Greenhouse

by Stephanie Mylchreest

  “Where do you suppose that light came from?” she says eventually.

  “It must have come from the mainland,” I reply.

  “Yes, maybe. I wonder why they went to such great lengths to hide it. I mean… I can’t understand why they wouldn’t want us to have such… things.”

  “I don’t know, Marissa.”

  Rich’s anger seems to have cooled, and he slows down until the three of us are walking abreast. I offer him the last apple, which he takes with a wry smile.

  “You know,” I say to them. “When I was on the mainland with Delphine, I saw a huge ship in the waters of New York City. It had white lights in the windows that were not made from fire. They glowed bright and steady, unlike anything I have ever seen before. Well, at least until now. That cylinder I dropped is the same as the lights on the boat.”

  “Who did the boat belong to?” asks Marissa thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know for certain. I asked Millie about it. Millie is the woman who helped us get to the library.” I pause for a moment, thinking of all that is about to go unsaid about Millie. I experience a rush of sadness for lost friends. “But she wouldn’t tell me. She said they were bad news.”

  “How can a light be bad news?” asks Rich.

  “I guess she meant the owners of the light. Shortly after we left, a violent gang came through the city, pillaging and destroying everything in their path. The huge boat, filled with lights, belonged to them. They probably have all kinds of things we don’t know about.”

  “So we could find more of these when we get to the mainland?” asks Rich.

  “Most people live like us, but in squalor. Only some people have access to the lights—people like the gang leaders, and trust me when I say they are not people we want to be tangled up with.”

  “Hey, we are almost back to the willow tree,” says Marissa. “I can’t wait to show everyone the things we’ve found at Elder Spool’s house.”

  We reach the willow and I whistle twice. Someone returns my whistle. One by one we enter the space inside. Delphine greets me first. She wraps her arm around my neck and kisses me full on the lips. I look over her shoulder and mother and Abigail are watching us. I’m embarrassed so I hug her briefly and let go. Rich is standing with the others, retelling the story of our raid on Elder Spool’s home.

  “We almost died of shock when your sister came in to the room,” says Rich to Carl.

  Carl looks surprised and then worried. “Is she okay?” he asks. “You didn’t do anything to her?”

  “She asked to come with us,” says Marissa gently, smiling at Carl. She steps closer to him and rests her hand on his arm. She speaks in a low voice to him and I know she’s telling him the message from his little sister. I can see his sadness. Perhaps I misjudged him. I’m reminded of something and turn to Delphine.

  “We saw your dog, Delphine.”

  Max! Is he okay?

  “He seemed fine. He was with Carl's sister.”

  I have to get him. I need to take him with me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “There’s just no time. I’m sure he’s being well looked after.” I hold her hand and her eyes are sad in the candlelight.

  Rich is telling everyone about how I turned the cylinder on outside the village. The little girls giggle as he mimes Marissa’s scream and our frantic run through the forest. Then he passes around some items from the bag.

  “What’s this?” Marissa asks. She’s holding a fine wooden box and when she opens it, there is a good quantity of gold inside.

  “Wow, will you look at that.” Rich whistles long and low. “Where do you suppose this came from?”

  Delphine writes quickly in her notepad and passes it to Rich. He reads aloud from the page: “This must be from the gangs on the mainland. Millie told us that the gangs trade with the elders for the poppy seed pods we grow.”

  As the others discuss the discovery of the gold excitedly, Abigail walks over and lowers herself to the ground beside me. “We buried her,” says Abigail. “We dug a hole by the river. It was her favorite place on the island. We dug a hole and then we put her in. We laid a shawl over Mother’s body, over her face, so the dirt wouldn’t get in her mouth or eyes. I couldn’t watch when Father covered her. He wouldn’t let anyone help. He kept shoveling dirt and whispering her name.”

  “I’m so sorry Abigail. I’m so sorry.” I put my arm around her and she leans into me.

  The others are in a huddle, poring over the amazing objects we found. Ada is in the center of the group, explaining how this or that object works and what it does. Everyone is captivated. Then there’s a whistle from outside and Philip enters the willow tree. He must be returning from the boat that will finally take us off the island. He joins the group and is looking at the objects we recovered from Spool’s place.

  Sally’s calls from the other side of the broad willow trunk: “Hey, I want to see. Can one of you guard the prisoners?”

  I’d forgotten momentarily about our captives.

  “I’ll go,” says Carl. He runs his hands through his black, shaggy hair. Rich turns to me and I give him a long look. He knows I’m still cautious of Carl's motives.

  “I’ll go with you,” says Rich. “We don’t have long, anyway, until we need to leave for the boat. How are the preparations going?” he asks Philip.

  “We’re ready to go,” replies Philip. “We need to take one of the rowboats to get out to the boat, and with so many of us we’ll need to take a couple of trips, or a couple of boats. That’s probably our main vulnerability while we are getting off the island.”

  Rich starts a conversation with Philip about the boat, and Ada—perhaps seeing my concern, taps Rich on the shoulder and tells him she will go with Carl to keep guard over the prisoners. I flash her a grateful smile.

  “Mother,” I call out. “We will have to round everyone up soon. The sun will rise shortly and we need to be on the main boat before day breaks fully.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I’ll let everyone know and we can make our way down to the beach. I can’t believe all these wonderful things that were being held by the elders. Ada just showed me this amazing device which has two parts that can talk to each other. You could take one, and I could take one, and we could walk to opposite ends of the island and could talk to each other!”

  “That sounds amazing,” I say, trying to summon some enthusiasm.

  I’m looking at my mother’s face when it suddenly creases in alarm. “Jackson! No!” she yells.

  We all freeze. My father has stepped out from the other side of the willow trunk and is pointing a gun at Ada’s head. Elder Spool stands happily beside him, waving a gun around.

  “Right, all of you. Stand up,” barks Elder Spool. “Slowly, with no sudden movements.”

  One of the little girls starts to cry and Sally hushes her urgently. Those of us who were seated, get to our feet. It can’t end like this. Not after the sacrifices we’ve made, the people we’ve lost.

  “You can go,” I say hastily, my hands outstretched before me. “Father, Elder Spool, we will let you go.”

  Both men laugh bitterly.

  “It seems the tables have turned, son,” says my father. Now, all of you walk in single file out of this tree. It’s over. Your little rebellion is finished.”

  There’s no hope of escape, that much is clear. Sally and her family are the first to shuffle to the curtain, their daughters in their arms. Spool trains his gun on them.

  “Wait here,” Spool says to Sally. “Wait until the others have joined you. I want you all to form a neat, orderly line.”

  I stare at Elder Spool, full of hatred. I can easily imagine Carl loosening the ropes that bound his father. I will get my revenge for his ultimate betrayal.

  Philip and his family are the next to move. Marissa is behind her parents, and in the dim light I can tell she’s holding something in her hand. She presses it deep into the folds of her tunic. As she approaches me she opens her eyes wide and tilts her head a
lmost imperceptibly at my father. She wants me to deal with him. We have nothing to lose so I take a small step closer to my father.

  “Father, please. If you let us leave now, we’ll go quietly. We’ll just disappear.”

  I take another small step.

  “You don’t deserve to just disappear,” he spits at me. “You must be punished for this vile blasphemy you’ve brought to our island, our sanctuary from danger.”

  “Please, Father,” I say. I take another small step. I look around and everyone is watching the exchange.

  Marissa catches my eye and mouths: “Now”.

  I fling myself at my father. We crash to the ground and there is a deafening gunshot and a scream of pain. My father and I roll around frantically. I grab the gun and pull it from my father’s grasp. He kicks me hard, and again, then gets to his feet and runs out into the night.

  “Rich!” I yell. “Rich, he’s getting away.” I search through the turmoil and confusion unfolding around me for my brother.

  I see Rich crouching over someone on the ground. My mother is there too. I move quickly towards them, sidestepping Carl who is sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. As I get closer to Rich, I see Marissa. She’s lying on the ground, wounded. I sprint the last few steps.

  “Marissa! Mother, what happened?”

  My mother is holding a thick wad of bandages against Marissa’s stomach. The deep red blood oozing out despite the pressure sickens me. Philip has Marissa’s head cradled in his lap and her mother sits next to them, crying silently and stroking Marissa’s hair. Marissa’s eyes are closed and she’s deathly pale.

  “She threw a knife at Elder Spool,” says my mother softly. “She hit him in the chest. He’s dead now. Your father fired the shot that hit her.”

  I turn to look at Spool’s body on the ground, his long black hair floating in a puddle of blood. Mason Spool, the once mighty elder, dead by the hand of a village girl. I feel nothing at his death. I am not even glad.

  “Is Marissa okay? We need to move her. Did you know father has escaped? We need to leave. We’ll all be captured if we don’t leave soon.”

  As I speak, Marissa groans deeply. My mother ignores me and speaks directly to her parents. “She has a lot of internal bleeding. The bullet has gone through her stomach and caused a significant amount of damage.”

  “What can you do?” asks her mother. “Please. We have to help her. Tell me what you need. I’ll get it.”

  Rich passes my mother another swathe of bandages. She quickly swaps it with the bandages pressed against Marissa’s abdomen and I see, even in the dim light, that the old bandages are saturated with blood. Marissa groans again and convulses briefly before vomiting. I turn Marissa’s head to the side and wipe her mouth clean with my tunic. I stroke her cheek softly.

  “I’m so sorry. There is never any easy way to say this,” says my mother. I know what she is about to say. Not now. Not Marissa. I glance at her parents and have to turn away.

  “There’s nothing I can do for her,” my mother says slowly, gently.

  Marissa’s mother cries out in agony.

  “There must be something you can do,” Philip says desperately. “Please Ellie, I’m begging you. She’s our only daughter.”

  My mother is crying now. “If she wakes again, she will be in a lot of pain,” my mother says. “It’s hard to know how long she may last, drifting in and out of consciousness.” She tries to take Philip’s hand but he pulls away.

  “Mother,” says Rich somberly. “I think we need to move people out of here. Father could be back at any moment and the new day is fast approaching.”

  “Yes, my son. Please. Take them out of here and down to the beach.” She turns back to Marissa’s parents.

  “I have something that will help to numb the pain and which will limit her suffering,” she says to them both.

  “You mean, kill her?” cries Philip.

  “It’s the kindest thing,” says my mother. “I don’t want her to suffer.” My mother’s confirmation hangs in the air.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Once again the world is spinning and I am standing still in the middle of it all. This time I’m not at the revel. Delphine isn’t laughing giddily beside me. This time, my friend Marissa is lying next to me, slowly bleeding to death. Her mother and father hold her, incapable of saving her.

  There is chaos all around us as the others prepare to leave the safety of the willow tree, prepare to leave the island forever.

  Words slowly swim into focus.

  “Who hit you?” someone is asking.

  “I don’t know,” says another voice. I think it must be Ada speaking. “I had my back turned for a moment and everything went black.”

  “And how did they get past you?” asks another voice, heavy with accusation.

  “I don’t know how they got loose,” replies someone else.

  I raise my head slowly and the world sharpens. I focus on the mayhem around me. Nearby, Carl has his back against the tree. Sally is holding up Ada—her face is bleeding, as they interrogate Carl.

  “I was watching them, and next thing Elder Kennedy hits the gun out of my hand with a stick and they grabbed it when it fell to the ground.”

  “You expect us to believe you?” retorts Sally. “He’s your father. You wanted to free him.”

  “I swear Sally! I swear on The Book! I would never betray you like that. Now my father is gone…” Carl’s voice drifts away, and he stares at his father’s body lying crumpled on the ground.

  “I think it’s time you leave,” says Sally.

  “Where should I go?” asks Carl helplessly.

  “Anywhere but here. Now go!” yells Sally, leaning her face close towards Carl.

  “That’s enough Sally,” cries my mother, walking over to them. “Carl, you aren’t going anywhere. Come and sit by me. Wait for us. We can all go down to the boat together.” She turns to Sally and touches her arm. “You’ve been through so much. We all have. But we need to leave here. Will you please take Ada and go to the beach with your family? I’ll be with you all soon.”

  My mother kisses her briefly on the cheek and turns to Ada. She touches the side of her head gently. Ada winces from the pain.

  “You’ll need stitches Ada. Come over to Chris before you go. He can do this for you.” Mother’s eyes find me and I nod, grateful for something to do. I reach into her pack to find a needle and some thread. Ada sits next to me and I ask her to lie with her head on my lap and her wound facing up. She grits her teeth but I make quick work of the stitches. I clean away the dried blood as best I can and apply some healing balm.

  “Thank you, Chris,” she says.

  I help her up. We stare at one another warily until she notices Marissa and her parents. Philip is still holding the bandages tightly against Marissa’s abdomen.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Ada asks in a low whisper.

  “She was shot. She has serious internal bleeding,” I reply. My sadness is overwhelming. My voice cracks as I tell Ada: “She won’t make it off the island with us.”

  “I wish I could do something. We have medicine and doctors on the station. I’m sure we could have saved her. But here on the island, you have nothing.”

  Ada is right, but what can I say? None of that will save Marissa now. A deep anger at the elders is burning inside me.

  “Ada, it’s time to go,” says Sally. Ada glances once more at Marissa, before exiting swiftly through the leafy curtain with the others.

  Marissa opens her eyes. She cries out and then drifts back into unconsciousness. “Ellie,” says Philip urgently. “There must be something you can do. Let’s take her to the boat. You can work on her when we are on board.”

  My mother’s face fills with sorrow. “We can’t move her,” she says to them. “There’s nothing that can be done. Moving her will cause her intense pain and it will be for nothing. Even on the boat, I can’t save her. I know you don’t want to hear this. I also know you don�
�t want her to be in pain or to suffer.”

  “But that can’t be right,” says Philip. “Please, Ellie!”

  “I wish there was something I could do. You know if there were, I would do it in an instant. I love Marissa. I’ve watched her grow from a baby into a fine young woman.” My mother pauses. I scrub roughly at the tears in my eyes. She takes Philip’s hand and speaks softly: “The best we can do now is ease her passing.”

  Marissa’s parents stare at each other wretchedly. They cannot speak. Philip’s tears are heavy now, pouring unremittingly over his cheeks as he looks at his daughter. He tenderly brushes the hair from her face.

  I can tell from the way he touches the coldness of her skin, the way he appraises the odd, grey sheen, that he can see the truth. He clenches the blood-soaked bandages—which he holds faithfully against his daughter’s wound, so tight that his knuckles go white.

  “If anyone will do it, it will be me,” he says, not taking his eyes off Marissa. His wife wails long and low, her voice leaden with grief and mourning.

  My mother reaches in her pack and pulls out a small vial of clear liquid. She passes it to Philip and tells him to open Marissa’s mouth and pour it towards the back of her throat. He takes the vial in one hand and uses the other to slide Marissa’s jaw open. He falters and her mouth closes. I can barely watch, yet I can’t tear myself away. I am honor-bound to witness Marissa’s death, to witness the last moments of her life.

  Philip steadies himself and holds Marissa’s mouth open again. He’s forgotten to undo the lid of the vial and he breaks down in heaving sobs. My mother reaches over and delicately lifts the lid. Her hand closes briefly over Philip’s, steadying him.

  Philip puts his calloused, sea-worn hand for a third and final time under his daughter’s chin. He pulls gently with his thumb to open her mouth. “I love you,” he whispers to Marissa. He tips the contents of the vial into her mouth. She splutters and swallows.