“What are we supposed to do?” Woody asked.
Ellyssa didn’t have an answer for him. Her medical education went as far as first aid, not enough to cure what ailed an aging man. All she knew to do, Trista was already doing—applying a wet cloth to his forehead. “I don’t know.” Strangely, even now, she noticed how her speech flipped-flopped back and forth.
The old man started choking again.
Ellyssa’s heart sputtered. Panic. She squashed the sensation before it incapacitated her. Slipping into her old skin, her comfort zone when chaos emerged, she became stoic; the turmoil inside her faded away.
“Grab that bowl,” Ellyssa said to Woody.
Woody handed it to her, and she put it under the old man just in time for Jordan to empty the contents of his stomach. Phlegm and bile filled the bowl, sloshing over one side.
“I am so sorry,” she said.
Jordan looked at her with dulled eyes. Beads of perspiration glimmered on his forehead. “No need for sorrow,” he muttered.
“I do not know what to do.”
He grinned. “Neither do I.”
Trista wrung the cloth out in a basin of water and placed it back on his head.
“What will make you comfortable?” Ellyssa asked.
“I want you to listen,” he said to Ellyssa, his voice low. She knelt closer to hear him. “My son, Jeremy, found you for a reason. I know it.”
He inhaled. Ellyssa could hear the sickening rattle deep inside his chest. She glanced at Woody; sorrow fixed his features and his eyes filled with tears.
“I know there is conflict, but I believe in you. You’ll do what is right.”
Watching the old man fade away right before her eyes put a chink in her armor. “Jordan,” she said, fighting to hang on to her impassiveness, “I do not know what you mean.” Her voice shook.
“You will,” Jordan said. His lips curled into a grin. Then, with his last breath, the leader’s eyes glazed over, forever stilled.
“Jordan.” She shook his arm. He didn’t respond.
Misery and loss, profound and unending, completely enveloped her, the strength unlike any sensation she’d felt thus far. Powerless, not knowing how to respond, the emotion smothered the logic of her mind. Her apathetic cocoon shattered into tiny fragments, the pieces forever gone. Tears floated in her eyes before overflowing down her cheeks.
“What am I supposed to do?” Ellyssa looked helplessly at Trista.
“I’m going to let the others know,” Trista said, her words almost undecipherable as she backed out of the hospital.
Jason left with her.
Ellyssa shook Jordan’s arm again, tears streaming down her face. She tried to blink them back, but they just kept coming, like an incessant drip from a leaky faucet. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make them stop. She remembered the first time tears had reached her eyes when she divulged her secret to Jordan, Rein, and Mathew, but this was different. She had absolutely no control.
She moaned, then sobs racked her body.
A hand touched her shoulder. She turned. Woody stood over her, his grey eyes shadowed.
“There’s nothing you can do,” he said, his voice cracking.
Woody pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Ellyssa had never thought about needing comfort, needing the touch of another human being, given by a man who didn’t care for her. She needed it now. Returning his embrace, she buried her face in his chest and let the emotion take her into new territory.
25
After crying what seemed like a river of tears, Ellyssa sat on her cot. Her eyes were dry and raw. The memory of Jordan, his face peacefully at rest, was imprinted in her brain. His people had gathered to pay tribute as he was lowered into a grave, tossing in wildflowers.
Ellyssa had never witnessed a funeral. When someone died at The Center, the empty shells disappeared into the incinerator, burned like trash. But here, the death of a loved one was mourned, their memory cherished.
She wished she had more to cherish. The loss she felt in her chest, for a man she’d just met, was profound. The way he’d touched her life, in such a short time, amazed her. No wonder emotions and attachments were prohibited at The Center. She felt drained.
Ellyssa felt so alone.
Then, there was Rein. She wanted to talk to him and apologize for harboring her secret, risking his trust. He’d been gone longer than any of them had expected, but no one seemed worried. Woody had told her that sometimes there were unforeseen hang-ups, delaying travel. His words didn’t comfort her.
The sadness, the loneliness, the worry ate at her. Ellyssa needed serenity, to block out everything.
She stood and started her tai chi exercises. The fluid movements and slow breathing were calming, much more so than karate. It was one thing she’d secretly relished for as long as she could remember.
Ellyssa’s feet slid across the floor, lightly, as if she could defy gravity, her hands fluidly moving from side to side, lightening her sorrow. Finishing the second in the series, she pulled her feet together and bowed to the wall.
“Doc said you were a beautiful sight to behold, but I never imagined,” Woody said.
She had heard Woody come in and hoped he would go away. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, even after the moment they had shared. Besides, she didn’t know how to act now that he had seen her at her weakest. He’d witnessed a whole new Ellyssa. She ignored him and started on the next set of graceful movements.
“Ellyssa, may I have a moment?” Woody asked.
Ellyssa’s hands flopped to her side. “Yes.” She returned to her cot. “Please.” She offered him a seat across from her.
“I won’t be staying,” he said, much to her relief. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for my previous behavior.”
“No apology is necessary.”
“No, there is. Jordan was right.” Woody’s voice choked on the old leader’s name. “You can teach our people a lot.”
Placing his elbows on his knees, he looked at her, his tired grey eyes full of sadness, his hair in disarray. “I was part of society at one time. I ran away when I was eight.”
Ellyssa was taken aback. “You ran away?”
Woody nodded. “My eyes aren’t quite right, and my hair…” He waved his hand as if presenting the trouble crowning the top of his head. “My real mother couldn’t stand to look at me anymore—because of my imperfections. I overheard my parents. They wanted to send me to the camps. I ran.”
“How did you survive?”
“One evening, late at night, I was rooting around in some trash cans, in search of something to eat.” He chuckled as a look of disgust registered on Ellyssa’s face.
Partly aghast at his rummaging for food in garbage, and the other part angry over her lessening ability to pay attention to control, Ellyssa blanked her face.
“A woman heard me and came out to investigate,” he continued. “I tried to hide behind the can, but she saw me and easily coaxed me out with a piece of bread.” Shaking his head. “I was bought with a piece of bread. Can you believe it?”
Ellyssa didn’t know whether to respond. The answer was yes, though, she could believe it. Regular society’s children were not taught the art of survival.
“I was lucky. Very lucky. The woman who coaxed me out was part of the movement.”
“Just how many are there?”
“More than you would think. More than even we know. The lady,” Woody continued, “brought me here. Jordan took me as his own.” He rubbed his hands together and stood. “Listen, I just wanted you to know I’m sorry.”
“Accepted.”
He left the room.
Feeling better, Ellyssa finished her exercises with a lighter heart. She liked Woody. Not only for holding her when she’d broken down, but for exposing a part of himself to her.