Becoming Calder

  The fight seemed to go out of Hailey as her shoulders drooped and she looked to the left of me, out my window.

  "This is in part my fault. I gave you too much freedom and look what happened."

  Tears pricked my eyes again. "You're the only one who was ever kind to me here . . . the only one who has ever . . . who has ever showed me any love." I reached for Hailey's hand, but she pulled it away. "Please, Hailey, you've been like a mother to me when I needed one so badly. Please don't hate me. Please try to understand. Please help me," I whispered the last sentence.

  "And who will help the rest of us?"

  I blinked at her. "What if Hector's wrong about the flood? What if . . . what if it doesn't come to pass?"

  She shook her head. "It will. Hector, he . . . knows things. His marriage to you and the foretelling of the flood is the one thing that has never changed. He is very sure, and so am I."

  I looked down at the floor, tears still rolling down my cheeks. "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. I looked back up at her. "Please, please don't tell Hector what I've said."

  "I would never tell Hector. He'd punish us both. And rightly so."

  I looked down, ashamed.

  "I'll tell everyone you're not feeling well and won't be at dinner tonight. I think it's best that way," she said.

  "Okay," I croaked, knowing she was saying she didn't want to look at me anymore that day.

  Hailey turned and walked out of the room. I sunk back down on my bed and put my face in my hands and sobbed. I'd been so happy Hailey and her boys would remain in our wing of the main lodge, even when Mother Miriam returned. But now Hailey was disgusted with me, too. I felt overwhelmed by loneliness and despair.

  A little while later, I looked out my window to see Xander walking away from the main lodge, looking back over his shoulder.

  I snuck downstairs, listening toward the large dining room where I heard the sounds of everyone eating dinner. I opened the front door quietly and moved down the front stairs to the plantings below. I looked around and then reached inside the bush, removing a folded up piece of paper. I stuffed it in my skirt pocket and returned to my room where I unfolded it.

  Eden,

  I think you'll agree, that after what happened today, we need to leave here as soon as possible. Two months from today at the very latest. When you hear the call of a nighthawk, three times in a row, pause, and then twice, you'll know it's time to meet Calder and me at the spring. Make sure no one follows you.

  In the meantime, if you see any money lying around, and if it's not too risky to take it, do it. We'll need all we can get, every cent.

  Xander

  Two months? I took in a deep, shaky breath. Two months seemed like an unbearable time to wait; I had no other choice but to try to be patient. I would try my best not to look at Calder with the love I felt in my heart. And I'd pray the next two months went by without incident.

  I didn't put this letter with the ones Calder had given me, the ones I couldn't seem to part with. Instead, I lit a candle on my dresser and held the paper by the edge as it burned. When it was just a small burning corner, I let it fall into the large glass container the candle was in. I blew it out, went back to the window, and stood there simply staring out, thinking of Calder, and trying to picture us far, far away.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Calder

  I sat inside the jail room at the far end of the cellar area. I'd never been in here before, but I'd heard it was a cold, miserable little space that made repenting quickly an easy choice. What I'd heard had been true. It was small and cold, a rusty drain in the corner to piss in, a musty, rotten stench in the air. The only thing to sit on was a narrow concrete bench where I now sat with my throbbing legs stretched out straight. I grimaced as I adjusted them, thankful I didn't have the added element of holding the pain inside now. Someone had shaved or altered the bumps off that piece of metal and my bet was on Clive Richter. But if he thought I was going to give him the pleasure of seeing my pain, he was wrong. Holes in my legs would heal, no matter how bloody they looked now.

  I heard the key in the lock of the thick metal door and looked up as a small, old woman with frizzy white hair was let in and then the door was closed and locked again.

  "Mother Willa," I said, starting to stand.

  She made a sound of impatience, waving her hand to indicate I should stay seated. I sunk back down.

  She opened a large, crochet bag she had slung over her shoulder and started taking out small fabric pouches, and a little bowl that looked like it had once been a rock of some sort. As she mixed various items together with a small amount of water in her bowl, a strong herbal smell rose around me. She began smashing it and mixing it together until it was a dark green paste. She came closer to me and set it down as she examined my legs, making tsk-tsking sounds as she used her hands gently to turn them this way and that.

  "The gods had nothing to do with this," she said, almost as if to herself. "Here, take this. It will help with the pain." She handed me a small packet of powder and a wooden jug she had uncorked. "Drink it all."

  I tipped the packet of powder into my mouth and drank from the jug, emptying it. My body immediately felt warm and the throbbing in my legs began to abate. I sighed and leaned my head back on the wall. I felt something cool being applied to my legs, but didn't look down.

  After a minute, Mother Willa asked, "What in this world did you do to displease Hector?"

  "I . . . think I threatened him, challenged him," I said, my eyes still closed. My head was starting to swim, but in a good way.

  She was quiet for a good long while. "You must leave then. Things will only get worse for you."

  I opened my heavy eyes and looked down at her. Crystal clear blue eyes met mine and I just stared into them for a few seconds. Her skin was leathery and wrinkled, her hair was brittle and pure white, and she only had a few teeth, but I swore in her eyes, she was as young as a girl.

  "I'm going to make things better," I said.

  She shook her head, applying more cool paste to my wounds.

  "You've permanently upset the balance. Things can't be made better. No. You should leave now."

  I shook my head. "There are people I love here."

  She nodded, taking out a pile of white linen strips. "Even more reason for you to leave. As soon as you are released from here, start walking, and don't stop until you're far away."

  I shook my head back and forth again, the air around me seeming to shimmer. "I can't do that. There are people here I have to take care of."

  Mother Willa sighed loudly. "You have made your sacrifice in this life, Calder Raynes," she applied a fabric strip to my knee and tied it around the back, "whether you know it or not."

  "I don't understand," I said, confused. My tongue felt thick and I worked to form the words.

  Those crystal eyes met mine. "You were very young. You must not remember coming here."

  I shook my head slightly, trying to understand. "Coming here? No. Me and Maya, we were born here."

  Mother Willa laughed softly and shook her head. "Aye. Maya, yes. Not you, Calder. You were not born here. But you belong to Hector all the same. And now you've crossed him, threatened him, and he won't abide by that. And so if you want to protect the people you love, you leave here, do you hear me?"

  "Why? What? I don't . . ."

  Mother Willa nodded and patted my foot softly. "A gift to them—that's what you were. Such a perfect boy, so very, very beautiful, to balance the imperfection they were given in your sister."

  It felt like fog was moving through my head, and I couldn't wade through it to grasp my own thoughts, or separate the ones that mattered from the ones that didn't. Surely this ancient woman was crazy, or suffering from some sort of dementia.

  "You're really old," I somehow managed, my words slurring.

  Mother Willa cackled loudly and continued wrapping strips of white material around my legs.

  "Someday you will be, too."
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  I shook my head. "Will I? Will anyone?"

  "I think so," she said, looking slightly confused before her expression cleared again. She nodded her head. "If certain things . . . yes."

  I had no idea what she was talking about, but I didn't care. Nothing seemed to matter except for the warmth flowing through my veins and the absence of pain. I closed my eyes again.

  "Do you like it here, Mother Willa?"

  She took a minute to answer. "I suppose I do. There is room for me here. And," she inclined her head toward my legs, "I earn my keep. Here I'm useful."

  I nodded my head. I'd never been doctored by Mother Willa, but I'd heard women who gave birth here sang her praises, and many wounds would have festered without her herbs, and of course, like Hector always said, the healing will of the gods. Only that part seemed questionable now.

  "But you, Calder, there is no need for a boy like you to hide away in a place like this."

  "Hide away? Is that what people here do?" My words seemed to run together.

  "Aye. And sometimes we all need refuge. This world is painful. Some people seek to belong." She shook her head. "But not when there's a price tag attached."

  I furrowed my brow, a new surge of warmth running through my blood. "What is the price of taking refuge here, Mother?"

  She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me, her pale eyes glistening. "Death," she said so simply the word almost didn't compute. "So much death."

  The room pulsed around me. All I wanted to do was sleep. "And if we leave here?" I asked.

  "Life," she said.

  The words floated around in my mind, coming together, and then drifting apart again. I couldn't connect them, couldn't apply meaning. Instead, I closed my eyes and rested.

  What seemed like a few minutes later, she patted my foot. "All done. This will keep the infection away. Keep them on, even if they itch—at least as long as you're in here—then remove the bandages, clean them, and reapply. If they get wet, apply new dry ones."

  My eyes were so heavy, but I opened them anyway and made eye contact with her. "Thank you, Mother Willa," I slurred. "Thank you so much."

  She nodded, looking at me sadly. And then she muttered as if to herself, "I tried so hard to help him understand his gift, not twist it." Pain moved across her features, making her, impossibly, look even more ancient. I frowned as she packed her things away in her bag. I wanted to question her further, but I was so tired. I let my eyes close again and this time, darkness took me, images seeming to come at me in the darkness of my own mind: large spitting snakes; Eden, arching her back in pleasure, her lips parted as she moaned out my name; and flowing water that turned from a trickle to a flood, dragging me under, into blackness so deep, I knew I'd never, ever surface again.

  **********

  I slept in that small box for most of that day. Mother Miriam, Hector's sour-faced mistress, delivered my meals. She set my tray on the floor, took the empty one, and then quickly left. I didn't attempt to engage her in conversation. There was no point, and she made it clear she wouldn't be receptive to niceties, anyway.

  The next day, when my head was clear of the herbs Mother Willa had given me, Mother Miriam also delivered a copy of the Holy Book and set that on the floor along with my meal. I placed it on the bench, but I never cracked it open.

  When the door was opened by one of the council member's sons the next afternoon, I emerged into the sunlight, squinting and drawing back from the bright glare around me.

  "Hector says you should go straight to the fields once you're washed up."

  I took a minute to adjust my eyes and then simply walked away from the boy without replying.

  I sat by the side of the river, removing the bandages Mother Willa had applied, tending to my still-raw wounds. I washed the grime from my hair and body, and then reapplied the bandages I had left drying on the river's edge in the sun.

  By the time I started for the fields, the sun was high in the sky and beat down on me. It felt good. Being clean and in the sunshine made me feel human again.

  As I passed by one of the cabins, a hand reached out and grabbed me and pulled me back behind it. I stumbled, swearing softly, and then looked up into Xander's intense expression.

  "You scared the living hell out of me."

  "Sorry. We only have a few minutes. I don't want anyone to see us talking."

  "Why not? We're friends. It wouldn't be strange to see us talking."

  Xander paused. "You're probably right. I just think it's better if we don't call attention to that fact. It'll make it more likely that people aren't watching me. They're already watching you and there's no going back from that."

  "I think it's better if we act totally normal. More attention will be drawn to you if we don't."

  Xander looked impatient. "Okay, fine."

  I nodded. "Okay, so let's walk. No hiding behind cabins."

  Xander glanced down at my legs and then we both started walking toward the fields.

  "How are you?"

  "I'm fine. Sore, but fine."

  "Kneeling in the fields isn't going to be easy."

  "I'll live. What's our next move?"

  Xander ran his hand through his hair, and looked around. "Kristi was able to come up with five hundred dollars in cash to loan us. She doesn't have a lot of money, she just works at the ranger station part-time, so that's the best she could do."

  "That's incredible. Okay. So we have over six hundred dollars then. How far will that get us?"

  "Not far. Kristi offered up the extra room in her apartment to us, but she's moving soon, going off to a four-year college, and so she'll be gone if we don't leave within a couple months or so. She said she might have some suggestions about places we can stay if it takes longer."

  I nodded. "So you think it will take a couple months for us to be ready to leave?"

  "Yes, but no longer than that. Things are only going to get worse for you, and for Eden. Plus, wedding preparations have already started with the workers. Eden's eighteen in what, three months?"

  I let out a harsh exhale. "A little less."

  Xander was quiet for a minute. "Okay, so you take what you can without getting caught. Jewelry, money, whatever we might be able to sell. The longer we have to find a job, the better, because we're going to have to use our cash to eat until then." He glanced at me. "And no going near Eden. We can't risk it."

  I let out a breath and nodded. "We need to tell Eden, too."

  "I did. I'm hoping she might have a way to get into Hector's room and see what she can find in there of value."

  I clenched my jaw, looking straight ahead. "I don't want her anywhere near Hector's room."

  Xander shook his head, looking over at me and frowning. "It's for our survival, Calder."

  I shook my head. "No. I'd as soon find a way into his room than to send Eden."

  "Fine. We'll figure out the details. Like I said, I've already talked to Eden. I told her to be cautious. She'll be ready to meet us at the spring as soon as I give the signal."

  I raised an eyebrow. "What's the signal?"

  He raised his hands to his mouth and did a nighthawk call very softly.

  I laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation. "That's not bad. Only how will we be able to tell if it's you or an actual nighthawk?"

  Xander winked. "I know. It's virtually indistinguishable. A man's got to practice something to keep his mind occupied when he's walking alone for hours a day."

  "You're a man of many talents. Seriously, how will we know it's you?"

  Xander went serious. "I'll do it three times in a row, pause, and then twice."

  I nodded. "Okay." I looked behind me and around. "I better go."

  "Yeah."

  I paused. "Xander, do you think you can help me with something? I need to see Eden one last time before I don't see her for months."

  Xander huffed out a breath. "No, Calder. You need to stay far away from Eden. Don't even look in her direction—"


  "I know. I will. Just one time. Please. It will get us both through the next few months. I promise."

  Xander looked down, clearly not happy with my request. "Fine. We'll do one practice run of her sneaking out of her room and meeting us by the spring."

  I nodded. "Thank you. Only I want to meet her there alone."

  "Yeah, I kinda figured I wasn't invited."

  I smiled. "Thank you."

  Xander nodded. "Thank me when we're walking out of here."

  "I will. We need to meet again. I have some other things I want to talk to you about. But I need to get to the fields now before I'm missed and Hector forces me to sleep on jagged metal tonight."

  Xander flinched and nodded. "We'll sit by each other like usual at breakfast in the morning and come up with a meeting place."

  I nodded, smiled, and started to walk away toward the fields once again. Xander softly made the nighthawk sound behind me and I laughed softly, shaking my head.

  Xander had been my friend for so long. I couldn't imagine life without him. Our plan had to work; we had to get out of here. The pain in my legs was nothing compared to that of my heart when I considered being separated from Eden for more than a few months. Our plan had to work, it had to.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Eden

  I sat on my bed, Hector's Holy Book in my hands, not reading, but playing a game where I asked a question about the future and then opened it to a random place and used my finger to blindly point to a word, wherein I opened my eyes and used the word to discern the answer.

  It was a game I'd played with one question or another since I was young. It was immature, I knew, but I was bored.

  "Will Calder and I live happily ever after?" I whispered.

  I opened the book and closed my eyes and used my finger to settle on a place on the page. I opened my eyes. The word sitting directly above my finger was "perchance."

  "Perchance?" I grumbled aloud. "Really?" I huffed out a breath. "Best choice out of three," I murmured, beginning to open the book to a random spot once again.