Once An Eve Novel

thirty-nine



BY THE FOLLOWING MORNING, THE STORM HAD CLEARED. I took the bridge one step at a time, feeling the thin wood planks give slightly beneath my feet. It was just wider than my shoulders, with ropes strung up on either side; a lightweight thing extended over the lake’s still surface. Joby, one of the School guards, followed behind me. I glanced back every so often at the girls studying on the lawn. Beatrice was standing by the dining hall building, talking to Teacher Agnes.

I imagined what it must’ve been like that day, with the chairs set up on the grass, the podium standing in front of the lake. The Teachers would line up along the shore, toes at the edge of the water, as they had every year before. Who had given the speech, telling the girls about the great promise of their future? Who had led them to the other side? I imagined Pip turning back, waiting for me, certain I would appear at the last possible moment.

When we reached the other shore the ground was still wet. Joby stepped ahead and circled around the building, gesturing me to follow. The two guards on shore pulled the rope to raise the bridge to the other side. We turned the corner and I saw the high windows, the ones I’d peered through the night I’d escaped. The bucket I’d stood on was gone.

“It must be strange to be back here again,” Joby said, her long black hair tucked under the guard’s hat. She met my eyes, as if to acknowledge the last day I’d seen her, in this same place, when Arden was being taken out of the Jeep and I was driven away by Stark.

I nodded, not wanting to risk a response. Before Joby had patted me down on the other side of the bridge, I’d slipped the key under my tongue. Now it sat there, waiting to be delivered to Arden, filling my entire mouth with a strong metallic taste.

She approached the high fenced-in section where they’d taken Arden. Joby opened the first door and led me across the short gravel driveway. We kept going, through the next door and into the grassy yard where I’d seen Ruby. Two stone tables sat outside, but there were no signs of the Graduates. “Wait here,” she said. “She’ll be out in a moment.” Then she disappeared inside the building.

I walked the length of the yard, trying to calm my nerves. Just beyond the fence, by the closed gate, two more guards watched me, their rifles hanging at their sides. I rolled the key in my mouth. I hadn’t slept. Instead, I’d imagined Pip as I’d last seen her, spinning around the lawn, the torches casting a warm glow on her skin. I remembered her teasing me as she stood beside me at the sink or hooting wildly, arms raised in the air, after she’d won a game of horseshoes.

The door swung open and Arden walked out, Joby following close behind. Her eyes were clear as she looked me up and down, taking in my short blue dress, the gold earrings that hung from each ear. My dark hair was brushed back in a bun. “I hope you didn’t get all dolled up just to see me,” she said, her cracked lips letting on just the slightest smile. The green paper gown fell just below her knees.

I looked down at my dress, wishing I was allowed to wear more casual clothing in public. I didn’t speak, but went to her, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her on the cheek. All the while I kept my eye on Joby and the two guards who stood by the closed gate, aware that they were always watching us.

I grabbed her hand and held it up in front of me. I closed my eyes as I kissed her palm, releasing the small key into it. Then I clutched her fist to my chest. “Of course I did.” I laughed.

Arden sat down on the bench. Her hair had grown out, her scalp no longer visible. Her pale arms were covered with tiny circular bruises from all the injections. She kept her fist on the table, palm down, the key clutched inside it. “I’m relieved to see you,” she said. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” Behind her, Joby shifted to get a better view of us.

I shook my head. “I’ve been worried about you, too.” I studied the plastic wristband she wore, covered with numbers. “Are you …?” I didn’t finish the sentence.

“Not yet,” she said. “I don’t think so.” We sat in silence for a moment. I kept nodding, the tears in my eyes, thankful that she wasn’t pregnant.

Joby checked her watch. I touched my fingers to the top of Arden’s hand. “Remember when we used to play by the apple tree in the yard?” I asked, knowing that Arden would remember no such thing. We’d hated each other when we were here together, had made a point of avoiding one another those last few years. But the first nights we’d been in the dugout I’d told her how Teacher Florence had helped me, how I’d gone through a secret door. I wondered if she remembered, or if she’d been too sick to process the details. “We used to play right there, beside the wall. I loved when they let us out on the lawn.”

Arden smiled, a faint laugh escaping her lips. She looked down at our hands, acknowledging the key beneath them. “Yeah, I remember that,” she said.

I looked into her eyes, searching for recognition. She nodded. “I don’t know when my next visit will be,” I added, not looking away. “I have a lot of obligations in the Palace, duties to the King. I wanted to come now, because I might not be back for some time.” My voice trembled as I spoke. “I wanted you to look after Ruby and Pip for me.”

“I understand.” Arden’s eyes were red and wet. She covered my hand with hers, the stone table hot on our skin. “It’s just really good to see you,” she said, nodding. “I didn’t know if I ever would again.” She wiped her face with her gown.

We sat like that for a minute. Above us a flock of birds wheeled in the sky, their tiny bodies scattering, then coming back together, then scattering again. “I’ve missed you,” I said. Arden would be able to get out, I kept telling myself. She’d gotten beyond the School walls once before. She had made it to Califia. If anyone would be able to get out of that brick building, if anyone could help Ruby and Pip escape, she could.

Joby stepped forward, gesturing for Arden to stand. “I’ll bring the others,” she said.

Arden hugged me. Her body felt much smaller beneath mine. With her back turned to Joby she brought her fingers to her mouth and slipped the key inside, like she was popping a sucking candy. Then she smiled, squeezing my hand before she walked away.

I stood there, watching her return to that building, her hands behind her back so Joby could see them. I thought of her subtle smirk as she flattened the key under her palm, as she listened to me speak of the apple tree and the wall beside it. She had understood. I knew she had. But looking around the fenced-in yard, at the guard’s rifles, I wondered how long it would be before she escaped, if the days would pass too quickly. If, soon, she’d be stuck here indefinitely.

The door swung open, the rusty hinges letting out a terrible, screeching sound. Ruby appeared first. Her steps were even, her long black hair secured in a ponytail. “You came back,” she said. She squeezed the breath from my body. Her stomach pressed against mine, the small lump not yet noticeable under her loose green gown. When she pulled back, her eyes were a little sad. “I knew you were still alive. I knew you hadn’t disappeared. I had this memory of you. You were standing right over there, by the gate.” She pointed to the place I’d last seen her, where she’d held onto the fence, staring vacantly beyond me.

“I did,” I said, squeezing Ruby’s arm. Whatever pills they’d given her then no longer had a hold on her. “I saw you that day. It was the day they brought Arden here.”

“I kept telling Pip that I’d seen you.” Ruby nodded. “I kept telling her but she didn’t believe me.”

Pip was walking out of the building, her head down. She kept her hands behind her back. The door banged shut, the sound loud enough that I flinched. She played with the ends of her curly red hair, which had grown so much longer in the months that had passed.

“Pip, I’m here,” I said. She didn’t respond. “I came to see you.” She inched closer. I hugged her, but her body felt like stone. Instead she pulled back, freeing herself from my grip.

She rubbed her arm where I’d touched her. “That hurt,” she said softly. “Everything hurts.”

“Sit down on the bench,” Joby said, guiding Pip by the elbow.

“Why are you wearing that?” Ruby asked, pointing to my dress. “Where have you been?”

My mouth was dry. I didn’t want to tell them the truth—that I’d been living in the City of Sand. That I was the daughter of the same person who had put them here, in this building. The man who had lied to them—to all of us—for so many years. It wasn’t how I wanted things to begin, this short meeting between us. “I was taken to the City of Sand,” I said. “I found out I’m the King’s daughter.”

Pip lifted her head. “You went to the City of Sand without me.” It was a statement, not a question. “You’ve been in the City of Sand this whole time.”

“I know how this must seem,” I said, reaching out for her hand. She pulled it away before I could touch her. “But it’s not like that.” I stopped myself, knowing I couldn’t reveal too much in front of Joby. “I’m here now,” I offered. But it sounded so small, so pathetic, even to me.

Ruby was staring at me. She bit at her nails. “Why are you here?” she asked.

To help you get out, I thought, the words dangerously close to leaving my mouth. Because I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you again. Because I’ve thought of you both every day since I left. “I had to come,” I said instead. “I needed to know you were okay.”

“We’re not,” Pip mumbled. She stared at the table, her finger making idle circles. Her cuticles were bloody and swollen. Her pregnant belly was visible when she sat down, the green gown jutting out around her midsection. “We get to sit out here once a day, for an hour. That’s all.” She lowered her voice, her eyes darting to Joby. “Once a day. The girls who are on bed rest are strapped down. They give us pills sometimes that make it hard to think.”

“They said it won’t be long,” Ruby offered. “They said we’ll be released soon.”

I tried to keep calm, feeling the guards staring at me. The King hadn’t yet decided what would happen to the first generation of girls from the birthing initiative, but I’d heard it would still be years until they were released. I thought of the key that I’d given to Arden. Of the dissidents somewhere below the City, working on the tunnels. Of the rest of the Trail, leading away from the Schools, winding through the wild, to Califia. Arden would get them out. And if she didn’t, if she couldn’t, I would find a way. “Yes, it’s going to be all right.”

“That’s what they say,” Pip continued. “That’s what all the girls keep saying. Maxine and Violet, and the doctors. Everyone thinks it’s going to be all right.” She gave a sad little laugh. “It’s not.”

I watched her as she ran her fingers over the stone table, her knee bouncing up and down. She wasn’t the same person who’d slept in the twin bed beside me all those years, who had done handstands on the lawn, who I sometimes caught humming to herself as she dressed, stepping to the side, then back, in a secret solitary dance. “Pip, you have to believe that,” I tried. “It will be.”

“Let’s get you two back inside,” Joby said, stepping forward. Pip kept staring at the table.

“Pip?” I asked, waiting until her gaze finally met mine. Her skin was pale, her freckles faded from so many hours indoors. “I promise everything is going to be okay.” I wanted to go on, but they were already getting up, their hands crossed at the wrists behind them, ready to go inside.

“Will you come back?” Ruby asked, turning to me.

“I’ll try my best.”

Pip slipped inside the building without saying goodbye. Ruby followed after, glancing over her shoulder one final time. Then they were gone, the door falling shut behind them, the hollow click of the lock stiffening my spine.