I frowned. ‘Who is it?’
‘Who do you think? It’s Kayla.’
‘Oh.’ I could hear the disappointment in my voice. Hopefully no one else did. George gave me one of his disapproving glares.
‘Hey, it’s probably something to do with work.’
He seemed to calm down a bit, but still scowled like
no one else’s business. Given what Susan had just dumped on a plate in front of him, I understood the reason for his tension. He was simply projecting his disgust at a shitty breakfast onto me.
Lucas handed me the phone. ‘I hope you realise she just called me a jackass.’
I smiled. ‘Well if the shoe fits.’ I took the receiver off him and he rolled his eyes at me.
‘Kayla, what’s up?’
‘Your brother is such a jackass,’ she hissed.
‘He did mention that.’ Our eyes met across the dining table and he shook his head from side to side, picking up a fork and tapping the food in front of him. I turned away. ‘What did you call for?’
‘I’m ringing to let you know that I’m not coming into work today. You’ll have to get your parents to take you.’ She coughed a few times down the line and then sneezed with a shriek that hurt my ear. She sounded awful. And she’d obviously forgotten that my parents were driving me to work for the length of my grounding.
‘You don’t sound too good.’
She coughed down the phone line again, answering my question. ‘Yeah, got the flu I think.’
‘I’m sorry. I hope you feel better.’ I briefly wondered what it must be like to have the flu. Luckily, I’d never have to find out.
‘Me too. My nose feels like sandpaper at the moment.’
‘Well, I guess I’ll see you next week then.’
‘Yeah, you will.’ She paused. ‘Hey, did you call that guy back?’
I looked at Susan and George who were both watching me. ‘Ah-huh.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Not much.’
‘Are you seeing him?’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘Are you into him?’
‘I don’t think I can answer that.’
‘You can’t talk right now can you?’ she said conspiratorially. ‘Your parents are listening.’
‘That is correct.’
She sneezed. ‘Okay.’ She blew her nose so loudly I had to pull the receiver away from my ear. ‘I’ll talk to you about it next Saturday then.’
‘Okay. Feel better.’
‘Thanks.’
I hung up the phone and sat down at the table. Susan and George were still watching me, questioning looks on their faces.
‘It was Kayla,’ I said, motioning with a dismissive wave of my hand as I glanced down at the round, brown, thick piece of something on my plate. ‘She’s sick. She just wanted to let
me know that she couldn’t pick me up for work today.’
They both nodded and looked away.
I stared down at the plate again. Was this the waffle creation thing Susan had talked about making on Monday?
I picked up a fork and tapped at the concoction like Lucas had done a few minutes ago. It was apparent he was still deciding how to negotiate his food, as he tried to make stabbing incisions across its surface, to break it up. Mine made a hollow, but hard sort of
thwack
ing sound that suddenly had me concerned about the structural integrity of my dental care. I didn’t know whether to eat it or play Frisbee with it.
Instead, I picked up the maple syrup from the centre of the table and smothered it on. It might soften the hard exterior slightly, allowing me to bypass the flavour that I was positive was unique to Susan’s cooking. The less I had to taste of it the better.
From the corner of my eye I saw Lucas and George watching me. It was obviously my turn for the taste test. ‘You guys going to the store today?’ I asked as I tried to skewer a piece of the now slightly softened creation onto the end of my fork. It was still like trying to spear a piece of concrete with a toothpick.
‘We are, but don’t worry. One of us will come and collect you at six.’
I shrugged. ‘No problems. I could catch the bus if you prefer?’
Susan shook her head. ‘No, no,’ she answered quickly. ‘We will come and get you.’
I tossed a piece of the waffle into my mouth and began to chew. Lucas watched with intense interest.
I had to stop myself from letting my lips shrivel up and pucker inwards. She must have used salt in the recipe instead of sugar—and lots of it. I put my fork down and pushed the plate away. That was enough for George, who promptly picked up the newspaper, and feigned a stomach ache. Lucas claimed he simply wasn’t hungry and, amazingly, Susan didn’t seem the slightest bit put out. I decided then and there that her taste buds had to be inoperable because she ate every last piece on her plate and then helped herself to the rest of mine.
The woman has a cast iron stomach.
* * *
When I arrived at work, Glen was already busying himself inside the shop, dusting shelves and arranging a few of the accessories. Apparently Martha, my algebra instructor at the IMI, was going to make an appearance today. She had book-work to catch up on and a few important clients that spent ridiculous sums of money that were coming in specifically to see her sometime during lunch. Glen didn’t seem offended that his design services were not required during the meetings. He said that he was happy to have a reprieve from the consults so that he could work on the store’s displays. The fact that Kayla was off sick today meant that I was roped into helping him, but asking me to decorate was like asking a man to remember to put down the toilet seat—impossible.
I listened to his ramblings good-naturedly, though I wasn’t specifically listening to the details. My head was drifting back to my brief interlude with William. It had been three days since I had last seen him, last and looked into his widened eyes and read the shock and confusion in them—seen what I was dawning upon him. During those three days, I was ashamed to admit, I’d thought of little else.
Between learning to accept what I was, trying to trust my parents, and dabbling with the notion that I might be one day soon be wandering eternity alone, I hadn’t made room inside my head for much else.
True to my nature, I hadn’t wandered around the house feeling sad and sorry for myself as Susan and George had first expected me too. Instead, I’d thrown myself into my training at the IMI. I wanted to do all that I could to arm myself against any enemy that may soon be upon me, enemies which could possibly include William Granville, and sadly, as the realisation had struck me on Wednesday, my parents. Though they seemed to care about me, I always felt a little on the outer circle, just out of reach of their embrace, just enough so that they didn’t have to feel anything too deeply for me.
‘Did you hear me, Elena?’ Glen said, reaching down from the ladder he was standing on and touching my shoulder.
‘Huh?’ I said, looking up at him in a daze.
‘I said could you please pass me that blue lamp behind you?’ I turned around and grabbed the lamp. ‘Sorry, must have been in my own world.’
‘I can see that,’ he said, frowning heavily at the red cushion that I had just passed him. He carefully climbed down the ladder, walked around behind me, tossing the red cushion back onto the bed display and grabbed the blue lamp that he’d asked for.
I should have stayed in bed. What’s wrong with me today?
‘Why don’t you go and grab yourself some lunch, Elena? It’s quiet today. I can manage the store on my own for an hour if you want to step out.’
I glanced at my watch. One o’clock. ‘Thanks Glen. I might just take you up on that.’
I left him sorting out the display of blue accessories, or red ones, I couldn’t really remember which, and headed to the staffroom to grab my backpack. I toyed with the idea of walking over to the shopping centre and grabbing myself some sushi for lunch and then quickly dismissed it, remembering that I had left my wallet at home.
I cursed silently. It looked like I was going to have to pray there was something edible for dinner tonight or there was a very good chance I was going to die from starvation.
When I got to the staffroom, I saw that my backpack was sitting on the table instead of tucked into the cupboard where I was sure I’d placed it earlier that morning. Given that it was just Glen and I here this morning, and he wasn’t the type to riffle through other people’s belongings, I could only conclude that someone was trying to get my attention.
I crossed the room, pulled my backpack closer to me and studied its exterior. There was nothing abnormal going on there.
I grasped the zips in my fingers and pulled them back slowly, peeking into the gaping interior lining. Just inside the opening was a small folded piece of white paper. I plucked it out, unfolded it and then read the tidy script written inside.
Elena,
A thousand apologies for how I reacted the other day. You must understand that in all my years I have never encountered another such as yourself. I do not fully understand what I have learnt yet, but I would like you to know that my offer still stands. I would very much like to get to know you better.
W.G.
I re-read the letter a further three times, the words not fully sinking in until the fourth read. I held the stiff white paper in my hands and stared at the letters until they all blurred into an inky mess. It took several attempts to remoisten my eyes. Rapid blinking and lid rubbing were what eventually cleared my vision. And when I could finally see again, the words looked strange—harder to translate than Egyptian hieroglyphics. Or perhaps that was merely the surprise talking. How had this happened? How had he found the moral constitution to look through the horror of what I could potentially turn into and still find enough resolve to want to get to know me better? Was he simply curious now that he knew the truth? Or was this just an excuse to get to know my weaknesses, instead? Or did he sympathise, understanding what it means to be different?
I shook my head and folded the piece of paper back up, a small sliver of happiness rippling through me. Maybe I was as insane as he was, but I wanted there to be truth in his words. I wanted to know him just as much as it appeared that he wanted to know me.
‘So can we start getting to know each other now?’
I started and looked up to see William standing by the staffroom door. His sudden appearance had knocked the wind right out of me and sent my heart into a panicked rhythm.
Why does he have to keep doing that?
‘What are you doing here?’ I demanded, just realising I worked in a store that was owned by one of The Protectors, a Protector that was due to arrive at any moment now.
‘I came to see you,’ he answered, smiling playfully. ‘Your boss mentioned the last time that I came here looking for you that you worked on Saturdays.’
I heard the jangling of the front bell and the door closing noisily, followed quickly by Martha greeting Glen. I could also hear her asking where I was. ‘You can’t be here right now,’ I hissed. ‘My boss is a Protector.’
He folded his arms in front of his chest, the muscle in his forearms and biceps bulging slightly. ‘So?’
I frowned. ‘So? How can you say that? I’m forbidden from talking with you. If Martha finds you here with me she’s going to tell my parents.’
‘I’m still not certain I foresee a problem.’
‘Seriously? You’ve met my parent’s, right?’ I didn’t wait for a response. ‘Well, if they find out that you and I are speaking, they’re going to tear me a new one.’