The Brothers (7 page)

Dr. Houghtson nods. “The girls love order. They need it. If we show them they can trust us, they’ll do whatever we say.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. He’s not just talking about the girls upstairs. He’s talking about me. With this act, he seals my fate. He owns me.

Dr. Bashees sighs and heads back up the stairs. The other doctors release me, but a hand replaces their grasp. Dr. Houghtson holds my arm. He smiles and whispers close to my ear. “This way, darling.”

Sabrina throws herself at me as I stride in the door. I stumble back, crushed under her weight.

“Oh, God, Jan, I thought you were gone. I ran down the hallway, banging on the elevator doors, but an orderly dragged me back. I almost got sedated.” Her chest heaves with sobs, and she strokes my head over and over.

Slowly, I pry myself from her grasp and stumble to the bed. Everything feels like a dream. My life is different now. An image of Dr. Houghtson stroking my hair floats forward in my mind.

“What happened?” Sabrina says, flopping on my bed. “How’d you talk them out of selling you?”

“I didn’t,” I whisper. My hand reaches into my pocket. I pull the ribbon out and drop it in Sabrina’s lap. “Here. Before they take me again.”

Sabrina picks up the red ribbon and starts sobbing. Her arms fling around me. “Oh Jan,” she says, “I’m so glad you’re back.”

“Enough of that caterwauling,” a voice says from the door.

Bell stands in our doorway. Any sign that she’s been crying has been wiped from her face. She frowns at Sabrina. “Give the girl some breathing room. She’s just had a scare.”

Sabrina backs away, but her hand is still clamped around mine.

I look up at Bell. “They let me stay,” I whisper. “He gave them Alma instead.”

“Alma?” Sabrina asks. “Alma with the black hair?”

I nod.

“I thought she was moved to another floor.” Sabrina’s face has gone white.

I shake my head. “Dr. Houghtson said she was sedated.”

“Dr. Houghtson was there?” Bell asks, her eyes narrowing.

I nod sluggishly and drop my head in my hands. “It was that awful man. The one who was here earlier. She belongs to him, and I’m allowed to go back to my life.” Tears puddle in my palms. I smear them onto my cheeks.

Bell strides across the room, presses her lips to my ear, and whispers. “It’s not your fault. It’s Dr. Bashees and his dwindling bank account. There’s trouble in town. Riots. Looting. Their supply runs have been hijacked. They’re looking for other sources of income.” She stands up, smoothing a hand down her coveralls.

That’s why they came early. Because I’m worth something. I fall back on the bed, my body constricting. I’ll become so small no one can see me. Slipping through the cracks, I’ll live in the walls and drink the tears of the girls being sold.

Bell grabs my wrist and tugs me upright so fast my head snaps back. “Stop it,” she whispers harshly. “Stop giving in to this. You are alive. I won’t let you wallow in self-pity like a baby.”

My hurt turns to anger. I glare at her. “What do
you
know? You don’t have to worry. You can live your life, eat dinner with your friends, and go up and rock your babies. You won’t ever be sold or bought as someone’s wife!” I realize I’m screaming. Pressing my hands to my face, I shake my head. I shouldn’t have yelled. I shouldn’t have raised my voice to Nanny.

When she draws my hands away, Bell is kneeling before me. “What do you mean—bought as someone’s wife?”

I lick my lips and whisper. “Dr. Houghtson says he’s going to buy me. I’m going to be his wife. I have no choice now.”

Bell leans back on her heels as the words settle in. Sabrina turns to me with big eyes. “That’s why he never lets any other doctor see you.”

Bell grips my arm. “You only see Houghtson?”

I look between two faces. “Isn’t that how it is for everyone?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “I see all the doctors. Whoever’s on duty. All the girls are like that. Except you. I thought you needed some treatment only he was trained in. But…”

Waves and waves of chills rack my body. Dr. Houghtson has been my doctor for four years. I think of his hands on me. How he washes and washes after he’s touched me.

I look up at Bell, the woman who raised me, who taught me everything I know about the world. “What do I do?” I whisper.

Her face hardens into a look of determination I’ve only seen a few other times. “Leave it to me.” She’s gone before I can say another word.

Sabrina and I stare at the empty doorway. She lets go of my hand and holds the ribbon up to the light. Its satin finish shines. “Where’d you get it?” she asks, tying it around her head.

I help her straighten the ends and fluff the bow. “Robbie. He already had it for me. Didn’t even have to ask.”

“That’s who you should marry,” she says softly, getting up to look at herself in the window’s reflection.

“Who? Robbie?” I walk over beside her and see what a mess my hair has become. I take out my braid and untangle the knots.

“He’s sweet on you,” she says, watching me. “Always bringing you things.” She helps me smooth a lump of hair at the top of my head and watches me braid. “You know, for a long time, I was jealous of you. You’re so beautiful with your dark hair and oh-so-perfect lips.” She turns and looks at her face in the window’s reflection. “But maybe it’s better to be ugly.”

I snort as I secure the end of my braid with a rubber band. “You’re not ugly.”

When she turns to face me, she’s pulled her nose up like a pig and oinks.

“It’ll stay that way,” I say, mimicking Nanny Hannah.

She drops the pig face and makes another by pulling her eyes to tiny slits and sticking out her buck teeth. “That’s what I’m saying. Ugly is better.”

Trying to play along, I stick my fingers in the corners of my mouth and loll out my tongue. It’s a forced happiness, but it makes Sabrina smile.

“There, see. Dr. Houghtson won’t want you now.” She tugs my arm. “Come on. The moo cows will eat all the breakfast.”

I dread the cafeteria, but I let her tug me there anyway. We push through the doors into a bustling room, lined with tables crammed shoulder to shoulder with girls. I peek at the trays as we make our way up the aisles to the serving line. Baked white fish, soupy carrots, and bread. Boring is better than experimental. Like the time they got a shipment of canned beans and one of the nannies tried out an ancient chili recipe. Forty girls got food poisoning and the bathrooms were wrecked for a week.

We grab plastic trays and slide them down the line. They plop down carrots in a sauce that looks like snot, but at least I’m here instead of being violated in the back of Rukus’ truck. I weave prayers for Alma in my mind, but in my heart, I know they’ll do no good. She’ll wake up chained and stay that way until she dies. And it’s my fault.

“Move along,” one of the nannies croaks.

Sabrina leans in to inspect my face. “Ground control to Jan. You’re drifting out to space.”

“You’ve been watching too much
Buck Rogers
,” I say, handing my tray over to the last hair-netted nanny. She plunks the bread onto the tray.

Sabrina follows close behind. “I know you were run through the ringer this morning, but you gotta let it go or they’ll sedate you. You don’t want to end up like Lulu.” Our eyes flick to the back table where Lulu sits alone, her head dipping into her carrots, her long, matted hair over her eyes. Her fingernails have been gnawed clean off and her shirt is on backward. Lulu was once a very angry girl. Now she’s addicted to pills.

Sabrina sighs. “The poor babies that pop out of that belly.”

We find a quiet table near the back. The rest of the D Hall girls are clustered a few tables up, but Sabrina and I don’t eat with them. They’re pretty bitter.

I pick at my food, thinking of Alma and Dr. Houghtson. Sabrina stabs carrots and tries to angle them into my mouth like I’m a baby, but I shove her fork away.

Sabrina grabs my bread and is about to airplane it in my mouth when we see them approaching, Breanne and Micha. I don’t see Charlene, but she can’t be far behind. My body stiffens. Sabrina goes rigid beside me.

“Heard you almost got
put out
,” Breanne says, sliding her pregnant body into the bench across from us. Micha does the same, easing her giant belly down and puffing out an exhausted breath. When you’re that pregnant, even sitting down is tiring. It’s amazing that I want something like that, but I do.

Breanne leans forward. “I said, I heard you almost got
put out
.” She grabs the bread off Sabrina’s tray and starts chewing. “Why are you still here?”

I stare at her face, splattered in orange freckles like her orange hair, the color I imagine Opie’s is from the
Andy Griffith Show
. When I don’t speak, she slams a palm down on the table. “Are you traumatized? Can’t speak anymore?”

“Leave her alone,” Sabrina says, gripping her fork. “Let her eat.”

Breanne laughs with a mouthful of bread. Micha leans forward. “You taking her food, turtle? That why you’re so fat?”

Sabrina raises the fork in her fist, but I push it down. “You can have our bread,” I say, flicking mine off the tray toward Micha. “Just leave us alone.”

“How generous,” Micha says, taking the slice and tucking it into a pocket. “Is that how you convinced them to let you stay? By doing something
generous
?”

My skin prickles as they laugh. I know what they’re implying, and it hits too close to home. I lower my eyes.

“You fat heifers,” Sabrina says, placing both palms on the table. “Micha, I hear the only generous one around here is Dr. Merriweather. He gave you that, didn’t he?” Sabrina nods toward Micha’s swollen belly.

I look up, stunned. Dr. Merriweather was fooling around with Micha, too? The bloom on Micha’s cheeks tells the truth. Her face morphs from shock to anger to ferocity. Sabrina shouldn’t—

Micha grabs a cup of steaming hot coffee and slings it at Sabrina’s face. Sabrina howls, pushing back, her hands tugging at her hot, wet clothing. Black droplets drip from the red bow on her head. Her trembling hands touch the solitary pink rose on her chest, now stained.

“You bitch!” she screams as she lunges across the table at Micha.

Arms and legs and shouts and curses. I reach for Sabrina, but can’t get a grip on her. She grabs Micha by the collar and pulls her across the tabletop. Micha is clawing, hands out, mouth open. Breanne steps back and gestures for the orderlies who are running toward us. A Taser comes out of an orderly’s pocket.

“Sabrina, stop!” I yank back her arm. Her face is twisted with rage. She slams Micha’s head down onto the tabletop with an awful
thunk
. “She’s nine months pregnant!” I yell. “Please, Sabrina!”

Someone pulls me back. I stumble a few steps before getting my footing. The orderly who pulled me away grabs Sabrina’s arm and drags her off Micha. She falls over the bench seat, and lands bottom first on the tile. A yelp barks out of her mouth. The orderly jabs his arm forward. Is he going to punch her?

A zap crackles through the air. Sabrina’s body stiffens, convulses. Her jaws snap with awful clacking sounds. Her muscles tighten and retract. She jerks like a fish on a line. Her eyes roll up behind her fluttering eyelids.

He’s shocked her. It’s too awful to watch.

And then it’s over. The orderly stands up, panting. He looks at Sabrina, prone on the floor. Then he looks at me.

“Are we done here?” he asks me as if I’m in charge.

I nod. “Yes.” Sabrina moans from the floor. “Can I take my friend back to our room?”

He glances between Sabrina and Micha, blood trickling down her forehead. It’s just a scratch, but he furrows his eyebrows. “No. She’ll have to go up for review.”

My heart sinks. If they find this transgression serious enough, Sabrina will get
put out
. She’s only had one live birth. Lord knows how the baby she carries now will survive being shocked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble. I’ll make sure she—”

“My baby,” Micha cries, holding her stomach, hunched over like she’s in labor. “There’s something wrong!”

Anger floods the orderly’s face. He waves some nannies over to help Micha, grabs Sabrina under her arms, and drags her away.

I stand, wringing my hands. They can’t take her. They can’t.

An orderly steps between Sabrina and me. He’s tall and stern-faced. Now, I can’t see her anymore. “To your room,” he orders, pointing. “And stay away from these girls.” He nods toward Breanne and Micha, who are being tended to by a flock of nannies.

I look at these girls, so smug.

I stomp out of the cafeteria and down the hall. It isn’t the first time I’ve wished for boots with heavy-heeled soles. Stomping in slippers feels useless, like punching a pillow.

The halls are quiet when I get to D. I’m hungry, but the empty feeling fits my mood. And the quiet of the hall is welcoming. My nerves are shot and it isn’t even ten am.

I detour into the bathroom, splash water on my face, and rub off the coffee splatter as best I can. My gown is stained in a few spots, but nothing like Sabrina’s. She’ll need a whole new gown. It’ll probably be weeks before one will be handed down.

When I lift up from the sink, my reflection stares at me. What does Dr. Houghtson see in me? The only person who ever thought I was worth something was Nanny Bell, and it wasn’t for my face.

My fingers grip the cool metal sink frame and stare. My mother—her name was Veronica—died from pre-eclampsia when I was two. I wish I had a picture. Is the curve of my eyes the same? My complexion? Sometimes it feels like I have no parents, that I was built from the same concrete and tile as the hospital itself. The hospital is my parent. A cruel, uncaring one.

I pat my face dry with a towel and plod to my room. There will be nothing to do there, but wait until Sabrina returns.
If
she returns.

When I enter my room, the hairs on my arms stand up. Something’s not right. I don’t know how, but I can feel it. I whirl around and the door creaks.

Dr. Houghtson clicks the door shut and seals us in together. When I see him, fear courses up my bones. I shuffle back toward my bed, but realize that’s the last place I want to be. I take a few steps back until I bump into the window.