Wonder

by Christina C Jones

  Jab, Bandz, and JuJu, none of whom I felt like being bothered with.

  They were – somehow – the self-appointed superiors of the other generals. It amused Ches, so she let it rock, as long as they deferred to me. They annoyed the shit outta me sometimes, taking their position so seriously, but they were good at it. Natural leaders, and there was never a need to question where their loyalties centered.

  They’d die for Ches.

  Anybody in this room would… or they’d die for daring not to.

  “You know what this is about?” JuJu asked, sweeping her long weave over her shoulder, with the same long, pointed nails that Ches favored for herself. She idolized the woman, wrapping herself in things that could’ve come straight from Ches’ closet. “She paged everybody.”

  Jab looked around, his lips moving as he counted the bodies in the room. “Everybody except the street kids accounted for.”

  “Somebody has to keep eyes out,” Bandz chimed in, taking a long drag from an ancient electronic cigarette. I remembered seeing it in Mosely’s lab, one of his restoration projects.

  Now that they’d spoken, all their eyes came to me, waiting for input I didn’t have. I’d learned years ago that interpreting the moves Ches made wasn’t my specialty, so I didn’t try.

  I just showed up where I was supposed to be.

  They were still looking at me when the object of everyone’s curiosity entered, wearing a jeweled bikini top and leather mini skirt – jade green, of course. JuJu squealed, gushing on a whispered breath about how good Ches looked. Jab and Bandz agreed, but it wasn’t her outfit and hair that impressed them.

  I figured the way she looked was at least 20-50% of the reason people followed Ches, just depending on the day. Sure, she offered safety, a sense of belonging, a chance for survival, and access to excess – those things comprised most of their loyalty. But, honestly , ninety-nine percent of this crowd wanted to be her, fuck her, or both.

  And then there were those like me, and Mosley, who knew her before she’d become the Ches. To us, she was family.

  “Hello little ones,” she sang, addressing the group as she came to stand beside me. She met my eyes, saying without speaking that she wanted to see me after this, alone. “I have bad news.”

  JuJu, Bandz, and Jab all stood a little straighter at those words, a reaction that the other pursued. I stayed where I was, wondering what bad news she could have decided not to address with me first, before bringing it to everyone.

  But I knew she had her reasons.

  She always had her reasons.

  “There’s been an act of aggression,” Ches said, her tone almost scarily calm. “Division Eight.”

  My mind went to Kimberly Tremaine, and her ongoing feud with Ches. I had my suspicions, but I’d never gotten a straight answer about the source of their disdain for each other. Whatever it was, it ran deep, and God help anybody who got between them.

  “When do we ride out?” Bandz asked, already pulling his gloves from the strap at his belt.

  Ches rewarded him with a smile, but shook her head. “There’s no need for that yet.” She turned to the group. “I don’t want to hear about any of you in Division Eight causing any trouble – this is a provocation we will not respond to, because we’re better than that,” she declared.

  The group nodded along with her words, not picking up that she was leaving out what was obvious – this wasn’t some noble speech about nonviolence, it was a delay. Time to think about it and make plans. To retaliate when it was least expected – and she would retaliate to whatever this “act of aggression” was, and she wouldn’t show any mercy, and it wouldn’t be traced back to her.

  It wasn’t her style.

  “The reason I’m telling you this, is to encourage diligence. We have enough danger on our hands with the Knights playing fast and loose with the boundaries, and not to mention those hooligans from Division Four.”

  Oof.

  Dee and Dem would’ve rolled their eyes about that jab – they were from Four, which was nice as hell – one of the few places that still had clean beaches and the best rum money could buy these days. But Ches didn’t like us over there because Ches was beefing with Sula Archer.

  Because Ches beefed with everybody who didn’t do what she wanted.

  “Whatever you do, be safe,” Ches insisted. “I don’t want to bury anybody. I’ve done enough of that, okay?”

  “Consider it done,” Jab told her, with a little salute that earned him one of those treasured smiles.

  “Maddox.”

  No further instruction necessary.

  I peeled myself up from my seat, following her to the private elevator at the front of the garage. As soon as the doors closed on us, she dropped the zen bullshit, turning with flared nostrils.

  “Those motherfuckers blocked my shipment,” she growled, her hands hooking into claws in the air as she paced, frustrated. “A whole fucking truck of product – poof. Gone!” She pulled herself together when the elevator opened into her office, making sure it was empty before launching in again. “How the fuck am I supposed to run a business if I can’t get products?!”

  I took a seat at the edge of the desk. “What was it? Where was it coming from?”

  “Spices. From nine.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. Fucking ouch,” Ches muttered, raising a high-heeled foot to kick her chair, sending it tumbling to the floor. “Ugggh!” She whipped around, turning with blazing eyes. “I want Kimberly Tremaine’s heart. On a platter.”

  “And Ruby Hartford wants you. You move on Tremaine, you know what will happen,” I responded, paying no mind to the cutting nature of her gaze. Ches could be mad all she wanted, but facts were facts. Ruby only let Ches breathe because of a commitment her husband had made – he’d promised her space to conduct her business, and Ruby had honored that. But expanding territory, attacking other Division heads, wasn’t part of the deal.

  Ruby was dying for Ches to break ranks first, just itching for Ches to give her any reason to become an aggressor. Just like it wouldn’t surprise me for Ches to claw Kimberly Tremaine’s heart out herself, I was confident about Ruby’s hatred. All she needed was a nudge, and she’d be at the front door with that goddamn blade to claim a certain head.

  Ches knew it too.

  And it burned her the fuck up.

  “Then let it happen,” she bluffed, looking around for something else to kick over or destroy. When she found nothing – at least, nothing worth the mess – she flopped down on the couch, fuming. “This shit makes me look weak. I can’t let it stand. Tremaine is only fucking with me because that over-inflated bitch Sula put her up to it.”

  Nah.

  It was more like, Kimberly Tremaine was fucking with her because Dre Tremaine had spent more nights in Division Three, in Ches’ bed, than he’d spent at home with his wife. I didn’t see a need to point that out though.

  “Listen,” I said, moving from the desk to take a seat near her, on the arm of the couch. “I’ve got contacts with APF, a couple of guys I trust. Let me see what I can do, aiight?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have contacts with APF too.”

  “Your contacts will tattle to Ruby. Mine won’t,” I told her, nudging her leg with mine, which made her shoot me a scowl.

  “Fine. But don’t think I don’t know this isn’t just an excuse for you to go to the Mids to see that little starry-eyed girl. You’re not slick, Mad.”

  I smirked. “Never claimed to be.”

  “Uh huh.” She sat up, hooking her hand under my chin to cup my face. “You be careful. You hear me?”

  “Always.”

  Her grip tightened – not in intimidation, with worry – “I’m serious. You know how I feel about my people. Especially Mos. Especially you. If something happens to you, you know I’ll burn down everything the Earth hasn’t already taken back.”

  I tossed an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah. I know. I told you though, I’m good. Always.”r />
  “Uh huh.” Her tone was harsh, but she returned my embrace. “You make sure you don’t let that damn girl get you in any trouble.”

  I frowned as I stood, already planning my trip to the Mids.

  “Alyson Little, get me in trouble?” I sucked my teeth, shaking my head as I moved for the door. “That shit ain’t possible.”

  Ten

  I stood at the coffee machine, wondering what would happen if I drank it all.

  If instead of my proper serving, I picked up the whole damn container of needed caffeine, cradling it to my chest while I sipped with a straw, daring anybody to come near me or try to take it away.

  A girl could dream, right?

  Instead of doing any of that, I followed the rule, taking my tiny ration and sitting down, hoping to have the break room to myself. I needed it. So, so bad.

  My eyes drifted closed as I took my first sip, savoring it. Before I could take another, I heard too-familiar footsteps. When I opened my eyes, Lori was standing at the other side of the table where I was seated. Arms crossed. Frowning.

  “Not working,” she sniped. “How unsurprising.”

  For a week now, Lori had been throwing this same barb, not caring how ridiculously unfair it was. My days off were supposed to be mine, and were the only times I didn’t show up to work. For whatever reason though, Lori had taken exception to my not being available at her beck and call, and would not let it go.

  Nadiah and I had returned home from our little adventure in the Burrows with four hours to spare before I needed to be at the salon for my shift. While Nadiah settled in, I’d opted to check the phone messages first, in case there was anything from Gran. There was – her checking in about Nadiah while being careful of her words. But there were also several messages from Lori.

  I listened to all four, alarmed at how they evolved – devolved – from a curt but polite request for me to take a sick stylist’s place, to veiled threats against my job because I wasn’t returning her calls.

  It wasn’t okay.

  Even if I had been in the Mids, there was no guarantee I would’ve been home for those messages, not with a sick grandmother in assisted living. And if that weren’t the case, it still didn’t give her the right to make demands of my private time.

  But I needed this job.

  That was the only thing that stilled my tongue, saving Lori from the verbal lashing I so wanted to give. Vaguely, I wondered if I would be so moved by any of this before my trip to the Burrows had opened my eyes.

  Probably so.

  The difference now was that I knew I had other options.

  Harriet breezed into the break room wearing a smile that faded as soon as she saw Lori. Her – artificially – gray tresses swung around her face as she whipped her head back, pretending as if the sight of Lori was like a blow to the chin.

  Well… not exactly pretending.

  My face must’ve given something away, because Lori turned fast, attempting to catch Harriet in the act. She was already done with her silliness though and was pulling out a mug to stand at the coffee machine herself.

  Lori rolled her eyes, then turned back to me. “I want you on the floor as soon as your break is over.”

  “Aren’t I always?” I retorted, before I could catch myself. Lori’s eyes bugged wide – she wanted to say something ugly back, but there was no denying the truth of my words.

  I was always here when I was supposed to be.

  I always did my best, which was twice as good as most of the other stylists here.

  I didn’t complain, I didn’t give her attitude, I had steady clients who loved me – I was an ideal employee, all the damned time. I understood that she’d been in a bind being a stylist short, but it was nonsensical to take it out on me. And if she said one more thing at this moment… I would snap.

  But she didn’t.

  Her nose scrunched, and her top lip curled, but her mouth didn’t open. She turned and stomped off, and Harriet turned with wide eyes as she set her coffee ration in front of me. “Should we refer to you as Alyson Little, slayer of dragons?”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “She and her hot breath will be back. Forget her. I want to know how Nessa is doing on those… you know.”

  The restrained smile that passed over her lips told me everything, but she still leaned in to gush, “Working like a miracle, thanks to the good people of Division Two.”

  “Good,” I told her, putting a hand to my chest. “I’m glad it worked out.”

  “They better had,” she giggled. “Imagine if I’d bailed on an appointment with Ruby for nothing? Thank you again for doing that for me.”

  “It was nothing.”

  Just like every other time she’d brought Ruby up, I said as little as possible, dreading the inevitable moment she’d find out she’d essentially been replaced. It had been a week since I styled Ruby, which meant she’d be back in the next few days. I had done nothing wrong, but it sure as hell felt like it – so much that I barely glanced at the promised coffee ration she’d slid in front of me, knowing it would feel like lead in my stomach.

  “I’ve gotta get back out there,” I said, rising from my seat. “Wouldn’t want to keep Sargent Lori waiting.”

  Harriet laughed, retrieving the coffee for herself. “I mean, if you aren’t going to drink it…”

  “Please, go ahead,” I told her, heading toward the exit.

  “Aly, hold up,” she called, and I stopped, turning to her. “You seem… I dunno. Something is different with you.”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know what to tell you. Same old Aly.”

  She shook her head. “It’s fine, keep your little secrets,” she teased. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready. Just know I’m ready, okay?”

  I laughed. “Noted. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she called after me as I headed back down the hall.

  I didn’t know what made her think something was different with me – I’d thought I was putting on a good façade.

  But apparently not.

  As much as I was trying to pretend everything was normal, that I didn’t know what I did, that everything was okay… it wasn’t.

  And I wasn’t the “Same old Aly”.

  “Nadiah, are you ready to go?!” I called one more time as I slipped my feet into my shoes. My previous two inquiries had been ignored, so when I still didn’t get a response, I grabbed my jacket from the bed and headed down the hall to her room.

  This time a week ago, I’d been heading out with Maddox in hopes the mysterious “Blue” could help me pinpoint my sister so I could bring her home. Now, I was trying to get her out of the house to go see our grandmother.

  I rapped on her door, and when I didn’t get an answer, I opened it anyway, smiling when my gaze landed on Nadiah. She was putting on shoes too, but was too enthralled by the music pumping into her ears – and singing along - to notice my presence. The thin navy cords peeking out of her braids gave it away.

  To get her attention, I waved my arms. Her eyes got big, then a slow, embarrassed grin crept across her face. “Sorry,” she said. “Were you trying to talk to me?”

  “Just seeing if you were ready to go. I hate to tear you away, but…”

  “Granddaughter duty calls,” she finished for me, with a nod. It wasn’t just “duty” to either of us, but making it an obligation ensured it didn’t get lost in the vast depths of our other priorities. I watched as she pulled the wired earbuds from her ears, taking care to treat them with all the delicacy of an antique – which is what they were, really.

  Many Apex residents had an implant which allowed music to be called up directly in their heads. Others, without the implant, used “seeds” – a tiny device that clung to the skin like a sticker, broadcasting for only that person. Both options were only for those who could afford it – unlike the Burrows, where music had been available to everyone.

  Nadiah tucked away her treasured gift from Mosley, a tiny neon blue music player that ran
on a battery. In the back of my mind, I was dreading the day that battery would go out, knowing it would break her heart. In the meantime, I was just happy about how happy she was. She wasn’t moping about not being able to see Mosley, just reveling in having met someone so exciting, who’d been able to show her something new.

  I was hoping some of that energy might rub off.

  Unlike her, I was feeling moody and agitated – because I had been engaged in more than just innocent flirting. It hadn’t been enough to just enjoy the dance lesson Maddox had given, or just his company, or just leaving it at the kiss.

  No.

  It had gone so much further – so far that I couldn’t shake the memory. The comfort of his body wrapped around mine, the heat and pressure of his hand, the rasp of his tongue, the scent of his cologne… it was all on a loop in my brain, playing in high definition at inconvenient moments.

  Like when I was headed out with my sister to visit my grandmother.

  I shook my head as if that would help drive away the inappropriate playback.

  “Let’s get on the road,” I encouraged Nadiah as she slid her drawer closed. “The earlier we get there, the more time we can spend before we have to come back – I’m trying to avoid being out late. you know how it gets.”

  Nadiah’s head bowed. “Unfortunately.”

  A few minutes later we were on our way, sticking close as we headed for the bus stop. I usually wouldn’t splurge, but Ruby’s huge tip from last week gave me enough breathing room to make our trip a little more comfortable.

  Once we got there, I was glad I’d made that choice.

  From the second we walked in, I knew something was up, just from the way the receptionist greeted us. Her bright smile didn’t reach her eyes, and instead of pointing us down the hall to Gran, she asked us to wait, while she paged the nurse.

  My frustration and anxiety only built as we sat down, waiting and waiting, and waiting more. Beside me, Nadiah was panicking a little, her hands shaking as she peppered me with questions I didn’t have answers to. What’s going on, why is it taking so long, do you think Gran is okay? I wished like hell I knew, but this wasn’t some fairytale where I could just close my eyes, make a request, and have it fulfilled.