The Variables (41 page)

Darla sat and looked out the window to the world below. Her last plane ride, her wife had been by her side. They had been trying to entertain Teddy, letting him unwrap a new coloring book and crayons as a treat. When they landed in Portland, the world was going crazy and people were dying, she was worried. But she didn’t know that soon the virus would take one of the most important people from her life in an instant. She didn’t worry about falling in love again some day; she had no intention of letting another person slip into her life. She was still married. She was still in love. Her family might be broken, but she wouldn’t let it beat her. Only Teddy mattered now.

If it hadn’t been for Ethan, she and Teddy would be dead, too. That powerful realization was enough to keep her awake at night.
 

Sometimes she wondered if she made the right decision.

Survival was a powerful instinct and the desire to live and fight took over without much forethought. Ethan offered her life and she took it, not understanding what that life would look like.

From the front of the plane, Blair emerged, and she scanned the empty seats. She glanced at each passenger before making a beeline to Darla. It was too late to feign sleep or look engrossed in a magazine, so Darla just watched as she waltzed up the aisle and stood above, and tapped her fingers against the cloth seat back.

“May I sit?” Blair asked and pointed to the seat on the aisle.

Darla motioned that it was okay.

Blair sighed and leaned her head back. The plane caught a bit of turbulence and the cabin jerked for a second before settling back into smoothness.

“How is everyone?” Blair asked.

Darla shrugged. “Tired. Good. A bit wary.”

“Wary?”

“They just want to make sure that the plane lands...and that the pilot upholds his end of the bargain. Our lives depend on it.”

“He will,” Blair said with a defensive tic.

“Look, it’s none of my business, but—” Darla said, shifting her body against the window so she could look at Blair without turning.

“Oh, please.” Blair didn’t move. She waved Darla away. “You don’t know me, but I’d prefer if you spent at least an evening in my presence before assuming that the only thing of value I have to offer anyone is my
body
.”

“Fair enough,” Darla said. And then after a moment, “But you’re confident? That’s he’s trustworthy.”

“Do you think I’m trustworthy?”

“Grant vouched for you. So, I’m trusting you. I didn’t say it was easy.”

Blair didn’t answer right away. And when she did, she changed the subject. “My brother and I never married. Neither of us,” Blair said. It was such a non-sequitur comment, but Darla didn’t push back. She just kept looking at the woman sitting next to her, watching the way she let her long legs drift out into the aisle of the airplane, and the way she kept tucking a wisp of hair back behind her ear. Blair didn’t look right at Darla as she spoke; she let her eyes settle on the seat in front of her, and she picked at a sticker on the upright tray table. “You see...how do you do that? Invite someone into your life and fall in love with them and then say...I have this secret.”

“We all have secrets,” Darla interjected. She knew as she said it out loud that it wasn’t the same.

“Oh, yes.
Normal
secrets. But my family didn’t have normal secrets...we had secrets that came equipped with clauses. Secrets that could kill you. My father would not have hesitated to dispatch his men if he thought I had compromised any part of his plan. He’s not loyal, my father. That’s the scary part. My brother and I just knew from early on that we wouldn’t get to live out an ordinary life.” Blair unhooked and hooked the tray table. She drummed her fingers on the armrest. When she finally looked at Darla, the dark circles under her eyes were prominent. She let all her sadness seep through. “And now the world is gone...and what hope do I have now? It wasn’t unreasonable to want to be a part of something outside of myself. Everyone else had families. And I was alone. He was alone, too. We were both broken...it wasn’t unreasonable for me to think that we could be good for each other.”

“I’m not following,” Darla said. She tucked her legs up under her.

“Teddy.”

It took Darla a second to respond. “
My
Teddy.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“My Teddy?”

“I looked at him and saw a boy without a mother.”

Darla was quiet. She looked down at the blue and gray patterned carpet in the middle of the plane.

“We had that in common. It was something I could understand. I’ve spent my entire life trying to understand how a woman can bring you into the world and then forget you existed. You don’t recover from that, you know. I wanted to tell Teddy that his mother didn’t have a choice...that she didn’t
leave
him. It may sound ridiculous, but I thought that maybe if he knew the truth, then he’d have a chance to be normal.”

“Because your mom left you?” Darla asked.

The question hung in the air and Blair batted it away. “I don’t need to indulge in a therapy session about my childhood.”

“I’m just trying to under—”

Blair sighed and then stood up; Darla wanted to reach out to her, but she restrained herself. “It seems stupid to you. That I attached myself to a kid that’s not mine. I shouldn’t have said anything. Shouldn’t have told you. But I didn’t know you were alive...and it changes everything...don’t you see? And now...”

“Sit back down,” Darla said softly and she pointed to the seat, but Blair ignored her. “I’ll even say please, if you need me to.”

She had started to cry. “What do I do now? It feels like such a loss.” She wiped away her tears and then looked at her wet hands with frustration. “When do I get to keep anyone that matters to me? Why is that too much to ask? So stupid. So stupid.” Her eyes were pleading. “How can I be so angry that you exist and yet so relieved that you are alive at the same time?”

The statement hit Darla like a sucker-punch, and she stared up at the woman whose love for Teddy was laid bare. She had thought of Teddy every waking hour since he had been taken from her; she had imagined his tears, his cries, and his calls out to her. It was the Teddy shaped hole in her own heart that hurt the most, and Darla had not for a second contemplated that anyone else could love him the way she did.

“Saving me cost you more than I realized,” Darla said to her. She rubbed her eyes as the plane bounced. “Blair...thank you. I can’t repay you.”

“No, maybe not.” The plane jolted again and Blair held on to the back of the seat to catch her balance. “But it’s not about me anymore. It’s so much bigger than me. I want to help you because Teddy deserves his mother...not some substitute. I want to keep him, Darla. But I can’t. Now that I know everything you did to get back to him...I can’t.”

A small ding-dong interrupted them.

Hank’s voice came over the speaker, “Alright y’all, we’ll be landing shortly and...as the last plane to arrive my margin for error is small. If I miss it, I’ll take another go. But let’s just buckle ourselves up. Bumpy doesn’t begin to describe what’s coming.”

Hank dropped the plane down on to the Maine coastline and hit the small runway on the first try. From Darla’s vantage point, she could see the lights of a city out at sea as they came in from the south. She couldn’t help but gasp. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. A tower grew upward to the sky and five arms stretched outward to other mini towers. Off of those towers were smaller structures and mounds, and the whole thing seemed to float above the water. It was lit up against the backdrop of the horizon with thousands of tiny white lights. That was what they were up against—a fortified city on the ocean.

When the plane came to a stop, Hank emerged from the cockpit and held up his hand. He stared at each of them in turn.

“They know I’ve landed. I had to call it in. They’ll be sending a helicopter over for me, Blair, and Grant within the next ten minutes.” He looked at Blair and she stood, and cleared her throat.

“Wait until we’ve left. Only then is it safe to leave this plane,” she announced. “When you exit, there’s a little amusement park. Go there. There’s shelter. Don’t leave. Don’t try to venture out. And wait for me.” She had taken off her heels mid-flight and she shifted her weight on the balls of her feet. From beyond the airplane, Darla thought she could hear the steady sound of chopper blades cutting through the air.

“That’s it?” Darla asked. “Wait for you? For how long? With what resources? There’s food there? That’s unacceptable. I want to see my son. Now.”

“It’s not that easy,” Blair added in a rush. “I’m doing everything I can...”

“I’m a mile away from my kid and you want me to go spend my time hiding in some empty funland? No way.” Darla hit the seat in front of her, and let out a disgruntled sigh. Her hands were shaking and she turned from the group to gather her emotions. “This can’t be happening...”

Frank sensed her anger and barked in her direction. Blair reached for his leash and tugged on him to quiet him down.

Dean stepped forward toward Darla, his hand outstretched, and then he moved back. He wrapped his arms around Grant instead and gave him a hug, holding him for longer than Grant felt comfortable with. When Grant pulled back, he noticed his father was crying.

“Hey—” Grant said, concerned.

“We just found each other again,” Dean said. “Feels wrong to just let you go.”

“I have to go, Dad.” Grant leaned in and hugged his dad again. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. But I have to go.”

“I know you do. I know.” Dean tousled Grant’s hair. “You come back to me, okay? You’re all I’ve got now and I am not going to lose you.”

Blair ducked to look out the plane’s side window and she swore under her breath. “We all have to go. You don’t have much time. Look, Darla, Teddy is safe with me. And I will bring him to you as soon as I can. Give me time,” Blair said, her voice pleading. “Time means a good escape...time means you and Teddy will be safe forever...”

“How much time?” Darla asked.

Blair shrugged, frowning. “Until I have it all figured out...how to get him to you, forever, safely. Don’t you see? It’s not like I can just go and get him, and come back here. What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to explain that? There’s more to it than that...if you want to be safe,
forever
, if you don’t want to spend your life wondering if the bogeyman is coming back for you, then you’ll wait. And you’ll trust me.”

“I can’t—” Darla said. “I can’t just...not do anything.”

“We have to,” Dean said. He patted Grant on the back.

The pilot made his way to the emergency exit and lifted the hatch and deployed the slide. It unfurled and plumped up and settled on the sand below. He took the leap first, sliding down the bright yellow plastic to the ground, and Blair followed. When she reached the bottom, she called to Grant to join them and for everyone else to stay hidden until the area was clear.

The helicopter was closer now—a tiny dot against the backdrop of the blue sky.

Grant turned to his dad.

“Do what she says,” he said to Dean.

“Hey,” Dean said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through a lot to get to you. We’re a tough group...we’ll be fine.”

“Dad—” Grant started and stopped. He looked down the slide at the pilot and Blair below, and he ran his hand through his hair. “I love you.”

Dean nodded. “Of course, son. Now stop or I’ll think you’re trying to say goodbye.” He gave him a little push and Grant took the hint. He started to walk toward the slide without looking back.

“Stop!” Ainsley said and Grant paused to look at her. She slid out from behind her seat and held up an airsickness bag. “Here,” she said and extended it toward him. He balked a bit before reaching out and grabbing the white paper from her. Up close he realized that she had written a note in the margins, her girly script wrapped itself up the sides and around the back. “For Ethan,” she said. “Make sure he gets it, okay?”

“I can’t—” he said, stealing a look at Blair waiting for him down below. “There’s no way she’ll let me risk it,” he added in a whisper.

“Please,” Ainsley pleaded. “I’m begging you. I need Ethan to read it. I need...”

Grant looked at her, the girl with the angular face. He couldn’t help but stare at the sharpness of her features, the deep hollows of her cheeks. He caught a glimpse of the note as he folded it into fourths to put in his pocket.
I’m sorry I couldn’t say it until now
, she had written. The thickness of the bag created a bulky square against his leg and he patted and smoothed it down. “I’ll make sure,” he said and Ainsley didn’t thank him or smile, instead she ducked back down into the seat, her wide eyes the last thing to dip out of sight.

Grant waved to his dad, then turned and bounced down the slide and hit the bottom after catching some air toward the ground. Blair extended her hand and helped him up. In unison the pilot, Blair, and Grant turned toward the sound of their incoming ride. Even Frank pulled on his leash and lifted his nose toward the sky, anticipating the next adventure. Together they ran along the sand toward the noise, disappearing out of sight. And then they were gone.

The Old Orchard Beach Carnival was once a place of joyous laughing and good-natured screams, and everything had been painted in shades of cotton-candy pastels. A giant clown gaped down at them from the entrance off the street—a scary caricature with wavy pink lips, a red dot nose, and a lopsided tongue—and Darla grimaced as they walked underneath its vapid stare. Without lights and people and happy children, the park was a sad spectacle of rusting metal, torn tents, and discarded garbage. And as the sun set over the back of the town, a brisk wind flapped through the fenced-in park, which created a chill that was inescapable. All around them darkness fell, casting strange shadows around the enclosed area, and submerging the towers of the city Blair had called Kymberlin into
 
darkness.

They wandered between the old games—Skee-ball, balloon darts (little remnants of colored rubber still nailed to the barren corkboard), the bottle toss—and in and around the defunct rides. Two letters had fallen down on the sign to the Dragon Swing and it simply read: ragon Swng. The opening to the Tunnel of Love ride was dark and uninviting; the red heart cars moved right and left as if steered by unseen riders.