“Thank you for this information. I’ll act on it.” I tucked the card into my day suit pocket and patted the outside fabric closed.
“Have Jason go as well, any of your friends that you hope to see on the ship with you should prepare.” I took the final bite of my fruit and smiled.
This was a piece of information that could save my life. I understood what I saw now. The house was being emptied, and he was leaving to join his wife. The explanation of the reality of survival was a parting gift.
“I hope you can appreciate how important a bit of information can be to some people. I may send a few citizens your way in the coming days, people who have concerns about their loved ones who live outside the township.”
“That would be very nice, Mr. Tilley. Jason and I love to entertain.” I gathered my suit and pulled my arms into the sleeves. Mr. Tilley pulled my hair into a bundle out of the way of my shoulder panels.
“You do remind me of your grandmother,” he smiled. His memory of her was wistful. I kissed him on the cheek, and I thanked him for the compliment.
“Choose your path and stick to it. For all your days will be defined by it. Good luck to you, my Dear.”
“Good travels to you, Mr. Tilley,” I replied. I patted my pocket containing his business card and nodded.
The driver was right outside the door where I had left him. He pulled on his thick gloves, zipped them closed, and secured his suit without a word. The next stop was the Eaton estate, and so far, we were still right on schedule.
SLEEPING BEAUTY
Walking into the Eaton mansion, you could feel an odd tension in the air. The young woman who opened the door had a pleasant enough smile, but she looked me up and down before inviting me inside. She smiled at my driver Craig like she knew him, and cheerfully took the box of supplies from his arms. A second, older-looking woman closed the door directly behind us and led him to a side room to rest.
A third woman escorted me back through several rooms of the estate. Each room had a set of heavy double entry doors that needed to be unlocked. Aside from the security, each room looked correctly appointed. What little cheerfulness there was to be found in the household dimmed the further away I got from the front door. The core of the mansion was sparsely decorated. The private rooms were cold and empty in many areas, as if furniture was missing.
Mrs. Eaton appeared out of a side corridor. She greeted me warmly and led me to Beryl's wing of the house to leave my things.
“Thank you for a visit today, Mrs. Eaton,” I said, hugging her lightly.
“Listen to you, call me Priscilla. We are family now, my Dear, you are welcome here anytime.” I smiled and handed my suit to a fourth woman who was waiting to take it from me.
“See that it's fully charged,” Priscilla instructed, as she led me into another large room. Beryl and another of the staff arrived to greet me.
“Kar, this is Zeke's cousin Greta.” The middle-aged woman threw herself at me and hugged me tightly.
“Nice to meet you, Greta,” I said, peeling the woman off my chest. Beryl had a sheepish smile—one I only saw her use when she had unpleasant news for me.
Greta looked at us both closely, “Ahh, I see it now. You both look like your father, but I see a bit of your mother there in your eyes.” Greta smiled and cupped my cheek in her hand. “Such a beautiful girl, no wonder he was so concerned.”
“Zeke? Have you spoken to him since they started moving the camp?” Greta winked and pulled me close to her again.
“I have, and he is safe. I told him you made it home unharmed within a day. He was very pleased to hear you are doing well.”
“I'm so relieved that he's safe,” I sighed, looking at Beryl.
“Noah climbed the shelf's face with me then went to see a shipwreck off the southern tip of the Continent. I was only alone for a half-day.” Greta excused herself to some duties in the kitchen and pulled Priscilla along with her leaving Beryl and me alone to talk.
“Holy shit, blink twice if you need me to rescue you.” Beryl rolled her eyes and grabbed me by the hand. “This place is locked up tighter than a re-education camp on Sunday morning,” I huffed.
“I don't need to be rescued, but I do have some things to explain.” Beryl led me into a brightly lit room, in the center of it was a half-dressed man lying on top of a bed with tubes and wires attached to his every limb. The skin on my arms and legs crawled in protest at the sight.
“Beryl, what have you done?” She sat me down in a chair next to her and began explaining her plight.
The man she married is this comatose man on the bed. The man I thought was Priscilla Eaton's dead son, was not dead. Our grandparents suggesting Beryl for such an operation seemed cruel to me. Beryl spoke of the half-dead man on the bed as if he were alive. As if he would pop off the sheets at any moment and play the doting husband, she wants him to be.
All I could think of was the pending destruction and the care the man needed. The beeping and the whirring of the machines in the room were dizzying. This whole estate could be reduced to rubble with his body entombed underneath. When this fairytale ends, my sister will be left broken-hearted.
I begin to wonder if she planned to leave him here when the time comes. I hoped with the addition of
