Authors: Melissa Horan
Venomous she-devil; suffocating heifer; ignorant hag; paltry want-to-be feminist.
He would sooner kill her than seduce her, which was saying something. Eventually he fell asleep, and woke up again to an empty house, not knowing how long he’d been asleep. He felt a little better; slightly more in control than before his nap.
As far as he had determined, he had two options. One, he could bring Gabe back and start over. Two, he could let them live, and create the tools he needed to keep up his research. Right now, it was the second option. Gabe was right
. This wasn’t enjoyable. Jonathan didn’t want to die again. Not right now. Tactics must change because the experiment wasn’t working. The environment he was in now was a fair enough place where he could sufficiently ignore every other human being. Somewhere, he would build an open lab and work, and fix the problems. He would only ever need to leave for food, and besides that exchange, he would never have to explain anything to his dim-witted associates.
Jonathan looked around the room.
It was so dark in this house that it felt like the cave. Jonathan tensed up at this realization. His medication was wearing off from this morning. As he twisted his wrists, they dug into his skin, but the pain wasn’t bad enough to make him stop. Jonathan had to get out of here. He seeped the air through his teeth, which were clenched so tight it was as if they were wired shut. The snot was drying on his face and he pulled and pulled against the chains. They weren’t coming free. Desperately he looked at the cuffs, to see if the mechanism could be broken. Because he was so distraught, it took his eyes a long time to focus.
It couldn’t be broken.
He tried for an hour and they still hadn’t returned to give him a pill. He needed another anxiety and claustrophobia pill. He was starting to feel as manic as before his nap. Jonathan couldn’t realize in his nightmare that it was ninety percent withdrawal.
And, he never realized how quickly it would hit him or how quickly his feet would be taken from underneath him. He was at a loss. At this rate he would work himself up until he fainted. Scourging the place with his eyes for the keys, he cursed the blasted darkness for blinding him. But it wasn’t the darkness that blurred his vision it was tears and withdrawal. Certainly, he looked like a mad man.
When May entered the house
several hours later, and sat down at the table, she stared exhaustively into Jonathan’s open eyes, but said nothing. He met her gaze, and would not be the first to break their eye contact. He was declaring war, right here in this moment.
Captivated, and disgusted, she
closed her eyes, and drifted to sleep with vivid imagery of misery, and the way he slumped in the chair, blood dripping from his wrists, and with wet face, complete with a plague of blackness circling his blood-shot eyes. He would kill her if it was the last thing he did.
At the sun down and at the sun rise, he stared and imagined every possible way to cause her death. Jonathan watched her struggle through the next morning.
Every dreaming moment, she was trying to be awake. As a matter of fact, no matter how hard she tried, she
couldn’t
wake up. Vague sounds approached them from the outside, but never woke her up.
Jonathan didn’t
even know if he fell asleep, his obsession was so complete. Jonathan didn’t know what was happening either. He couldn’t look away. Even when Janine tried to wipe his face when she came in the previous evening, he just turned this way and that to avoid the cloth. He did let her clean his wrists, and bandage them as best she could without removing the cuffs. Not that she wanted to help. Fear of the monster was repelling her in every way.
___
When May opened her eyes again, it was quiet. A soft kiss on the cheek from her daughter had woken her up gently and easily. Nothing was said. From a sideways glance where her head had molded to the table, she looked into big, blue eyes that blinked back, turning sideways also, so that she looked right-side up.
The girl seemed to sometimes look a lot like May and at other times more like her father. It puzzled May. Right now, while May felt close to the girl, she tried to specifically identify those features that belonged to either one.
Nose was hers, eyes were his. At the same time that she was making these decisions, she was reflecting on herself. Three years had passed since Janey was born – May barely got back in time for the little girl’s birthday this year. Not that they did much for it… made a special treat… gave her a toy they bought months ago in another town.
Flippant was the last quality May would have attributed to herself. Self-control was her mantra. So how had she ended up with a child before she wanted her?
Why hadn’t the self-control worked four years ago? She could say it was ‘love’; that it was social pressure; that it was a carefree moment; that it was anything… but it wasn’t anything. It wasn’t anything except physical desire. Janey’s father’s name was Vincent, he lived in the city still and he and May were on friendly terms. It took time to get that way... purely because of May’s odd reaction. Before she knew she was pregnant; before the consequence was made manifest, she hated herself.
That was an odd moment for May. She acted, and it was wrong. Perhaps it was some deep belief within her, reacting in outrage. It was an opportunity to learn that she never wanted that again. In that moment, she changed. She would make choices based on the outcome, instead.
Yet, there she was with the daughter who hardly knew her. Perhaps May hadn’t changed quite as thoroughly as she thought.
Seve
ral minutes passed by before May picked her head up to look around. Saliva had secreted between her cheek and the table, so her face peeled rather than lifted off of the dense wood.
May rubbed her face with her hands and sighed. She remembered that Dane was gone, and that she still had chores to do. Dane. Janey was almost one when May met Dane. This was how May judged time, with the people she met. This weird nostalgia probably came from Dane’s absence.
Her memory of him seemed to actually start two days before they met. The politician he was with came into town.
…
While most of the girls in town spent their time flirting with the boys, May was more interested in the politician. Having someone traveling to ‘preach’ their philosophies was a moderately new idea. May had heard the rumors from a few of the traders who came in and out of town. Since she had been through as many books that she could find, she was searching for new ideas.
She first met the man while she was buying almost rotten mangoes and he was purchasing eggs at the next shack over. He was wearing a hemp vest, which signified that he was a bit more well-to-do. Surprisingly, he was genuinely friendly toward the farmer who sold him the eggs. They weren’t talking about politics at all. That made May begin to like him.
She casually joined in the conversation and when another customer came up, May walked away with the man, continuing their conversation. Eventually, of course, they turned to his line of work and she asked what gave him the idea of traveling.
His response was suspicious. Basically he said he wanted to unify the people for trade purposes; for security in the event that some relationship went south between any of the cities, there was a bigger judicial system in place to help sort it out; to make compromise.
A lull in their conversation didn’t mean it was over, and in fact, it was clear that they weren’t finished when he directed May through the door into one of the city’s bars. The city had three – this was the most popular, and the cleanest. Thus, it was spotted here and there with unrecognizable people that were here with the politician.
“So why the fan club?” May asked. But, he must not have heard, being distracted by an invitation from a lean dark haird fellow who was talking charismatically to the bar tender, but wasn’t drinking anything except water. Surprisingly the bar tender didn’t seem to care.
It wasn’t until this invitation that May learned that the politician’s name was Jason. He sat down while the other man stayed standing, leaning on the bar. He reached his hand out to introduce himself to May. With a half_smile, he turned to Jason to check some information.
“So Friday morning, you’ve got your speech, then after that we’re leaving, right? Did you want time to mingle after?”
Jason finished ordering his drink and then responded,
“I think these two days will be enough – so far, so good.”
Dane took a drink of his water, and muttered, “okay” into his glass with a far off look as if he was figuring something out that needed to happen in those two days. The comfortable, though obvious silence was beginning to feel at home when another man came up who had a thin face, pointed chin, and a buoyant smile. He slapped Dane on the shoulder, spilling Dane’s water onto the floor. May was ignored, but she wasn’t sure if that was because he assumed she was not with them, or if he didn’t care. This was Darian, and he almost ignored Dane, too, as a matter of fact, but just wanted to focus on his conversation with Jason.
With a break in the conversation, Dane excused himself, seeming to accept that he was not really involved in this conversation. “See ya later” he said to them. Darian seemed surprised,
“Where you goin?”
“Library” was all Dane replied with a bright smile back at them, and then he continued out the door.
May pulled up a chair so she could talk, and the bartender brought her a water without her ordering it. He knew her well enough. This confused Darian who now noticed her and nodding to the water said, “What, you too?” with friendly disbelief.
“Oh, hey… sorry,” Jason began, “Darian, this is May. May, Darian.”
A nod was the only acknowledgement May gave… not because she was rude, but she was there for a reason, too and had a lot on her mind that she was wanting to explore.
“So. Can I ask you a question?” She said
candidly.
“Sure.”
“Why the bodyguard?”
“Why not?” Darian chimed in, adding a shrug and an arrogant lean on the bar where Dane just was. Apparently it didn’t matter to him what the real answer was. May was having a hard time deciphering just what kind of a person Darian was. Was he really arrogant, or was he putting on a show, or was he just socially awkward. And yet, he had seemed conscientious and welcoming enough until now.
With a quizzical look, Jason answered,
“It presents a certain image.”
“That you’re expecting trouble?”
“No, no, is that the impression you get? They came with no weapons, and they are all untrained. No, it just suggests that I have a following and that it is official business that every person can have in interest in.”
May shrugged, “I guess…”
Darian peered at her shrewdly, probably discerning how gullible she was from what she could assume. Then he asked, making very obvious assumptions,
“So you don’t think it would be beneficial to unify under one government?”
“No, not really. But I want to know why you
do
.”
“Money exchange, for one thing – we have three, possibly four money systems. It makes trade difficult.”
“I am aware of that, and yet I still disagree. My concern is not what we’ll gain, but what we’ll lose. No offense, but I don’t think Jason is any more intelligent than I am. I know how to associate with my neighbors… I don’t need a government to tell me how to behave. You take accountability out of people’s hands when you make an outward source their judge. Instead of figuring out their problems they compare to what could happen, or what is fair by popular opinion.”
“Not if they’re voting on the leaders and on the issues.” Darian continued.
Jason was intentionally listening before speaking. He was being patient and trying to understand it seemed.
“Majority rules is not exactly a personal approach.”
May knew that a smart comment was about to come from Jason when she saw his smile.
“Oh… you wanna make it personal…”
Though obviously joking, his seductive tone was unmistakable.
May’s rebuttal was intentionally dry.
“As personal as you can make it…”
They all laughed and the conversation continued at a less accusatory pace. Shortly after, Darian left.
May and Jason continued for some time. When May counted Jason’s fourth alcoholic beverage, she noted that his alertness was beginning to wane. She was undecided if she should stay later into the evening to wait for Jason to be intoxicated and unabashed about what he shared with her – or if it was better to only hear what he chose to say when he was sober. What was more telling about a person’s character: his inner thoughts, or the things he chose to share? She doubted he was hiding anything, but out of respect for what seemed to be sincerity thus far, May left him and returned home. On her walk, she could see through a break in the market shops that there was a candle lit in the dark library. She wondered if Mason, the librarian, had let Dane stay past closing as he often let her do. That was quick trust, though. Resisting her curiosity she finished the walk home. While Janey slept in her arms, she stayed awake at the table, thinking and jotting down notes, finishing a book and trying to make sense of it all.
The next day, she saw Jason, but not Darian, nor Dane. This time it was in the morning and she asked,