I tossed from one side to the other, willing sleep to come. Just as I’d dozed off, Dee’s PAV beeped. I jumped out of bed and grabbed her receiver before she woke up.
“Hello?” I whispered.
A click and then silence.
Ed.
XI
Next morning I got up at the same time as Gran. She was in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by moving boxes, her back to me.
I’d made up my mind to tell her what I knew. But she looked so frail and vulnerable, my knees trembled and my heart began fluttering. Before I could give in to my doubts, I blurted out, “Ginnie told me my father is still alive.”
“Really?” She picked a coffee cup out of the box nearest her, unwrapped it, and rinsed it off in the sink. She usually made her own coffee in an ancient electric pot, but that morning she used the cook center. “I wonder why she would say a thing like that?”
Hardly the reaction I’d expected after telling her that her only son, my father, was alive—instead of being dead for nearly sixteen years.
“I believed her. She was dying. Why would she lie to me?”
Gran filled up her cup and pushed a button on the chiller. White liquid swirled under the surface of the coffee.
“She said that he was alive and probably right here in Chicago.” I looked hopefully at Gran. Maybe she knew already. Maybe she’d been keeping this same secret. But why?
“Nina, dear.” She took a sip of her coffee. “He drowned on the way home from the hospital the night you were born. A transport forced him off the bridge by Wacker and Michigan. His body was never found.”
The same story I’d heard a thousand times. No variation, no change. Except Ginnie had said different.
Gran continued: “She was most certainly under the influence of that Infinity contraption. I don’t know much about it, and still can’t believe they used it on anyone besides a top-tier. Even then”—she looked off in the distance, her brow furrowed—“it’s rarely used. Just in extreme cases where there are permissions to be given or a will to be authenticated or something. Unless they were waiting for some low-tier to come in practically dead so they could run an experiment.” She took another sip of coffee, making a face like it tasted bad.
“Gran. She said he was alive.”
“Nina, they were so very much in love. Sometimes, when people are dying, they seem to see their loved ones who have gone before them. I’m sure she believed what she was saying was true. He probably seemed alive to her at the moment.”
“Eh?” Pops queried from the doorway, where he had hobbled on his crutch. “Who believed what? Who’s alive? Besides me.”
“Nothing, old man.” Gran scowled at the empty space that should have been his prosthesis. “How many times do I have to tell you to put your leg on before you get up? Your thumping around on that crutch is bound to make us popular with the new neighbors downstairs.” Even as she complained, she was unpacking another cup.
“Ginnie said that my father’s still alive.” I ignored Gran’s disapproving glance. I didn’t believe her explanations—and I needed someone to validate me. I only hoped Pops was stronger than he appeared. Ginnie’d had a good reason for keeping my father’s life a secret. And I was determined to discover what that reason was.
Gran harrumphed and went back to unpacking the box of dishes.
“Alan alive? Wouldn’t surprise me one little bit, Little Bit.” Pops chuckled to himself. He took a sip of the coffee Gran handed him and attempted to pat her on the fanny with his crutch as she walked by. Except he lost his balance and nearly fell over. I suppressed a snort.
She turned back around and Pops, smiling innocently, held his cup in the air. “Best java in the world.”
“It’s cook center coffee, not mine,” she retorted, but a smile danced at the corners of her mouth. Then she frowned. “Now, don’t you be telling Nina that Alan’s still alive.” Her voice thinned. “You know as well as I do that he’s gone.”
Pops sat his cup and himself down. “I know what they told us, Edith. And I also know that he had everything to live for—Nina, for example.” He patted my hand. “And I know that he could swim.” Pops’s tone became strident. “I don’t believe anything the government says. It’s all lies.” His eyes flashed. “Just look at me.” He slapped his stump for emphasis. “They took care of me good, just like they promised, didn’t they?”
“The ravings of an old lunatic.” Gran ran her hand across her forehead. “They should’ve replaced your brain while they were at it.” She started rummaging through the boxes. “Since the cook center’s not set up for food yet, I’ll make us a real breakfast.”
“Flapjacks? Syrup and butter on top?” Pops sounded like a little kid asking for cake.
“Coming up.” She dug around for the ingredients, stacking them on the counter one by one. “I’ve got everything except baking powder. Here, dear.” She handed me her card. “Run to the store and get a box. Make it quick, I can’t start until get you back.”
I grabbed my sweater from the hook by the door and ran out. The elport took forever, but soon I was on the ground floor. I rushed out of the lobby into the crisp fall morning.
I hurried the two blocks to the nearest Foodland. At the closest self-service kiosk I tapped in baking powder. I slid Gran’s card through the scanner, and a second later, the register dinged. I removed the box from the delivery chute, not bothering to bag it. The kiosk voice said, “Please confirm receipt of all your items. Remove your card, and thank you for shopping at Foodland.”
“You, too.” I was glad the store was empty, so no one heard me conversing with robo machines. I was almost to the “out” door when I noticed Sal coming through the “in” door.
“Nina,” he called out. “Wait up.”
I hadn’t seen him since the day at the zoo… the day Ginnie’d been killed. It was hard to believe that was only five days ago. It felt like forever. He’d called, but I’d ignored his calls. I didn’t want to talk to him then, either, but still I stopped. Sometimes I was too nice for my own good.
“I tried calling.” He rounded the counter. “Mike told me about your mother.”
“He did?” I made a mental note to yell at Mike the next time I saw him.
“Yeah, I was checking to make sure I had your number right and he told me about the, uh…”
“Murder?” I glared at him. “You can say it. It’s what happened. Somebody murdered my mother, okay?”
He was studying my face, trying to size up my emotional state, I supposed. “I’m really sorry. I know how hard it is.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” I didn’t want sympathy from him, and I didn’t want him prying into my life. “I’m in a hurry, okay?” I started out the door, but he reached for my arm.
“What?” I yelled, jerking away from him. The lone store attendant peered through the side of her therma-glass cubicle. I gave her a halfhearted wave. Last thing I wanted was for her to call the cops. She frowned before going back to her AV game.
“What do you want?” I hissed.
“To get to know you a little better. Okay?”
“I’ve gotta run. Gran’s waiting.”
“Can we talk later?”
“Fine, whatever.” No way would I answer that call.
XII
I’d finally gotten all Gran’s recipe chips loaded into the cook center and was busy cleaning the containers and filling them with ingredients.
Ginnie hadn’t been great in the kitchen. Lots of times she brought food home from the cafeteria where she worked. I’d have given anything to be eating some of that institutional garbage right then, to be laughing with her at the counter.
Ginnie’d never told me the real reason she quit her tier-five job in Chicago to take that tier-two in Cementville. She said it was to be closer to Ed, but I’d always thought there had to be another reason. I guess I’ll never know the answer.