Flicker (11 page)

I open my eyes with a start as Perfection tugs at my wrist.

“What?” I’m annoyed to be jerked out of my bliss.

“Everyone is gone, what are you doing? I couldn’t get you to wake.”

“Was I sleeping?” I had no idea.

“Something like that, for an entire hour! Look, I’m
Perfection
. You can’t come here and ruin what I’ve worked so hard for. You need to stop asking questions and stop being so odd. I need you to act normal. At least until they reassign you.” She’s exasperated, but I don’t know why.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do anything I swear. That service was so … so….”

“Boring? I know. This is every single morning of our life. It is trying, I understand, even with my special privileges I can’t find a way to get out of it.”

Sleep? I wasn’t sleeping,
I was full of light.
I know there’s always light behind my eyes, but this was that feeling multiplied times a hundred. It wasn’t sleep; it was living in a way I never have before.

“Can we find my mom, please? Can you just use your special ‘whatever’ and get us to her? I’ve never been separated from her this long in my life.”

“Really? Never separated from your mom? At the Refuge we leave our moms when we’re born. Sure, mothers will come visit us in the nursery more often than the other Vessels do. But at sixteen? I’m lucky if I speak to my mom more than once a month.”

“Who’s your mom?”

“You met her last night, Vessel Honor.”

chapter sixteen

P
erfection agrees to take me to see Mom if I promise to ask the Council to correct the partner situation, she’s tired of sharing her space with me. Seeing the Humblemen again will be awkward but worth the chance to talk with Mom.

We find her in the vegetable greenhouse and I don’t hold back my smile, knowing she was partnered correctly after all. The greenhouse is huge, sprawling over an acre, full of colorful vegetation. It’s nothing like the small one we had on the compound, where Mom would attempt to revive beyond-dead plants, hoping to coax them into existence.

This greenhouse is a gardener’s paradise. Her partner must be working in another area, because I find Mom hunched over a row of lettuce, weeding alone. She has an apron tied around her yellow dress and gardening gloves on her hands. Gloves. Gloves I spent a lifetime wearing unnecessarily. It’s constricting to imagine putting them over my fingers now.

“Mom!” I run over to her, throwing decorum to the wind. “I miss you.” I wrap my arms around her, even though hugs have never been a part of our relationship. Relief spills over, landing on my cheeks.

“Oh, Lucy, don’t cry.” She takes off her gloves and brushes away my tears. Perfection’s eyes bore into us, but I don’t care. Mom is here, nothing scary is happening to her behind some unmarked door.  She’s alive, in a greenhouse, working in the soil, just like she did before the blackout.

“I was looking for you at the Haven this morning, but couldn’t find you in the crowd. Are you okay?” Mom asks.

“Yeah, I’m okay, but you … are you actually getting married?” I sputter, startled at the words coming from my mouth. Dad died a week ago.

“Yes.” She leans in to whisper, “Lucy, this is a good choice. We can’t fight it. You saw the world … there’s nothing else. Besides, this isn’t all bad.”

Not all bad? Just kids marrying men and mothers remarrying strangers and girls hoping to marry prophets. Not to mention sacred texts kept secret and children being raised by women other than their mothers. I don’t know much of the world, but I know the stories from my books. Stories have shaped the way I see things and I know enough to know this is wrong.

“Basil can’t marry that old guy, Mom. We’ve got to help her.”

“Lucy, that isn’t how this place works. There are worse things than marrying a stranger. Things like Hana starving to death on the outside.”

In some ways, I know she’s right. There’ve been plenty of cultures in our world’s history where arranged marriage is acceptable, where girls have no choice, societies where multiple wives is the norm, but I have to believe there’s another way.

The woman Mom was partnered with last night walks over to us.

“This is your daughter, Cecily?” Duty asks Mom.

“Hello. I’m Lucy,” I say sticking out my hand.

“Welcome to The Light. I see you’ve been partnered with Perfection. That must be quite a change for you.”

“Why’s that?” Mom asks Duty.

“Perfection has a special place at the Refuge, one we hope will bring favor to us upon the Nobleman’s arrival.” Duty bows her honey-colored head towards Perfection. Perfection smiles back without emotion.

“Well, we are only partnered for now, it isn’t a permanent situation,” she clarifies and then excuses herself to speak to another girl in the greenhouse.

“I see.” Mom says, as if this makes sense to her. I wonder what secret whisperings have gone on between her and Duty … what information Mom knows, and if it can help fill in my gaps.

“I’m going to be over here, the next row over. Come help me after you say good-bye to Lucy,” Duty instructs. “I hope to see you tonight at the Binding Ceremony. It’s an honor to have another Vessel in the family of Humbleman Resolve. Perhaps you will be Bound in our family one day, too.” Duty walks away and my face curls with disgust.

“Mom, this is nuts! I can’t do this!” I try to lower my voice, so no one hears me, but I can’t contain myself. How can there be a possibility of me marrying my mother’s husband … and how could that be okay with Mom?

She grabs my arm, “Get a hold of yourself. You’re not thinking rationally. We have no other choice. Here, you’re at least being taken care of, just make it work. I’m not going to lose you too.” Her fingers dig into my arm as I whimper in pain. She’s broken the skin with her hold.

“That hurts,” I say, pushing her off me. I rub my hand over the spot on my arm where she gripped me. Immediately the sting goes away, but I cringe when Mom sees what I see.

My hand holds a flicker of light once again, and this time it’s healing my flesh. The mark and sting from where Mom grabbed me is gone.

I clutch my hands together, extinguishing the light. It’s not that I’m scared of it, but Mom has always told me to keep it hidden. I’m not interested in drawing attention to myself, especially with Perfection so close by.

“That is a strange thing to happen now.” Mom says, deep in thought. The light is gone and I hold my hand up, showing her how I’m back to normal.

“No, it’s been happening a lot.”

“Maybe it’s time to tell the Council. Lucy, you can have everything. If they know your ability, you will have more privileges than that ridiculous girl over there.” She points to Perfection, who’s talking with a Vessel husking ears of corn.

Perfection’s hair is as fine as the cornsilk floating to the ground. But I’m not jealous of her, I’m too overwhelmed by this place to which I’ve suddenly been planted. Mom doesn’t seem to remember she just punctured my skin with her hold, or the absurdity of wanting to sell me out so fast. She’s forgotten everything important, like how for my entire life I’ve been taught not to trust anyone other then my compound members, but now she wants me to believe in people’s best intentions. I’m not like her, I can’t go from zero to one hundred overnight.

“Why would they care about my hand?”

“Maybe they can tap into it, haven’t you heard about the Nobleman?”

I shake my head in confusion and before I can answer her, Perfection returns, linking arms with me.  “We must go now and talk with the Council, remember? And we need to eat lunch before then.” She turns to Mom with a smirk. “We’ll see you at your ceremony tonight.” She drags me away, not giving me a chance to finish our conversation. I leave Mom to separate the weeds from the lettuce on her Binding day, and me to separate the things Mom tells me with the heaviness of my heart.

While we eat lunch in her room, Perfection gives me more directions, “Don’t speak, and let me do the talking. Agree with what I say, it’s for the good of the entire Refuge.”

“Why don’t you eat in the dining hall?” I ask, wishing I could meet some other Vessels, perhaps ones less annoyed by my presence.

“I can’t bear for them to see me like this, with you. Everything is all wrong.” She whines, a pastime I realize she practices often and well.

I nod my head yes, showing her I understand. I don’t want to do or say anything that could cause me to stand next to Mom or Basil tonight.                                         

*****

Perfection asks Agreement to make us an appointment with the Council, “It’s urgent!” she had said. Thankfully Agreement secured us one, but we have a few hours left to wait after we eat. Perfection explains this is the time she completes her tasks, which entails collecting herbs and flowers used for supplies at the Refuge.

“Good, I was itching to get outside.”

“Oh, Lucy, there you go again. The flower gardens are just past the vegetable greenhouse. There’s no need to go outside.” I try not to let my disappointment show, but Perfection smiles as if she takes pleasure in explaining this to me. “Things are so clean and beautiful in the Refuge there would be no reason to go out even if we were allowed.”

“Seriously? We’re being held hostage?” The idea stifles me, having felt my first breath of fresh air this week, I’m not ready to say goodbye to the wild sky so soon.

Perfection just waves me off as she walks down the hall, leaving me to trail after her. As we walk to the flower garden, I have time to look around. The marble floors, walls and ceilings, appear seamless, no cracks anywhere. There’s no outside light coming in, and just like in the Haven there are no windows here either. Still, the hall is brightly lit; I’d like to see the system that powers all of this.

At the compound, we worked so hard for the little light we had, a lamp and two flashlights. It took hours on the treadmill to generate the power, which is why so much of my life was lived in the dark. On most days, cloudy skies and rain filled the small windows of my life. My only real escape came from the pages of books I devoured. My closest friends became characters in stories, like Anne of Green Gables, with red hair like me, who taught me to imagine, to dream. Or characters like Atticus Finch who taught me about justice, who helped form my opinions on right from wrong.

We pass the vegetable garden Mom was assigned, then stop at a much smaller greenhouse filled with flowers, in varieties I have never before seen beyond the pages of books. Yellow blossoms trail the walls and in less ordered beds green leaves grow tall, as if trying to reach the clear ceiling above us, where the sun shines through. A smile slips past my lips as I take in the space. It feels alive.

Wooden beams support the ceiling and walls, and just like the garden Mom worked this morning, this green house is an upgraded version of the one back at the compound. No longer surrounded by PVC pipes and Plexiglas, this space is state of the art like every other facet of the Refuge.

“So you work here everyday?” I ask Perfection, following her to a corner bench housing baskets, shears, and gloves.

“Yes, I mean, unless I can get someone to do it for me. I mean I hate getting dirty, but it’s the best job around if you want to get technical.”

“Technical?” I ask, still unsure of what we are actually doing here.

“Well, we all have to do something. And I don’t want the Nobleman to think I’m lazy. Anyways, we basically collect different flowers, according to whichever picture was posted on the bulletin board for the day. The different supply shops let me know what they need.”

Perfection points to a corkboard with photographs of different plants, and they show a picture of a container next to it, presumably indicating the quantity we are to harvest. I recognize some right away from the botany books I read at the compound. Forest would quiz me on different species of plants and animals; he always said knowledge was what was going to set us free. I guess we didn’t learn quickly enough.

“So today you need to collect Echinacea and nasturtium?” I ask, pointing to the laminated pictures tacked to the board. “That’s kind of neat, I didn’t really think about what you would use to boost the immune systems of so many followers.”

“How do you know what they are for?” she asks.

“Just studied them is all, it’s no big deal.” I look away from her knowing she doesn’t need any more reasons to hate me.

“Do you always act like you know everything?”

“Sorry, what exactly did I do to you?”

“Basically just show up and try to take the place I have worked my entire life to earn.”

“I’m not trying to take anything from you, okay?” Frustrated, I turn away to pick up a basket to collect the leaves. “I’ll get the nasturtium, you get the Echinacea, okay?”

Not waiting for her answer, I walk down the path towards the flat green, circular leaves, plucking them carefully. Tears prick my eyes as I bend down low to the ground gathering the leaves that I presume will be used to boost the vitamin C levels of the Vessels and Humblemen. I hear her stomp off in the other direction, and I savor the quiet this greenhouse affords, grateful to be alone for the first time all day. It’s strange, I spent my whole life confined in a space so much smaller than this Refuge, but this place is claustrophobic. I brush the tears away, frustrated that this girl I hardly know can get me so worked up.

When I finish collecting my basket full, I meet Perfection at the entrance. Her crossed arms tell me she hasn’t cooled any, but really, neither have I. She leads us to a bank of open doors down the hall and I peek in them to see Vessels at work making soap, canning preserves, and placing herbs in dehydration machines.

“This is the room we drop the baskets at each day.” She leans in to whisper, “Stay clear of these Vessel’s.”

“Why?” I whisper back.

“They are completely lacking.”

Having no idea what that means, I follow her inside a door where two women in aprons measure quantities of liquid in small mason jars.

“Here are the herbs you requested, Vessel Dignity.” Perfection takes my basket and deposits them on a stainless steel table next to hers. Dignity is about our age, heavy set with deep dimples in her cheeks.

“Thank you, Perfection, you are such an absolute doll,” she answers, her voice dripping in sarcasm. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for your delicate hands.”

“Oh, it was just fine. I had such an amazing Vessel here to help.” She points at me, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Lucy, we need to go.” She tugs on my sleeve and we leave, abruptly, but I hear the snickers of the Vessels. It’s obvious why Perfection stays clear of Dignity, that girl is not buying what Perfection is selling. I fight the urge to comment, thinking Basil would have the right retort, more practiced in the ways of biting words than me.