Between the Roots (18 page)

Sammy noticed the picture was different. Seated among the roots was a young boy holding the two trees together. Sammy looked at his parents. Now he understood.

AnLillie continued, "You never once asked where we Colony people came from. Most people would trouble over that, just as the Colony people wonder where aging people came from." Her voice was growing weak. "You live between the roots."

"Sammy," his father said, "you are an 'Other,' a combination of both. You'll live a long, long time. You'll grow old, Sammy, with minor regressions toward youth later in life, but you will need to hide who you are. And you have the knowledge buds, Sammy. You were born with your ancestors' knowledge. A lot of your learning is just remembering." Suddenly Sammy knew why he seemed to know things that he hadn't been taught. "There are more of you, a whole hidden chain. You are the hope of both of our people, the aging and the reversed aging. We need you all to teach us to appreciate and respect one another, young and old, not knowing which is which. It shouldn't really matter. We're all remarkable, no matter what direction our growth takes us."

Now Sammy knew what driving force had brought him to the forest. He was a part of it all. The feelings that flooded Sammy left him quiet. He had so much to sort out. And the gnawing wouldn't leave him, because the Colony's troubles were his, all the more.

T
HE RAIN STOPPED
. Damage to the Colony was severe, but the higher germinal forest ground was spared. Sandbags placed by the townspeople lined the upper riverbank. Even so, the cresting waters destroyed four homes and several outbuildings. As the river subsided, the standing water in the forest drained quickly. The Colony people would have to wait to know if the endangered pods had survived the ordeal.

As the bad weather relaxed its hold on the community, tension over the coming trial mounted. Its outcome would have an enormous impact on the future of the Colony. A knot twisted in Sammy's gut as he thought of the possibilities. If the town favored the development company, the boys on trial would lose. The rogue people living apart and on questionably owned land would have little sympathy. The surge of support the flood brought to the Colony was likely to subside like the river.

* * *

It was Thursday evening when Sammy's mother received the news. City Hall was ransacked. Furniture had been broken and desk drawers pulled to the floor with their contents flung about the room, desk tops swiped empty, leaving broken containers scattered from wall to wall. Yet only one item was missing: a small safe containing a very old envelope.

"Last Saturday I met with the railroad commissioner," she said, and turned to her husband. "Kurt, when I realized the Colony runs the railroad, I did some research."

"And you found that lots of colonists held jobs there."

"Something more important . . . City Hall held the original deed of sale showing the Colony's purchase of railroad land. That deed was in the safe. It details the germinal forest. The deed says,
'Ideal for the growth of human seed pods.'
"

"Why did they put that in the deed?" Sammy asked.

"It was a long time ago when mostly colonists lived here. But if it becomes public knowledge, it could destroy the Colony."

His father said, "Explaining has to be our very last line of defense. You know what I mean, Sammy?"

Sammy knew. He
was
that line.

* * *

Friday came. Rule, the county seat, hosted what seemed like Sammy's entire hometown. The small old courthouse bulged with people. The last large publicized trial had been seven years ago, when a small boy had been kidnapped but, thankfully, found in an old basement unharmed. That trial had filled all the seats on the ground floor. Today the balcony and side aisles were crushed with spectators, several using the event as a school holiday.

The seating arrangement reminded Sammy of a wedding, except instead of the groom's family on one side and the bride's on the other, the rows were divided between the town's people and the Colony, with its relatively large number of "children."

Two stiff-necked gentlemen wearing slick-looking suits sat directly behind the prosecuting attorney. Sammy recognized the pair. They were the same men who cased the town in their fancy car and weaseled their way into City Hall to post notes against the boys from the Colony. One of the men rubbed his hands greedily, while the second smiled wickedly and cast his gaze over the crowded room.

Sammy thought he recognized someone two rows up, but he realized there was far too much hair on the man's head. At that moment the man turned around and gave the lady behind him a friendly wink. It
was
Mr. Lanton; he looked so young! The older lady turned around to smile at Sammy.

"My, God, Mrs. West, it's you! You look so much, much . . . "

"Yes, Sammy, but it won't last; you'll see what I mean someday." She patted his hand and turned to watch the accused enter the room and sit at the defense table.

She knows.
Sammy felt his pulse rise.
Will revealing myself really help these guys? Will it just turn the town against itself, each person questioning who and what their neighbors are? What am I doing?
One of the boys on trial turned to scan the rows of spectators, briefly staring at Sammy.
Does he know? Does he suspect that I plan to tell the court that my own relatives are on trial?

"Stay cool, Sammy, stay cool," Mrs. West whispered.

Butterflies in his gut gave him a cramp. Standing seemed to relieve some of his stress. He shuffled out of the row, went to the back of the courtroom, and rested against the massive double doors. He turned his head and through a narrow slit between the doors he could see people milling about in the foyer.

"All rise," the bailiff announced. All stood as the judge entered. The trial began.

The prosecuting attorney directed attention to the stolen goods found in the defendants' car. He repeatedly referred to the young men as members of the Colony despite the objections of the defense. Finally he called for open witnesses in the court to speak out.

Sammy glanced into the foyer again. A familiar figure moved toward the outside door beyond the courtroom, attempting to leave the building.

Sammy's heart began to pound and suddenly, almost before he realized he was doing it, he yelled, "I want to speak! I have evidence. You said anyone can speak."

The prosecutor smiled, as did the two developers sitting behind him.

Sammy thrust open the heavy doors, pushed through the crowd, grabbed the figure by the wrist, and hauled her into the courtroom. "Get up there!" Sammy demanded. "You owe this town an explanation!" The woman shook her hand free and marched up the aisle toward the judge.

"No one kills my animals and gets away with it!" she yelled.

Her long, green slicker flapped against her legs as she waved two backpacks overhead.

Before the judge could grab his gavel, she shouted, "Maybe I just train them, but to me they're family. Nobody's going to get away with killing my pets." The stunned crowd watched as she reached the table in front of the judge. She threw down the packs and faced the two developers. "Mr. Wade, I'm done with holding your stolen property. All of it! You too, Matters, you sewage-scum, weasel-mouthed dog killers." Raising a bony finger, she pointed at the defendant. "He never stole a thing. I did, and for who?" She stormed the prosecutor. "The only assault was committed by them two crooked, pimple-nosed pukes." She shook her finger at the two developers seated behind the prosecutor. "Any person who'd run down his own dog is not fit to be called human."

The bailiff reached the hysterical woman and grabbed her flailing arms.

"Hold that woman in contempt!" yelled the prosecuting attorney.

"Hold that woman in awe!" yelled someone in the crowd.

The judge banged the gavel. A volley of cries broke the dignity of the court. "Take your stinking development plan elsewhere." "We want real justice!" "Listen to the lady."

Again the judge hammered the bench.

"Here, take this, too!" She wrestled her arm free her and waved an old envelope toward the judge. The bailiff took it and handed it to him, then escorted the woman and the guards out the side door of the courtroom.

"Order!" The judge's voice rose above the outburst.

And just as suddenly, the entire courtroom fell silent. The judge opened the envelope, scanned its contents. Sammy held his breath. The judge lowered his head as if to hide a smile, and Sammy realized he, too, understood.

He picked up the gavel. "Due to the unusual turn of events, I declare the defendants not guilty." Turning to the accused he said, "You are both free to go." Turning to the developer, he said, "I plan to see you later."

A tremendous burst of applause filled the courtroom as the judge left the bench. The two "young" men gave each other a hug, and then turned to join the crowd.

Sammy was stunned. He was safe, the Colony was safe, and the secret was safe. The entire scene moved in slow motion around him. The freed man was coming toward him. An older woman stepped in front of one of the "boys." Sammy recognized her, the woman he first saw unearthed, born to grow youthful. She already looked younger than she had the evening he saw her playing with puzzles in the Colony library. She took the hand of the newly freed young man and pressed it against her cheek, jumping and smiling all the while.

"Thank you, Virginia, you were so good to wait patiently."

Sammy heard a snicker from a teen he'd often seen at school. "Batty old lady, acts like a little kid."

A flush of anger replaced the relief Sammy had just felt. He wanted to blast the teen, cut him down for his ignorance and intolerance. Instead, Sammy turned and congratulated the young man as they both walked through the courthouse entrance to the free air outside.

Leaning against a faithful old car stood Sammy's friend John. Beside him, waving a set of keys, motioning him to hurry over, stood Sammy's cousin.

The Beginning

B
etween the Roots
Copyright © 2010 by A.N. McDermott. All rights reserved. Unauthorized duplication prohibited.

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