by Ann Pino
“It’s eating at him,” Julilla said.
“He doesn’t show it.”
“What do you want him to do, cry? I bet there’s a lot of hurt that doesn’t show on your face either, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel it.”
May and Doc were making the rounds. After a brief stop at Zach’s bedside, they went to the unconscious soldier where they stood for a long time, heads together, speaking in such soft tones it was impossible to understand their words even from a few feet away.
“I wonder what that’s all about.” Cassie said.
“No telling around here. You sure you can’t spring me?”
“You can leave anytime you think you won’t pass out.”
Galahad came over and reminded Julilla that she was too valuable to the group to take risks with her health. He promised to tie her to the nearest wall post if that’s what it would take to get her to rest. Then he turned to Cassie. Showing nothing in his face or gesture to indicate what was on his mind, he said, “Come with me. I’ve got something I want to show you.”
* * *
Cassie followed him down the hall.
“Try not to make any noise,” he said, as he opened the stairwell door. “If we run into anyone, do whatever I do and play along.”
Cassie gathered her cumbersome skirt in one hand. Was she finally going to be allowed in on his secret? She started after him, following the beam of his flashlight. They passed the third and fourth floors where everyone lived, then the fifth and six where visitors stayed. As they passed the tenth, Cassie felt her thighs burning. She wasn’t used to so much climbing, but Galahad didn’t slow down.
The stairwell ended at the twentieth floor and Galahad opened the fire door so she could go in ahead of him. In the play of his flashlight, this floor seemed no different from the ones downstairs except that it wasn’t dingy with use and had a hushed feel of cobwebs and abandonment.
“We’re almost there.” He led her to another stairwell and took a set of keys out of his pocket. “There’s a way up without this extra hassle,” he explained, “But I never use it. This way I’ve got one last chance to make sure no one’s behind me.”
Intrigued, Cassie followed him through the door. They went up two more flights to another locked door. Galahad fumbled with his keys, pulled open the door and motioned Cassie through. She stepped into a dark, silent space that felt different from the floors below, but she couldn’t immediately say why. Galahad locked the door behind them then placed the flashlight in her hand. “Look around.”
She shone the beam in an arc, illuminating an oak-paneled room with inlaid marble floor, Persian rugs, and a marble fireplace. Paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and sofas, plush chairs and small tables were artfully arranged for relaxation and conversation.
“Presidential Suite,” Galahad said. “As far as I know I’ve got the only key.”
He led her through the rooms, showing her the dining room with its crystal chandelier, and the private kitchen full of gleaming appliances of brushed steel. He took her past two bedrooms with four-poster beds and feather pillows, then into to a dark-paneled room lined with bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes. This room looked like it had been used recently. Books, papers, pens, and an empty teacup competed for space on the burled desk under the window and books were left open on the small table between the leather sofa and overstuffed chair.
“It’s beautiful,” Cassie said in wonderment. She looked around while Galahad turned on some battery-powered lanterns. “I had no idea there was anyplace like this here. Or anywhere any more.”
“That’s why I come here.” He switched off his flashlight and set it aside. “I like to think I’m a civilized person. Down there, we have to act like barbarians to stay alive, but up here I can pretend that I have the luxury of being a decent human being.”
Cassie sensed he was telling her something significant and that it held the key to the mysteries of his behavior, but she couldn’t think clearly with him standing over her like this, with the lanterns casting shadows on the planes of his face and illuminating his eyes like stars. She hoped being civilized included kissing, and a lot more.
Mistaking the reason for her silence, Galahad gestured toward the bookcases. “I’ve been trying to read the classics our civilization was supposedly built on. I used to think if I could understand our origins I could help get us back on track again, but these books as full of barbarism as our own damn lobby.”
He pulled her to the nearest bookcase. “Look here: The Iliad. Can’t talk about Western Civilization without Homer, right? But the plot of the book centers around a soldier who won’t fight because someone stole his girl. The girl who was stolen had no say in the matter; she was a sex slave, spoils of war. Did we really base our civilization on people who thought it was okay to treat women like that?”
“Some guys still do now,” Cassie pointed out.
“And then there’s Plato. Have you ever tried to read The Republic? It’s just a bunch of people talking without ever taking action.”
“Sounds like our pre-Telo politicians.”
“And finally there’s the Bible. Unpunished incest, unpunished murder, but God will hate you forever if you eat a clam.”
“Okay,” Cassie said, frowning. “So you’re saying the past is no help to us?”
Galahad took her hand. “It is, just not in the way I thought it would be. I began reading these books to find out how to be civilized, but I’m starting to think the only thing that makes us civilized is prosperity.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You wanted to be a conservationist, right? You were into eco things, save the animals and all that.”
“I was a vegetarian too, except when my mom cooked salmon.”
“But you eat anything you can get now, even pets.”
“What am I supposed to do, starve?”
“You’re starving anyway.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the bones jutting out from her wrist. “I’ve got something for you.”
As he led her to the kitchen, he continued talking. “You lowered your standards because those standards were luxuries. Only people who are rich in food can say what they will and will not eat. Only those whose lives aren’t in danger can talk about whether it’s wrong to steal or kill. Our ancestors did bad things because it was the only way to survive long enough to bring a more civilized generation into existence. Now that it’s fallen apart, we’re back at square one.”
“So are we bad or good?”
Galahad rummaged through a cabinet. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s much difference between the two. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
Cassie did as instructed and felt him place something smooth and heavy in her cupped palms. Her heart raced at the possibilities. Was there really food in this place?
“You can look now.”
Cassie opened her eyes and blinked back sudden tears. It was a box of chocolate.
* * *
She could barely restrain herself from devouring the chocolate while Galahad made tea over a soda can stove on the balcony. She sat in a patio chair with the box in her lap and told herself that the chocolate wasn’t going anywhere, it was really all hers, and she was not going to make a fool of herself by inhaling it. Galahad admired civilized people and she would act like one even though her mouth already watered with anticipation. She tried to focus her attention on the colorful light sticks Galahad had hung from a wire along the balcony railing. In the cool of the night the reds, greens and yellows made her think of Christmas, and when Galahad handed her a cup of tea and sat down beside her, she thought it must be a holiday of some sort and if it wasn’t, she would declare it so.
“Aren’t you going to eat your chocolate?”
“I was waiting for you, so we could share. I’m not a barbarian.”
“That’s what I like about you. You could go around dirty, eat the potatoes instead of plant them, steal Doc’s medicines and sell
them for food. Hell, you could sell yourself for food. Plenty of girls do, and some of the boys do, too. But every day you try to make things a little more civilized around this place.”
“I’m not as good as you think,” she said, fumbling with the ribbon on the box. “I could do better.”
“So could all of us, but when you have a bad day, you pick yourself up and try again. You refuse to let the Telo win. That’s why I love you.”
Cassie had popped a chocolate into her mouth and now she turned to him, wondering if she had heard him right.
“I’m sorry I’m so bad at showing it.” He stood and went to the balcony railing. “It’s just that I’ll be nineteen this fall. You deserve better than a guy who’ll be dead in a few months.”
Cassie shoved another chocolate into her mouth, embarrassed that at this critical moment she could care about something like food. “Any of us could die, anytime.”
“A guy should be able to promise forever to the girl he loves.”
“Forever isn’t our reality.”
He rested his forehead on his clasped hands.
She went to stand beside him. “So that’s it? Do you think this is The Iliad and a girl has no right to choose for herself?”
Galahad straightened and looked at her.
“It’s my choice to love you. Even if you die half an hour from now, the time spent with you will have been worth it.”
He took her hand, twining his fingers through hers. “You really mean that?” He folded her in his arms and kissed her, slowly backing her against the patio railing.
Cassie returned his kisses hungrily, forgetting about the chocolate as she lost herself in the sensuous heat of his mouth on hers. She felt him unclasp the hooks of her bodice, then the slow track of his fingers across her flesh. “Take me to bed.”
“Don’t you want to think about it first?”
“It’s all I’ve thought about for weeks.”
He took her by the hand and led her into one of the bedrooms, where she felt suddenly awkward and was glad her heavy theater dress was designed to come off easily. More puzzling were the buttons and clasps of his shirt and costume pants, especially with him watching as she fumbled to undress him. She didn’t know what she was doing, but surely he wouldn’t hold that against her. Or was it her too-thin body that was distracting him? He knew she was starving. Why did he look at her like that?
“Is this your first time?”
Cassie jerked away, glad the room was dim and he couldn’t see the embarrassment flushing her face. She had done something wrong and ruined everything. She threw herself onto the bed. “I didn’t know it would be a problem.”
He unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and dropped it on the floor. “That’s not what I meant.” He joined her on the bed and kissed her. “I just don’t want to hurt you if it is. I want you to enjoy it.”
For a moment, Cassie could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t sound ridiculous. Of course it would hurt. Her friends had told her it would. But when you loved a boy, it didn’t matter, since how could there be a second time without a first? No matter what his past experiences might be, he was nervous just like she was, and she felt a sudden surge of confidence. She reached for the waistband of his pants. “Don’t talk, unless it’s to tell me how to get these crazy theater pants off you.”
* * *
Cassie lay spooned in the hollow of Galahad’s body, not dissatisfied but puzzled as to why people made such a fuss about sex. She didn’t feel any different, other than a certain wonderment that she had been able to give him so much pleasure.
Galahad nuzzled her neck and ran a hand up her thigh. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“Probably.”
He wadded a corner of the sheet and pressed it between her legs. “Seems like a design flaw that the female body should work like that.”
“I just feel bad we stained the sheets.”
“We’ll use the bed in the other room next time.”
She nestled deeper into the curve of his body. “So there will be a next time? You’re not going to be all weird and ignore me like you did those other times?”
“I’ll never treat you that way again.” His arms tightened around her. “You were right. We both know the score.”
“You might outlive me,” Cassie reminded him. “Alex is almost twenty and seems fine, but Zach is dying and he’s only seventeen. And then there’s all that weird stuff going on with the growth hormone research. Someone knew something at the end. Maybe there’s a cure and we’ll find it.”
“I hope so, but it’s probably best if we live like there isn’t. That way we won’t get complacent.”
“Either way, I want to know what’s going on. Don’t you?”
Galahad sat up and stretched. “I know I want to see you eat the rest of that chocolate. Then I want to sleep all day holding you.”
She had forgotten about the chocolate, left out on the balcony. And how long had it been since either of them had slept? “You think they’ll miss us if we stay up here all day?”
“We’ll just sleep for a little while. And when we go back downstairs I’ll help you get your things and you can move into my room.”
Happiness surged through her and the last of her doubts vanished. “So I really am your girlfriend?”
“Oh hell, Cassie. If there was a priest, minister, judge or rabbi left on this planet, I’d ask you to be my wife.”
EXCERPT FROM CASSIE’S JOURNAL:
I’ve moved into Galahad’s room. Or I guess I should say Jay’s room, since he asked me to call him by his real name. I think I’ll keep calling him Galahad in public, though, since using his real name in private makes me feel special.
We slept half the day, but everyone was so tired from the fight, the funeral and everything else that only Doc, Rochelle, and David seem to have missed us. No one knows where we were, but I feel like everyone knows what we were up to. It’s enough to make me wonder if it’s written on my face that I’m no longer a virgin. But the more likely clue is the way I can’t keep my hands off him. I’m acting very silly and what’s worse is I don’t care. The whole day has been wrapped in a golden fog that blurs the edges of things and makes me love everyone.
Craziest of all is the way I need to touch everything Jay has touched. If he drinks out of a glass, I want to drink from the same glass. If he eats off a plate, I want to taste his food off that same plate, using his fork. I touch the doorknobs he has touched, I rest my head on his pillow after he has gotten out of bed, and I swear I would wear his clothes if only they fit.
It seems horrible to be so happy with Leila’s ashes scattered across the overpass, but I can’t help myself. I think she would’ve wanted this for me. She, more than I, believed we should love while we can.
And so I’ll continue drinking out of Jay’s cups and singing to myself as I go about my chores. Later tonight we’ll go back to our private penthouse and make love. I want to eat him like a box of chocolate and draw him into every cell of my body like a virus. Then he would be with me always. Sort of like the Telo.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Cassie strolled into the clinic humming softly. Doc had asked her to cover while he and Rochelle worked on a mysterious project. Cassie was late, but what could they do about it? Fire her? She giggled at the silly notion and allowed her thoughts to drift back to the previous night. She and Jay had filled the penthouse Jacuzzi, tossed in some light sticks and frolicked in the glowing water. Then they tested the merits of the feather bed in the other bedroom and afterward licked strawberry preserves off silver spoons and each other, requiring a return trip to the Jacuzzi to wash off the sticky mess. She didn’t know what she had done to deserve these stolen moments of decadence, but for the first time since the pandemic she laughed with the same happy abandon that she used to.
Julilla’s scowl as she entered the ward brought her cheerful humming to a stop.
“Where h
ave you been?” Julilla looked up from taking a boy’s temperature. “I told them I could cover for a few minutes, but I only know sports medicine, not this rash and fever crap.”
Cassie glanced at the boy who lay covered in a faint bloom of pink. “I’m sorry. They didn’t say I had to be on time. Something came up.”
“Something of Galahad’s, I bet.” She handed over the thermometer and a stethoscope. “Girls in love are all alike. No sense of responsibility.”
Cassie pouted. Why was Julilla ruining her beautiful day? “Well, I’m here now, so what’s the big deal? It’s not like anyone ever knows what time it really is. We just guess. I guessed wrong. Sue me.”
“I might, if there were any lawyers left,” Julilla said as she made her way back to bed. “I’ve probably set my recovery back by days.”
“Anyone as grouchy as you can’t be too bad off.” Cassie scanned the room, wondering how many patients Julilla had examined and where she should begin her rounds. An empty mattress caught her eye. The wounded soldier was gone. No wonder Julilla was in a bad mood. “He didn’t make it, did he?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
Cassie gave her a quizzical look. Julilla’s curt gesture filled her with dread, but she went to the door to the next room and opened it.
The soldier lay strapped to the improvised operating table, his body pale as new wax and a tube hanging out of a vein, dripping blood into an empty gasoline canister on the floor. Doc stood at his head, his arms red to the elbows and dotted with flecks of white, while May hovered at his shoulder, pointing to things in the sawed-open cranium. “You’ll need to cut the corpus callosum. It’s that thing in the middle like a rubber band.”
At another table, Rochelle was doing something with lab equipment that must have come from May’s shop because the hotel had never had Bunsen burners and test tubes before. When she saw Cassie, she turned almost as white as the dead soldier. “Mundo said it was okay.”