Authors: Miriam Bell
“I was so worried. None of the scouts came back yesterday. I didn’t know what to do. I tried talking to your dad but he kept telling me I had to wait- that everything was fine.”
She seems to be having a problem forming the words fast enough to tell me all the things in her mind.
“It’s ok. Take a breathe kid- I’m here now,” I say giving her another hug.
Tessa gathers all her strength into her embrace- giggling when I make a noise of protest.
“How was it out there, Millie?” she asks, pulling away.
Her sharp eyes search my face. I know she is distinguishing my complete and utter exhaustion- maybe even a little of my longing for safety.
“Let’s just say I’m happy to be back and as soon as I can talk to whomever I need to- you’re gonna move in with me.”
I brush a few strands of hair off her dirty face. She smiles brightly.
“That’s the best news I’ve had in awhile.”
She bounces a little on the balls of her feet- excited.
I still have my knees on the ground, looking at her when something catches her attention. Confusion flashes across them until her expression becomes unreadable. A breeze catches her hair as her face pales and her whole body begins to shake.
“Tessa? Are you okay?” I ask, letting concern lace my voice.
I’m surprised when her eyes start to water- moisture building up only to escape over the edge of her hazel eyes. Her tears slowly fall one by one- down her cheeks, cleaning her dirty skin. She whispers so soft I can barely hear her. I lean in.
“What Tessa? What did you say?”
My hands grip her shoulders and it’s like I’m the only thing keeping her upright. Dread takes over every section of my body.
What now?
What else could possibly be wrong. Tessa’s shock filled expression peers back to me. Her eyes are glassy and wide, her voice cracking on the one word- the name.
“Clover.”
Startled, I look behind us, turning around so fast that I almost fall over and bring Tessa with me. Clover and Connor are in conversation together, walking our way. They follow Mr. Herdon through the tall grass toward the prison. I can almost hear Connor’s words. He’s telling her something about Chevy needing food. She laughs at one of his comments and gently pulls on Chevy’s ear.
“He doesn’t eat that much,” she responds, smiling as the puppy nips at her fingers.
“Clover,” Tessa says her name a little louder like she is testing the sound on her lips.
I turn back to her trying to process this new realization I’ve uncovered.
With my head spinning, I yell, “Connor!”
My voice must sound as if I’m in pain because his head snaps up searching. Beside me, Tessa’s sharp intake of breath at hearing his name brings an end to her fragile state. She begins to sob, clutching on to me as if I’m the air she needs to breathe. I’m surprised at the light tears flowing down my cheeks, as the truth settles.
Clover’s sister. Tessa is her sister.
The heaviness of that statement feels right when I repeat it back in my brain. I consider Tessa’s characteristics. I see it now- their matching small frames and similar facial features.
I let Tessa bury her young face in my neck and feel her tears wetting my skin as I attempt to reconcile her emotions. I gently sway letting the movement soothe her just like it always does. Glancing back toward Connor and Clover, I find them running toward me.
“What is it? You okay?” Connor asks.
His eyes search over my body accessing for injuries. He comes to a stop beside me, standing over me with such strength. With the sun behind him casting shadows, I can’t read the expression on his face. Clover is right behind her cousin in an instant.
“Millie?”
I detect the concern in her voice.
Unguarded tears continue to silently slip down my cheeks. I can’t hold back the smile surfacing on my lips. My hand lays gently over Tessa wanting to comfort her- sobs still shake her body. I whisper in her ear.
“They found you.”
A tiny snivel covered laugh bubbles up inside her. I feel her nod, her head laying flushed to the skin of my neck- her fingers clutching me close. After moments of silence she begins to release me, leaving the space around me empty. The breeze drifts by as she slowly rights herself.
My voice shakes with astonishment as I say, “I believe you two have already met my friend, Tessa.”
I reach up and tuck her blond hair behind one ear. Her flushed face is pitched in an effort not to cry- her cheeks shiney from the tears.
“Tessa?” Clover’s shocked voice calls out. “Tessa?” she repeats.
I watch recognition flash in her eyes as she is able to process everything in that moment- her hair, eyes, older but familiar face.
“Oh my God! Tessa!” she shouts, her arms reach out as if she is a small child grabbing for a favorite toy.
She’s so quick, I swear she moves in a blur. Clover collapses on the ground before Tessa- her hands grabbing hold of her sister. After a long moment, her fingers lightly touch the skin of Tessa’s wet face- looking lovingly up at her.
“It’s really you?” she whispers with her tears falling quietly.
A smile breaks out across Tessa’s face as she launches her whole being at her sister.
“Clover! I never thought I would see you again.”
My eyes connect to those of Clover’s as she embraces her lost sister. I never thought so many emotions could reflex in such a young girl’s eyes, amazement, longing, excitement, joy, regret, but most of all, love- an all consuming love for a person once lost but found.
They’re a picture of pure happiness with arms wrapped around each other, hair tangling together and laughing so loud that my heart warms and I can’t help but join in with them. I glance behind me expecting Connor to be overflowing with joy but he isn’t. Instead, his beautiful face is concealed. I stand quickly letting my feet swallow the distance between us.
Connor is kneeling in the tall grass only a few yards away. His body rocks back and forth as his hands cradle his head. He hides from me what I find myself longing to see- his eyes. As annoyed as I have been with him since we met, as much as he wounded me by walking away in Tom’s house, I can’t stop myself from going to him and falling beside him in the dying grass. My hands lightly touch his back. I let my fingers run up the length of his spine and stop at the base of his neck. He shivers at my touch but stops his continuous rocking.
“Connor?” I whisper, as I lean my face down to his. “Is everything okay?”
I let my fingers touch the softness of his hair- stroking each strand lightly. I know I shouldn’t take advantage of this opportunity to touch him, but I do. I lack the control to stop myself. Connor un-cradles his head looking up toward Clover and Tessa. He allows me to continue touching him or maybe he doesn’t feel it at all. I can’t be sure. I sit for a moment observing Connor watching his cousins.
They are no longer in each other’s embrace but instead sitting close together, immersed in their own little world. My heart lightens at the sight. I don’t know the whole story of what happened to Tessa and Clover but seeing them find each other starts to stitch the seams of my broken heart.
Chevy runs up to the sisters throwing his body in between them demanding to be petted. Tessa giggles and proceeds to run her hands along the puppy’s neck.
Clover says loud enough to hear, “This is Chevy and he is spoiled.”
The puppy ignores all claims and sneaks a sloppy lick to Clover’s nose. She squeals and the laughter begins a new.
“He’s so cute,” Tessa says as she wipes at her eyes.
I turn back to Connor still sitting speechless and watch as an unhurried smile spreads across his lips. When he finally looks at me, a new expression appears on his face which I’ve never seen before. For a moment, I’m baffled attempting to interpret the emotion. His callus hand reaches for mine, lifting it. Shocked, all I can do is follow the movement of him bringing my hand to his mouth. His breath tickles the tiny hairs of my skin. Slowly without breaking eye contact with me, he gently kisses the tender flesh of my wrist. I try not to focus on the softness of his lips or their firm pressure.
“Thank you, Millie.”
Connor’s voice is smooth like velvet, causing my insides to melt.
I force myself to picture him walking out of Tom’s childhood home and the overwhelming anger I felt, anything to stop the intense feelings consuming me. The anger doesn’t emerge.
I’m screwed
. I remain silent wanting to keep my emotions in check. My heart is so loud in my chest I’m sure the sound could cause an untamed animal to flee. Lightly placing my hand back on my knee, Connor stands.
The breeze ruffles his hair as wickedness replaces the gentleness of before. Soon a laugh I’ve never heard from Tessa echoes off the prison walls as she is lifted effortlessly by Connor and spinned around in his arms. The spectacle they create causes most of the people working at their chores to smile. Many of their faces, I recognize from this distance. Evie, a young woman who spends most of her time in the cafeteria, stands excitedly with a huge grin on her face. Marcus, a man I know little about, huffs and continues to pull weeds from a small garden. Mr. Herdon’s deep laughter sounds behind me.
“That’s wonderful. I’m glad when there’s a happy ending,” he says as he walks past me clearing his throat and brushing away an escaped tear. “Okay y’all, how about I show you where y’all will be staying- you too, Tessa.”
Mr. Herdon continues to walk past them, making his way toward the prison. With her tiny arms clutched around Connor’s neck, he carries Tessa lovingly- every once in awhile acting as if he is about to drop her. Clover laughs and calls out for Chevy.
I watch silently as they walk among the tall grass to one of the many prison doors. People stop everything to stare at them as they go. I don’t blame them, I would have too. As they vanish into their new home a chilled breeze sweeps across my wet cheeks. I realize I’m all alone. The tall grass stirs in waves drawing my attention. Suddenly, the prison seems a lot colder than I remembered it being. The very field that I’m sitting in once seemed so large but now has become a shadow of it’s former self.
A memory races to the front of my mind. I try to push the images back but it is too late. The image of Tom with a bag slung over his shoulder flashes across my eyes- the day that I’m to enter the red zone for the first time. Tom walked beside me as we made our way down to the gate. The tall grass hindered my steps but I don't mind so much- I was going into the red zone, my mother’s favorite place. Excited energy bounced off of my skin.
“Well today kid is the day you become useful,” Tom snickered beside me.
“You know I do chores like everyone else.” I said, wishing not to be annoyed.
He let out a loud laugh.
“Oh, please. That doesn’t count.” His hand smoothed over his long white beard. “It only counts if there is no net to catch you.”
I considered this for a moment.
“A net doesn’t grace the floor of the infirmary. If I screw up, someone could die.”
I slowed my pace so Tom wouldn’t lag too far behind.
“When was the last time you treated one of these pansies who didn’t need only a bandaid?” he asked.
I thought back to every time someone who cut their finger came into the infirmary.
“That isn’t the point old man,” I said.
I have to make myself slow down, turn and face him.
“Sure, it is Millie,” he said at his steady pace. “It’s important to know medical stuff and how to get your own food.” He waved his hand in the air in a nonchalant way. “The thing I’m trying to say here is. Can you perform when you need to? Can you finish a task under pressure? Can you survive? If you can, you’re useful.”
He caught up to me and I turned back to walk beside him.
“Sometimes you make no sense.” I said quietly.
“Your mom used to say the same thing to me. Then she would tug on my beard, giggle and take off to wherever she wanted to go. Usually, she ran to the library where your dad spent most of his time.”
Tom didn’t talk too much about my mother so I matched my pace with his hoping he would continue. I’ve always struggled with myself when it came to my mother. I wanted to know about her like any child would who didn’t grow up with a mother but no one offered any information. If I developed enough nerve to ask anyone I would instead end up hearing other things- horror stories of pain and suffering. I stopped asking when I figured out the knowledge wasn’t worth the endless dodging and no matter how much I wanted to I could never build up the courage to ask Dad. No, Tom was the only one who would give me the little glimpses of my mother I craved so badly.
“I think your mom’s heart was too soft for the red zone. Sure she kept going out on missions with us- scouting out department stores and so on. I don’t think she liked being away from your dad for too long though.”
I stiffened.
“My mom wasn’t weak,” I said, defending my pretend version of her I had crafted in my mind.
“I didn’t say she was, girl. I said she was soft and soft can get you killed.”
I stopped in my tracks.