“I let you sleep,” Cherie said as she leads me to the dinner table.
“What time is it?”
“Dinnertime,” Cherie answers with a smile as she sits me down.
I check my phone, it is a little past five. “I’m sorry about that. That doesn’t normally ever happen to me. I usually can never nap… even when I used to try. I’d just lay there.”
I look at the plate in front of me, I am surprised to see spaghetti and garlic bread. I was sure it was going to be something French related. I spin the noodles with my fork and begin to eat. Cherie mimics my actions and smiles.
“This is great, thank you,” I say as I nod.
“Thank you…” Cherie says as she nods.
I want to ask if she’s mirroring me, but I can tell by the way that she is eating in the exact same manner as I am that she is. I decide to keep quiet and just eat—to simply just enjoy the moment. Sometimes silence in the company of others isn’t really silence at all.
After dinner, Cherie begins to gather the plates. I stop her.
“Please let me, it’s my job.”
Cherie nods once and follows me into the kitchen. She watches intently as I wash the dishes and put them away. Once finished, I realize that it is time to leave.
“I’m going to visit Noah tomorrow, would you like to come?”
“Rest day,” Cherie simply replies. “Noah is… nice, but too busy, too up and down, and noisy… Rest day.”
“Right,” I say as I nod. “Well I should be going.”
“We pack on Saturday,” Cherie says as she hugs me goodbye. “Don’t forget.”
“I won’t…” I say as I begin to leave. “I promise. You have a good night.”
“Good night, Ethan,” Cherie says. As I begin to walk down the stairs I look up and notice that she is watching me from a tiny opening from behind her door. Her eyes are sad.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Without a word she slowly shuts the door. I think about going back, but I know it would be considered improper. I am sure that she will be fine after all.
As I relax in bed that night. I laugh to myself at all of the rules I’ve managed to break on the very same day that I’ve been told not to break them. I let her get close enough to harm me—I showed a complete lack of protocol by leaving my cell, my only lifeline in case of an emergency, in the glove box of my car while I snuck an Unstable into a restaurant where people could have been injured… but somehow, I do not care. It all seems so trivial. It was good to see Bobby again, good to know that he was doing well, even if it had only been a little over a few months since we last talked.
Deciding to at least not break one rule that the caseworker set out, I turn on the TV. I am not tired anyway. A spokeswoman from C-Shapes is on television. She is talking about how upset the company is about the loss of Texas and Alaska, and how she and the President of the United States both desperately hope that no other states decide to follow such a destructive path. She announces a new pill; one that will be implemented next month that will greatly reduce the number of Unstables who go Aggro. She also promises that a cure is on the way and will be ready for distribution in less than one year. This new cure will not fix the damage already done to the mind of Unstables, however it will completely prevent them from going Aggro.
The news then flashes to some riots going on in Los Angeles. An Aggro killed another Sitter… however, as the Hunters and the local police force gunned him down, they accidentally killed a four year old girl riding her bicycle in the area. This prompted angry citizens to take to the streets and fight back against the police, throwing rocks through cop car windows and a video is shown of one of the offending Hunters being strung up by his neck with a belt upon a stop light, a warning to other Hunters that the civilians are demanding retribution. On the calmer side of the issue, a candle-light vigil is held where the girl was gunned down. Pictures of her and gifts are piled alongside a telephone pole. It is reported that over a hundred and twenty five rounds were fired between both the hunters and the local police. For once, Unstables weren’t being blamed. However, it was quite a tragedy none-the-less.
The quarantine project in Hawaii is going well. Although there are some reports of Unstables going missing and possibly heading off into the mountains, possibly gone Aggro. Hunters have been dispatched to the area. However, the situation could be very dangerous. They return each night on the ferry with the Sitters and other personnel without a trace of these missing Unstables.
Japan is adopting a similar policy, until a cure is found, by transferring its Unstables to Sapporo to keep them away from the rest of the population. Preparations are currently being made to transport them by a huge converted cargo ship.
I prefer this option much more than the one adopted by Texas and Alaska, and some of the other countries, of simply killing off their Unstables. Either way, to me, none of it seems quite right. My mind wanders back to something that Katharine said… it was almost like they knew Texas and Alaska were going to go—that it was somehow an acceptable loss. I tend to not think about conspiracies or put much stock in all these wild rumors going around—however, it did sound like it was more of a money issue. What did she mean by “not really onboard?” I will never understand—Perhaps, I’m not smart enough. I eventually let it go.
I see a short video about Europe and how they are dealing with the situation the same way we are, I see someone holding up a sign that says ‘Keep hope alive.’ It seems like a good way to end my time of forcing myself to watch the news. I turn of the TV and turn on my city sounds generator.
“Keep hope alive…” I whisper to myself.
6. The Message
“How are you doing today, Noah?” I ask as I enter the basement room.
“No changes,” he says as he looks at me and nods.
“I’m not asking like that…”
“You should, you know… you should be asking—it is protocol after all. You don’t want to get fired from your job, do you?”
“No, I don’t. I just don’t see why it is necessary to be formal all the time,” I say as I lean against the doorway.
“Where is Cherie?”
“Resting today, we had a pretty busy day—we did some shopping, we even—“
“Don’t want to hear about it.”
“Right sorry,” I say, feeling slightly confused and a little hurt. “Do you want to go anywhere?”
“Not today,” Noah says as he turns his attention away from me and begins to type away on an old computer.
“You’re still writing, that’s great,” I say as I approach.
“Make me a grilled cheese sandwich,” Noah says as he turns once more and gives me a look that makes me stop in my tracks. “Please…”
“Hey,” I say attempting to diffuse the strange tension in the room. “If this is about the phone call from the caseworker, don’t worry—they were just checking up on me. Thanks for the good comments by the way.”
“What?” Noah says as he continues to look at me blankly. “Didn’t get a phone call from anyone…”
“Katharine, she gave me you as a case.”
“Oh,” Noah says as he shakes his head. “Of course, I got that. No problem. I have to get some work done here.”
“Right,” I say as I walk away and head towards the kitchen area. I begin the simple process of preparing a grilled cheese sandwich. I take a little more time than I normally would so that I allow Noah some time to cool off. I can’t quite place what has gotten him so upset. Perhaps, he is just having a bad day. We all have those.