Becoming Calder

CHAPTER FOUR


Calder



The small amount of water at the bottom of the jugs on my shoulders sloshed as I made my way down the steep slope. I usually carried smaller containers in a pack, but today I needed extra. Helen Whitney was in labor and the midwives required plenty of the holy water in the birthing tent to assist in a healthy delivery.
I walked as fast as possible, lost in my own thoughts. It was a peace I craved, to be away from the others for just a little while. These days, I constantly longed to be away from the incessant noise of Acadia, away from my parents who were always discussing Hector's sermons late into the night. And most of all, away from those tiny two rooms of our family cabin that I had outgrown? literally and figuratively, years before.
This was my seventeenth year. I'd be eighteen soon and it was almost time for my water purification ceremony. I didn't know if it would happen right on my birthday or not since Hector was gone on another pilgrimage. If he wasn't back by then, it would have to wait until he returned.
Being purified meant I'd be washed clean of all my childhood sins and officially be part of the Temple. I would be responsible for my own choices, and I'd reap the consequences if I sinned.
As I walked, I considered what that was going to mean. First of all, it meant no more enjoying the benefits of Xander's trips to the ranger's station. This in turn, meant no more Coca-Cola for me when and if he brought it back—which, for the salvation of his own soul, I hoped he wouldn't. He would be eighteen in a couple months, too.
I groaned in despair. The Coca-Cola was going to be the worst of it.
It could be argued I was employing a loophole by acting like it was okay to sin at all when I knew it was a sin, "child" or not. Still, that washed clean part of the deal made it really tempting to get as much good stuff in while I still could. Yeah, I knew it wasn't supposed to work that way, but I was still only human after all.
My mom told me I had a wicked way of justifying things in my own favor, which I admitted was probably true. It was just that life seemed so full of so many pleasures. I wondered why every single one of them had to be sins. I couldn't help but to picture the gods in Elysium with pinched faces and constant displeased expressions, which didn't make it seem all that great if I was honest. But I supposed there was no way I'd be disappointed in Elysium. After all, it was paradise.
My dad said we just had to prove ourselves here, with all the temptations the gods put in front of us, and the rewards for our sacrifice would shower down on us in the after life. Although there probably wouldn't be Coca-Cola in Elysium, and that was a truly depressing thought.
So I needed to stop thinking about Coca-Cola. And I really needed to stop thinking about sex. My body tightened at the thought of the word alone—which spoke for itself as far as how much I needed that purification. I didn't know if the ceremony itself would help redirect my thoughts somewhere more appropriate, somewhere more befitting of a council member, but I sure hoped so.
I had been working on my irrigation system for over two years now, and I was pretty sure it would work as I'd planned it to and using only the materials available to us from the land. I also hoped fervently it was what would convince Hector I deserved a place on the council, and I'd be able to go out into the big community and work like some of the other members did.
Hector said we should use only the tools and materials from the land the gods had bestowed upon us, rather than the wicked instruments of society, where laws and rules were all based on greed, sin, and selfishness. It pleased the gods that workers only used that which was provided by them. It made us a holier people.
I couldn't help but wonder, though, why so many of those tools and instruments seemed to be in use up at the main lodge. I watched my own mother scrub our clothes down at the river on a flat river rock, and from what Maya told me, there was a big machine that did the job up at the main lodge—just toss a whole bunch of clothes in there, push a button, and they all came out shiny and clean, she'd said. I figured Maya was exaggerating, but it couldn't be denied that life was a lot easier for Hector and the council members.
I tried not to think about it too much because a sinful feeling of anger, and way more questions than I wanted to consider, would bubble up inside of me, and I knew that was wrong.
I made it to the spring and set the water vessels down on the grass. I noticed immediately that the plants and brush had been moved aside and the crack in the rock that led to the larger spring was visible.
I had been back there a few times over the years, but I knew Eden hadn't been. Her toys sat unmoved and the few times I went in, there was no sign of any human disturbance at all.
I made my way through the rocks and open areas until the spring was in view, and it was then I saw her. Her back was to me and she was facing the large rock sitting at the back edge of the spring. Her hands were fisted at her sides and a glorious spill of pale blonde waves cascaded down her back, covering most of her. But her legs were bare, as were her shoulders and I blinked at her nakedness. With her back to me, I allowed my eyes to move slowly down her body—her delicate shoulders to her narrow waist, to her hips that rounded so very slightly, down her slim legs and back up again. My body stirred, tightened, and blood pounded in my ears. I swallowed heavily, unable to move, rooted to my spot as I watched her.
She, Eden, put her hands on her hips and made a strangled, angry sound. I leaned in farther to get a better view of what she was so angry about and I saw the small snake sun bathing on the rock, just like he owned the place. Apparently, Eden wanted him gone and hoped her sounds of anger would compel him to move along. I almost laughed, but got a hold of myself before I made a sound and gave myself away.
Eden fisted her hands down by her sides again and then stood still for a good minute, seeming to be trying to decide what to do. I waited, enchanted by her; there was no other word for it. I startled slightly as she suddenly darted out into the water and waded across the shallow pool, only up to her shoulders. It was the only way across as large rocks sat on either side of the small spring. The only rock accessible was the one that snake was currently occupying. Eden emerged from the water and marched up the very small shore next to the rock. She climbed up on that rock as I watched, spell bound, grabbed that snake and flung it into the foliage beyond. She then brushed her hands off and plunked herself down, having evicted said snake with a swiftness I sure didn't see coming.
I couldn't help it then. I started laughing out loud. I didn't think I'd ever seen a spectacle quite like that one before.
When I finally opened my eyes and got control of my laughter, I looked up and Eden was sitting there in nothing but her wet undergarments, staring at me with wide eyes and her lips parted in that same O shape they had been in when she had seen me talking to Hannah Jacobson.
I went serious, now in control of the initial lust that had swept over me at the sight of her. As I stared at her, a strange feeling gripped me, almost like a sort of déjà vu, as if this moment was a memory—not one that was in my mind, but in my blood, in the very fiber of who I was. It felt like some sort of recollection, or maybe a vision. Or perhaps a misty, long-forgotten dream coming true.
"Hi, Morning Glory," I finally managed.
She just stared at me for several beats before she sat up straighter and said, "Hi, Butterscotch."
I cleared my throat, as Eden seemed to remember she was half-naked and covered herself with her arms. "Will you . . . will you," she pointed to her clothes discarded on the grass next to the spring, "bring me those?"
I went over and gathered them up and waded through the spring, only up to my chest and handed her clothes to her as I pulled myself up on the rock. She put them on quickly as I looked away. When I looked back, she was doing the last of the buttons up the front of her shirt, and I saw her hands were shaking.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
Her eyes darted to mine and her cheeks turned a beautiful shade of pink. "I . . . I hate snakes," she said, her lips quivering now. "Like, really, really hate them."
I stared at her for a couple seconds. "Sure didn't seem like it to me. I don't think it seemed like it to that snake either." I grinned at her.
She let out a big breath and smiled timidly back at me.
I had been half right. Her eyes were the color of a deep blue morning glory. Only up close I saw gold flecks along the outer rim. They were the color of a blue morning glory, bathed in sparkling, early morning sunlight.
She looked down at her lap and said quietly, "It's just I haven't been here in a while, and I was really looking forward to it. It's all I wanted. Just to swim across the spring and sit on this very rock, the only one in the sun. And then I saw that snake, and I . . . I never get what I want." Her eyes flew to mine again. "And I know that's selfish. I shouldn't just think of myself. I just . . . it made me so angry . . ." she trailed off.
"I understand," I said, taking her hand in mine. Something raced across the inside of my skin when our hands touched and I pulled away quickly.
Our eyes met again, and Eden blurted out, "I've kept every single morning glory. All forty-six of them."
I grinned. "I've eaten every single butterscotch candy. All . . . well, I lost count, but all of them." I grinned bigger and so did she.
She turned toward me more fully. "How do you get them in my room?" she asked, her eyes wide.
I laid back on the large rock and laced my fingers behind my head. I was soaking wet, but the sun was shining, and I'd be dry soon enough.
I squinted up at Eden above me, closing one eye against the sun. She had turned and was looking down at me, waiting for my answer.
"My sister delivers things. I send them with her when she has a delivery up at the main lodge."
Eden nodded her head vigorously. "Yes. The little girl who . . ." She paused and I tensed, waiting for her to make note of Maya's mental state.
"Sews so beautifully."
I relaxed and smiled, nodding. "Yes, that's her."
Eden smiled and tilted her head. "Well, now I'm going to have to deliver two butterscotch candies. I didn't know you had an employee." She smiled at me and I chuckled. God, she was so pretty. She dazzled me with her pale blonde hair and those big, dark blue eyes that seemed to have a whole world behind them—a world I suddenly wanted to know, to explore.
"How old are you, Eden?" I asked. "Hector never mentioned . . ."
"I'm sixteen."
I was surprised. She looked younger and I had always assumed she was. To me, her age was directly linked to the foretelling of those great floods. I nodded, doing the math and suddenly feeling more anxious than I had before. I moved that aside.
"Can I see it?" I finally asked.
"It?" she said, a look of confusion on her face.
"The mark."
"Oh, yes, the mark." She hesitated for a brief second, but then turned around and moved her hair away from her left shoulder and brought her blouse down to bare it.
I moved closer and squinted my eyes to see what looked like a smallish birthmark near her shoulder blade that was supposed to be an eclipse.
"And the moon shall move in front of the sun, as the waters rise and cover the earth," I whispered, quoting from Hector's Holy Book.
I felt Eden shiver slightly as I traced the mark on her back. I guessed it did look like an eclipse, as much as any birthmark could.
Eden pulled her shirt back up and turned toward me again.
She suddenly looked shy and I wondered what she was thinking. I watched her, waiting to see if she'd tell me.
She smiled a small smile. "In the church I went to before I came here, I think there was a story about the first man and woman in a place I imagine to look like this one." She waved her arm around at the towering rocks and the spring right in front of us, glistening in the sunlight. Her smile widened. "There was even a snake!" She laughed and I couldn't help smiling, too.
"I remember it because my name was in it somehow . . ." She gazed off as if trying to remember.
I tilted my head, squinting again. "Tell me more."
Her smile disappeared. "Well, I wish I could remember more of the story. I don't think it ended too well for them." She looked up, considering. "Or maybe it was the rest of the people who didn't fare so well."
"No, I mean, tell me about the place you lived before this. Tell me about your house, and your car, and the city you lived in."
Sadness altered her expression. "I don't remember much, feelings mostly. The pictures in my mind are so blurry. And it's like, when I try to remember them, my head starts hurting." She rubbed her palm over her forehead as if it was hurting now, looking off in the distance behind me.
I studied her for a minute, wanting to ask her more questions, but also wanting that far-off look of sadness to disappear from her eyes.
Suddenly she looked back at me. "Will you tell me what you're building down by the river in your free time?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Have you been watching me, Morning Glory?" I grinned, but her eyes widened and she looked down, as if she'd just been caught. I laughed. "Eden, I'm kidding. Is it okay if I call you Eden?"
She looked up at me and laughed a small laugh, too, but then went serious. "Yes, of course." She looked down and then back up at me. "And I do watch you sometimes," she whispered and then looked away. "I'm sorry. It's very rude . . . how much I . . . watch you."
My heart did something strange in my chest and I just stared at her for a minute. This beautiful, quiet girl—the blessed one—had been watching me? I didn't know what to say to her, so I opted for simply explaining my project. I cleared my throat. "Uh, I'm building an irrigation system. All this carting water in jugs and containers seems really . . . time consuming when there could be an easier way." I sat up. "I actually read about it in a fiction book I can't remember the name of now. I mean, you know, before Hector banned fictional books. But it's not like it came with directions or anything, so it's a matter of figuring it out. I think I've got it though. And if it works, it could water all the crops in about half the time. I'm hoping it will mean a spot on the council for me."
Eden looked surprised. "You want to be on the council?"
"Yeah. I want to go out into the community and work."
Eden nodded. "What kind of work?"
"I don't know. From what I hear, the council members work in businesses all over—I'm sure Hector or one of them could find a place for me, you know, if I prove myself."
"So you'd live up at the main lodge?"
I nodded. "That's the plan."
Eden's eyes widened and she glanced down at my mouth as if she was thinking about kissing me. I looked away. Even I had more sense than that.
I stood up and Eden jolted slightly. "I better go. I'm expected back with some holy water."
"Oh, okay," she said, standing up, too. "I'm here every day from noon to two." She shrugged, looking embarrassed. "You know, if you ever want to have lunch here instead of with your friends . . . or, I mean, not that you would, but . . . if you did, or . . ." She shook her head, laughing softly. "Why would you?"
That strange feeling came into my chest again. "I'd be honored to have lunch with Hector's princess."
Her face seemed to fall slightly, but she caught herself and smiled. "Okay," she whispered.
I studied her for a second again. "Speaking of Hector, this probably wouldn't be okay with him, you know," I said.
"I know," she replied, and I couldn't read the expression on her face now.
I paused, knowing I should tell her I wasn't going to be back, but somehow, not being able to. Being in her presence after all this time felt so good, and it seemed the idea of spending time with me brought her happiness, too. "Goodbye for now, then." I smiled and turned and made my way back to the spring where I gathered the water needed at the birthing tent.
I was too late. When I got back, Helen Whitney was holding a healthy baby boy.