by Jes Drew
Mickey looks up in confusion, and I turn to Christopher. “What?”
He sighs a long-suffering sigh. “Donald found my Bible while I was out talking to another student.” Christopher narrows his eyes. “By looking through my personal items, I might add.”
Donald grins, not looking apologetic at all. “It’s got these pages in the front for recording marriages and deaths like my grandma’s old Bible- and he’s got, like, your first three kids named.”
At this, even Violet chokes out a laugh.
I raise an eyebrow at Christopher.
He continues to glare at Donald.
“Unless-” Donald goes so pale his freckles seem red against his skin. “Do you actually have kids?! I mean, I heard Christians get married pretty young.”
Mickey’s jaw drops and her eyes widen. “What?!”
Violet rolls her eyes and gestures to her left ring finger which is as naked as mine.
Christopher groans and looks heavenward. “For crying out loud, Donald, get your own life so you don’t have to snoop through mine.”
“So glad my roommate doesn’t do that,” Violet says. “Or else I’d kill her.”
I shrink into Christopher slightly. “Um-”
Before the conversation can escalate any more, the doors open, and a dazed-looking kid walks in.
Christopher stands up. “That- that’s the kid who disappeared.”
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I watch as he stumbles over to a table. The students already sitting there barely even look up to welcome the returned prodigal.
“See?” Donald says. “He’s fine. Just like I said.”
Almost reluctantly, and still studying the kid, Christopher sits back down.
I grab his arm and try to get his attention back. “So, you named our kids already?”
“Just some ideas for names for future kids whenever I get married to whoever I get married too.”
Donald’s eyes glint as he leans forward. “Did I tell you about that he’s already got half a date filled out in the wedding section?”
“No,” Christopher says.
“You do too-”
“I am declining your invitation.”
Donald blinks. “What?”
“I don’t do frat parties. I’m too Christian for that.”
He wrinkles his face before turning to me. “What about you?”
“Didn’t you see his Bible?” I ask. “Where he goes, I go.”
Christopher squeezes my hand. But his gaze is back on the kid who disappeared, a million questions flashing in his eyes.
~~~
I glance at Violet as we walk to art class. Are we going to continue the conversation from this morning?
She ignores me and keeps staring straight ahead.
Okay, guess not.
I finish up my self-portrait during art period. What I’ll do the rest of the week, I’m not sure. Perhaps I’ll attempt to embellish it.
As Christopher walks me to swim class, I glance down at his bum leg. “You look like you’re walking more easily.”
“Yeah. I think this water therapy is really helping.”
I smile at him and he smiles back.
Then I’m in science class.
“Today, I want you to theorize,” Professor N. announces. “Let’s say there is a vaccine. This vaccine is effective, but it has one hiccup: if the person who has the vaccine is exposed to a certain frequency, their body shuts down.”
Donald whistles. “That’s some hiccup.”
Several students chuckle.
Well, at least he’s paying attention.
“This is serious,” Professor N. snaps. “If any of you become professional scientists, you’ll face problems like that often. Ridiculous as they seem, they're serious. Often they're solved only by being creative- by looking at the problem differently. So be creative as you ponder how to remove this anomaly from the vaccine.”
“Chicken soup!” someone calls.
“Chicken liver!”
“Live chicken!”
Covering my ears, I try to focus on the assignment. Try to think. Think outside the box… That’s it!
I raise my hand.
Professor N. turns to me. “Yes, Miss Rogers?”
“What if there was no way to rid the vaccine of the anomaly?”
He frowns. “There’s always a solution.” He turns to the rest of the class. “Anyone else?”
I take a deep breath. “Wait- I’m not done.”
Confused, Professor N. turns back to me.
Licking my suddenly very dry lips, I plunge on. “What I’m trying to say is that while there may be no cure for the vaccine itself, there may be a cure for the person with the vaccine. Like a way to reverse the side-effects of the vaccine without canceling out the benefits of the vaccine.”
Professor N. taps his chin with his pencil. “Interesting observation, Miss Rogers.” He scribbles something on a piece of paper. “Yes; very interesting.”
~~~
“What do you guys think of this whole ‘Cure’ business?” I ask at lunch- for some reason, my science lesson today brought it to mind again.
Donald thumps the table. “It’s awesome!”
Violet rolls her eyes. “It’s extremely unlikely.”
I glance at my boyfriend.
“I have to agree with you, Vi,” Christopher says.
“Don’t call me Vi, or I’ll be forced to hurt you- or call you Chris.”
Christopher nods once. “Understood.”
“Why are you skeptical?” Destiny asks. “It’s just as likely as superheroes- and those exist. I think that with this Cure, we could all be superheroes.”
“I don’t know,” Mickey says. “It sounds too good to be true. Oh, I just don’t know what to think.”
I sigh. “Same here. Same here.”
~~~
I take a seat across from Dr. Earnestine.
He looks up from his file and smiles. “Ah, Miss Rogers.” He gestures to his water dispenser. “Would you like a drink?”
“Oh, yes thank you.”
The next moment, the cup is my hand and I’m taking a sip.
Dr. Earnestine folds his hands and leans forward. “So, how are you? Any night terrors since last we talked.”
Sighing, I lean back in my chair. “Maybe.”
“Miss Rogers, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Did I tell you that I once suffered night terrors?”
I blink. “You did?” The truth can be very startling sometimes.
A mental list of other startling truths:
(1) People who can sleep pretty;
(2) People who can cry pretty;
(3) The existence of superhumans;
(4) Rabid rabbits;
(5) Gray hair (not that I've actually suffered from it- or rabid rabbits- but it'd still be a surprising truth whenever I do);
He nods. “I did.”
“What fixed it?”
“Therapy. That’s why I’m here, actually. Because I know how much it helps.”
Pursing my lips, I nod. I suppose I could put that on my list of possible careers. Psychology is pretty interesting.
I glance to where Christopher is at the doorway. I wonder what he’ll think of that.
“Is your boyfriend still waiting for you?”
“Hmm?” I turn back to Dr. Earnestine. “Yeah. He’s really protective of me.”
“Protective? Or do you mean overbearing?”
I blink. “Overbearing?”
“I mean no disrespect or anything. Bossy sometimes people in our lives who are well-meaning step out of place. Take control and do minating and annoying things.”
“Now, Christopher-”
“I’m not saying that’s necessarily the case, Miss Rogers. I just wanted to put it on your radar that there are dom people who can be nating on our nerves.”
I shake my head. Are his words even making sense? “No, Christopher has always been protective of me. He saved my life multiple times.�
��
Dr. Earnestine nods. “Oh, I understand. But I just thought it was pressing to bring it up to you, as your therapist. Men like him can be very territorial. He probably has your future children already named.”
Despite the water in my hand, my mouth goes dry. “That’s just his nature-”
“I know it is. But are you completely all right with that?” He leans forward, his eyes filled with concern. “I mean, if it is, bully for you. But if there is any part of you that feels even the slightest modicum of uncertainty about your relationship with Christopher and your place in it, maybe you should consider taking a step back? Just to make sure that your hands aren’t tied and you can ran for it all.”
I put my cup down to push my hair back, all my insecurities with my relationship coming to surface. I try to make myself look at Christopher, but I can’t.
Dr. Earnestine smiles before leaning back. “Sorry. I kind of go auto against oppressive relationships because their not all they’re cracked up to be.”
“Oh, I understand. It’s just- it’s not like that, okay?” I stand up and look for the trashcan.
“I understand also, Miss Rogers. And if you like him- well, he’s a lucky fellow.” Dr. Earnestine’s face goes serious. “Just promise me you won’t let him get in between you and your mental health, okay?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, men like him see anyone peeling back the levels of their relationship as a threat. He might try to encourage you to stop coming here to see me.”
“Oh, he wouldn’t.”
Earnestine smiles. “Splendid, then. Just jealid and splendous. Good day, Miss Rogers. And remember you can tell me anything, Miss Rogers. Anything. And I'll take care of it for you."
"Well, thank you..."
His smile deepens even as his eyes sadden, like he's upset to have to send me back into the harsh world. "Please, Emily, take care.”
Nodding, I move to open the door.
And startle to find that Christopher isn’t alone anymore. He’s talking to the kid from the cafeteria he said was the missing one.
The moment I come out, the kid nods at Christopher before stepping into the room I just came out of and taking my seat.
Christopher’s frown follows him before he turns back to me. “Well, how did it go?”
“Fine...” I start walking.
He seems to be struggling to keep up. I frown. But his leg was doing so well. Though, I am going a bit faster than usual.
I slow my pace slightly, and Christopher wraps his arm around my waist as we walk. A shiver runs up my spine at this rare physical contact.
“Are you sure it was ‘fine’?” he asks, his breath playing with my hair.
I swallow hard. “Wh-why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. I was talking to that kid for a few minutes, and, well, something just didn’t seem right about him. I mean, I didn’t know him before… whatever happened to him. But he seemed really desperate to get to his appointment.”
“Maybe he’s really punctual?”
“He was really early. And couldn’t seem to talk about anything long without coming back to how he couldn’t wait to go back to your Dr. Earnestine. It was like he was on replay or something.”
I frown. “Okay...”
“Look, it just… raised a few flags.”
“You don’t seriously think he’s drugging me still, do you?”
“No, but there are other ways of being addictive-
I stop walking so abruptly, Christopher almost falls over. Then I whirl around to face him. “Really, what is this about?”
He blinks. “What about?”
“Your doubts.” I gesture back at the office and then everywhere. “Your paranoia?”
Christopher frowns and steps toward me. “I’m not paranoid. But it’s my job to protect you.”
I take a step back. “There is no danger here, Christopher. You’re seeing things. And I know why.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, do you?”
“Jealous. You’re jealous.”
“What?”
“Of another man being in my life.”
“Really? Earnestine counts as another man in your life?” He glances back at the doctor’s office. “Should I be jealous?”
“No! Maybe you should give me some space. I know you have everything planned up for our ‘perfect’ little lives together, but I’m still figuring it out.” I wag a finger at him. “And I might just not be ready to be your fiancé.”
Christopher blinks, steps forward, and takes my hands in his. “Emily, I’m not trying to hurry you toward anything-”
I pull away. “Good- because there might not be an anything to begin with! Maybe it’s time for me to get some breathing space away from you and focus on me and my mental health for a moment, and not always so much on that.” I gesture at Christopher’s bum leg I didn’t ask him to get for me.
He follows my gesture. “Emily, I don’t understand.”
“No. You’re too busy being overbearing!” With that, I charge away.
“Emily!” Christopher calls, and I can hear him struggling to keep up.
But I’m going too fast for that to happen any time soon.
Chapter Twelve
Joseph Jones shakes his head. “Some people.”
Some people being the Prime Minister especially.
Grunting, Joseph shoves his hands into his pockets and makes his way across the village that had spent days bustling in preparation for the Prime Minister- who, when she finally did show up, said a few niceties and disappeared.
Not that he cares or anything. But it sure seemed rude to the people who were looking forward to the woman who seemed to cause time to look forward when he was supposed to be enjoying a vacation.
Joseph kicks at a twig as he closes the village door behind him before picking up his face and jogging toward the part of the Island he knows best. The Meadow.
He pauses at the top of a small hill above it to take in the assortment of colors blowing in the breeze below him, even more beautiful than when he was here last time, even. Though, to be fair, he was kind of worried he would lose his best friend then, so it put a damper on things.
But maybe now that Christopher’s securely positioned on this side of the veil, Joseph can consider bringing his fiancé over for a picnic or something romantic people usually do.
Letting out a whoop, Joseph charges down the hill and plunges into the meadow, running as fast as he can.
Until his foot collides with something, sending him somersaulting in the air before landing him face-first in a clump of morning glories.
“@#&!”
“Did you really just say keyboard keys instead of a proper exclamation?”
Startling, Joseph spits out the morning glories in his mouth and rolls over onto his back so that he can face the person who spoke.
The somewhat familiar-looking woman looks slightly younger than Ruth Rogers, and seems just as sophisticated despite the fact that she is lying on her stomach in the meadow. In a pencil skirt.
Joseph pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Yes, well, I spend a lot of time looking at keyboards. And the exclamation point is a perfectly good exclamation, thank you very much.”
The woman cocks her head at him causing her perfectly straight, perfectly silver chin-length hair to fall slightly over a once beautiful, though still wrinkle-less face with one eyebrow arched at him.
Then Joseph’s eyes fall on the woman’s own gray irises and his brain registers the connection and he jumps up. “Prime Minister Thompson! I’m so sorry- and I don’t apologize to just anyone, either.”
The woman smiles a motherly sort of smile. “It’s quite all right. And none of that titles nonsense- I’m incognito.” She winks at him before pushing herself up into a sitting position and proffering her hand. “My name is Eleanor. Yours?”
“Joseph. Joseph Jones.” He stares at the hand, wondering if it will give him rich and pow
erful germs.
He’d always wanted rich and powerful germs.
Eleanor smiles as he shakes her hand. “Nice to meet you, Joseph Jones.”
“The honor is all mine. And I don’t say that to just anyone either.”
Joseph’s eyes fall on a book lying next to Eleanor. “Is that a… young adult book?”
She laughs. “Not just any young adult fiction either.” She leans forward, as if to disclose a terrible secret. “It’s dystopian.”
“Dystopian?!” Joseph can’t help but laugh. “No way!”
“Yes way. But you mustn’t tell anyone. It would be an absolute scandal.”
Joseph taps his chin at this. “Tempting.”
Eleanor gasps jokingly.
“But don’t worry, ma’am; I’m not easily swayed by temptation. Besides, my friends think I’m crazy enough already. May I see it?” More rich and powerful germs coming his way...
She hands it to him, and Joseph leafs through it.
He frowns as he looks at all the small print and short hand in between lines and margins. “What’s up with all the notes?”
“Oh. I have a bad habit of scribbling in my books. Notes on the story, things I have to remember, a lyric I just heart- anything really.”
Joseph nods slowly as he looks at all the many, many notes. “You sure write a lot- but you did write a history, didn’t you? And an autobiography?”
Eleanor nods. “And- under a pen name, of course- a dystopian series of my own.”
“Now that’s a scandal waiting to happen.” Joseph looks really closely at one note. “Is that a phone number?”
“My doctor’s,” she answers, peering over his the book to see. “I like to keep that close. I’m old you know.”
Joseph shrugs. “You are that.”
Eleanor smiles and shakes her head at him. “You remind me of myself when I was your age- that was an eternity ago, and I’d almost forgotten. Please tell me more about yourself.”
Joseph shrugs again. He never was one to directly disobey the government, so why start today? “So, I was born in a hospital- before that I was conceived in Canada. Long story there...”