“You don’t think Tristan being a woman is important?” I say, smiling broadly.
Tawni laughs hard, and then recaps the canteen as if she’s afraid she might spill the few precious drops of liquid we have left.
“I guess that would be pretty important to you.”
“You guess?”
“Okay, yes, that would be important. But I’m talking important on a world scale, not just a personal level.”
I’m giving Tawni a hard time, but I know exactly what she means. I felt it, too. A couple of times I thought Tristan was about to tell me something big, but then he would make an offhanded comment, a joke usually. It’s as if he was waiting for the perfect time to tell me something, but that time never came. Or maybe he was debating whether he could trust me with some secret. I guess if I were him, I wouldn’t trust me either, not after having only just met me. It’s not like I completely trust him yet either. I mean, I want to, especially because the fate of the world seems to be resting precariously on his shoulders. Oh, yeah, and because we held hands for like two hours one night. Which was a big deal for me, who doesn’t know a slide into first base from a base-clearing homerun.
“I think so too,” I say.
“You do?”
“Yeah. Remind me to ask him about it on our next date.”
Tawni laughs again, her face lighting up, the laugh reaching her pale blue eyes. I’m happy I can make her laugh. She deserves some measure of happiness. I know I complain a lot about the hand life has dealt me, but Tawni has it bad, too. At least I know my parents are good people, even if I may never see them again. At least I want to see them again. Tawni, on the other hand, has told me numerous times that seeing her parents in a million years would be too soon.
And then…Cole.
He was the only family she really had left. I mean, maybe he wasn’t tied to her by blood, and certainly no one would mistake him for her brother, what with his dark skin against her white. But he was her family—there is no doubt about that. But now he’s gone. Laid low, like the dust on our shoes. Torn from this world with the same ferocity that his entire family was taken from him by the Enforcers.
I realize I’m gritting my teeth and Tawni has stopped laughing. Nothing like my dark thoughts to bring down the mood.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Cole.”
“Maybe.”
“Yes.” We haven’t talked about Cole since we tearfully entered the tunnels. I’ve heard Tawni’s muffled sobs both nights, but when I whispered to her they stopped, and she didn’t respond. Maybe she was embarrassed or something. She shouldn’t be. Her tears are only showing what we’re both feeling.
“Yes,” I admit.
“I’m not sure I can cope.” Her face is blank, unreadable. Her laugh lines have disappeared, her cheeks and forehead smooth once more. One of her hands is unconsciously tugging on her single lock of blue hair.
“You will. We both will,” I say, trying to imbue confidence in my shaky voice. It’s a lie. Maybe we will find a way to cope, but I don’t know for certain.
Tawni looks at me, but I can’t tell if she believes the lie. Her words don’t give me any clue either. “It’s weird,” she says.
“What is?”
“Death.”
I just look at her, wondering where she’s going with this, wondering if we’re both headed for a breakdown.
“It’s like, one moment a person you know and love is there, right next to you, and the next they’re gone, taken. Their body is still there, but you know that they’re not. Does that make sense?”
It does. I don’t know how to respond. Her words seem so calm, so rational, so well thought out. Free of emotion. Almost.
“He’s gone forever,” she says, her voice quivering slightly.
“Deep breaths,” I say, stopping to heave in and out a few times, taking my own advice. It’s what my mom used to say when I got upset about something that went wrong at school. She was always a master of controlling her emotions. I never saw her lose her temper, or even cry, not once.
Tawni follows suit, crosses her arms, closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, holds it for a second, and then releases it. When she opens her eyes, the tightness in her lips is gone.
“Thanks,” she says.
I try to remember any other advice from my parents that might apply to our current situation. One thing springs to mind. “My grandmother was my best friend,” I say slowly, trying to get my words right, make them perfect. Tawni is watching me closely, her head leaned back against the wall. “She used to tell me stories, read me books, treat me like an adult and a child at the same time. She was…she was…” My voice catches in my dry throat.
“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Tawni says, coming to my rescue.
I force down a swallow, nod my head once. “Yes, she was. Amazing. She died when I was six.”
“I’m sorry,” Tawni says.
“It’s okay. At the time I was a wreck. I wouldn’t leave my room, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t speak. I didn’t even want my dad to teach me how to fight anymore.”
“Your dad was teaching you how to fight when you were six?” Tawni asks, her eyebrows raised, her lips curling slightly.
“He started when I was three,” I admit.
“That explains a lot.”
I laugh, and Tawni does, too. Now she is helping me.
“My dad told me to celebrate my grandmother’s life, not mourn her death. We spent a whole day, just sitting on the floor across from each other, telling stories about her. How she made us laugh, how much we loved her smile, all the happy memories we had of her. When we were finished I was still sad, but it felt different somehow. Like she was still with me—not gone forever.”
“I don’t know if I can handle that,” Tawni says.
“Well, if you ever want to try, just let me know.”
Tawni stares into space for a minute. I just sit there, too, hoping she’ll open up to me.
Finally, she says, “Okay, I’ll try, but I might have to stop.”
“Okay. Do you want me to go first?”
“Please.”
I didn’t know Cole for long, but the time I had with him is precious to me. I close my eyes and try to remember something special about him, but the first thing that pops into my head is a horrifying vision: Rivet wrapping his arms around Cole’s neck, wrenching his skull to the side, snapping his neck; my screams; the blood on my hands as I stab Rivet in the chest; the pain of losing Cole replacing my lust for revenge; Tawni’s shaking, sobbing breakdown later that night. No!
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, hoping I can gain control of my thoughts. This was my idea, after all, and if I can’t control my memories of Cole, how can I expect Tawni to?
Suddenly I remember something good. “Remember when Cole took that punch for me, during the prison riot?”
“I didn’t see it, but I remember how his eye looked afterwards.”
“Like he’d run headfirst into a wall,” I say.
“And he had a hard skull. Imagine what your face would’ve looked like if the guy had punched you.”
“I would’ve been unrecognizable,” I say. “Remember how stubborn I was after? How I said I could take of myself?”
“I’ve seen you take care of yourself. You’re more than capable.”
“Yeah, but in that situation I was in way over my head. That dude was a giant. He might’ve killed me. It was then that I knew Cole was special.” My voice catches, but I plow ahead, trying to mask it. “It’s so weird. I knew him for such a short time, but I would’ve done anything for him. He was just so…”
“Pure?” Tawni suggests, making eye contact.
I brush my dark hair off my face with my hand. “Yeah, exactly. Like all the bad stuff that happened to him didn’t muddy his soul at all. Like he was above it all, better than this world. In the muck, but not part of it.” My soul feels like it’s slowly healin
g. This therapy session is for Tawni, but I’m benefitting, too.
Tawni smiles. “I’m glad you felt that, too. Although I knew Cole for five years, I can still remember when I first met him.”
“How’d you meet?”
“He saved me, too,” Tawni says, closing her eyes. I can almost see Cole’s strong face behind her eyelids. “Even though we were rich, my parents sent me to a local school. They said it was so I could live a normal life, but looking back, I think it was just another way to get close to other moon dwellers. You know, so they could report back to the Sun Realm on what the mood was in the Moon Realm.” Tawni’s eyes are open again and she’s frowning. I need to steer her thoughts away from her parents, who only make her angry.
“You met Cole at school?” I ask.
Her eyes soften and she glances at me. “Yes. The kids gave me a hard time at school. First off, I’ve always been freakishly tall. They called me things like Tawni the Giant, Ogre-Girl, and Freakazoid.”
“But you’re so pretty,” I say. I’m honestly shocked. I thought she would have been one of the cool kids at school, little miss popular, with good looks, lots of money, guys lining up for her attention. I never considered the possibility that she was bullied.
Tawni blushes. “Thanks,” she says. “Cole always said that, too. Even though the kids made fun of me, it didn’t bother me too much. They were just words. It was my parents that caused the real problems.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my mind filling with thoughts of her dad beating her, her mom verbally abusing her—perhaps they locked her in her room for days at a time.
As if reading my mind, she says, “My parents didn’t do anything to me directly. But because of who they were and the money we had, the kids at school took their bullying to a new level. They still yelled names at me, but they also started spray-painting my locker. Rich bitch was one of their favorites. But that didn’t satisfy them because I ignored it, pretended not to see it. So they took it up another notch. They knocked my books out of my hands, pulled my hair in class, tripped me in the halls. I remember lying to my parents about the scrapes on my knees and elbows, telling them I fell down playing basketball at recess.”
I pull my mouth into a tight line. I remember when I found out about the lavish lifestyle that Tawni had. A big house. Servants. Gobs of money. My first reaction was anger. I never considered that Tawni paid the price for it at school. I feel ashamed.
She continues. “It was getting pretty bad, and I was considering telling someone. The principal, maybe. A teacher. Anyone but my parents. One day I was outside the school, eating my lunch by myself, trying to make myself invisible.”
Her story reminds me of how I was in juvie, in the Pen. I was the same way. Always alone. I wonder if it’s why she approached me in the Pen in the first place. Because she knew how I was feeling.
“There was this guy, Graham, who, along with his girlfriend, Tora, had been messing with me lately. They came up behind me and pushed me over. My food spilled everywhere. When I tried to pick it up, they stepped on it. A few of their friends saw what they were doing and came over to join in the fun. There were eight of them, four guys and four girls. I had never seen them this bad. I could see in their eyes that they wanted to hurt me. Not just humiliate—but physically injure me, maybe kill me. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
Tawni is not like me. She’s not tough. She’s fragile. All I want to do is protect her. I pray I’m strong enough.
“Some of them picked up stones and were ready to throw them at me. That’s when I met Cole. My knight in shining armor. He burst through the circle like a bull. Two of the guys went flying. The other two guys tried to hit him, but Cole was made of steel. He blocked their punches and knocked them out. He wouldn’t hit the girls although I could tell he wanted to. Instead he growled at them to run away and they did. He got suspended for two weeks, and I started spending all my time with him. No one messed with either of us again. He was my best friend.”
Her eyes are moist, but not with sadness. Her pride at having known Cole is just spilling over. I hug her.
We sit for a few more minutes, resting our legs, and then start up again. As I stand, I try to brush some dirt off my black tunic, which is borrowed from Tawni’s mother. The dirt is stained on the garment. It’s filthy. The last time I came close to taking a bath was when we jumped down the waterfall back in subchapter 26. But we didn’t have time to use soap with Rivet and his gang right on our tail. I am loathe to change into one of the other two clean tunics—also “borrowed”—as I’m hoping to save them for when I’m even more desperate. From our time spent in the Pen, both Tawni and I are used to living with poor hygiene.
Ten minutes later, we see something unexpected. For the first time since leaving the Moon Realm, we come to a crossroads, as another tunnel intersects with ours, shooting off to the left and right, perpendicular to our passage.
The thunder of marching boots sends shivers through the rock and through my bones.
David Estes, The Moon Dwellers
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