Girl Divided

by Willow Rose

  Jetta laughed again, then looked at Nanna, who seemed to be enjoying listening to her repeat her own stories.

  "Tell me how they met," Jetta said like she used to as a child.

  "Ha, ha, yes, that's a good one," Jetta said, trying to sound like her grandmother did. "It is said that she used to be an antelope who, every now and then, took off her skin to reveal a beautiful woman. One day, when he was at the market, he met her, was struck by her beauty, and followed her into the forest. Then he watched as she donned her skin and turned back into the stunning animal. The following day, the god of storms hid in the forest when she came back again, changed into a woman, and guess what he did?"

  Jetta chuckled. She knew this story so well. "He took her skin."

  Nanna was grinning from ear to ear.

  Jetta added: "He took it home and hid it! It is said they have been together ever since."

  Jetta stopped as darkness fell upon the swamps. She was tired but not exhausted. Yet, she sat down on a wooden log to catch her breath. She hadn't eaten for days but still felt only a slight hunger.

  Kevin sat down next to her, he looked down at the ground and kicked a small piece of a branch.

  "I’m sure they're going to be fine," she said, wondering if he could tell that she was lying. The fact was, she feared the worst for his family. And for Tyler.

  He looked up and their eyes met.

  "Yes, I am sure," she said.

  Jetta thought about Tyler. She had made him a promise and she was going to keep it. She wasn't going to leave him there. She had heard of cities up north that were occupied by Black Liberty's forces, where blacks were in charge. The white cities on the east coast, you had to stay away from. But cities like Chicago and everything west from there was black, while the south and east coast were white territories. Actually, it was Tyler who had told her about it and she knew he dreamt of going up there. She was going to help him get there. And maybe, if she could find him, then she could find Kevin's family and help them too. Maybe they could all escape up there where blacks weren't in danger.

  Kevin looked at her.

  "I know," she said. "You just wish you could see them. You just want to know they're all right. I can't blame you, kiddo."

  "How come you didn't stay with them?" Jetta then asked. "Why did you follow me?"

  Kevin's deep dark eyes stared at her. He shook his head. All the bones in his neck rattled.

  "You don't know, do you? Why you're here with me. Well, neither do I."

  Jetta kicked some dirt too and realized her sneakers were all worn out. She looked down at herself. She needed new clothes too. She had to find her way out of these swamps somehow without being seen. Where could a girl like her go? She was white, but not really white. She was black, but not really black. In a world divided into black and white, she was neither.

  She belonged nowhere.

  Part III

  Chapter 28

  The half moon hung pale in the dark sky when she appeared. Jetta had been walking for days, maybe a week, when she spotted her. Sometimes, the ghosts were with her and kept her company, sometimes they weren't. At this moment, they weren't.

  As she approached a clearing inside the swamps, she saw the woman for the first time. Bathed in moonlight, she was sitting on top of a black Yamaha bike, looking like she was waiting for her. It was the oddest sight in the middle of the swamps, seeing a bike and the exhaust fuming in the air. Once again, there was a whisper on the wind, calling her name. This time louder than ever before.

  She was gorgeous. Blonde hair and skin as white as snow. She was wearing an ankle-length black leather coat that blew in the wind, even though there was no wind.

  The bike roared as Jetta approached, mouth agape, wondering if she was asleep or just seeing things because of lack of food and sleep.

  The woman reached her hand out toward Jetta, who felt compelled to grab it. The woman then pulled Jetta up to the back of the bike. Having never ridden a bike before, Jetta had to grab onto the woman to not fall off as it soared through the swamps, spurting mud up onto the trail behind it.

  The bike was faster than anything she had ever ridden on. They shot through the swamps and soon reached a road, where they slowed down. Jetta felt strangely comfortable in the presence of this woman and didn't feel awkward holding onto her waist the way she did, even though they hadn't spoken a single word. As they rode across the hills and through forests, she realized they weren't alone. Behind this woman rode hundreds of men and woman in the fog. An entire army of dead people.

  They stopped at a small house that had once been a restaurant. The roof was missing and so was half of one of the walls. It was pierced with bullet holes and there was blood in the driveway.

  Jetta wondered what they were doing there, but the woman parked the bike and got off. Jetta followed her as they walked to the doorway. There was no longer a door, so they walked straight inside.

  "What are we doing here?" Jetta asked.

  They had been riding all night and the sun was about to rise behind the hills. She followed the woman inside the abandoned building. The smell of rain hit her nostrils and she looked down where she spotted bodies on the ground. Black people had lived and died here. She was still in white man's land.

  The woman turned and smiled, then signaled for Jetta to be quiet. Jetta looked around the strange fallen house, kicked a brick, and let it roll across the floor. Then she heard the sound of the wind whooshing again and as she looked up, the place looked completely different. Suddenly, it reminded her of a tavern from some old movie with a fire in the fireplace, food on the tables, and people. The place was packed with people, drinking and eating, rattling and clanking as they walked past her. Someone helped them find a table and, as she sat down, Jetta looked up towards the missing roof only to see it being rebuilt in the air, tile after tile putting itself back into place.

  The woman swung her leather coat and sat down. Jetta, still in awe, sat down too.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  The woman smiled again. "Why, Jetta dearest. I am your mother."

  Chapter 29

  Jetta stared at her for more than just a long time, not saying a word. Water arrived in a big jug for her, while the woman had what looked and smelled like beer, but with the whole setting might as well have been mead.

  "What?" Jetta finally asked.

  "You can call me Lo," she said and signaled for the waitress. The waitress approached them, the bones in her arm jangling as she wrote down Lo's requests.

  "Bring me meat, and lots of it," Lo said. "Red meat."

  The waitress nodded, turned around and left, rattling loudly as she rushed away. Lo then took out something from her coat, a small bag of some sort, pulled out its contents, and put it in the jar containing her beer. Jetta stared at the stuff swimming in her beer while Lo drank from it.

  Lo saw her staring. "Worms and grogs," she said. "I like to spice things up a little."

  Jetta felt confused. Lo reached across the table and touched Jetta's face, then grabbed Jetta's hoodie and pulled it off.

  For the first time in years, Jetta was now sitting there, her face completely exposed. She turned her head and looked straight ahead, an unusual gesture for her as she had only shown her right side for years, using mostly one eye. She felt strange.

  "Now, that's better," Lo said.

  Jetta looked down at the table. She was about to cover her face yet again when Lo stopped her.

  "Don't."

  Jetta looked up. Lo felt strangely familiar and Jetta wasn't uncomfortable in her presence as she usually was with strangers. Neither did she feel unease being among all these dead people.

  "You're pretty," Lo said.

  "Ha. I don't get that a lot," Jetta said.

  The food arrived. Huge pieces of meat, red and bloody meat landed in front of her. Jetta had never eaten anything like it before. Lo dug in, pierced her teeth into the red meat, ripped the flesh off, and chewed. Jetta followed, thinking she wo
uld find it disgusting to eat something like this, but as it turned out, she really enjoyed it.

  Lo nodded excitedly. "Good, right?"

  Jetta chewed and took another bite. Some of the blood ran down her chin and dripped onto the wooden table. She didn't stop it or wipe it off. Lo smiled and ate, slurping the blood. Jetta followed and ate till she was about to burst.

  "See, you and me, we don't really need food, but that doesn’t mean we can't enjoy it, right?" Lo said.

  Jetta froze. Jetta had never told anyone about how she could go on for a very long time without any food or even drinking, as she had experienced in the swamps.

  "How do you know?" she asked.

  Lo laughed. "I told you, kiddo. I'm your mother." Lo reached out and touched Jetta's left side of her face, the white side. "You and me. We're the same."

  Jetta swallowed, feeling confused. "But I already have a mother. She died when I was a baby. In a fire."

  Lo tilted her head. "I know."

  "How can I have two mothers?"

  "Oh, she was only your earthly mother. See, I placed you with her, in her womb to protect you, to hide you, but she was just a hideout and nothing else. I am your real mother. I am your creator."

  It sounded so odd when she said it. Creator. Like she owned Jetta.

  "How old are you now, Jetta? I have lost count," Lo asked, blood dripping from her front teeth.

  "Twelve?"

  "Fourteen."

  "Ah, yes. You're old enough to know the truth about who you really are. And that is why I have come for you now. Now you must come with me and meet your family. Your real family."

  Chapter 30

  Lo made Jetta laugh. It had been years since she had laughed so wholeheartedly, which she did as Lo told her stories of her family—or rather of their family—if what she said was true and she really was her mother, or creator, as she—for whatever reason—liked to call herself.

  "So, you're telling me I have nine brothers?" Jetta asked, startled.

  Being alone with her grandmother while growing up, she had always dreamt of having a big family.

  Lo nodded and drank from her jar. "And grandparents, don't forget them. They're dy-ing to see you."

  Lo looked like she thought what she had said was funny, then continued. "No, seriously. They're a hoot. You'll love them."

  The thought of grandparents, of having an actual family, pleased Jetta immensely. She had been on her own for so long.

  She stared in awe at her beautiful mother, who went on and on about Jetta's many brothers, telling stories of their childhood and the many crazy things they had done while growing up. It made Jetta feel painfully cheerful and bitter at the same time. Why had her brothers grown up together, while she had been somewhere else?

  Lo drank from her jar again, laughing loudly.

  "Do they look like me?" Jetta asked.

  "What's that?"

  "My brothers?"

  She kind of knew the answer, but a tiny hope had sparked inside of her that maybe she wasn't the only one who looked like this.

  "Sure," she said, drinking.

  Jetta touched her face, then looked up at her mother's white face and hair. She had spent so many years hiding the white side of herself because she believed that part was a mistake, that it was the black side of her that was the real her. For all those years, she had believed herself to be black and the white part to be a mistake. Was it the other way around? Was she, in reality, white with a black part? Was the black part the mistake?

  Jetta ate again, feeling more confused than ever. She turned her head and spotted Nanny sitting on a bench in the other part of the room, along with Kevin and Mr. Richards. They didn't seem too happy and Jetta felt a stab of guilt.

  "What about my father?"

  Lo seemed to pretend like she didn't hear the question. Jetta asked again.

  "If you're my mother, then who is my father?"

  Lo drank again, emptying the jar, then asked for another one, yelling the order loudly through the room. She turned and faced Jetta. When she realized Jetta wasn't going to let the question go, she simply said:

  "That, I cannot tell you."

  "What? Why not?"

  Another jar arrived and Lo drank for a long time as if she believed if she kept going long enough, Jetta would let it go. But she didn't.

  "Why can't you tell me who he is?"

  Lo put the jar down forcefully. "Well…I…I just can't, okay?"

  "Don't you know?"

  Lo sighed. She breathed and didn't rattle when she moved, telling Jetta that she wasn't one of the dead. At first, she had thought she might be one, trying to pull a trick on her, but she was different. She was definitely alive. But what exactly she was, was still unclear to Jetta.

  "I do know. It's not like that. Believe me; I know. I just…"

  "You just don't want me to know," Jetta said.

  Lo shook her head. "Not really, no."

  Jetta threw a glance at her grandmother, who seemed to be following the conversation from afar. The old woman was shaking her head, clicking her tongue, but making no sound.

  "Just give me a hint, please?" Jetta said, her eyes leaving her grandmother.

  Lo drank again, emptied yet another jar, then put it down hard. "It's the wind, okay?"

  Jetta furrowed a brow. "The wind?"

  Lo shrugged. "The East Wind."

  Lo grabbed her coat by the edge and covered herself up with it. "Now, come on. We need to get moving."

  Chapter 31

  "Where are we going?"

  Jetta followed Lo as she walked through the house and noticed that, as they moved, the house returned to its former self, the roof tiles falling off once again, shattering behind her, the fire dying out, the tables returning broken onto the floor and the bricks falling down around them. Even the door fell off as soon as Lo had opened it. It fell to the ground with a loud thud and they walked outside. Jetta turned to see that the house was now back to its former abandoned self and there was no trace of them ever being there.

  Except for the feeling of a full stomach mixed with a strange confusion.

  Lo reached out her hand, grabbed Jetta, and pulled her back on the bike. Jetta turned around to see Nanna and the two others standing behind in the road, looking after her as she rode off into the night, Nanna still shaking her head.

  "Where are we going?" Jetta asked once again as the countryside rushed past them, lit only by the sparse moonlight.

  Jetta had always had strong night vision that had helped her immensely while living in the attic, and now she wondered if that too had something to do with who—or what—she was. It was all very overwhelming and exciting and frightening at the same time. She had always believed she was nothing but a misfit, a curse maybe even, and now, here came this strange woman telling her differently. She had even called her pretty. For years, she had hidden the white part of herself, being ashamed of it, but now this woman told her it is actually who she really is?

  "I told you," Lo yelled back against the strong winds. It was growing colder and started to bite Jetta's face.

  "We're going to see your family."

  "But where is it? Where are they?"

  "North," Lo said, then rushed the bike forward. The army of dead was rushing along with them, riding roaring bikes themselves, some on horses, others just running on their bare feet, rattling along.

  Jetta held on tighter to Lo's waist, hiding her face from the still colder winds. Soon, snowflakes fell on her cheeks and in her hair and Jetta couldn't stop laughing. She had never seen snowflakes before and opened her mouth to let them fall and melt on her tongue. Jetta laughed again as the melted water tickled her tongue. She wondered what was north. As far as she knew, that was black territory. Everything except the big cities on the east coast. At least that was what Tyler had told her.

  Tyler!

  Jetta suddenly realized she had completely forgotten about Tyler. In all her excitement over finding her family and finding out who
she really was, she had forgotten her promise to him. Now, she remembered, and she yelled at her mother:

  "Stop. Stop. I can't go with you."

  "Sure, you can," she yelled back.

  "No. No. I can't. I have to save Tyler!"

  Lo stopped the bike. She turned around to look at her.

  "You what?"

  "He saved me. I have to save him too. I promised him."

  Lo shook her head.

  "He saved my life," Jetta said. "Back in the ghetto. He helped me get out of there."

  Lo laughed. It was a loud and strange laugh. It sure wasn't a happy one. "He didn't save you, sweetie. He saved himself. Don't you see? Oh, you sweet naïve child. He only used you to get himself out of there. He needed you. They were only taking families, mostly children, to save the children. You were there and he could use you. He's nothing but a thief."

  "He's not," Jetta protested.

  "Yes, he is."

  Lo put her head close to Jetta's and spoke in a deep whisper. "And you know it. You've seen it. Haven't you? In your dreams. You've seen him steal from those corpses. Money, jewelry. Rings, watches, earrings. You saw him take things from them, pulling them from their dead fingers and ears. How do you think he was able to pay for the both of you getting in front of everyone else? You really think he thought about you, you think that he cared?"

  Jetta stared at Lo, shaking her head in disbelief. It was true, wasn't it? She had seen it in her dreams. She had seen him take the jewelry from the dead bodies, putting it into his own pockets, but all this time she had thought it was nothing but a dream, a nightmare. Was Lo right? Had Tyler only cared for himself?