Scorched (7 page)

“Yes, I believe so. Why?”

“Well, it seems that if the dead are buried, then only life could exist up top, since death is the absence of life.

“That’s not how it works.” I instructed him.

“How does it work?”

“Things are the way they are and not everything has a reason.”

Spec’s eyes wandered for a moment, and then asked, “Do you mind if I talk with my brother alone?”

“I thought I was your brother.” I retorted.

“You are. You’re both my brothers.”

I looked over at Cotta who stood silently, waiting for me to grant them their wish of privacy. And then, I cracked like my fractured ceiling. The dirt tumbled down and I caved in. “Okay.”

I left my room and took a seat outside. I couldn’t go downstairs because my father and the Wilkins were there. I could’ve gone into the game room but for some reason, I wanted to stay right by the door.

I know I shouldn’t be upset that he wants to spend some alone time with Cotta. I get it. I want to hang out with my friends alone sometimes. For some reason, though, it upset me. I think I’m just irritable. I’m just tired and full from dinner.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to leave the room. I mean it’s my room. He was being rude by asking me to leave, but I felt obligated to be polite. My father always stresses manners. “Never show them anger unless anger is what they need to see,” my father would always say. “If they want you to be happy, be happy.” He had become so well adept at masking his emotions that I could never tell what was true and what he thought should be true. It wasn’t weak showing your emotions, it was weakness not having control of them.

There are so many circumstances in life that are unpredictable. He could not foresee my mom’s death and when it happened, he was sad. Everybody expected him to be sad, so I guess I really don’t know if he was upset or upset because they assumed him to be. He knew he couldn’t control the events, but the way he appeared to feel was in his grasp and he was brilliant at knowing how people wanted him to feel. When they told him stories they believed to be funny, he would laugh. When they told him stories they believed to be sad, he would cry. And it wasn’t just outside these walls, it was within as well.

And so, even though I was annoyed with Spec, I couldn’t show it because he didn’t expect me to be annoyed. And as long as I lived up to his expectations, he would like me and we would be friends.

To have as much success as my father, I have had to thicken my skin. I can’t just have knee-jerk reactions. I need to clench my leg and only kick it when everyone expected me to.

But the problem with thick skin is that it leaves you impervious to the sharpest of pins. Everything becomes dull. I’m no longer feeling, I’m thinking about what I should feel. It seems like a good problem to have, to not feel that sharp pin, to not feel that prick, but without that sense of pain, there cannot be that sense of relief. Ultimately, the thickened skin leaves you numb, incapable of feeling the highs and lows of life. It leaves you rough like a rock and just as inanimate.

My father is a great man, by all standards, but I don’t know if I’d consider him a great human. I could stand in front of him and say the cruelest words, the most vicious things I could think of, but he’d stand there unaffected. If he appeared hurt, he’d just be acting that way because that’s how humans are supposed to act in such a situation, but deep down, beneath the flesh and organs, there was a lifeless rock.

I guess that’s the problem with being polite. When you’re constantly thinking of others and what they must be thinking or feeling or expecting, you wind up in this perpetual state of trying to please them. You see yourself through their eyes and you lose sight of who you are.

What’s taking them so long?

I walked back in and we talked about some superficial things until Cotta and the Wilkins left.

Spec and I got ready to sleep and we lay in our separate beds. I turned to him and asked, “Do you want to share the bed like we did when I first got you?”

“Is that what you want?”

“If you want to.”

He looked over and considered his options. “Sure, that’s fine I guess.” He got out of bed and lay next to me.

“If you want to sleep in your own bed that’s fine.”

“This is okay.”

He got on his side and I cuddled up next to him. I put my hand on his and kissed the back of his head. “Goodnight.”

I closed my eyes, and I could feel his warmth and my heart beating faster than it’s ever beat. I moved my hand up his arm and laid it on his chest. His heart was beating slow, nowhere near as quickly as mine.

And then, I fell asleep.

CHAPTER TWELVE:

Caged:

The annual ball was a few days away and Kat needed a new dress, so she, my father, Spec and I went shopping.

Kat put on a vintage red gown, but she wasn’t pleased. She grabbed a pair of slippers and slammed them against the ground. “I hate red! You know I hate red, Daddy!”

Mr. Hamilton, the portly, middle-aged storeowner, laughed at her antics. “Well, we have something similar in blue. Would you like that?”

“NO! I hate blue too. Red and blue are ugly! I want green!”

My father shrugged and patted her on the head. “The girl knows what she wants.”

Mr. Hamilton scurried to the back of his store while Kat continued to pout. I noticed Spec’s disinterest so I asked my father if we could take a look around on our own for some clothes. My father consented and we went through the fashion district by ourselves.

One of the jewelry stores caught Spec’s eye, so I took him in to take a look. He stared longingly at a diamond ring. He moved the precious rock, examining it from different angles.

“I’ve seen this before. What is it?” he asked.

“Diamond.”He glanced down at the price. “What does it do?”

“It doesn’t do anything. It’s pretty.”

“Why’s it so expensive?”

“It’s rare.”

“What is rare?”

“It means there’s not a lot of it in existence.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Because not everybody can have it. It’s unique and special. And I guess, if you own it, it makes you special by association.”

“Am I rare?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Me, Cotta and Kaolin. We’re different, so we’re rare.”

“Yeah, you are, I suppose. That’s why people were willing to pay so much for you, right?”

“But back home, there are lots of people like me, so I wouldn’t be rare there.”

“You’re home now. That’s just where you were born.”

He nodded. “Right.”

We left the jewelry store and went searching for some formal attire. I found a couple of nice suits and we were set for the ball. We walked passed Hamilton’s shop, and I could see my sister wearing a green, frilly dress, slamming her shoes on the ground and screaming, so we decided to walk around the rest of the city. 

We came across one of the animal pens and Spec asked if we could take a look inside, so we did. We went passed the pigsties and into the chicken coop where the hens were locked up.

Spec placed his hands against the cages. “They’re trapped.”

“They’re being protected.”

His eyes furled. I seemed to have hit a nerve with him. It didn’t happen often -- it was difficult for him to hide his emotions which is one of the reasons why I loved him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“They’re not being protected.”

“Sure they are. If they got loose, they could run away. They wouldn’t have any food. They’d die.”

“Or they could escape.”

“Why would they want to escape? They have food and safety here.”

He rubbed the cage’s lock. “Sometimes that’s not enough.”

“Do you feel that way with me?”

“Who gets to decide who should have a cage and who shouldn’t?”

“Whoever has the key.” It was a cold response. I didn’t mean for it to be, it was just the first thing that jumped into my mind. “You know, if you ever wanted to leave, you could. Nobody’s stopping you. But you have everything you need to survive here. And you have me.”

He nodded and looked around the room. “Everything in this city is so bright.”

“Well, the brightness let’s us see everything better.”

“Right. It helps you see things more clearly.”

I didn’t want to discuss the subject any further. “We should head back.”

Spec walked out in front of me. I lingered for a moment and stared down at the many cages filled with hens. They couldn’t move. But, they didn’t need to, did they? All they needed to do was lay their eggs.

***

It was the night of the dance and my family and I walked to the City Center where the ball was being held. Spec walked beside me, adorned in a shiny black suit and looking as handsome as anyone in all of Newbury.

My father was perhaps the most excited of all of us. He always looked forward to the times when he got to speak in front of the whole town and the annual ball was such an occasion.

He greeted every individual we came across with a large smile. He knew every person’s name, every person’s story. He would ask about their family and their jobs. They loved him; they all loved him. And if they didn’t, they acted as such, since that is what he expected from them. He treated them as if they loved him and so, whether they did or they didn’t, they appeared to and thus, everyone assumed he was loved by all, especially him.

The city lights had dimmed to simulate the night, but extra bulbs had been strung up in the City Center for the ball. Everybody looked spiffy. Spec and I went our separate ways, and we soon found Cotta who was walking to a table, carrying several drinks back to his family.

“Have you seen Kaolin?” asked Spec.

Cotta placed the drinks on the table. “No, but I heard she would be here soon.”

I saw the eagerness in Spec’s eyes. “You two don’t know how to dance do you?” They shook their heads. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

The two of them followed me to the dance floor, which was essentially just the center of the venue, tables circling around.

“It’s pretty easy, really. You put your hands on the girl’s waist and you take a step forward while she steps back. After that, step to the left. Then step back. Then to the right and repeat. That’s how you dance.”

Spec nodded and put his hands on my waist. I laughed and pushed him back, “No, guys don’t dance with guys.”

“Why not?”

“Because, only guys and girls do that.”

“Why?”

“Because, that’s the way it is.”

And then, a burning, red blur appeared in the front of the stage. A girl I had only seen a couple of times appeared, blazing crimson dress flowing to the ground. Spec and Cotta watched in awe.

Kaolin looked beside her, at the woman who had bought her. Meredith Washburn looked down with a sense of pride. “Go ahead, dear. Let everyone gather you in like the light that you are.”

And then, James walked up to her. “Hi, do you remember me?”

Kaolin looked back at Meredith who nodded. Kaolin turned back to James. “Yes.”

“I’m James. Would you like to dance?”

“Yes, I would like that.”

James took her by the hand and the two danced as if they had been dancing their whole lives. Kaolin knew exactly what she was doing and looked graceful as she did. I looked back at Spec who watched her every movement. He was jealous. I could see it. I could feel it.

Kaolin’s eyes left James’ and fell onto Spec. She finished her dance and walked over to us. “Hergels. I harvulen it herbru.”

Cotta and Spec gave each other a look. The tension was palpable.

“You look great in that dress, Kaolin,” I said encouragingly.

“Thanks,” she tersely replied. Turned back to the other two. “When are we lerverlpy?”

Spec looked back at me. “Is it okay if I dance with Kaolin?”

“Sure.”

The two walked to the dance floor, leaving me alone with Cotta. Across the floor, James watched the two closely as they danced.

“What did she say? Just now…”

Cotta seemed conflicted. “We were just catching up, sir.”

“Does he like her?”

“Spec?”

I nodded.

“Of course. Don’t you?

Kaolin and Spec stopped dancing. They were standing still in the center of the floor, just staring at each other, speechless. And then, Kaolin lifted up her dress and took it off. She stood in nothing but her undergarments as those around her gasped. Spec picked up the dress and handed it to her, but she pushed it away.

“No! No more of any of this! I hate it. Let’s go! It’s arilite aberillious!” she screamed. 

“Kaolin!” Meredith appeared and quickly covered her up with the dress, pulling the girl away from the crowd.

Spec walked back, defeated. I fixed up his tie. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Okay.”

We walked away from the City Center, away from everyone and life and movement and into the stillness.

“You’re never going to like me as much as you do the others, are you?”

Spec placed his hand on my shoulder. “You kept my flame lit. Nothing changes that.”

I looked deep into his beautiful eyes and then, I kissed him.

He stared blankly at me, unwilling to reciprocate. 

“Should I not have done that?”

“It’s not my place to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do.”

“You can’t tell anybody I did that.”

“It’s not my place to tell people what you do.”

“Stop it. Stop talking like that. You only say that stuff to please me. You don’t mean it. I see you when you mean it, when you’re talking to them.”

“I don’t know any other way.”

“I love you. Did you know that?” He shook his head. “I feel about you differently than everyone else. I want to be with you all the time. I dream of you even when you’re next to me.”

“By your definition, I love Cotta and Kaolin.”

I shook my head. “No. When you love someone, you’re with them and only them. You can’t love more than one person.”

Spec was offended. “I’m sorry, but I don’t agree with you.”

“Your love isn’t real.”

“Why’s your love any more real than mine?”

“Because! Because I was born and raised to feel a certain way. I grew up understanding what real love is, and you, you just have this degraded version of it. You don’t know what love is!”

My body was trembling. I felt I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to cry until I was dead.

“You can’t tell anybody about this, Spec. Not what I said. Not the kiss. None of this happened.”

“Okay.”

We walked back to the house and neither of us said a word. All we heard were the distant echoes from the music.

When we got home, I quickly jumped into bed by myself. I didn’t look at the cracks or at Spec. I just closed my eyes and wished the day had never happened. I clenched everything and wished I had never met him. I wished I never saved him. I wished I didn’t love him. I wished I was like everyone else. I wished he was like me.

He lay in his bed beside me but again, I was alone. There were thousands of people in a mile radius, but I was by myself. Nobody felt the way I felt. Nobody thought the way I thought. Nobody saw what I saw. I could be hugging Spec, but I was still alone. I was locked up and the key was constantly and perpetually out of reach.

I wish I could just lay an egg, I wish I could be told what to do and how to do it and then I would do it and that would be purpose enough. I wish I was how my father appears to be. I wish I was everything everyone expected of me. Every day wouldn’t be so hard. Every day wouldn’t be such a challenge.

I closed my eyes and wished that when they opened, it would be the day of the ball. I wished to rewind time. I wished this was all just a bad dream as I closed my eyes, and for a moment, the world went black and the light went out.