Parable of the Talents

going with this, not really wanting to hear it It had a nasty enough sound when I heard it in my own head.

'I wanted to die when Daddy killed my baby. I wished he had killed me too.' She paused. 'Jill kept me going—kind of like back at Camp Christian, you kept me going.' An­other pause, longer this time. 'Lauren, you might never find her.'

I didn't say anything, didn't move.

'She might be dead.'

After a while, I turned to look at her. She was staring at me, looking sad.

“I'm sorry,' she said. 'But it's true. And even if she's alive, you might never find her.'

'You knew about your baby,' I said. 'You knew he was dead, not suffering somewhere, not being abused by crazy people who think they're Christians. I don't know anything. But Justin is back, and now Jorge's brother Mateo is back.'

'I know, and you know that's different. Both boys are old enough to know who they are. And... and they're old enough to survive abuse and neglect.'

I thought about that, understood it, turned away from it

'You still have a life,' she said.

'I can't give up on her.'

'You can't now. But the time might come....'

I didn't say anything. After a while I spotted one of the men I had gotten information from back before I began working in Eureka. I went off to talk to him, see whether he'd heard anything. He hadn't.

************************************

sunday, june 10, 2035

It seems I'm to have a companion for my trip north. I don't know how I feel about that. Allie sent her to me. She's a woman who should have been rich and secure with her family down in Mendocino County, but, according to her, her family didn't want her. They wanted her brother, but they'd never wanted her. She was born from the body of a hired surrogate back when that was still unusual, and although she looks much like her mother and nothing like the surrogate, her parents never quite accepted her—especially after her brother was born the old-fashioned way from the body of his own mother. At 18, she was kidnapped for ransom, but no ransom was ever paid. She knew her parents had the money, but they never paid. Her brother was the prince, but some­how, she was never the princess. Her captors had kept her for a while for sex. Then, she got the idea to make herself seem sick. She would put her finger down her throat when­ever they weren't looking. Then she'd throw up all over everything. At last, in disgust and fear, her captors aban­doned her down near Clear Lake. When she tried to go home, she discovered that just before the Al-Can War began, her family left the area, moved to Alaska. Now, more than a year after her kidnapping, she was on her way to Alaska to find them. The fact that the war was not yet officially over didn't faze her. She had nothing and no one except her fam­ily, and she was going north. Allie had told her to go with me, at least as far as Portland. 'Watch one another's backs,' she said when she brought us together. 'Maybe you'll both manage to live for a while longer.'

Belen Ross, the girl's name was. She pronounced it Bay-LEN, and wanted to be called Len. She looked at me—at my clean but cheap men's clothing, my short hair, my boots.

'You don't need me,' she said. She's tall, thin, pale, sharp-nosed, and black-haired. She doesn't look strong, but she looks impressive, somehow. In spite of all that's hap­pened to her, she hasn't broken. She still has a lot of pride.

'Know how to use a gun?' I asked.

She nodded. 'I'm a damned good shot.'

'Then let's talk.'

The two of us went up to Allie's room and sat down to­gether at the pine table Allie had made for herself. It was simple and handsome. I ran a hand over it. 'Allie shouldn't be in a place like this,' I said. 'She's good at what she does. She should have a shop of her own in some town.'

'No one belongs in a place like this,' Len said. 'If chil­dren grow up here, what chance do they have?'

'What chance do you have?' I asked her.

She looked away. 'This is only about our traveling to­gether to Portland,' she said.