The Rainbow Maker's Tale

by Melanie Cusick-Jones

  Chapter 9

  While Cassie dozed, I let my mind wander, freely enjoying how it felt to sit here with this beautiful, albeit rather worse-for-wear, girl wrapped inside my arms. There was something exhilarating in knowing that she felt safe with me – ironic though that may be. I knew that in reality my questions and mistrust of the SS Hope would endanger her if she got drawn further into my life. But, earlier today and just now, she had trusted me to help and protect her. Cassie had faith in me.

  For me, a new bond had formed between us: blossoming out of the nightmare we’d been through in that short space of time. I was bound to Cassie now in a different way than I had been. Something inside me wanted to stay this way always: shielding Cassie from anything that could hurt her.

  Was this love?

  My feelings for Cassie were beginning to overshadow everything else, including my desire to escape the Family Quarter. When I thought about it now, I couldn’t imagine going through with my plans – not if it meant leaving without her.

  I leaned my cheek against Cassie’s forehead, blowing away a tiny blade of grass that had attached itself to her eyelash. She barely moved, just lay in my arms, peaceful it seemed. I sighed. How could I feel so attached to someone I barely knew? I had existed on my own for so long – wrapped up in my plans and theories – I had no idea that I could feel the way I did right now. This wasn’t about research, or knowledge, or even the lies anymore. It was about us. Well, it was for me… But, if I laid bare all of my secrets, how would Cassie react? Even though she trusted me, could I say the same thing about her?

  I didn’t shake my head. I didn’t do anything, because I still had no answers. These questions were too similar to the ones that had been chasing themselves around my head, ever since I’d decided to follow my final path of investigation, and spoken to Cassie after our exams. I searched for something else to think about, an easy distraction from these complicated questions that I had no idea how to solve.

  Without intending to, I began dissecting what had happened in the last twenty minutes. When I thought back to Cassie falling, I found myself incredulous that I’d had the strength to hold on to her, despite the genetic enhancements I’d made. Holding her weight had pushed me way beyond any of the tests I had put myself through. How far I might actually be able to go…?

  Wriggling my shoulders lightly – so as not to disturb Cassie in my arms – I felt the unmistakable ache of pulled muscles. As I adjusted, I felt the burning throb further down my body: my neck, back and arms had all been pushed hard, but was it to the limit of my capabilities…?

  I could lift reasonably heavy weights: I exercised in the fitness centre during my allotted physical care sessions, just like everyone else, but the weights there were limited for safety, of course. In Park 42, I’d been able to fashion my own weights from the discarded stone resin that decorated the landscape, and so I’d practised with much heavier weights, both before and after my experiment with the gene therapy. Cassie might be slim, but she was still a lot heavier than anything I’d ever lifted before.

  Could there be another key factor at play, besides my training and experimentation? The only answer I could come up with was adrenaline. I’d read about it, but had never believed it was possible for a surge of chemicals in the body to make such a difference. Fight or flight…life or death… It had been one of those moments, hadn’t it?

  Gently brushing a hand across the badly bandaged cuts on Cassie’s arm, I shuddered at how awful they looked. The lump on her head was still visible from where I sat half-behind her, and I thought about her blacking out. I would have to disturb her soon, just to be sure there was no danger from a concussion.

  My mind moved on. Cassie had been out of it for how long…? I still couldn’t properly calculate the time that had passed when she was unconscious. I replayed the moments inside my head, trying to work out how long it had been: my words and her whispered answers echoed over one another. That was when it hit me: I saw exactly what had been wrong with Cassie’s answers.

  Leaning into Cassie’s neck, I whispered close to her ear. “Are you awake?”

  “Mmmm,” Cassie sighed in response.

  The noise made my stomach twist in a funny way, she sounded so content. “How do you feel?”

  “Better, but not great,” she replied, her voice still subdued.

  I laughed uncomfortably. Better, but not great, I could appreciate that sentiment. “I think I’m in shock. I can’t believe what happened…”

  “You mean you don’t drop people off cliffs and perform Field Medicine on a daily basis?”

  I ignored the light teasing in her question. “No. Today has been a first for me in several areas.”

  She might have said “Oh?” but I didn’t really hear properly and anyway, I needed to talk to her about what had happened – or what I thought had happened. “When you were unconscious earlier, do you remember anything?”

  “Before you realigned my shoulder?”

  I nodded.

  “I remember everything,” Cassie confirmed.

  At least she didn’t think her memory was impaired, that was a good thing. But I needed more. “What exactly do you remember?”

  For several seconds Cassie was silent and I wondered whether she was going to answer me. Perhaps I hadn’t been clear in my question. Then she spoke.

  “I was standing on the ledge and you were behind me about to say something…Then the edge of the rock broke away and I fell; you caught me and dragged me back over, yanking my arm out of the socket in the process.”

  Well, Cassie’s recollection of that part – at least – was clear. I cringed as the last few words made my eyes close and my own memories bubble to the surface: I saw the fear in her face, her broken body and blood on my hands... My arms stiffened around Cassie’s shoulders before I could force the images away and make myself relax. Obviously, she blamed me for what had happened, and why shouldn’t she? I’d nearly gotten Cassie killed, by bringing her to this isolated place just so that I could quiz her and find out if I could trust her with my secrets. I was such an idiot. A selfish idiot, I corrected.

  “I think that’s when I blacked out.”

  Cassie spoke so quietly that I almost missed her words, too preoccupied with berating myself. Forcing my attention back to the conversation, I pressed on with my questioning. Aside from my selfish stupidity – which was a given – there was another issue to be answered. “When you were unconscious, do you remember anything before you came round?”

  “You were talking to me.”

  Cassie adjusted herself, as though she was trying to turn around and face me. When she winced in pain I stopped her movements, gently pulling her back towards my chest. She shouldn’t be moving yet – for medical reasons, obviously – and I allowed myself a small smile as I resettled my arms around her chest.

  Our positions had shifted slightly from a moment before and Cassie’s head leaned back easily on the front of my shoulder now. I turned that way, able to see her face better, instead of just the top of her head.

  “What was I saying?” I asked, once Cassie appeared comfortable.

  She closed her eyes in concentration, her mouth scrunching up thoughtfully before she spoke. Then the words came out slowly, stopping and starting, with lots of pauses. “You were apologising…you were saying it was your fault…that you shouldn’t have brought me here…” Her voice changed, abruptly insistent. “It wasn’t your fault. It was just an accident – you don’t have to be sorry.”

  It was nice of Cassie to try and make me feel better, even though it did nothing to ease my guilt. Her eyes fixed on mine, trying to convey the truth of her words, when she insisted, “I’m fine” again.

  “You said that, before, when you were unconscious.”

  “And I meant it!” Her lips pressed into a line, emphasising her words.

  “You sounded like you did,” I agreed. “The problem is I didn’t say I was sorry, or
that it was my fault. I only said your name.”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.” Cassie’s eyes shifted left, staring past me before her face turned that way a moment later. When her head shook slightly I knew she was dismissing whatever thoughts had been there a second ago. “You said my name,” she insisted. “And that you were sorry. I heard you say it – clearly in my head – I heard you…”

  Cassie sounded so convinced, so sure of her memories – could it be mine that were flawed? Had adrenaline helped me in one way, but clouded my brain in another…? I needed to see Cassie’s face to be sure of what she was saying: she always hid so much behind her words.

  My right arm was still supporting Cassie’s injured shoulder like a sling. Leaning lightly into her back, I tipped her body forward and tilted her face towards me with my free hand. At the movement she opened her eyes, but she didn’t resist me.

  Once we were facing each other, I let my eyes wander across her features – ignoring the scratches and dirt – her gaze rose to meet mine. “That’s what I mean,” I looked deep into her eyes. “I know what you heard…you were answering me…but I didn’t say those things; I thought them.”

  I waited…first her face registered surprise and then confusion. Cassie’s lips trembled as though she was going to speak, but no words came out. I thought for a moment she might be about to cry. When no tears fell, I wasn’t sure what to do and so I just nodded at her, reaffirming my words.

  The stillness between us became uncomfortable. Our faces and bodies were so close together, and yet that was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to know what she was thinking, but could read nothing in her expression. Would she believe that something so impossible could have happened? I wasn’t even sure that I believed it myself.

  “I don’t know what you’re saying.” Cassie finally choked out in a whisper. Her eyes hadn’t left my mine, but no matter how hard I looked I couldn’t tell what was behind her words. It sounded like fear. Had my question scared her?

  Trying to reassure Cassie that I wasn’t crazy – and hadn’t meant to scare her – I took her face in the palm of my hand. The warmth from her skin felt so pleasant against my own, I could almost forget the question that had been irritating me earlier. Almost. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened when Cassie was unconscious. Some loose strands of hair stuck against her cheek and I brushed them aside, securing them behind her ear.

  “I’m saying that when you spoke to me before, you answered what I was thinking and not what I was saying – you answered as though you could hear exactly what was inside my head.” Even as I tried to make my words sound plausible, I knew what I was suggesting sounded ridiculous…but at the same time, the more I thought about it, the more I became convinced of what had happened. “My next question would be: how is that possible?” There it was – I’d said it – now to see what Cassie would say.

  I leaned back, folding my arms to let her know I would wait for an answer. Finally, Cassie replied.

  “It’s not possible…it must have been a coincidence…” She sounded uncertain, scrabbling for words. “Subconsciously I must have heard you calling me and I put some kind of meaning to your words and answered that instead.”

  Cassie didn’t call me crazy. She didn’t look at me as though I had lost my mind. She was immediately logical, answering me as though this was part of a sensible discussion at The Clinic. Nothing in her words rang true. There was no outright dismissal or rebuttal of my idea…if anything Cassie sounded guilty, as if I had stumbled across something she already knew.

  Was that possible?

  I shook my head. “You were talking to me,” I repeated. “I don’t know how – I’ll freely admit that – but you were answering me as though I had spoken the thoughts aloud.”

  “How can you be sure you didn’t say it? You said before you were in shock...” Cassie directed the question back at me. She sounded…defensive.

  I pondered this. To be answering words someone thought rather than said was an odd thing to happen, admittedly – but why would Cassie be so adamant nothing had happened? It could have been a freak occurrence, connected to adrenaline surges in the heat of the moment…or a connection between two people, like the odd de ja vu feelings I sometimes got.

  When I looked across at Cassie, I saw that she was resolutely avoiding my eyes. From everything I had learned about her in the time we’d spent together, her reaction to this was just so different. She was behaving in the same way I would if I got caught doing something I shouldn’t be. She was lying.

  I shook my head once again. “I know what I said and what I thought – and until I asked you now, you were sure I’d been speaking to you – you didn’t seem to hear what I’d actually said, just what I thought. You didn’t even hear me saying your name over and over again, did you?”

  “So what are you saying? You think I’m crazy?” The tension in Cassie’s voice ratcheted with each word, and the resentment that burned on her cheeks only emphasised her objections.

  “No! I don’t think that at all!” I wasn’t accusing her of being crazy. But something crazy had happened in the minutes after she fell. I just wanted to know what.

  “What do you think then?” Cassie demanded, her voice losing some of the harshness as she looked back at me for the first time.

  Why wasn’t she intrigued by this strange occurrence like I was? Cassie was normally curious, even though I knew she often hid that side of her personality from her school friends, but she was dismissing this out of hand…becoming angry when very little had been said. If it was such a silly notion, then why was she focusing this back onto herself, instead of accusing me?

  The only answer I could imagine was that she knew something about what had happened earlier. And if she did, I had to know what that was…perhaps it was the reason Scarlett had insisted Cassie would be able to help me.

  “I think – and I don’t know how it’s possible – but I think that you did hear what I thought and you answered me.”

  “You sound crazy,” she muttered, her words not carrying enough force to make it sound like she actually believed the accusation.

  I waited, but Cassie offered nothing further. We sat staring at each other for an indeterminate length of time, no words passing between us. I could tell she was thinking hard, she probably didn’t realise, but she was nibbling the corner of her bottom lip – a complete giveaway. I decided she needed a prompt. “Have you ever noticed anything like that before?”

  A pause, then “No.” Cassie shook her head at the same time as looking away from me.

  “You’re lying to me,” I said. And you’re really bad at it.

  Incapable of looking at her, I focused on the ground beside me, suddenly fascinated by a rough cluster of grass. It was surprisingly painful to acknowledge that Cassie didn’t want me to know something about her – didn’t trust me – when I found myself revealing so much to her.

  Again there was a long silence. When Cassie finally spoke there was no denial of my accusation, she just said, “I need to get home.” The conversation was over, whether I wanted it to be or not.

  Resisting the urge to punch my fist into the ground, I buried my frustration. Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to get her to talk…she nearly died less than an hour ago. That incident might be affecting Cassie more than whether she trusted me or not, and it was an explanation I really liked the sound of. I would let it go…for now.