Glistening Haven: A Shape Shifting Dystopian Boxset

by Jill Cooper

He squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Will the tea be ready soon?” Susan asked.

  Diane nodded. “It should be in a minute.”

  “Good,” Susan patted her knee with a big smile. “We’ll sit over muffins and you can tell me about your new jobs. And I’ll tell you all about my big Tupperware party next week. Wouldn’t it be nice to get out and meet some of your neighbors?”

  *****

  Susan sat outside at Jack’s Soda Jerk with two malt shakes. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Megan was nothing but punctual, so Susan expected her to show up in a moment’s time.

  As she waited for her friend, she primped her hair and took a sip of her beverage. She drank it slowly; the money Jeff gave her each month to spend on frivolous things was nearly depleted. In a few days, however, it would be a new month and she could splurge again. Susan thought a nice tube of lipstick might be nice, or maybe new pantyhose.

  The air was soft on her skin and the sun was shining brightly. Many people were out that day and Susan smiled at a few she knew. Across the street, at the park, a few boys flew kites and some older boys busied themselves with hula hoops. Susan remembered being young, being able to spin her hips like that. She loved life, all stages of it, and New Haven 56 was a great place to live. Maybe how she got there wasn’t so great, but after so many years, Susan was grateful for the chance to be normal, to get married, and have wonderful children.

  Glancing up past her table’s umbrella, Susan could see the two blues of the day’s sky. One was a natural soft blue with gentle clouds drifting past. Below that a darker, ominous blue dome pulsated in static intervals, keeping New Haven safe in its bubble. Even when Susan could manage to forget what she was, that damn bubble always reminded her. She sighed at the thought and heard the quick steps of a woman’s pumps.

  Megan was a tall, scrawny woman with long red hair. Today it was pushed back with a white headband, and her makeup choices seemed a bit dramatic for running simple errands. She sat and sipped her drink. “So, so, tell me everything!”

  “It’s good to see you too, sweetheart.” Susan smirked.

  Megan sighed. “All right, all right, hello, hello. Now tell me.” She waved her fingers in the air.

  “You promise you’re not going to tell Lawrence Stark?”

  “I…give you my word.” Megan held up her hand. “Girl Scouts’ honor, darling.”

  “And I can trust you this time?” Susan pursed her lips and her fingernails twiddled against the glass counter top.

  “What is ‘this time’ nonsense? When have I ever led you astray?”

  “How about that PTA meeting last year? You told me everyone was going to be critiquing Mr. Banks.”

  Megan put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Well, you were spot-on with your criticism.”

  “Hmpf.” Susan crossed her arms. She pressed her lips together, but her eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “I promise.” Megan patted her hand. “Just tell me, what are they like?”

  “Sad and afraid.” Susan’s face darkened as she thought about the Franklins and their small children. “He is going to work in the grocery market and she will be working mother’s hours at the Templeton Pharmacy.”

  “Most do start out there.” Megan rolled the straw through her fingers absently. “And they were…nice?”

  Susan nodded. “I invited them to my party next week.”

  Megan grinned. “Wonderful! I love new people to interrogate, I mean, be friends with.”

  “Their children are small and I don’t think they are old enough to know the significance of this place, at least not yet. But they were well-behaved. They said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ when I gave them a muffin.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. So many children are not brought up properly these days at all, are they?”

  “Certainly not. It used to be the norm, when our two were small.” Susan sighed. “Anyway, you were right. They were trapped by the three bounty hunters and brought here. The children have the marks on them.”

  Megan sighed. “Oh, poor things. Poor poor things.”

  Susan cleared her throat. “And they brought news of the outside, but you must promise, promise not to tell!”

  Megan nodded several times, her eyes going wide with curiosity. “I do, I do. I won’t even tell my George!”

  “Your dog doesn’t exactly have loose lips, Megan.”

  “No, but I do tell him most everything and who knows what he barks to the neighbors.”

  Susan giggled. “They were living in Ohio, in a small suburb of Cincinnati.”

  “Like that WKRP show? Oh, nice! What was it like? Were all the buildings destroyed? Are they living in ruins?”

  Susan’s eyes darkened. “No,” she said quietly. “Life is good. I guess economically things are tough. More people live in apartment buildings, rather than homes.”

  Megan scrunched up her nose. “Apartment buildings?”

  Susan nodded. “I know. Can you imagine it?”

  “But they had freedom.” Megan pushed on. She pointed her finger at Susan. “They could go anywhere they wanted.” She leaned in and whispered, her eyes checking for anyone who might overhear. “Looking over their shoulder, pretending to be something they’re not the entire time. That’s no way to live.”

  “And that’s not what we’re doing?” Megan’s posture became rigid.

  “Where is this coming from? We live happy content lives.”

  “In a bubble.”

  Defiance shone through Susan’s face. “I like our bubble. New Haven is the perfect place to live and raise a family.” Susan’s face flushed. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her purse and searched its content for a compact mirror.

  “Look at you, Susan. You can’t even talk about it without getting upset.”

  Susan sputtered and the words left her mouth with a hefty dose of spit. “Well, you’re the one who brought it up. It’s not like you agree with Lawrence Stark, is it? Tell me you haven’t joined his cause.”

  “It’s not just his cause,” Megan whispered, leaning across the table. “It’s the cause of all of us trapped here. Most people just refuse to believe we’re anything but human.”

  Susan squeaked and dropped her mirror. “I am too! I bake, I clean, I—I take care of the children. What’s more normal than that?”

  Megan’s eyes narrowed. “And what’s wrong with being something more? Maybe they’re the ones that should be sequestered and we should be running the show!”

  Megan’s voice reached a shrill squeak and other people were beginning to notice. Susan was painfully aware that the other patrons were no longer talking, but staring and across the street. Children stopped playing with their toys.

  Susan tried to force a laugh, sipping her float, but she couldn’t swallow, it wouldn’t go down. “You’re creating a spectacle. I think you better tone it down.”

  “Tone it down? Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for thirty years? You had it good. Your parents were brought here with you, but mine were killed upon capture, and for what? Because they didn’t want to be imprisoned here, in this perfect community? And what happened to those officers who killed my parents? Nothing. All they had to do, I bet, was file a report!”

  Susan opened her mouth to reply, but froze in silence as three armed police officers surrounded their table. She hadn’t seen them coming, had barely heard any footsteps. Each held an electric cattle prod. From the blue zapping tip, it was obvious they were charged. Their uniforms were black, and they wore hats with visors. They looked so normal, but Susan knew different. Horrified, she wanted to plead that hadn’t done anything wrong. She just wanted to be allowed to go home to be with her family.

  But their cold eyes weren’t on her. They were on Megan. One of the men grabbed her roughly by the arm. “You’ll need to come with us, Ms. Myers.”

  How was it they knew her name? Susan wondered and realized they probably could read it off their tracking bracelets.

  “I haven’t
done anything wrong.” Megan insisted, tugging, but the large man with the scary dead eyes only strengthened his grip. “Ow,” she whined. “You’re hurting me. Stop it.”

  “Has she been upsetting you, Mrs. Monroe?” one of the other officers asked her softly. “You look a bit pale, even for one of you.”

  Susan shook her head, but unable to speak as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. She wanted to say something, but her heart was pounding so fast she felt almost faint. After a moment she cleared her throat. “We were just having floats and…you know how women get at their time of the month.”

  Megan’s eyes narrowed. “Susan!”

  Susan gulped back her fear, her betrayal, and glanced at her feet.

  “We’ll take care of her.” The officer forced Megan to her feet and her chair tumbled backwards. Everyone watched as he forced her arms behind her back.

  “Let me go! What happened to the rights of American citizens! I have freedom of speech!”

  “You have no rights, you damn glistening.” The officer reached for the handle of his electric rod.

  Susan whipped her head toward the window of the Soda Jerk as Megan screamed. To keep from sobbing, she bit her lip. The reflection in the glass showed everything. The electrical shock morphed Megan’s skin from human peach to a glowing blue. Large wings flapped beneath her clothes. The charge of the weapon flowed through her limbs, lighting up her inhuman skeleton, but that of a dragon.

  A dragon.

  Back arched and fingers splayed, her flailing body assaulted the ground below.

  Megan’s form changed back to its human form, but a stoned expression crept over her face. Her expression was still; her eyes sunken with fatigue. It took two officers to force her to walk toward the paddy wagon and another to shove her into the back.

  Susan couldn’t do anything. She was too afraid to speak, move, or even think how much she would miss her friend. Around her, everyone went back to what they were doing; like a TV show interrupted, life in New Haven 56 now resumed its regular programming. Barely an eye blinked out of place. But for Susan, it wasn’t so easy.

  She wondered: If the police could know where they were at all times, what was to keep them from reading their minds too?

  Chapter Three Travis Reynolds

  May 17th, Wednesday Morning

  The Reynolds Home: 340 Gumdrop Avenue

  “Have you seen my navy socks?” Travis asked his wife. He pulled open the usual drawers where he kept such things, but they were empty. Dressed for work in black pants and matching shirt, he was only missing his socks before he headed off to work.

  “Your socks?” Alice shot him a look of exasperation, crossing her arms. “We are in the middle of an important discussion and you want me to tell you about your socks?”

  “I can’t go to work in bare toes, Al.” Travis sighed, lifting the bedspread to look beneath it. With a creak in his back, he stretched down and pulled out a linty pair. A hearty shake caused a lint snowfall. “These will do.”

  Alice’s eyes penetrated through him amid her silence. Couldn’t she just stop judging him all the time so things could go back to how they used to be?

  “Are you through putting on your socks?” She said the word with disgust.

  “I have two feet. One to go.” Travis cringed. He didn’t know why he said these things, why he egged her on, but he did. Day after day.

  “Well, far be it from me to let your toes go naked while I…I go stark raving mad!” Her toes dug into the carpet, clawing at the floor underneath.

  Huffing, her cheeks turning bright red. Her lips pulled into a tight line and that vein on the side of her head pulsated as it always did when she was angry. Travis stood, and went to her. He tried to kiss her cheek, but she reared back. Damn woman, Travis thought. He was trying to offer her the olive branch she wanted. Why did he keep trying if all Alice did was pull away?

  “I want out.” She whispered, her manic eyes searching his. “I don’t want out next year, or next month. I want out now.”

  Travis shook his head, rubbing her arms. “Honey, I’m the chief of the New Haven police. I can’t just—”

  “Your job?” She hissed. “Is it more important than me, or your daughter? Travis, we’ve been strung up in this damn bubble for over ten years. Barely get word from my parents. Wendy is forced to socialize and go to school with those things. I want to see the ocean. I want to see a real skyline. I want to be around real people again without wondering if they’re going to puncture me and liquefy my organs!”

  Travis sighed. “You know they don’t do that anymore.”

  “That’s not the point of this discussion and you know it! I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired of this place. Can’t we just go?” Alice touched his arm. It made his skin tingle like those early days when they dated, when everything was new. “Anywhere. New York, Mexico. I’ll even go to Canada if that’s what you want. We’re missing the best years of our life. Please.”

  Travis took her face in his hands. His chin quivered and when their eyes connected he saw love behind her rigid expression. Her lips puckered and he wanted nothing more than to kiss them. “Soon.”

  Alice pushed him away. “You’ve been saying that for years. Year after year. When Wendy turned, twelve, and then sixteen. She’s going to graduate high school this year and if we’re not careful, we’ll never see her again.”

  Travis stroked her arms even as she turned her head away. “This job is important. You know that. But honey, it’s not as important as you.”

  “You say it, but I just don’t believe you. Haven’t,” her voice shuddered, “in a long time.” Gulping back tears, Alice left, like she always did. Travis knew better than to chase after her. Instead his eyes cast around the room, glancing at all the memories that were there; the wedding photos, the bed where they used to make love.

  It would happen again. Every few years Alice went through a bout of cabin fever, from being stuck in New Haven 52 and now 56. It always passed, but this time it was just a little bit worse than usual. Worse than usual. But there was work to be done, and despite what he said, Travis wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to leave.

  He didn’t think so. It was his calling, his passion. Glistenings were monsters, but they were people too. He couldn’t turn his back on them.

  Travis slipped on his black jacket with the police emblem on the back. Holstering his weapon, he trudged down the stairs in time to hear the front door slam.

  His home was the spitting image of the other two bedroom homes in New Haven, and there was nothing miraculous in his kitchen except for his daughter.

  Wendy sat at the counter, perched on a stool while she ate some cereal and bent over schoolbooks. There was a small dribble of milk on her notebook cover as she scribbled down some last-minute assignment. Travis watched her as he poured his own coffee. Always a pretty girl, she had dark hair and accented green eyes. Her smile always lit up his heart, but these days those smiles were few and far between.

  Among the glistenings, she stuck out in her tight jeans and loose sweaters. There was a time where she wore nice clothes, nearly as nice as a glistening, but that stopped months ago. Travis didn’t understand why, but thought his fights with her mother might be part of it.

  He placed his dark mug on the counter and leaned across to look at his daughter. Slowly she looked up and broke out into a wide grin. “Hi, Daddy,” she said with a slight laugh to her voice. It made him feel like a fool for worrying. She’d come to him if something were really wrong.

  “Need a ride to school?”

  “No, thanks,” Wendy said with a half eye-roll. “Being the chief of police’s daughter makes you a big enough outcast.”

  “I’m not out to hurt them, you know,” Travis said. “Just need to make sure they all live by the same rules. Same standards.”

  “And as long as they stay within those bounds, everyone will be fine,” Wendy recited from memory, from old pep talks. She always paid attention and she’d al
ways be his girl even after she was all grown up. He wanted to tell her that. He wanted her to always know, but Travis knew teenagers didn’t need their dads smothering them.

  “Still scares them, though.”

  Travis nodded and stood up straight with a sigh. “Guess that can’t be changed. I’ll clean your bowl if you need to head along.”

  “Thanks, Daddy.” She packed up her backpack. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and unsteady. “Everything okay with you and Mom?”

  “Sure.” Even for a police officer he was surprised how effortlessly the lie came. “Just a few spats. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Really?” Her eyes searched him. They were trusting.

  “Really,” Travis said with a warm smile. He wasn’t sure at first if she bought it, but the broad grin that broke across her face proved she did. A feeling of warmth and love only Wendy could make him feel, flowed through him.

  He squeezed her for just a moment, kissing the top of her head. “Now head off, munchkin. Don’t be late.”

  Wendy waved goodbye and Travis watched her go with a frown. She appeared to be gaining weight, but she hardly ate any of her breakfast. Travis hoped his girl wasn’t sick, but it wasn’t exactly a subject you could broach with your daughter. Any suggestion that she was gaining weight might cause an immediate purchase of diet pills.

  Travis arrived at the police Outpost just past ten in the morning. One of the perks of being the chief of police was being able to arrive later every once in awhile. From time to time, he allowed himself the luxury. He picked up a cup of coffee from the donut shop on the corner of Main Street. The service people had been so afraid of him that they tried to give it to him on the house, but he left behind a few Haven bills and coins anyway.

  He knew the glistenings needed the money, and he got no joy with watching them suffer and struggle. Sure, the New Haven system had its detractors and critics, but Travis wasn’t an organization. He was just a person trying to do a job the best he knew how, and that meant making sure the glistenings lived their lives out in harmony, away from the prying eyes of the human beings..