Eternal Youth (18 page)

In the meeting hall, breakfast was already laid out on the tables. There were only three parliament members in attendance—Darren, Gretta, and another man whose name Callie didn’t know. They sat in silent contemplation of their meals, only occasionally exchanging short, low remarks.

Callie was bummed to find the sexy blond wasn’t around.

The new shirt and pants she wore felt wispy on her skin. The cotton was so soft it was nearly weightless; it was a big change from the dirty, stiff t-shirt and jeans she’d worn for two days straight. After her bath in the communal bath hall—which had been
weird
to say the least—Callie felt human again.

She inhaled her breakfast of eggs and pancakes after slathering everything with syrup. She earned a raised eyebrow from Nailah who said, “Syrup on eggs?”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

As they sipped coffee that was amazingly good, Darren stood up at the head table and clapped his hands for silence. “I trust you all found clothes to suit you?”

Several murmurs of thanks arose from the crowd.

“Also today, we will begin the pairing of your family units with your new homes. Aionia slowly builds every day, adding homes to the outskirts of the city for our new arrivals. Your ambassadors will accompany you in Cruisers to the new homes near the harbor.

“If you have any questions after you finish breakfast,” Darren went on, “don’t hesitate to come to myself, Gretta, or Jeroen.” He indicated the young, stoic man with dark hair beside him. “We’ll be here for the next hour, at your service.”

Callie followed her mother and Gran, her arm linked through Nailah’s as Lisbeth led them to a Cruiser parked on the side of the road. The market was still in full swing, and even more crowded than it had been earlier that morning.

Lisbeth hopped into the driver’s seat, and Gran chuckled. “Lisbeth, I beg your pardon, but are you even old enough to drive?”

The girl laughed, a tinkle of sound like bells. “There are no driving ages in Aionia. Please, climb in.”

Callie wasn’t sure how she felt about a pre-teen girl driving her around.
I guess this car is more like a dune buggy, anyway
, she told herself as she crawled into the small backseat.

Nailah settled on the bench seat beside her and gave Callie a wide-eyed look as the Cruiser rumbled away from the curb. “Weird.”

“We could write a theme song to this place and call it ‘Weird’,” Callie replied, leaning her head wearily on the headrest.

Lisbeth was a fairly decent driver. She navigated the streets of Aionia as if she knew where she was going and what she was doing. They passed what seemed to be an extremely active inner city. The air smelled like a heavenly combination of saltwater and the scent of cooking meat.

“There are no red lights,” Nailah observed after a few minutes. She had gathered her braids in one hand and held the bunch tightly at the back of her head to keep the wind from whipping them in her eyes.

“And the stop signs are different.” Callie pointed to another of the large, white signs with the backwards “B” etched in black. “Or, at least I
think
it’s a stop sign since she stops at them.”

Nailah chuckled. “I thought the same.”

Lisbeth turned onto a narrow street, slowing the Cruiser as it curved around the corner of a big stone building. The road straightened and descended towards the ocean.

They followed the cobblestones down to the water, where Lisbeth parked the Cruiser on a strip of dirt. She pressed a button, turning the car off, and swiveled in her seat to address her passengers. “We’ll step inside this small hut here, where the receptionist will have you fill out a survey to help place you in the proper home.”

Callie glanced at Nailah and hid a smile.
There’s that “proper” again
.

“Follow me.” Lisbeth hadn’t seemed to notice the girls’ exchange.

The hut had a thatch roof and a crooked wooden door that had to be lifted in order to open smoothly. Lisbeth stepped back to allow the others to pass before her, and then closed the door behind them.

There was only one room inside: a circular office surrounded by windows so that it was sunny and bright. It was dominated by a modest dark wood desk and a dresser.

The receptionist was Gretta. “Hello, ladies!”

“You’re just everywhere, aren’t you, hon?” Gran said brightly. Callie always felt better just being in the same room with her grandmother’s good attitude lightening tough situations.

“I go where they send me.” Gretta smiled. She pushed a clipboard and pen across the desk and tapped a finger on the waiting form. “This form will help us keep track of who’s living where. It aids us in placing you in your new home.”

Emma glanced at Gran, who nodded. Callie’s mom picked up the clipboard and said, “Is there somewhere I can sit to fill it out?”

Gretta nodded to a small, unremarkable chair nearly hidden by the side of the desk. “Feel free to use the top of my desk.”

“We’re going to step outside,” Callie told her mother, grabbing Nailah’s elbow and pulling her towards the door. “We’ll wait for you there.”

Her mother waved absently, already bent over the form.

The air smelled like salt and lush, growing things. The hut sat on a thatch of vividly green grass, and a thin dirt path led away from it to a beach of white sand. Callie led Nailah down to the water’s edge, where they shed their sandals and walked into the gently waving water.

“What are you thinking?” Nailah asked. She kicked at the water, and together they watched as the spray caused mini rainbows in the sunlight.

“Going home. I’m trying to remember that all of this”—Callie paused and gestured wildly around her—“is just temporary and this time next week, we’ll be home.”

Nailah just looked at her, her mocha skin shining in the bright sunshine. Her big, dark eyes were haunted. Framed by the white stone buildings of Aionia and the startling blue water, she looked surreal.

“We’re still going to find a way out, right?” Callie asked softly, shuffling her feet in the water. The sand between her toes felt real. The life going on around her did not.

Nailah turned her eyes to the horizon. Callie didn’t know about her friend, but she couldn’t look out over the water without remembering the men and women who died on the fiery ship after surviving a plane crash.

“Yeah, Callie. I hope so.”

“It’s typical of the homes here in Aionia,” Lisbeth said as she turned a key in the lock. “Of course, it’s a bit bigger because there are four of you. It isn’t often we get such a large family. We get many young couples on honeymoon, of course.”

The thought brought Callie’s mood down. She couldn’t imagine marrying the love of her life and heading for a short, blissful Bahamian honeymoon, only to find they’d spend the rest of their life together apart from everything they knew.

Callie was skeptical of what the inside would look like. The townhome was one of many in a long strip of block-stone houses. No glass in the windows, only a thin, flimsy door, and not a thing to set the home apart from the others around it.

The only guiding light was the fact that the ocean was right out the front door.

“Both units on either side of you are empty at the moment,” Lisbeth went on, consulting the clipboard Gretta had given her. She shoved the door open and propped it against the wall. “As you can see, the bottom floor is all one room. You have your living area and kitchen. Upstairs…”

Nobody spoke as they followed Lisbeth up the narrow, winding staircase. Though clean and new, the apartment was dark and dreary. Callie felt depression settling in as they exited the staircase onto a tiny upper landing.

The upstairs was no better—only two small bedrooms with two beds each, though the beds were much larger than the twin-sized ones they were sleeping in at the temple. Each room had a closet and dresser and luckily, a window.

“It won’t be as dark,” Nailah murmured.

“It’s the inside of a stone coffin.” Callie sighed

Emma took her hand and gave her a sad smile. “We’ll buy some pretty tapestries.”

After Lisbeth left them to get acquainted with their new home—with the promise that she would return later with their belongings—Gran started opening cabinets and drawers. “Kitchen’s stocked.”

“There are books on the bookcase,” Emma said happily, wandering over to the small wooden case in the corner. It wasn’t large, but it was stuffed full.

“Extra oil lamps in the armoire,” Nailah said, her voice muffled from inside the closet.

Callie sank into a chair at the small kitchen table and rested her chin in a hand. Outside the open door, the cry of seagulls echoed over the harbor.

“Are you okay?” Emma asked. She scooted a chair closer to her daughter and sat in it, wrapping her arms around Callie’s shoulders.

Her mother’s comfort opened the deep emotions that had built up in Callie over the day. “We have a house,” she sniffled.

“That’s right, baby. We’re safe. We’re alive. Hell, we aren’t even injured anymore.” Emma laughed. She squeezed Callie tightly. “If you need to cry, Calista, don’t try to stop it.”

Callie glanced around the room—a couch, a table, a sink. She thought of the two small bedrooms upstairs and the oil lamps to light the way. The waves beyond their front door crashed ceaselessly against the rocks.

Callie took a deep, shuddery breath. “It just feels real now.”

“We’re not going to give up, baby. If there’s a way out of here, we
will
find it.” Emma pressed her face to Callie’s head and stroked her daughter’s hair.

“I sure hope so,” Callie murmured. Her mom’s slow rocking soothed her. “Braden…Mom, he
needs
us. We’re not even going to be there for him when his dad dies.”

Gran—who had abandoned her exploration of the new apartment—wandered over and put a gentle hand on Callie’s shoulder. “I thought of him earlier, too, dear. I hate it, but there’s nothing we can do. Braden’s a strong boy. He’ll be okay.” Gran let out a breath and patted Callie’s arm. “Now, who wants some tea? I found a tin of black in the cabinet.”

“That would be great, Mom.” Emma smiled gratefully, and with one last squeeze, released Callie’s shoulder. “I’m going to go freshen up in the bathroom.”

Nailah took a seat across from Callie and smiled wryly. “No television.”

“No internet!” Callie wailed, letting her head drop dramatically to the table where she banged it on the rough wood three times.

“Drama queen,” Nailah said fondly.

They listened to the sound of the ocean outside the open windows and door, and the shuffling of Gran in the kitchen as she lit the wood stove and banged around in the cabinets for a pan.

“Grab me some water, will you, love?” Gran held out a pitcher.

“There isn’t a faucet?” Callie stared dumbfounded at her grandmother.

The woman
tsk
ed and shook her head. “Calista Bishoff, my mother grew up on a farm in the south that
still
doesn’t have running water. Get your butt outside and draw some from the well.”

Nailah giggled as Callie took the pitcher from her grandmother’s hand. “You’re coming with me,” she told Nailah, sticking her tongue out.

Callie sipped her tea, flavored with a couple of mint leaves pulled from a plant outside, and listened to Gran and Nailah chatter.

“Were you in school in New York?” Gran asked over her coffee mug. She had her little pinky finger straight out like some prim and proper English duchess. Callie had been making fun of her for the affectation for years.

Nailah sat her mug down and smiled. “I didn’t attend a school, but I was taking online classes.”

“Oh, that’s lovely. Did you enjoy it?”

“Um, not really.” Nailah laughed. “I have dyslexia.”

The proclamation made Callie jerk, and tea spilled on the table. “You’re what?”

“Dyslexic. You know, where I jumble the letters up in words.”

Gran pushed away from the table and grabbed a towel from the rack, passing it to Callie. Callie wiped up her mess as she said, “Sorry, yeah, I know what dyslexia is. I just didn’t think…”

“That such a pretty girl would be so flawed?” Nailah’s eyes were dangerous.

“No.” Callie shook her head. “Not that at all. Quit with your conclusion jumping. I mean,” Callie said honestly, “you’re really smart. Like, crazy smart. You were spouting Bermuda Triangle babble to me on the plane and you used the word ‘colloquialism’ this morning!”

“Dyslexia doesn’t mean one is dumb, Calista.” Gran sat back down in her seat and crossed her legs. The ankle-length cotton dress she wore beneath her white cardigan sweater made her look like a free-loving hippie. Callie loved it. Gran turned back to Nailah. “I admire you for conquering your condition, dear.”

Nailah blushed. “Thanks, Gran.”

Emma’s heavy footsteps on the flimsy wooden stairs foretold her appearance. She rushed across the stone floors, kicking up dust, and stopped at the edge of the table, pressing both of her palms to the top. Callie recognized the wild look in her eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about how quickly we’ve all healed,” she said. “All they used was water. Do you think the water supply has healing properties?”

“Oh, Mom,
please
don’t start with your crazy fountain ideas again.” Callie groaned, burying her head in her hands. “I can barely handle this alternate whatever-the-hell this is. I can’t deal with your insane fantasies.”

“I wasn’t even going to say anything about the fountain, Calista Alana.” Emma frowned at her daughter. She paused, her eyes going unfocused over Callie’s head. “Although, now that you mention it…”

“Not now, Mother.” Callie stood up, leaving her empty mug on the table, and wandered over to the window. Outside, a small group of schoolchildren kicked a ball in the cobblestone road. “Focus. What were you going to say?”

“It’s occurred to us all that we each healed entirely too fast.” Emma spread her hands and shrugged. “What if the water has healing properties? Maybe because of the difference in the atmosphere?”

“What differences?” Nailah asked. She had her chin resting in one hand as she stared with interest at Emma.