Chapter 14: The Eve Before The Journey
“I just remembered how to do this—my little rock throwing,” I say, trying to sound as dismissive as Royce had been toward my slingshot.
Peter chuckles as he gets off the ground while Royce tumbles up, rubbing the place where the rock had rammed into him.
“Good job,” Royce mumbles.
“I’d say better than good—great!” Peter announces. “Great aim, Madrigal.”
“My little rock throwing is not so useless, right?”
“I’d say it’s pretty awesome,” Peter agrees. “You could do a lot of damage with your slingshot.”
“Yes, you could,” Royce states, still rubbing his back.
“Glad you can admit it,” I say, chuckling darkly.
“I never said you couldn’t,” grumbles Royce.
I smile wryly. “You implied it—you implied that my slingshot was just a toy.”
Royce’s dark eyes stare back at me. “My bad—I apologize. I really didn’t think that a slingshot could be that much of a weapon.”
“Now you know differently,” Peter declares, smiling.
“Yeah, now I know differently,” mumbles Royce.
Dinner is a succulent roasted chicken with the side dishes of mashed potatoes and squash. This is the last supper before we start our journey tomorrow. The diners at the table, including me, are tense and quiet.
“I’ve got an announcement to make,” declares Constanza. Everyone at the table leans forward to listen. “I’ve chosen a leader for this expedition.”
“A leader?” I ask.
“Someone has to lead the way. It’s way too dangerous out there,”
“Who did you choose?” Peter questions suspiciously.
Constanza exhales a long breath. “Royce.”
“Royce?!” I mutter loudly.
“Yes, Royce.”
“Why him?” I blurt. “Why not Peter?”
Staring at his plate solemnly, Royce doesn’t make a sound.
“Royce is the obvious choice.”
“Why?” I question.
“I’ve got as many leadership qualities as Royce,” Peter interjects. “I’ve trained with him.”
“He’s the only one of the three of you who has made the trek to headquarters. He knows where to go.”
“Constanza, you should at least give me a chance.”
“Peter, I can’t risk this mission on a chance. Royce is leading this expedition and that is all there is to it.”
When we finish our meal in stony silence after Constanza’s announcement, she informs me that there is an important matter to take care of. We silently walk to my room. I’m more than a little curious as to what she wants to tell me.
“Everyone in the world knows what you look like,” she states as we enter my space. “They’ve been airing your fake parents pleading for you every day since we took you.”
“What do we do?”
“Change your look.”
I suggest we experiment with my hair color, but she responds that it isn’t necessary. “It might call more attention to itself if we mess with it,” she explains.
Instead, she lets it loose. I had always worn it in a tight bun on top of my head because my fake parents insisted on it and also because any loose hair would annoy me—part of the affect of the drugs. The horrible sensation of stray hairs gliding over my skin felt like rough scratches. Now that I am off the Estraphil, my long, loose hair is nothing short of freedom. The waist-length curly black tendrils are set free along with me.
“Look in the mirror,” Constanza says, guiding me to the body length mirror on the inside of the old fashioned closet door. I’m stunned when I see my reflection.
Is that me? I ask myself.
My skin is no longer pasty and splotchy. It’s the color it was meant to be—a cinnamon with pinkish tones. My eyes are focused and not glazed or reddish. The hair I was always so careful in harshly pulling back now falls to the small of my back and has a certain shine to it. I realize another affect of the drugs—opaque hair.
The clothes I now wear also change my appearance. Gone are the silver jumpsuits that contained me, that locked me in. The brown cotton pants and blouse feel much better on my skin.
“Well, what do you think?” Constanza asks, smiling.
I return the smile. “I think I’ve just found myself—the true me.”
In my lonely room, after Constanza leaves, I realize that on the eve of the dangerous expedition, I crave for company. Peter, who is on guard duty in the tunnel leading to the waterfall, takes a step back when he sees me.
“Wow!” he exclaims when he finds his voice.
I’d forgotten about the change in my appearance and start fidgeting. “How are you doing out here?”
He ignores my question. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“That’s the whole point,” I state.
“You’re beautiful!”
“Thanks,” I say, uncomfortable. With the exception of receiving compliments from Arthur and my real parents, they’ve been rare in my life.
He suddenly gets down on one knee in an exaggerated way. “Marry me!” he gushes.
I can’t help but laugh at his mischievousness and the unserious, silly look on his face. “Don’t you think we should get to know one another?”
“I’ve seen everything I need to see.”
“Really?”
“You don’t believe me?” he asks with an over-the-top, crestfallen face. “You’ve stuck a dagger in me.”
“How big of a dagger?”
He chuckles loudly. “Okay, so I overdid it a bit,” he declares, getting up off the floor.
“Just a little,” I say, smiling.
His eyes reach out to mine. “But with all sincerity,” he asserts, “you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.”
I grimace. It’s not a good or a proper reaction to a beautiful compliment, but it’s a knee jerk one. I don’t have it in me to react differently. “Let’s go outside,” I request, changing the subject.
We sit on two tree stumps, leaving the tunnel entrance open with the steel door up. The cascading waterfall in front of us glistens in long, translucent sheets. I can’t think of ever having seen a more beautiful landscape. The sounds of falling water lull us into a peaceful state.
The question that has been bothering me suddenly comes to the forefront of my thoughts. “What if all this supernova business is a lie?”
“It’s not.”
“I’m supposed to have some sort of abilities—powers of some kind. I don’t think I do.”
“Even if you don’t, you’re the light we've been waiting for. That’s enough.”
“Madrigal, you’ve got to stop questioning yourself,” states a voice coming from the tunnel.
Peter rolls his eyes. “Why are you in this conversation?”
Royce steps outside. “I couldn’t help overhearing. I was coming to see if you needed to be relieved.”
“I’m fine,” Peter mumbles.
Royce turns to look at me, his dark eyes curious. “You look different,” he states.
“Yeah,” snaps Peter. “She’s totally beautiful.”
“She’s always been beautiful.”
I eye him, surprised that he’d pay me such a compliment.
“I already told you that I don’t need relief,” Peter states. “You can go back in again.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.”
“You don’t either.”
“Who’s in charge of this expedition?” Royce growls.
Peter stares furiously at him.
“Who?” Royce repeats.
“Just because you’re in charge doesn’t mean you can be a tyrant!”
“I’m not a—“
“Stop it you two,” I demand, tired of their squabbling.
Royce’s heavy sight travels from Peter to me, his eyebrows snapped tightly together. Sitting very near t
o one another, Peter and I stare defiantly back at him. His dark eyes on us and frowning mouth manage to make me self conscious as if I’m committing an act of treason.
Peter places his hand on my arm. My first instinct is still to slap it away but instead I take a deep breath. Our friendship is so important to me, I tell myself.
“Do you mind if we get some privacy?” Peter growls at his cousin. “‘Three’s a crowd.’”
Royce’s face snaps to mine. “Do you need some privacy too, Madrigal? Privacy with him?”
I don’t know what to say. “I . . . I—“
“Never mind—I’ve got to go,” he mutters, rushing back into the tunnel.
I’m completely puzzled over the whole conversation. “What just happened?”
“My cousin’s weird.”
“I’ve already gotten that.”
“Sorry about the privacy thing—that’s the only way I could get rid of him,” Peter explains.
“You wanted to get rid of him?”
“He’s such a pain,” Peter remarks.
“Peter!” I chastise. “He’s part of your family. I thought you were close.”
“Not anymore,” he grumbles.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Family is so important.”
“He’s acting like a tyrant just because Constanza made him the leader of our mission,” Peter scoffs.
“I tried to get her to consider you.”
“Thanks, Madrigal. You’re a true friend.”
“I dread him being the leader—ugh!”
Peter eyes me pensively. “Madrigal, I need to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“You don’t think I’m a loser, right?” he asks quietly, his face hopeful.
“Why would I think that?” I’m baffled by his question.
“Constanza chose him and not me.”
“So?”
“I just couldn’t stand it if you saw me as a goof off,” he blurts.
“Peter, you’re the best person in this place.”
His eyes flicker at me. “You know I’ll always be there for you, don’t you?”
I nod energetically. As long as we’re speaking heart to heart I feel the need to ask him what has been gnawing at me for a while. “Peter, do you remember when I was detoxifying?”
“Boy, do I. It was awful seeing you so out of it.”
“Were you the one who stayed with me?” I blurt. “I know someone was in the room with me.”
He eyes me carefully, not wanting to speak.
“I know someone was with me,” I repeat. “So don’t deny it.”
“I’m not going to deny it anymore,” he mumbles. “I couldn’t stand seeing you that way, so I stayed with you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“There are secrets I’m bound to,” he murmurs.
“Secrets?” My senses erupt.
“I can’t say anything else.”
“Are you Arthur?” I blurt before I’m able to catch myself.
He stares intently at me. “You mean, your imaginary friend?—the one who’s been with you since you were a kid?”
My mouth drops wide open. I can hardly breathe. “That’s him,” I manage to get out. If he knows about Arthur then it can only mean one thing. I’ve finally found the owner of the voice in my mind!
“Forget about Arthur—his usefulness is gone,” Peter announces, his vivid eyes solemnly on me. “He’s just a fantasy made up to help you through your bad stuff. It’s just you and me now—in the flesh and not stuck in your head.”
Breakfast is even more solemn than the dinner the night before. It is very palpable in the air that we may be going on a fool’s journey but everything inside of me is saying we’re doing the right thing. I no longer have any lingering doubts.
My real parents are beckoning me to my new life.
If I play my cards right, I’ll be free from my fake parents and drugs. If I don’t, I may perish but the risk is worth it. Even with the strange animosity between Peter and Royce, I can see that they feel the same about our mission. They wouldn’t dream of backing out. I don’t think they’ve considered it for even half a second.
I haven’t either but ever since my discussion with Peter yesterday, I’ve been trying to keep my head from losing focus. The earth shattering discovery about Arthur can pull me deep into an ocean if I let it. I’ve got too much of a difficult road ahead of me to allow my concentration to waiver. During the past few weeks, it’s been one incredible revelation after another. I’ve got to assimilate them as much as possible. I come to the conclusion that Peter is right about Arthur. Fantasy has to be left behind because we have to concentrate on reality. Besides, why do I need a fictional Arthur when I have the real thing in Peter?
I eat my huevos rancheros—thick tomato sauce with peppers on top of fried eggs and corn tortillas. I try to let the delicious taste linger in my mouth even though I’m not very hungry. The guys tell me that we don’t know what’s in store for us—starving may be a reality out there.
“Eat everything you can,” commands Constanza.
I nod and take a bite of bacon. Peter and Royce also eat slowly. Their appetites aren’t as hardy as they usually are, and a faraway look overtakes their eyes.
“We need to talk about something,” Royce announces, grumbling. “And we have to cover it before we go.”
“What is it?” Peter questions, his tone icy.
“This is a very dangerous mission.”
Peter rolls his eyes. “Tell us something we don’t know.”
“We have to be a coherent group.”
“We are a coherent group,” Peter announces defensively.
Royce shakes his head quietly. “We’re not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter questions.
Royce’s dark eyes sit heavily on Peter. “You and Madrigal are a team, but I’m left out.”
“Don’t be sill—”
“Peter, hear him out,” Constanza demands.
“But—”
“I’m not part of your team,” Royce asserts quietly.
“Royce is right,” agrees Constanza. “I’ve noticed it too.”
I turn my puzzled face to her. “You’ve noticed it?”
“I think you still resent Royce for what happened at your school,” explains Constanza.
I was going to deny it, but it’s useless to do it. Somewhere inside of me, I still resent the horrible experience he condemned me to when he was with QT100. I know it’s petty and unfair of me since he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t, but unfortunately, those bruises are still a deep throbbing purple. Anyway, I’m not sure if I’d like the guy even if we had just met. He was beating up his own cousin very badly when I stopped him with my slingshot.
“Let’s agree to put our differences away while we get to the Freedom Warriors Headquarters,” Royce suggests.
“Okay,” mumbles Peter.
“Yeah,” I agree.
“We have to work as a cohesive group,” Royce brings up again.
“And don’t forget that Royce is the leader,” Constanza asserts. “There’s a good reason why he’s the one in charge.”
Peter nods solemnly. “I got it.”
“If you want to stay alive then you’d better follow him and not give him any grief.”
“Okay,” I say.
Constanza eyes me with a chastising expression. “Both you and Peter need to get it through your heads that Royce is the only one who’s made it to our headquarters undetected and lived to tell about it. Do what he tells you to do.”
As I nod, someone steps in through the door opening of the dining room. I don’t allow my shock to paralyze me as I grab my slingshot.
It’s a government guardian.
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