The Letting (23 page)

“You can trust me, sir. But you can’t push me to do anything I’m not ready to do. Friends don’t do that to one another.”

“Friends?” he asks. “I’ll take that, Veronica. I would very much like to be your friend.” He puts out his hand, and we shake on it. “That’s the toughest part, you know.” He leans back. He lifts one long, elegant arm in the air and points to an eagle flying overhead.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“The trust. Finding someone, anyone, who wants to be my friend because I’m me, not because of what I can do for them.”

“I can understand that.” I dig a hole with my stick.

“But you flat-out said no to my offer to live in my mansion. You’ll take the cramped quarters and the horrible food and the damned mosquitoes—by the way, why aren’t they biting you?”

“Built up a tolerance.” I shrug. “Believe me, in a couple more days they won’t want to bite you either.”

“Oh, I hope you’re right,” he retorts, swatting. “My nurse would never allow me more than a couple of bites.” He looks away. “Anyway,” he looks back at me, “you’ll take all of it to stay at your beloved camp, rather than living in paradise with me.”

“Everyone has their own version of paradise I guess,” I whisper, thinking of Phoenix and me in this very same lake, just last night.

“I guess. But that’s one of the ways I know you’re for real,” he expounds. “You turned down the luxury and the money. You asked for food for the girls, and nothing for you.”

I shrug again.

“Not many people would, Veronica. And about you not being smart, well I think that’s nonsense. Even if you weren’t one of the last remaining O’s, you’d still be a very special person.” My heart warms slightly.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“Just promise one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t let anyone convince you of horrible things about me. Form your own opinions. People who don’t have, so often attack those who do. I appreciate all the hard work you’ve done over the years.” As he speaks, my stomach flips over. “I appreciate you exactly as you are. Not despite the choices you’ve made, but because of them.”

I turn to him, stunned.

“I’m not saying I’m perfect or without fault,” he continues, looking away. “But I am doing my best in an imperfect world. My father died when I was fourteen,” he admits suddenly. “And I took over for him. Many people love me, and what I’ve done for them. Many others do not.” He tosses his head and laughs, almost as if it’s a private joke between us. He smiles at me, and then his face grows much more serious. “Just remember when you’re in a leadership position, like you and like me, it’s hard to find someone who truly cares about you without having their own motivation.”

“I’ve never thought of that,” I say, quietly.

“Because you haven’t dealt with that many rebels,” he explains, arching his back to stretch his spine. “One day someone will try to convince you that I’m the Devil and you are therefore guilty by association. And one day they’ll try to get you to turn on me. I just hope you remember today, and that we’re friends, real friends, because of who we are. Not despite it.”

My head grows dizzy, and I’m clouded by confusion. Is it possible this boy cares about me because of who I’ve been, and the other, despite it? We hear a noise from the woods and Farnsworth is on his feet, before me. It is a soft noise, almost a flutter, like someone very light on his or her feet.

Not Phoenix, I pray silently. Not now. It’s too soon. But when I open my eyes to see what is happening, Farnsworth is walking toward me with a small, injured bird in his hand.

“It must have fallen from its nest,” he concludes, looking up through the trees for the bird’s possible home.

“Is he hurt badly?” I ask, walking to Farnsworth.

“It’s hard to tell. Might be his wing.” He opens the bird’s wing with one hand while he holds its body in the other. When he tests the second wing, the bird squawks. “That’s it. I don’t think it’s broken, but it might be sprained. If it’s okay by you, maybe we should head back to camp and see what we can do for him.”

“Okay,” I mumble, utterly confused. “I’ll uh, call for the cart to drive back up that hill.”

“I can walk up a hill, Veronica.” There is a note of sharpness in his voice.

“I’m certain you can, sir. But I thought it would be better for the bird if we hurried.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, letting me radio for help. Truthfully, I know he could never make it up that path, but I won’t tell him that right now. Not now, when he is doing such a remarkably selfless thing. The three of us sit together on a large rock as we wait for the cart to come to take us up the hill. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him petting the bird so gently it moves me. He catches me looking at him, and his eyes meet mine. I sit there, my eyes searching his, looking for an answer. Looking for proof he is the killer I think he is, and not the kind, confident, misunderstood leader he is being right now.

Chapter Eighteen

I am lying on my cot with three mushrooms resting on my belly. They rise up and down in time with my breath, and I debate, over and over again, eating them. What happened this afternoon? Who was that man at the lake with me? Is he a ruthless, selfish dictator? Or is he a soft, gentle man who is doing the best he can to handle a world that is out of control? And more importantly, why am I having these doubts?

I look over at Gretchen who is sleeping soundly in her cot. I wonder if she ever even woke up today. I look at her for a long time, questioning who she really is. What happened to the best friend I shared everything with? Is she still in there, somewhere? Did disgust over our perceived world make her change into this new person, this rebel, or is it all because of love for a boy? And what about Phoenix? Gunnar and Buzzcut made no secret of the fact they were hunting me, so how do I fit into this picture? Has Phoenix really fallen for me? Or am I simply a valuable commodity? And is he certain Farnsworth is behind all of these atrocities?

I lift the mushroom up and stare at it, long and hard. How can something so small be capable of causing so much damage? Then I think of tiny Lulu, rallying troops to help Gunnar in his planned overthrow of our government. I close my eyes and concentrate. What do I know for sure? What are the facts? I have strong feelings for Phoenix, yes, but in truth, I don’t know him at all. I thought I knew Gretchen inside and out, yet for years, she kept the ultimate secret from me. People tell me Farnsworth is, in no uncertain terms, a child-killer, but today I saw a very kind man who saved an injured bird’s life. What is real? And how do you ever know? Underneath it all, there is only one thing I can be certain of. My mother. My mother would be in contact with me if she were alive. So the only plausible explanation is that Farnsworth has taken her life, directly or indirectly. I pop the mushroom in and chew quickly. I swallow hard before I can change my mind. I just hope I have the right reasons for sending a man to his death.

I doze off for awhile, but I’m awakened by a light scratching on my screen window.
Phoenix?
I wonder as I spring up out of bed. I rush outside careful not to let the door slam shut behind me. I run to the side of the cabin and my heart drops when I realize it’s only a June bug, bouncing against the screen. I turn, heartbroken, and begin to walk back to the door, careful not to wake anyone in camp. Then I hear something.

“Ronnie?” I turn in the darkness and see Phoenix, crouching low on the ground beside a bush.

“Phoenix…” I cry, rushing into his arms. We embrace, and I let all the concerns I have fall away for the moment. I let the excuse of my sleepiness allow me to act without thought. I just want him and here he is.

“Ronnie…” His hand strokes my hair.

“It’s not safe here, you have to leave. He’s here, right here, in that cabin…” I point toward the once abandoned cabin at the edge of camp. “He has guards. Anyone can spot you. Please,” I beg.

“I know. But I couldn’t stand how we parted. I do trust you, Ronnie, more than anyone ever in my life. And I’m sorry I never told you about me having been a Harvester. I just…I guess I just want to pretend it never happened. And there is no way I think I’m any better than you. Please,” he pleads, holding me by the shoulders. “You have to believe me.”

“I do.” And right then and there, I know how to recognize what’s real and what isn’t. I listen to my heart. And my heart says I have to believe Phoenix.

“I always believed I needed to keep my friends close and my enemies closer, but Ron, I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want us to be apart, ever again.”

“Me either,” I say, my eyes tearing. “But what can we do?”

“I don’t know how, but we’ll find a way. None of this has gone as I’ve planned. None of it. But maybe that’s how I know it’s right.”

“Veronica?” I hear, and I turn, startled. In the black cloak of night, Farnsworth has found us.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I think that’s the question I should be asking you,” Farnsworth snaps, looking at Phoenix deliberately. “It seems to be a nasty little habit you have, sneaking off to meet your friends in these remote places in the middle of the night.”

“I wasn’t sneaking. I heard a noise,” I claim, having no better lie prepared. “I didn’t know what it was.” I am stalling, trying anything. I know Phoenix must have his gun, but I know if he uses it now, the small army Farnsworth brought to camp will retaliate and shoot him for sure. We are all standing still, waiting for someone else to make a move.

“And what was it?” Farnsworth asks in his snakelike tone. “The noise you heard?”

“It was me.” Phoenix steps forward. “I’m a wanderer. I stumbled into the camp and this girl came out to head me off. All I’m looking for is some food.”

“Really?” Farnsworth asks, skeptically. “And you just happened to guess the nickname of this girl you just stumbled upon?” I look at Phoenix, panicked. There is no way out of this. Everything we’ve done is illegal, from our feelings for one another, to our plans for a revolution. Gunnar will march into the Inferno in a few days if we don’t stop him, and there is no way out of any of this for us.

“It’s not her, it’s me,” Phoenix declares, pushing me behind him and standing up tall, toe to toe with Farnsworth.

“You?” Farnsworth asks. I can see his small eyes trying to look deep into Phoenix’s mind. Trying to figure him out.

“Yes.”

“But I know you, from… somewhere…”

“My face is common,” Phoenix shrugs and despite everything, I have to smile, knowing this is anything but the truth. “Veronica has no interest in me.” He is trying to sway Farnsworth. “I’ve tried, but I’ve gotten nowhere with her. As a matter of fact, she’s told me in no uncertain terms that it will never happen between us.”

“Is that true, Veronica?” Farnsworth asks. He sounds honestly interested.

“Yes,” I lie, closing my eyes and letting the words hiss out. “It’s true.”

“I see.” Farnsworth looks past Phoenix, at me. “I’m sorry for you,” he tells Phoenix. “Must be horribly disappointing. Veronica is…” I can see the muscles in the back of Phoenix’s neck clench as he waits for Farnsworth to complete his thought. “Well, she is something, isn’t she?” Even in the dim light we are standing in, I can see Farnsworth sizing up Phoenix. He must feel inferior. “Even I got farther than that, didn’t I, Veronica? Those few lovely, special moments between us?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” I stammer. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do, Veronica. Those moments holding hands. Or when you taught me to swim. Or how about just this afternoon; that beautiful time we shared on our beach when you saw me save an injured bird and you must have wondered if you were wrong about me? Do you remember that, Ronnie?” He spits the syllables of my name. I don’t say a word. “So now what,” Farnsworth asks, speaking to both of us. “I suppose you think I should just let you go back out into the woods and Veronica here, just go back to bed?”

“Yes,” Phoenix answers. “I don’t care what you do to me, but let her go. She hasn’t done anything to you except help you. Prove to her she is right to think only good things about you.”

“Oh, I’d love nothing more than to do that.” Farnsworth licks his lips as he speaks. “But the problem is that I heard most of your conversation here, tonight. And now you’re both enemies of the Principal Leader. And that just happens to be me. GUARDS!” Farnsworth shouts.

And before I know what is happening, Phoenix draws his gun, then we are swarmed by six or seven of Farnsworth’s entourage, all pointing guns at us.

“I am really so very disappointed in you, Veronica.” Farnsworth shakes his head. “I really thought you were the one.”

With that, the guards grab Phoenix and me and march us to one of Farnsworth’s waiting trucks. “Ronnie,” Phoenix yells.

“Silence him,” Farnsworth commands, and one of the guards uses the butt of his gun to hit Phoenix on the side of his head.

“NO!” I scream as they push me into the back of a truck and slam the door shut.

****

It’s quiet and dark in the back of the truck. I can hear the welcoming sounds of my camp, but I know, soon I’ll be leaving them forever. I wonder what’s happened to Phoenix and where they’re taking me. I hear the rattle and pop of the engine starting, and I know it is over. All of it. My chance to help Raven, Lilly, Violet, and my life with Phoenix. And I’ve only had the two mushrooms. I hope to God it’s enough to poison Farnsworth after they Let me. Then something strange happens, and the truck engine stops as quickly as it was started. I walk to the back of the truck bed and push the canvas flap aside, trying to see what’s happening. In the darkness, I can see only shapes, but they are running back and forth very quickly. Then I hear my name. “Ronnie?” it is a quiet voice.

“Raven?” She shimmies up the back of the truck and climbs in through the flap.

“I brought you these.” She hands me my last two mushrooms. “I found them on the floor of your cabin when I went to look for you. I don’t know why, but they seemed important.”

“Oh Raven.” I pull her tightly to me. “They are important. Very, very important. Thank you my brave, brilliant little girl.” I take the mushrooms out of her hand. She tilts her face up to me and smiles.