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Here it is! I apologize for the delay on posting, I was doing some rewriting based on feedback I received, and some unexpected stuff came up the last few weeks that kept me busier than I had expected. I'd greatly appreciate any feedback you have on this story, whether via a comment on this post or an email to claraharneywrites@gmail.com
I hope you enjoy!
She kissed him goodbye, drawing in his scent with her whole being. She pulled back just enough to gaze at his face, but her eyes were so filled with tears all she saw was a tall blur. He clasped her shoulders tightly.
“Ellie,” he wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’ll come back to you. You gotta keep hopeful, for the sake of Jacob.” He knelt down to the sleeping baby in the stroller, traced his fingers over the little nose.
“I will,” she whispered. “I’ll try. It’s just...I won’t know how long...”
“I know.” he said, walking backwards slowly. “But you gotta keep up hope for me.”
“God will be your strength!” She cried. He put his fingers to his lips and shook his head.
“Don’t give ‘em any cause to watch you. Blend in whenever you can. Please, for my sake.” She still couldn’t see him right, and wiped the tears angrily. Would she not even be able to see his face before he left? And he was gone.
She sliced a bell pepper, the knife gently scraping the cutting board. Her new routine with Jacob was frighteningly quiet. Even after the first few weeks of adjustment, she desperately needed another human voice. She’d used to sing as she cooked, but trying now felt like engaging in a battle against silence. And it was a battle she always lost. So, she worked without sound, like a sparrow waiting for a storm.
She wiped her hand on her apron and picked up the little picture on the counter beside her. There was a strange satisfaction in the fact that the government seemed to resort to old methods under pressure. She’d never had a printed photo of Garret like this one. Of course, they had a website to track the happenings, updated with terrifying little lists of the dead. And she was one of the few who had access.
The wide smile and firm jaw she loved appeared flat and fake on the paper. She tore her gaze away and set it down to season the tray of veggies. After sliding it in, she slammed the oven shut and the air flicked the photo onto the burner. She didn’t notice until it was crumpled to ash. And he was gone.
“Four dollars?” She weighed the ripe tomato in her hand. “That’s ridiculous.” Jacob grunted in the cart, kicking his feet.” Her grip tightened on the tomato. “Excuse me,” she locked eye contact with a passing employee. He had one earring from which a large feather swayed.
“What?”
“Why do these tomatoes cost so much?”
“Uh, I don’t know. Inflation.”
“What’s causing the inflation?”
“I don’t know. I’m just an employee.”
She could feel her fingernails cutting into the juicy flesh.
“I usually order online. I’m here for answered questions. From real people.”
He rolled his eyes. “Uh, the economy changes, alright. I don’t know.”
“Oh yeah, the economy!” She threw every ounce of sarcasm she possessed into the words.
“So...is there anything I can do for you?” He looked genuinely confused, now.
Calm down, Ellie, she told herself. You’re trying to get information about government spending from an employee? They’re watching you. She took a deep breath and attempted to nonchalantly set down the tomato before turning back to thank the employee. And he was gone.
What does he want you to do? The online counselor algorithm flashed on her screen. Jacob was scooting towards her with a cry forming on his face. She scooped him up and responded verbally.
“He wants me...he wants me to be safe.” She could feel a cry forming somewhere in her own throat. “So he told me not to draw attention, not to say anything or do anything that could draw the attention of the Agenda enforcement.
“It’s just that he wasn’t recruited, you know?” She swallowed. “He didn’t get a choice, and he hates it, and I don’t get a choice and he’s gone, and I can’t talk to anyone about this except you, who doesn’t even exist.”
There was a pause before the counselor flashed his response. It is alright to be sad. It is alright to be angry. Hiding your feelings is not a healthy solution. She stared at the screen and then carefully, slowly, shut the laptop. And he was gone.
Loneliness settled in like a familiar ache in her lower back from forever lifting Jacob. She’d tried to avoid going out, ever since her misstep with the employee. She must control herself at all costs, Garrett was counting on her.
But as she peeled a banana for Jacob, the picture screen on the wall caught her attention. It was a photo of her and Garrett she hadn’t seen for years. They had gone stargazing on one of their first dates, and she had full on lost her temper when an officer asked them to move off of the field.
Hadn’t Garrett first noticed her, he had said, because of her fiery spirit and justice loving nature? And how was his plight to be helped if nobody did anything at all? Protest was a prerequisite to change. She tossed the peel in the trash, and turned to Jacob in his high chair. He had Garrett’s smile, that was certain.
Someone knocked at the door, and she whirled around. Holding the banana in trembling fingers, she headed to the entryway.
Get a grip on these nerves, she told herself fiercely. She opened the door. No.
“Agenda enforcement, please do not bar the entry.” There were two, and one of them indicated to the patch on his uniform.
“What do you want?” Fear increased her fury.
“Please do not bar the entry, Mrs. Hilson.” He repeated. He shifted a lozenge to his other cheek. “We’ve received verified reports that you’ve spoken of a confidential situation aloud intentionally. To a laptop recording your words that could easily have been hacked.”
“I’m not falling for your intimidation tactics. Is what I did a crime?” She hated the tremble in her voice. “Or is that you making up an excuse? I won’t give you an opportunity again.”
The other one stepped forward, seeming amused. “You also expressed in a private message to a friend that you hate the Agenda and would gladly overthrow people with power to enforce them.” She felt the little breath she had go out of her. There was nothing about Garrett’s mission in that, she had revealed nothing. Nothing but her own betrayal.
“And what if I deny that?”
The shorter one actually laughed, this time, and pushed past her into her house.
“What are you doing?” She was screaming now, grabbing and trying to pull them back. “Get out of here! This is our home!” They were heading for the kitchen, pushing her away without violence. “My husband is risking his life for your senseless, stupid, evil Agenda. And you come here to terrorize me?”
Jacob started wailing in terror as the taller officer fidgeted with his tray and pulled it off, deftly unbuckling his belt.
“No! What are you doing? Don’t you dare lay a finger on him!” She grabbed for Jacob. The short one held her off.
“Mrs. Hilson,” he said with the same amusement, “You are incapable of caring for this child and raising him up correctly. Early impressions make a big difference, and he can’t be injured by your beliefs anymore. Hopefully you’ll learn from this.”
She gasped hoarsely and grabbed for Jacob one last time. His arms stretched out to her, crying, before they slammed the door in her face. And he was gone.
She did not know how many days she had spent huddled senselessly on the kitchen floor next to the high chair. Only for Garrett, only for Garrett could she bear the rip of grief in submission.
Shaking, she pulled on tennis shoes without socks. She needed food. She wasn’t hungry. She rubbed her forehead as though to erase the echo of Jacob’s last cry and the slamming door. Her storm had broken and she was exposed.
Shelter. She had to find shelter.
She set out on foot towards the corner center, straight for the bookstore. Garrett had concealed their ancient copy in his bag. He needed it. But where would she find one? She caught her reflection in the waiting store window. Or was that her? She didn’t care anymore.
Pressing her face closer, she examined the interior. So many volumes, so little truth.
She pushed through the door, ignoring the bell sound and the welcome from the register. She headed straight for the spirituality section and searched the shelves, eagerly. There was one! It was an OAE, of course. She was a fool to have hoped.
“OAE would have been alright for Jacob,” she muttered. “It was all King James’ fault.” She brought it to the counter and forced herself to speak to the pink haired lady. “Do you have any editions other than the Official American?” The woman’s smile was as fake as an online therapist.
“Well no, honey, most bookstores don’t carry any other edition.” She leaned forward. “Is this one not good enough for you?”
“Oh no,” Ellie tossed her card at her. “What other edition could I possibly want?” She started laughing harshly. “What else could I possibly want?” She still laughed as she carried the ‘Bible’ out the door, at the watered down stories and trimmed up sayings contained in the little book. It was far too thin to be any protection.
She stopped and squinted into the sun. There was some event up ahead, the cityspeaker system was booming. The Agenda enforcement would be there. Jacob was with them. He would be there! There was only one way to escape the storm. She was running, now, old tennis shoes slapping the asphalt, landing in the spaces where nobody else was standing. The Mayor was on the stage, about to speak, and she lunged for the stairs. A strong arm wrenched her wrist backwards.
“Real quickly, before the concert begins, I’d like to make a special announcement about an incredible project we’re working on right now. We’ve got some amazing men and women from all over the country on this thing. It’s a special combat experiment that’s gone even better than we could possibly imagine.
“Our world is entering new times for war, and while war is of course to be avoided at all costs, preparation is paramount.”
Ellie fought against the two Agenda Officers easily holding her back. They were already in a war, and they didn’t even know. The Mayor adjusted his notes and his glasses before continuing.
“I’m sure you’ll see news coverage on this very soon, but since some key participants in this virtual reality combat experience are local, I was given permission to reveal some details to you. Simulation is the future, and --”
“Virtual reality?” It was her own voice: an incredulous shriek breaking through the presentation. Her captors started to pull her away.
“My Garrett isn’t in a simulator! He’s in a living nightmare fighting monsters you’ve created!”
“I’m sorry folks, this lady appears to be hallucinatory.” The Mayor smiled.
“My Garrett was meant to be a soldier, but not like this! He’s supposed to fight for his freedom and his family and...and for his faith, and instead he’s fighting for your Agenda that destroys all of those things. All of them, are you people listening? My son is gone!” She was sobbing, fighting for breath, now. The Mayor suddenly put his hand to his earpiece, nodded. He mouthed something at the Officers.
She looked around at the crowd, realizing the Mayor was growing closer. She was being led to the stage. They thrust her up the steps, but she caught herself and walked stiffly towards him, chin up and nostrils flared. She realized she was still clutching the Bible.
“It’s Mrs. Hilson, isn’t it? Well, Mrs. Hilson, I’m so sorry to hear you’re having a bad day.” He shook his head sympathetically towards the crowd.
“Don’t patronize me!”
“Mrs. Hilson --”
“This man before you,” Ellie called out clearly, “is a liar.” He only smiled, so she plunged on. “Do you know about the war my husband is fighting in? It’s not some harmless virtual reality experiment. It’s a death sentence. And all for a senseless, cruel, political technology dispute.” The Mayor assumed a concerned expression.
“Now what would make you say that, Mrs. Hilson?”
“Why are you asking me stupid questions? I have access to the website where they display the casualties.”
“Mrs. Hilson, would you like to see your husband? He’s in good health: well nourished, mentally stimulated, actually quite enjoying his position, although he misses you, of course.” Before she could respond, the screen behind her lit with a smiling face. Her heart stuttered.
Garrett. He was wearing a simple navy blue uniform. Her eyes chased his features up and down the massive screen as he began to speak.
“Hey, baby.” His grin spread wider than the cityspeakers cast his voice. “Just wanted to let you know I’m doing fine, here. I miss you. Can’t wait to tell you everything amazing we’re accomplishing.” He gave a little wave that was almost a salute, and remained, smiling.
It was his voice, his mannerisms. The Mayor looked intently at her.
“Well, Mrs. Hilson,” he said with a sugary edge to his voice, “don’t you want to go home now and get some rest? I’m sure we’re all relieved for you that I wasn’t lying. Wasn’t that your husband, clear and real?” He spoke like she was a child. In fact, he seemed far too eager for the answer he was expecting. This was not right.
“Jacob,” she whispered.
“What?” The Mayor leaned in, suddenly smiling.
“My Garrett misses his son,” she shouted, “He would have mentioned him, his son he loves more than anything. That was not my Garrett!”
“What son?” The Mayor didn’t hide his triumph. He turned to the crowd. “Mrs. Hilson, I regret to inform you, does not have a son.”
This time, she could not speak. She grasped desperately at her stomach. There must be a remaining shape where he had lived. Two officers mounted the stairs.
The Mayor spoke.“I’m sorry, but you’ve disrupted the public peace to an inappropriate degree with conspiracy theories. You have openly defied the Agenda and the correction its enforcement. You will not be continuing on as a member of this free community.” They pulled her, arms flailing, fighting.
“Don’t worry, folks,” he continued, “Garrett Hilson will be informed about this whole situation. As a loyal US citizen, I’m sure he’ll understand the steps we’re having to take right now to protect the Agenda.” They were almost to the enforcement vehicle again. The crowd wasn’t looking at her. They were looking at Garrett on the screen, who suddenly came to life again.
“Ellie.” The grin was gone, and she could hear his emotion. “You don’t know how much I long to be with you and Jacob. Truly, I miss you. I promise you: I will never leave you when they let me come back.
“But don’t worry about me, it’s not a war like we thought when I got picked. It’s all simulation, all experimentation. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I know you’ll do just fine without me. Don’t give up hope, for Jacob’s sake, and mine.”
They pushed her into the seat. She squirmed to face the screen. To face her Garrett.
‘For Jacob’s sake.’
She wept hoarsely as they pulled away.
‘And mine.’
They’d got to her. They’d set up their trap, manufactured their excuse, and they got what they wanted.
Craning her neck, she was able to see that he did smile, briefly, before the screen went black. And he was gone.