Chapter 12: Parents
“The Freedom Warriors Headquarters?” I ask, baffled.
"That's the headquarters for the resistance," explains Peter.
“Unfortunately,” states Royce, “it’s a long way from here.”
I try to understand what they’re telling me. “This isn’t it?”
Peter shakes his head. “Madrigal, we’re only a small part of the whole resistance—there are many more of us.”
I smile. “That’s a relief.”
“But our headquarters is hidden in the third region,” explains Constanza. “Well hidden. That’s the only way we’ve been able to thrive.”
“So you really do have some organization to this rebellion.”
“Of course,” Constanza declares, her tone sounding insulted.
“Sorry,” I rush, “I’m still trying to figure out how all of this works.”
“You don’t have to apologize for wanting answers,” Royce says quietly.
"What you need to understand and think about is the danger in what we propose—in getting you to the Freedom Warriors Headquarters," Constanza states.
Peter nods solemnly. You've got to be sure about leaving behind the comfortable life you have with your parents."
"I don't have a comfortable life with my fake parents," I blurt sharply.
"You have the things you need—"
"No, Constanza. I really don't get what I need from them."
Constanza eyes me carefully before nodding. "I understand that it has been tough living with them but being on the run may be tougher."
"You sound as if I've got a choice as to whether I want to go to the headquarters or not."
"You do," Royce mutters.
"Let me get this straight--I've got a choice as to whether I want to go to the Freedom Headquarters or go back to may fake parents?"
"Yes," Royce states, matter-of-factly.
True to their word, my captors don’t lock me up again. I am free to go anywhere I want—including outside. In fact, they assure me I can leave, and no one will try to stop me.
In the bedroom I’ve been staying in, I stare at the ceiling. The painting of the exploding star now takes on a new meaning for me. There’s no way I’m the Supernova. It would take someone much more special than me. I’m too ordinary.
I take a deep, prolonged breath to decide what to do. How could so much happen in just a few days?
Arthur! Arthur! I cry in my head.
Nothing.
Where are you, Arthur?
I need you.
Nothing.
He’s gone.
A sharp pain stabs at me. Deep inside, I’ve always been afraid of this day, but I had never allowed myself to consider it on a conscious level. What’ll I do without Arthur?
I chastise myself for feeling sorry for myself. This is no time to wallow in self pity. I’ve got a decision to make, and I can’t be wishy-washy. I’ve got to be strong.
I go back to my predicament. Should I go back to my fake parents? Should I take my abductors up on their offer to free me from the horrible life I led? I weigh all the options and exhale a choppy breath. Then I ask myself the question of questions: If I had a choice, would I have changed what happened to me?—the abduction?
No!
The word pops in my head so fast and determined that I realize how true it is. These clever people have dangled a carrot in front of me, and I am unable to resist.
I don't want to return to my old life.
What does it have in store for me anyway? What do I have to go back to? Fake parents who could care less about me? A school I hate? A government I despise?
I’d be going back to Estraphil—the drug that kept me in a fog and away from my memories of my real parents. And I'd be back in the hands of their murderers if what my abductors are saying is true.
I have nothing to go back to and everything to stay with the resistance for. But still. How can I believe such an outlandish story of me being a supernova?
“May I come in?” Peter asks gently, his hazel eyes vivid through the slot.
“Sure,” I say, sitting up on the bed.
He pushes the button that makes the door slide up, and he steps into the bedroom. I motion for him to sit next to me.
“You’ve forgiven me I hope,” he tells me, his eyes intently on me.
“Forgiven you?”
“For abducting you.”
“Yes, of course I forgive you,” I say, smiling.
He smiles back. “What a relief.”
“I need to ask you something that has been gnawing at me for a while.”
“What is it?” he asks with curiosity.
“About Andrew.”
“Andrew?”
“He’s the boy George said you drugged the day you took me.”
“I know who Andrew is,” he states. “What about him?”
“First of all, are we talking about the same guy? Andrew 7024?”
“That’s him.”
“Did you abduct him too?”
“No.”
“Then why did you drug him?”
His hazel eyes fix themselves on my own. “We had to put him out of commission, or we wouldn’t have been able to take you.”
“What?”
“He was always watching you,” he growls.
“I . . . I . . .” Come to think of it, Andrew was always staring in my direction. In my foggy brain, I had ignored it.
“We think that he is a spy for the government.”
“A spy?” I ask in disbelief.
“They kept very close tabs on you, Madrigal.”
“Do you know for sure that he was a spy?”
“No, but we had to take precautions. We couldn’t let anyone see what we were doing. We had a mission to accomplish.”
“A mission?”
“Yes.”
“Abducting me was a mission?”
“Bringing you to your full senses was our mission. I know how weird all of this is,” he comments, patting my hand. “I know that human supernovas and world conspiracies sound like science fiction but they are much more natural than what the world leaders have done to our planet.”
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” I assert.
He chuckles. “We’re not crazy, Madrigal. We just care about the world, and we care about you.
"Me?"
"You're special, Madrigal, very special."
"How long have you been with the Freedom Warriors?” I ask, embarrassed and changing the subject.
“Royce and I were kind of born into it.”
“What?”
“Royce and I are cousins.”
“You’re cousins?!” I exclaim, surprise bursting out of me.
He laughs loudly. “I know we don’t look at all like each other.”
“No, you don’t.”
“His coloring is darker than mine, but we feel the same about what’s happened to earth. Even when we were in grade school, we felt the same way.”
“School?” Then it dawned on me why he always seemed familiar to me. Why hadn’t I realized it sooner? “Peter, we went to the same grammar school, right?”
“You finally remembered.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought it would be better for you to remember.”
“With all the junk out of my system, my brain is working in a whole new way,” I declare.
“Exactly.”
“It’s like I lived in a dense fog before this.”
“You lived in one alright.”
“I didn’t have a firm grasp on reality, but I saw a lot just the same.”
“Royce and I saw a lot of things ourselves while growing up. In fact, it was because of one of those power plays that we were put in separate schools after grade school.”
“How was that?”
“One of the teachers thought we were too smart together.”
“T
oo smart?” I ask, baffled.
“We’d always be able to figure out every answer—if not apart then together. Then we started asking questions about the running of things. Why was this fair, and why did that have to be? They stuck us in different schools.”
“Is that why I never saw you after elementary school?”
“Yep. My family gave us a good talking to after the reshuffling.”
“What did they tell you?”
“They told us never to show what was inside our heads. The time would come for action but in the meantime, we had to lay low.”
“Lay low?”
“Yes.”
A realization burst inside of me like a sudden light after darkness. “You pretended to be what you weren’t.”
“Right.”
“Even acting as if you were in cahoots with the privileged students,” I state, thinking of Royce.
“Right.”
“But you really weren’t.”
“We hated everything they stood for.”
“Me too,” I chime in.
“But unlike you, we couldn’t show it.”
“I paid the price for showing my disgust of them.”
“We couldn’t show our true feelings. We had to keep them bottled up inside while putting on an act.”
“Royce did a good job pretending,” I say wryly.
“That’s because so much depended on him being convincing.”
“It did?”
“A lot happened to my family too, Madrigal.”
“What happened?” I asked, curiosity bursting through my words.
“Royce’s parents were also killed by the government.”
“They were?” I ask, surprised.
“Murdered.”
“That’s beyond horrible!”
“He was raised by our grandparents who had to fake disgust with the subversive behavior of their daughter in order to be allowed to raise him.”
“Royce lost his parents too,” I blurt sadly.
“I’m sure he’ll tell you about it someday.”
He must miss his parents as much as I miss mine. He must live with a hole inside of him every day of his life.
“They are so evil." I won't be part of their game anymore, the vivid thought comes to my head like a jolt of lightning and surprises me with its strength and conviction.
“Yes, evil.”
“Most definitely,” I murmur strongly. "Let's go to the Freedom Warriors Headquarters."
“I have to warn you that we'll be heading into massive danger. You’ve got to do this with your eyes wide open.”
“I know.”
“As much as I'd love for you to get away from your true captors, I want you to really know what’s at stake.”
“I’m in.”
Supernova Page 10