Chapter Four: Aren't You Curious
Copyright © by J. Faith Kenney
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
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My eyes slowly open to the morning sun. Panic fills my veins and I sit up quickly, not sure where I am. CLINK! The noise comes from outside the room, and my heart beats faster as my attention turns to the door, which is about a foot open. I look around again and take in the room and the bed I am on. Right, at Zac’s apartment.
A relieved smile curls my lips as I get up and head toward the kitchen. Zac has his back to me, facing the stove as he hums to himself while making breakfast. The kitchen is modern with wood panels, and the fridge door matches the cupboards. The main counter space is the island that separates the living room from the kitchen. The countertops are black, gray, and white marble.
I pull out a high wooden chair on the opposite side of the island from the appliances. Zac turns to look at me and smiles before turning back to the stove and shutting off the heat.
“Good morning,” says Zac, placing the hot pan of eggs on an oven mitt in front of me.
“Good morning. Um, whose room”—pointing at the bedroom door—“well, bed did I wake up in?”
“Mine, you fell asleep when I was getting you a change of clothes for bed. I wasn’t going to wake you. You looked so peaceful sleeping.”
“Sorry about that. I’ve never actually slept in a real bed before. It has always been on cots, or the floor.”
He grabs two plates from the cupboard and dishes out the scrambled eggs. “Don’t be sorry. You are a Caretender who needs sleep and now food.” He hands one of the plates to me, and I take it with a little thank you nod.
As soon as the plate is down and the fork Zac gives me is in my hand, I dive in. Zac takes a seat next to me, taking a small bite of his eggs.
“Yesterday you said you have an older sister. Do you know her now?” he asks sincerely.
“No, all I know she is four years older than me, making her twenty-four right now. I have no clue what she looks like, if she is married or not, or what’s her tender.” My voice low but steady with underlying pain. My throat becomes tighter, and I take another bite, hoping it will stop it.
Zac is quiet, playing with his breakfast, and the silence sets in. After a long few minutes he speaks. “I can help you find her if you want,” he states low, almost a whisper.
“What?” almost choking on my last bite of eggs as I snap to face him, but he stares down at his plate, not looking at me. “Zac, no. Thanks for offering but no, I don’t want to find her. Besides, she doesn’t want to see me, and as far as I know she thinks I am dead. That is the way I want to keep it, with her thinking I am.”
He turns his head to face me. “You are not just-”
“No,” I interrupt harshly. “I am not curious about what she is doing, nor do I want to see her.” My voice calmer. “Zac, please drop it, and never bring it up again,” I plead to him.
He nods. “Fine, I will drop it. I've been thinking though, since last night, and the reason I brought your sister up”—I eye him, but he continues—“the reason was because I haven’t seen my father in so long and now I have a chance to.”
“What do you mean?”
Zac looks me dead in the eyes like a child making a firm choice. “I want to see him, Thela.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, not believing a word he just said.
He nods. “Yeah, I am sure. If you got the chance to see your biological parents, would you?”
“I-I don’t know. I have learned things and reasons for why they did it.” I pause, thinking of the possibility of seeing them, but the screams from when I was little ring through my ears. “Probably not,” I say, barely audibly. “Are you sure you want to see him?”
“I just want to see him, not to talk to him. I just want to see if he has changed or if he is the same man. To see if he has those same cold eyes hating the world.” Zac’s words slow.
I nod, turning back to my empty plate. Zac finishes up his breakfast in silence.
. . .
Zac drives us to the Shelter. It is a cloudy day, and it starts to sprinkle as he pulls up to The Helping Care Shelter parking lot. He takes a deep breath in and lets it out before laying his hand over mine and looking me in the eyes. His face fills with worry to the bone, and an unnatural white tints his skin.
“I am nervous, Thela. Part of me wants to turn around and just go to work, and another part of me is screaming to take a look. I am more nervous doing this than my first day as a Protecttender.”
“It’s your father, that is why. You’re scared of what the answer might be by looking at him.”
“Is he still a drinker?”
I pause and my eyes leave his. “I don’t know.”
He nods, turning his head to look at the entrance of the hospital. He takes a few moments to breathe before nodding to go inside. Every step takes longer than it should, and the time it takes us to reach the assessment board is about double. I clock in before turning to Zac, but he only nods for me to continue.
With a few more steps around the corner, we are at Adam Taylor’s room. He is asleep, his heart going at a steady rate. He would almost look peaceful and kind to someone who doesn’t know the truth. I look up to Zac. His face slack with fear, as it was as a child. At the sight of his dad, it’s the same exact face I saw in his memory. His hazel eyes lost in a haze as they become glossy. All he can do is stare, forgetting the world, or not aware of it anymore.
Lightly, I reach out to touch his hand. Zac looks at me, breaking out of his trance, and gives my hand a slight squeeze. He puts a weak smile on his face to convince me he is alright, but I don’t believe it. Nodding my head, I return the smile with my own smile— everything is going to be okay. Zac turns back to his father for only a few seconds before turning to walk away. He still holds my hand tightly for support, or stability, or both.
“He still looks the same to me,” Zac says as we reach the entrance of the hospital. “He still, even after all these years, makes the hair on my neck stand up with fear that he is going to beat me. Thela, can you do me a favor?”
“Yeah.”
He pauses and looks to the ground, releasing a sigh of pain that I know all too well. It is a pain that will never go away. The holes in our hearts that will never heal. “Don’t tell him that I was here, or that you know me.” I nod. “And another thing, please do the best you can to keep him alive.”
“I will. Do you want to know why he is here?” I ask.
“No, I don’t want to know.” I nod, respecting his wishes. “See you later, Thela.”
“See you later. Same time tonight to pick me up?”
He nods with a small smile to cover up his pain, his fear, and turns to leave. Beep, beep. A simple code for a talk in Tess’s room. I look down to my watch: 10:32 a.m.
Softly, I knock on Tess’s door frame with a smile before entering. Lucas jumps to his feet from the chair but doesn’t leave the room. He only looks around nervously, then looks at Tess, and only Tess, with a small but hopeful smile.
“What’s up, Tess?”
“Today I am feeling good.” Her smile spreads wider with excitement. “You told me a couple of months ago to page you if I have a good day, and today is one of those days.”
Tess’s color is not as sickly pale. She still looks sick, but a little bit better than the day before, and a little bit is better than none. “No headache, no aches at all, no shakes?” I ask with happiness.
She nods her head. “I tried something I haven’t done for a while.” She looks at Lucas with a smile. “It made me feel whole again, but still weak.”
“What did you do?” My excitement takes over my voice at this improvement. A sign Tess can get better.
“I-I thought of memories, and I had good company.”
“Thought of memories?” I whisper to myself with confusion. Memories are not a cure for any illness. She visited memories because she is a Neuroner. It made her feel better, but why? “Okay, whatever helps.” My voice back to normal. “If it makes you feel better and even look better, do it, but I am going to keep you on the medicine. Thanks for telling me.” Smiling to her before leaving.
She nods with a bright smile.
Why did visiting a memory make her feel better? How is it possible that it might cure her? Stop! Don’t rely on the memories to cure her. But if they work, they work.
A Caretender taps me on the shoulder and hands me a piece of folded paper. I nod, thanking her, still lost in my own thoughts for Tess. Slowly, I unfold the paper, and my heart stops as my mind goes completely blank. On the piece of paper is a photograph of a blue house. Not just any blue house, the house I lived in with my family in the middle of the country. Under the picture is a simple fear striking message in the same handwriting as before.
You had a teddy bear and a blanket. Those were the only things that mattered to you because you’re a Dangerous Neuroner. FIND ME OR ELSE THAT THREAT STILL GOES INTO PLAY.
My heart beats faster in my chest, and it feels like everything and everyone is spinning out of control. My vision becomes blurry, and my breathing picks up speed. Before anyone else can notice me, I rush out of the hospital into the Caretender tent to a far cot away from people. Shoving the note into my scrubs pocket before looking down to the ground, unable to control my breaths. Panic and fear clouds every thought, and I try to only focus on my breaths.
My breaths start to calm down, but the panicky fear is still too high. Lying down and closing my eyes, I focus on my heartbeat, but my thoughts are too wild to be shut down. I don’t know who you are, and if you know what I am, then why don’t you turn me in for the money or fame or whatever? Anything would be better than this.
The fear of not knowing.
🧠
The day is nice and sunny with a light breeze in the country air. The memory focuses on my life in the blue house before I went to the orphanage. On the porch that wraps around the house are my parents watching my younger self and Lily playing with a Frisbee.
Lily has brown hair, brown eyes, and she looked so much like our mother when she was younger. Lily got my dad’s brown hair; I got my mom’s dark auburn hair.
Laughter fills the air as Lily tackles my younger self. Everyone, my parents, Lily, and the younger me looks so happy, like a normal family. Tears start to build up as I barely remember this day. No one would have guessed that in a couple of months they would abandon me.
My vision blurs with tears as the memory starts to fade away into a new one. The feeling of this one is dark, matching the sky, as I stand in the blue house right by the door.
To the right is the kitchen, and to the left is the living room. The couch separates the living room from the rest of the house, and all I can see is the back of it. A small television hangs on the wall in front of the couch, and there are different knickknacks on the shelves. Straight in front of me are narrow, light wooden stairs. Beside the stairs lies a narrow hallway, which leads down to the back door and where my parents’ bedroom is—was.
The house is dead silent, and no one is in the room with me. A chill goes down my spine, causing my hair to rise. A new memory of mine, and it is not good.
The back door opens, banging into the wall. Lily runs in holding her arm, tears staining her younger checks, with the younger me trailing behind her.
“MOM!” cries Lily, stopping to stand at the foot of the stairs.
“Please, I didn’t mean to. Lily, please, I am sorry,” pleads the younger me, but Lily pays no attention.
“MOM!”
A beautiful woman comes in from the kitchen, looking younger than her real age. Her dark, curly auburn hair with beautiful waves matches her brown eyes. Her smile is light with her pink rosy lips. Bags are under her eyes from lack of sleep due to taking care of me and Lily. Her height is short, only five feet like me. Mom.
“What is wrong?” she asks as she bends down beside Lily.
“Monster, she’s a monster!” Lily wails as she points to me, well, my younger self.
“I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know what hap-” the younger me tries to explain myself, but Lily cuts me off.
“I want her gone.” She is still pointing to the younger me. “Just like we discussed. She should be with someone else. Not in this family, not in anyone’s family! She is a Neuroner and should have an owner, not a family.” Lily says, anger rising in her voice.
The younger me starts to cry harder before running up the stairs. It feels like the wind has been knocked out of me as my own tears slowly stream down my face.
I want to get out of this memory. They talked about giving me up before. They planned it. Lily had the final word if I stayed or died in the woods, even though she was so young. Instead of wanting a sister, she chose for me to die in the woods.
The next day was the day they left me in the woods all alone to die. This was the day they decided they didn’t want me, and the day after was the day they acted on that. All of this was done because I am a Neuroner, and they planned the whole thing.
Everything around me blurs, and all I can see and hear is Lily pointing at me and her saying, “Monster! Monster! She should be with someone else. Not in this family, not anyone’s family. Monster!”
It feels like I am getting pushed around, and everywhere I turn, Lily is there calling me a monster that doesn’t belong in a family. My breaths became heavy, and for what feels like hours, my body shakes.
🧠
I sit up quickly on the cot, my breaths coming in waves. My throat is tight and holding back a scream as I look down to the ground with blurry vision. My hand goes over my mouth to muffle my sobs from learning the truth, and how it still hurts even after fifteen years.
Lily had the final say. They did want me to die because I am a Neuroner and dangerous to them. What did I do to Lily to make her finally decide? I don’t remember. I didn’t remember that memory or knew that memory existed until now.
I stay on the cot, sobbing quietly, not wanting to move or even to feel the pain of betrayal I am feeling.