Dancing In The Wind

Four Beth, Marcus, & Murals

Four

Beth, Marcus, & MuralsThe room was spacious. LED lights hung from the ceiling and cast a sterile glow over the entire area. Partial murals adorned the once-white walls, much like the hallways of the first and second floors. Four rows of five rectangular tables, each seating up to a dozen people, filled the space. Neat stacks of black plastic chairs with shiny metal legs rested against part of the back wall.

The cafeteria wasn't just for dining, but supplied a spot for group and private meetings. It was where the aware discussed the next plan. Where the cognizant helped those still in semi and complete unresponsive states. And where the brainwashed came for psychotherapy and reprogramming. It was a safe place where we examined problems with our memories and fears. Since returning, I made my discontent with the living arrangements known and argued with my parents often, hoping to convince them to allow me to spend the winter in Kearney. The small town was about a forty-five-minute drive south of the compound and centred between two small lakes. I would have threatened to leave, but I learned they would reinstall the cameras, so I yielded and kept my hope of escaping to myself.

From inside the entrance, my gaze swept over the people scattered in the room. When I spotted my target, I crossed the floor.

Beth occupied a table at the far end of the lunchroom. The multi-coloured sweater she wore blended with the mural on the wall behind her, making her almost invisible.

“Hi,” I said to my younger sister as I pulled out the chair across from her. The felt-covered feet slid silently over the pale grey tile.

“Hey,” she responded without even a glance in my direction. Her focus was on a large text. An awkward silence descended like a thick fog hanging in the air.

“What are you reading?” My voice parted the white haze. We'd spoken few words to each other since returning to the compound.

Beth picked up the volume and showed me the cover. I nodded, not surprised by the grip the medical tome had on her.

“What do you want?” Beth said. The move back to C.E.C.I.L. hadn't halted the progress she'd made regaining her identity. Her to-the-point, say-what-you-mean, feisty-self was still intact. Even the stutter that appeared as the hypno-drug wore off faded, but for the occasional relapse.

The argument I had with Beth weeks earlier filled my head. “To apologize.” I closed my eyes for a moment, struggling to keep my composure, which crumbled with my words.

Beth broke away from reading. Her gaze softened, and she reached out and touched my hand. “No worries,” she said.

My eyes burned, and I wiped the tears before they trailed down my cheeks. “Thing is…” I stopped as I struggled to explain. “I thought I was over it.” Marcus' face flashed in front of me and with it, the memory of my jealousy over his relationship with Caia.

“It's good to see you, Caia,” Marcus says, picking up the rocks from around our fire pit.

“You know each other,” I say out loud, confirming what I'd suspected.

Beth gapes. “Do you?” she says.

“She was in my group before.” Marcus lifts another rock and adds it to the two he cradles in his arms. His biceps flex under the load.

“We got separated,” Caia adds.

“Have you been alone all this time? What have you been doing?” Marcus says to Caia. His question softens her tough-girl act and Caia nods; her eyes brim with tears. Marcus smiles, leans forward, and kisses her tenderly on the cheek. For a split second, I wish it is my cheek he's kissed.

The memory faded as quickly as it had started, and I finished my apology. “Not that we ever had anything. What I felt was one-sided. He didn't have a clue about my growing feelings for him. Then Caia showed up, and it was obvious they had something. And then later you and Marcus were… anyway, you grew close and I… well, I'm sorry. The entire situation was my fault, and my reaction was childish.”

“Really, it's okay, I understand. Marcus helped me deal with Shaun's death. We've supported each other. And anyhow, he's got five years on me.”

“Closer to four and a half.” I shrugged, Marcus was the same age as Noah, two years older than me. “Anyway, I wouldn't care if you and…”

“Friends, April. And Mom and Dad probably would care.” Beth smiled, and she returned her attention to the book. After a few moments, she flipped the page of the text.

“Why did you use your hand?” I questioned. Beth had a telekinetic talent that she'd rediscovered while we wandered the forest. Though not perfected, she showed it to me one day by flipping through the pages of a nature book she'd found.

Beth closed the volume, ending my recollection. “I've given that up.”

“But I thought you were strengthening your skills so you could move bigger and heavier things. Don't give up!”

Beth shook her head. “That's not what I want anymore. I want this.” She tapped the book. “I wish to help people and save them from illness or injury. Telekinesis will not do that. And developing some silly ability was what… Cecil wanted.” She hesitated on the name that made me cringe. “This is what I choose,” she reiterated and tapped the book again. “Anyway, my talent was one reason for this mess.”

I nodded. If only I could give up my memory recall as easily.

“Everything okay?” Marcus appeared behind Beth. His muscles flexed as he folded his arms.

“Sit,” Beth commanded, and he peered at her with one eyebrow raised. Beth sighed, “Please.”

Marcus smiled and sat next to her. “I'm trying to teach your sister manners, you know.”

“Good luck with that.” My mouth contorted into a half-smile.

Beth turned her glare onto me, then laughed. “Ya well, what can I say.” She shrugged.

Marcus' his hand rested on the table beside Beth's, her white skin looking even more pale in contrast to his brown. I smiled, happy that my blue eyes were no longer tinged with green.

“So, everything's okay?” Marcus repeated.

Beth grinned. “Av just came to apologize.”

Marcus pointed a finger back and forth between us. “So, we're good?” he said.

“Yes,” I chuckled. “We're good.”

We chatted and laughed for a while as we enlightened each other on what we'd been doing since the move. The mood was light. The awkward fog lifted.

“So,” Beth said, her voice rising. “Are you ever going to finish any?”

My brow creased, but I rubbed the tension away with my fingertips as my blank gaze drifted between Beth and Marcus. The vast beginnings of what would be seascapes, landscapes, and cityscapes on the walls that surrounded us caught my attention, and I understood what my sister meant. “How did…”

“Everyone knows it's you, Av,” Beth said.

“I'm not the only one painting.”

“True, there are some smaller paintings and drawings from others, but yours are the only ones that are unfinished.”

The painting started the first night of our return to the compound. Visions of stark-white corridors had invaded my dreams. Unable to sleep, I'd confiscated paint and brushes we'd brought from Kearney and placed in a room we used as storage. Every night, I covered walls until I could no longer see, and exhaustion replaced the restless thoughts that prevented me from sleep.

“I don't think I can,” I admitted.

“Why not?” Marcus said.

“Because of all the things trapped inside my head, these are the ones I can't remember, don't know. I'm not sure what the world looks like anymore.”