The Letting (16 page)

“No sir,” I lie. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard anything that would make me scared of this facility.”

“Good.” He sits back, obviously happy with the result of my heart rate monitor. “Now one day I hope you won’t be nervous around me either.”

“Yes sir, thank you.” Nervous? That doesn’t even begin to cover it. A nurse in a white uniform walks into our room and over to Farnsworth.

“Sir?” she interrupts. “It’s really time. We need the transfusion now.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” Farnsworth’s eyes find their way to her. The woman who accompanies him starts to push his chair away. “Stop, please,” Farnsworth commands and she does. He cranes his head to look at me. “I thank you, Ms. Billings, for what you are about to do. When you are through and recovered, I would like to thank you personally.”

“There’s no need—” I begin to say, but he stops me.

“There is every need.” He smiles a wide, unnerving smile. “You’ll come to dinner at my house as my guest.”

“Thank you, sir…” I begin but again I cannot finish a sentence.

“I’m not asking, Ms. Billings.” He is still smiling but something in the way he speaks sends a shiver down my spine. “I need to at least attempt to thank you for your years of service to the government and now your service to me.” He pauses for a moment then he speaks very slowly and clearly. “Ms. Billings, no matter what else, from this moment on, you and I are more than connected. You and I are one.”

“How’s that sir?” I ask, my voice weak and hoarse.

“Your life, the very essence of you, Veronica, will be running inside of me. I will know what you think, what you feel and whom you love because I will be you. Now and forever more.” He smiles and this time his smile is distorted and snakelike. My body begins to shake violently.

“Yes sir,” I manage to squeak out, the bile turning in my stomach. Farnsworth and I are connected? Forever? How could that be possible? I look at the door to see if I can escape, but I know the answer. There is no way possible. Within the matter of an hour or less, my blood will be poured into a man made of pure evil. I feel my heart rate get away from me, and at once, all of the Lettors turn to face the heart rate monitor.

“Ah,” Farnsworth exclaims with a smug expression on his face. “We finally found something that makes the great Veronica Billings react. Now the question is, why?” He smiles again. “I’ll leave you to your business.” He is pushed toward the door, but he reaches down to stop his wheelchair abruptly. He looks at me. “Oh, and Veronica…I look forward to feeling you all over me.” He is wheeled out the door.

Chapter Thirteen

No matter what I do, I cannot calm myself. I find myself shaking, lying on the table, gasping for air. I feel like someone is choking me and I yank at my throat to get them off. Of course, no one is there. It is just the memory of Farnsworth holding me hostage. How could he say those things to me? How could he pay me those sickening compliments, treating me like I’m a Giver? Acting like he’s not a murderer? Speaking with Farnsworth has eradicated any doubts I may have had. Now I am certain what Phoenix says about him is not only possible, it’s probable. I don’t want to be Farnsworth’s personal donor. I don’t want to be anything for him, or to him. Finally, after another bout of violent shaking, I feel the sharp shooting pain of a needle in the side of my neck. I hear someone counting backwards from ten and by the number seven. I hear no more.

Now I am in a garden. A big, lush garden filled with the dandelions my mother once told me about. I look down at the picture of a dandelion she drew for me and hold it tightly in my hand. The picture begins to quiver and I watch as a dandelion springs to life and falls from the paper onto the ground. Then another dandelion falls, and another, until the already filled field is now deep with dandelions, making a warm, comforting, yellow blanket. A soft breeze blows by and then begins to grow more and more violent. A strong gust grabs the paper from my hand and whisks it away. I run after it, wading nearly waist deep in dandelions. I run until I can run no more. And there, in the distance, is my mother. Her long black hair is flecked with gray and her full hips are covered by an apron also covered with dandelions. When she stands still, it is hard to tell her from the ground. I wade out to her, and she opens her arms for me. She pulls me close and I feel warm and protected. Then, without warning, she holds me out at arm’s length. I feel so very, very tired. All I want to do is lie in the bed of dandelions and sleep. “No sleep,” she whispers. “No sleep, my angel. Mushrooms.”

“What?” I murmur.

“Mushrooms,” she repeats. I smile, desperately wishing I was still a child and she was still right here, with me. I would do anything to be back in a mushroom patch with her, foraging for the mushrooms that make me strong.

She squeezes my hand and backs away. “Wait,” I say, calling after her, but she doesn’t stop. “Wait,” I yell, tears choking my words. “Mom. Please. Mom!” But she continues to move slowly away, until she blends completely into the field of dandelions, and is gone. I look around my field filled with flowers but now, without my mother there, it looks cold and lonely. I close my eyes and open them when I feel wetness at my feet. I am ankle deep in the lake at my waterfront. Dandelions are floating on the water all around me. I can sense he’s here even before I feel his strong hands on my shoulders. I turn to face Phoenix. His look is serious, but still, he smiles at me. He leans down and kisses me softly on the lips. I feel him linger and I breathe him in.

“You are a very smart young woman,” he whispers, pulling away from me. “Remember that.”

“I’m not,” I start to say. “I’ve never been educated past the fifth grade.” But as I protest, he has also turned away. My body aches, wanting him near me again, but he slowly walks out into the lake until he is completely submerged.

“Wait,” I yell. “Don’t leave me.” But he is gone. And I am all alone. I feel a sharp prick on my arm and I slap away another mosquito.

“She’s coming around,” someone announces. It’s a voice I don’t recognize. My throat is scratchy and I try to turn in the direction of the voice. Now I feel something cold and clammy touching my hand.

“Are you sure, sir?” It is another voice.

“I can walk, thank you.” It is Farnsworth. He’s here. So I was dreaming. My mother and Phoenix; neither are here. But Farnsworth is. I hear the beat of my empty heart and wonder why it bothers.

“Is it over?” I whisper, certain no one will understand me.

“Yes, my dear,” Farnsworth coos, patting my hand. “You were magnificent. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” I attempt to turn my head, trying to face the monster, Farnsworth. I am sick to think that now my blood runs through him. “Now you must rest. And eat. And when you are better, in a day or two, you will be my guest for dinner.” I narrow my eyes, wishing they were weapons. But they’re not. And I need to keep up appearances if I want to stay alive.

“Thank you,” I whisper. I turn my head back and close my eyes, hoping he’ll think I’ve simply passed out from exhaustion.

“Come,” Farnsworth orders. “She is still very tired. Let her rest.”

“Yes, sir.” Someone answers him as I feel a sharp pain in the back of my hand. I wince. “It’s your fluids and vitamins,” the voice explains softly. “It won’t hurt so much once you’re stronger.”

“Thank you,” I whisper and whoever was speaking pats my leg very gently. I hear the door close after Farnsworth and his entourage, and I am overcome with sadness. Images of my dream flash before me and I grow more and more devastated, thinking I may never see Phoenix again. Simultaneously, my brain is alive with the idea of an escape for me, and especially for my girls. But this, I know, may never happen.

Alone in my room I ponder my dream. The images grow more and more vivid before me, and I can’t shake the idea the dream was telling me something. But what? Despite my situation, despite it all, that dream gave me hope. Hope for redemption and hope for a future. There it is again, my nemesis, hope. But why would I have hope now? What did any of it mean? The mushrooms weren’t unexpected. Mushrooms are the only remaining connection I have with my mother, and I’ve missed eating them these past few days. I probably should have eaten them. They would have made me stronger. Mushrooms make sense. The mushrooms keep my mother near, so of course they would be in my dream. The dandelions? What do the dandelions mean? Why was Phoenix there? And why did he tell me I’m “smart?” I know it’s not true…He knows it’s not true. He knows about my lack of education and frankly, if I were smart, I would figure out this dream. This dream, this dream…I close my eyes and try to take myself back. What does any of it mean? I go over it again and again until the words play through my mind like a freight train, chugging up a hill. The dandelions, the mushrooms, my mother, Phoenix…why does he tell me I’m smart? Why does she need to remind me of the mushrooms? Simply because I haven’t eaten them for several nights? I won’t forget her. And when I get back, if I ever get back, I will eat our mushrooms again. Ugh. Mushrooms, mushrooms, mushrooms. Those mushrooms. Those damned mushrooms. They taste horrible…so they made me tall…so what? Why is being tall and strong such a gift? Both of those traits make me the perfect pigeon for Farnsworth. I’m sorry, but why won’t she just shut up about those damned mushrooms? Why does she have to bother me with them even in my dream? It’s not like they’re the answer to anything.

I gasp. Suddenly my eyes widen with excitement and I try to sit up but I am still too weak. The room begins to spin. I lay my head back on the pillow and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to sort it all out. What if those mushrooms didn’t make me tall after all? What was it my mother said to me all those years ago? She said, “These will save your life.” All these years I’ve thought it meant they would offer me extra nutrition, but no. The mushrooms make my blood toxic.

“That’s it,” I blurt out to no one. My eyes fly open and I am still all alone in my room. The heart rate monitor is working overtime to keep up with me. “That’s the answer,” I whisper, barely able to believe it myself. Now all I have to do is to get to Phoenix.

Chapter Fourteen

For two whole days, I lie here like an animal being prepped for the slaughter. I am fed and massaged and monitored, and generally fussed-over. And I am really done with it. For two entire days, I have had the answer. I know how to assassinate Farnsworth without anyone knowing. But I can’t do it alone. I need Phoenix and I need my mushrooms. But how will I get to either one?

“Knock, knock.” I can tell by the gentle yet definitive tap on the door that it is Farnsworth. He has visited me several times a day these past two days. I get that he’s grateful, but he’s becoming a bit obsessive. I’ll never be his friend, no matter how many bouquets of exotic flowers he sends me. And if he’s here only because he’s worried about his blood, well, he should be.

“Hello, sir,” I mumble, purposely lowering my eyes. He’ll undoubtedly think of it as a sign of respect and subservience. The truth is I can feel myself getting stronger, my time to heal is ending, and I just want to break free of him. I have to be sure he can’t tell what I’m thinking.

“Veronica,” he murmurs, softly. There is a long, awkward silence.

“Um, how are you feeling, sir?” I don’t know what else to say.

“Well, thank you. And thanks to you. And you, Veronica?”

“Uh, much better, thank you.” My words are nearly a whisper. I am so very uncomfortable with him so near.

“I wish you would look at me,” he purrs. I am reluctant to do so. I don’t want him to see me and I don’t want to see him. But I force myself to raise my eyes. “Ah that’s better. Except you look sad. Oh Veronica, I wonder what is happening behind those exotic, beautiful, dark eyes?” He’s asked, so I’m going to tell him.

“I’m worried about my girls.” I look at him steadily. “The ones I brought in. To this Letting. I’m their caretaker, and I’m really worried they’re somewhere, alone, scared to be without me.”

“I see.” He looks away for just a moment.

“Can I see them?” I ask, my heart pounding.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Farnsworth walks away from the edge of my bed. My pounding heart stops cold. No. He couldn’t have. He could not have sent them to the New World already.

“Have you…” I ask, my voice faltering. “Have you sent them on to the New World?”

“What?” He turns to me, sharply. He looks amused by my question. “You ask it like it’s a bad thing, Veronica. Why is that?”

“No,” I respond, covering. “It’s just, I never got to say goodbye. And I had grown very fond of them.”

“Ah, I see. Well they’re not in the New World. Yet.” He punctuates the “yet” watching me, waiting for me to slip up. I brace myself and continue.

“Then why can’t I see them?”

“Because they’re back at camp.”

“They are?” I ask, flabbergasted. “Already?”

“Yes.” He leans over to smell one of the flowers he’s sent me. “Do you know what this flower is called?” he asks, obviously wanting to change the subject. I shake my head, but my mind is racing, trying to imagine who is looking out for my girls. “An orchid. Have you ever seen an orchid before, Veronica?” I shake my head again. “Well you can see more orchids, and other riches, things you could not even begin to fathom, if…” His words trail off.

“If what?”

“If you decide to stay here with me.”

“What?” I snap. I stare at his face, trying to understand what he wants.

“You don’t have to decide now. But I’ll leave the choice to you. If you stay in my world, with me, you’ll have your own private quarters with everything you have ever desired. Your sparse life at camp with protein bars and powdered milk will be a thing of your past.”

“Sir, I…”

“Shh…” He places his hand on mine. The feel of his touch makes my skin crawl. “You will come to dinner tonight, and you will see where I…and hopefully you…live. After that, you can make your decision. Either you will live a life of riches with me, or you will go back to your camp and I will summon you once a month when I need a transfusion.” I nod. “And understand Veronica, if you choose camp, your days of freedom are over. You will have a guard on you twenty-four, seven.” I feel my heart drop, but I nod my response again. “You will be brought to me tonight at six. Some of my staff will help you dress and prepare.” He turns to leave. “Veronica, I do truly hope we can be friends,” he adds, before he walks out the door.