I heard Cyler ask. I raised my head from my hands and watched him approach me with caution. “What are you doing out here?”
He looked tired and withdrawn. There was an unnatural stillness about him that echoed how I felt. I knew that he preferred to avoid his feelings, which meant today he’d find somewhere to hide while the rest of us suffered. It was easier to go off the grid than confront our issues as a family.
“What do you care?” I asked. I tried to lace my words with venom, but the exhaustion caused by my tears made it difficult. I wanted to be mad, but the pain was too numbing. Grief doesn’t ever leave. It waits for your vulnerable moments. It waits until you think you’ve gotten your life under control, then it hits you with the sadness. It clings to your happiness. It steals it and leaves you feeling lonely. Abandoned.
“I care plenty, Jules. What’s wrong?” he asked again with an exasperated sigh that felt like gravel against my nerves. I don’t care what he says, he didn’t really care.
“Your little Walker Whore gave away mom’s dresses and jewelry to the other Walkers. I woke up this morning to find them all wearing her clothes. I-I wasn’t prepared for that. Not today. She had no right to do that, Cy,” I cried out. I noticed him clench his right fist in frustration.
“First, don’t fucking call her that,” he hissed. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I hated how Ashleigh controlled them so much. Even when it was me that was hurting, his first instinct was to defend her. Cyler crouched down close to me and handed me a napkin to wipe my eyes. “Second, those clothes were gathering dust in your closet, don’t you think Mom would have wanted you to give them to someone that needed them?”
I wiped my eyes, but the tears still fell. “It was still my call to make, Cyler. She had no right,” I whispered. Cyler nodded in brief understanding. His empty eyes slipped into something that almost looked like sympathy.
“You’re right. You should have been the one to make that call. I’m sorry, sis,” he said. I flinched at the nickname. He hadn’t used it in years. “But I’m still kinda glad she did it. Those women have never owned nice clothes. Mom loved making others feel beautiful,” Cyler said in a sad tone while holding out a hand to me. We stood there by the tree awkwardly. Neither of us knew what to say. Anger still simmering beneath the surface.
I wiped my face again and frowned. I’m sure the whites of my eyes were red with emotion. According to my brothers’ teasing remarks, I was never a pretty crier, that’s why I preferred anger. Anger was beautiful, in the right light.
Cyler observed me and chuckled. “You look like shit, sis.” My shoulders dropped, and I looked up at the sky while counting to ten. We were kind of doing ok, and I didn’t have the energy to ruin it by slapping him.
“Are you always this idiotic, or are you just putting in the extra effort today?” I asked while rolling my neck and adjusting my dress. I put out my arm for him to take. “Walk me to town, will you? I have business to attend to at the clinic.”
“Fine,” Cyler agreed, rolling his eyes. I hated that spending time with me was so taxing on him.
“How are you liking the Gardens?” He smirked.
“Maybe we should walk in silence. We’re actually doing pretty good today, I’d hate to ruin this lovely chat with a swift kick to your balls.”
Cyler chuckled as we walked into town. “You’re all talk Jules,” he chided.
“Might I remind you of the time I cut your hair in your sleep?” I gave him a mischievous grin. Cyler ran a rough hand through his thick, wavy mass of h
air that was so last season. I had half a mind to trim it again. I’d be doing him a favor.
As we made our way to town, our steps became slower. Neither one of us wanted to socialize or deal with the conflicting emotions of the day.
"I always hated how chipper people were on Pioneer Day," I mumbled as a drunk man sauntered by.
"It’s what they would have wanted." He let out a half-hearted sigh. His shoulders slumped, and I heard the worry in his voice. He shared my feelings, regardless if he wanted to admit it or not.
"I heard about Kindle," I added. "How was the funeral?"
"People showed up. They cried. They moved on. It’s what we all do, Jules. We all move on."
Before I could reply, Mr. Mark Caverly interrupted us. He was a nice enough gentleman, but a brown-nosing fool, if I ever knew one.
“Master Black! Mistress! It is so good to see you both…” He then started rambling on about Mother and Father.
I smiled politely. It took many years of etiquette training, but I had perfected the art of pretending to look flattered and interested while planning an escape route. God, could Mark talk. He lacked tact and the social sense, or know-how, to understand when to stop. Most of the time his unwilling audience fell asleep before he realized that he was boring them.
Mark was talking about my mother when I spotted her. Ashleigh. The little Walker that had it all. She looked around with a small, genuine smile that made me want to claw her throat out. She looked so innocent. So fucking perfect. I knew the truth—it was all a rouse. No one was that kind or that innocent. When she saw me scowling at her, I resumed my fake smile.
Ashleigh greeted us with a timid grin, and even though she was enemy number one, I was thankful for the interruption and an excuse to be on my way.
“Hello, Happy Pioneer Day,” she said in her stupidly pleasant voice. I saw Cyler’s eyes widen and his face slip into a look of pure joy. I huffed and turned around before I barfed all over his shoes at his obvious attraction to her. But something solid stopped me in my tracks.
“Well hello there, Jules,” Tallis said with a grin. “You’ve got to stop bumping into me, some will start to think you’re doing it on purpose.”
I laughed nervously while peering around at the growing crowd observing us. Mark Caverly looked like someone turned his water to wine.
Great, just what I needed, a trip to the rumor mill.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Move out of my way,” I ordered with false bravado and puffed out my chest.
Tallis gave me a determined look that I felt in my core. His bright, wild eyes glistened with promise as he took a crooked finger and traced my elbow before bending over and whispering. “You first.”
I hiked up my dress, then maneuvered myself around him after spitting in the dirt at his feet. While storming off, I felt the eyes of everyone on my back. I refused to slump my shoulders under the weight of their stares. Let them speculate. I was Jules Fucking Black.
Chapter Six
A strong hand pulled me back as I walked towards the Clinic. I whirled around and Tallis’ annoyingly smug smile greeted me. “Are you headed towards the Clinic? Mind if I join you?”
“No, I'll walk myself, thank you,” I replied while squinting my eyes at him. Now that I wasn’t trying to escape public humiliation, I could see that Tallis looked different. He slicked back his long hair and wore a button-up shirt with grey trousers. The fashionable outfit didn’t look quite right on the uncivilized Scavenger. My eyes traveled down, and I chuckled as I took in his tattered sandals; now, that was more like him.
Tallis bit his lip while rolling up his sleeves, revealing his scarred and tempting forearms. “So we’ll just both walk in the same direction, to the same destination, but not together?” he joked while falling into step with me. I looked around as some of the Dormas elders eyed us with open curiosity.
Tallis’ hand brushed mine as we navigated the small crowd of people around us. I increased the distance between us, but he closed it again. We were playing a toxic game of tug of war. In the thick of the crowd, his hands drifted to my hips, guiding me through the throng people.
“Could you walk ahead of me or something?” I hissed out in a whisper, as one of his hands drifted to my lower back for a fraction of a second. I tensed under his touch while arching my back, a subconscious response to his nearness.
Instead of responding, Tallis observed the crowd around us.
“Did you listen to a word I said? Walk ahead of me!” I ordered much louder.
“Oh! Are you talking to me?” Tallis joked, placing a steady hand on his chest. While flashing me his signature sharp-toothed smile, he moved closer once again.
I rolled my eyes in annoyance and ran a hand through my hair. “Do you see another annoying Scavenger Chief walking uncomfortably close to me?!” I snapped, causing an older woman nearby to gasp.
“Well, I just assumed it wasn’t me. You know— because we aren’t walking together,” Tallis explained with a smirk. As we continued towards the clinic, he threw enthusiastic waves to the curious onlookers. Other dressed-up Scavengers exploring town bowed in respect towards us.
“What in Dasos are you wearing, by the way? And where is Gordon?” I asked finally, while eyeing the crowd and adjusting my dress. We’ll for sure be the talk of Dormas by sundown. Especially if the gossipy Lois Caverly saw us.
Tallis smiled triumphantly at my question before inching even closer.
“Do you like?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes. “Kemper gave them to me. I figured dressing the part would help the assimilation of our people. But I’ll admit. This shirt is a bit too tight.” He readjusted the collar of his shirt, wincing in discomfort, and I muffled a laugh. Too tight indeed. The shirt left little to the imagination, and I found myself tracing each dip in his torso with my eyes.
“I brought Gordon to the Clinic earlier, I was looking for you,” he said, answering my earlier question.
“You shouldn’t have left him alone with Maverick.” Gordon was as bratty as Maverick was moody. If we didn’t get there soon, they’d tear each other to shreds. I picked up the pace.
“No need to worry, Agapimenos. Gordon will be on his best behavior,” Tallis assured me. “Besides, I have another riddle for you.”
Against my will, tears stung my eyes as thoughts of Dad filled me. After all that had already happened today, somehow it was exactly what I needed. I craved his memory. I craved the feeling I got when he praised me. I missed him so much.
“We-well go on. Spit it out,” I choked out, as Tallis looked at me from the corner of his eye. I clasped my hands behind my back and took in a deep breath. His brow dipped in concern, but he kept walking.
“What belongs to you, but others use more?” Tallis hooked his thumbs through his belt loops as we kept walking. His mouth parted slightly as I mumbled over the words again and again. I wanted to prolong solving the problem and surround myself with the memories.
Just as we arrived at the Clinic, the answer came to me. “My name.”
“It still hurts!” Gordon complained for the fifteenth time. Maverick looked up at the tiled ceiling of the Clinic in frustration. Exhaling, he lowered his gaze and forced a smile.
“Gordon, it’s going to be uncomfortable. It’ll be awhile before you get the hang of it, too. I made some overall functionality changes. The socket was ill-fitting which caused some weight-bearing pressure. I increased the surface area so the forces could be distributed evenly,” Maverick explained in an annoyed tone.
Gordon gave him a confused stare. “Basically, he re-sized it,” I explained with a wave of my hand. After a lifetime of translating Maverick’s nerd-speak, it was second nature to me.
“Do you experience any phantom pain?” Maverick asked while ignoring me. Tallis walked around the room and observed the Clinic equipment with interest. His curious stare and wide eyes made it seem as if he had never seen anything so sophisticated before. My eyes kept flickering to him and h
is excited expressions.
“It…” Gordon began while looking shyly at me. His cheeks blushed in embarrassment, and I noticed his fingers twitch. I should have looked away and given him privacy. It’s what any decent person would do. But Gordon needed to learn that the world was cruel and people wouldn’t cater to him. I gave him an expectant steadfast stare while raising my eyebrow. His shoulders sagged in defeat.
“It hurts when I touch it, or sometimes when I—when I move a certain way,” he said in an embarrassed tone.
“That's very normal,” Maverick replied. “Phantom pain is caused by mixed signals from your brain or spinal cord. Sometimes certain activities can trigger it. I’m going to give you some beta blockers to help, but I also want you to start repositioning your residual limb at night. You can prop it up on a pillow or cushion.” Maverick started flipping through his Tablet. “I also have some massage techniques I’ll give you.”
“Fine, can we go now?” Gordon whined. Tallis opened his mouth like he was about to speak, but I beat him to it.
“Didn’t I say you needed to work on your attitude? Say thank you to the nice man that took time out of his day to help you,” I ordered. Gordon looked over to Tallis for help, but he just crossed his muscular arms over his chest and shrugged.
“You heard her,” he said.
“Thanks—I guess,” Gordon said to Maverick who was already back at his desk and wholly absorbed in whatever project had captured his attention. Pioneer Day was the hardest on Maverick. He always escaped his grief through knowledge. It’s how we became so distant.
“We better get going,” Tallis said to me while Gordon made his way over to the door. I noticed he was limping, and I debated on asking Maverick to triple check his leg.
“See you tomorrow?” My hopeful voice sounded too bright to my ears. I had to bite my tongue to punish it for being too obvious.