Volumes of the Vemreaux Complete Collection: A Dystopian Adventure Trilogy, page 20
“What’s that?” Stephanie asked for some amplification as she pulled a basket of potato wedges and turnips from the fryer.
“The jugglers. I want to see them.”
Stephanie laughed. “I can’t wait to see the Vemreaux on stilts as high as a building. I always secretly want to go up there and push them over, just to see if I can.”
Grettel gasped at the scandalous confession.
The Femreaux laughed again. “I wouldn’t actually do it. But every time I see them walking around like that, I just get the urge, you know?” She dumped the wire container’s fried contents into three napkin-lined woven baskets. “Do you ever feel like that about anything? Like you can see yourself doing something dangerous or bad, but you know you’d never really do it?”
Grettel looked from left to right nervously, as if someone would be there to arrest her upon answering the question. She paused for so long that the Femreaux gave up the hope of occupying their time with a conversation. She hadn’t known or worked with many Waywards personally, and she wondered if they were all this skittish around the Vemreaux.
Grettel surprised Stephanie by leaning forward and answering like she might get caught and thrown in prison with such unruly thoughts. “Sometimes,” Grettel said, her eyes darting around again like a cornered animal. “Sometimes I can see myself knocking over that tray of straws over there. I think about it every day at least once.” Quickly, she held her hands up before the Femreaux could judge her too harshly. “I’ve never ever done it, but,” she looked wistfully at the tall pile of clear straws with red lines down the sides, “I think they’d look pretty all messy on the floor.” She put her hand over her mouth to keep her from speaking anything more outrageous. Grettel hoped that the Femreaux wouldn’t tell on her for it.
Stephanie stared at the girl in confusion for a moment before letting out the loudest laugh she’d permitted in quite a while.
Grettel jumped back at the eruption, but then slowly relaxed and shared in the levity when it died down into a giggle. Tears peppered Stephanie’s cheeks with the joy at hearing such an inoffensive confession.
“You act like you’re talking about committing a murder or something. I’ll tell you what, if you knock over that pile of straws, I’ll help you pick them up so quick that no one will ever know.”
Grettel gasped and shook her head so fast that Stephanie was surprised her eyes did not rattle.
“Go on. I think it’d be good for you.” When Grettel still didn’t look convinced, Stephanie whined. “Oh, come on! I can never do mine in real life. That’ll always be something I think about. But you can do yours and no one’ll get hurt! Please, Grettel? I swear, no one will ever know. We can even put down napkins on the floor so that they won’t have to be thrown out.” This slowed Grettel’s resistance. “Come on! I’d do it myself, but I think it’d be good for you to be a little reckless. It wouldn’t be the same if I did it. I don’t think it would even count.”
Grettel paused in the throes of her existential crisis. The debate in her head was so furious that she feared she might lose her mind if she did not make a decision soon. “You’ll help me pick them up?”
Stephanie nodded vigorously, her black eyes twinkling with glee. “So fast, no one’ll ever know. It’ll be our little secret.”
After another moment’s pause, Grettel finally moved toward the pile, eyeing it with trepidation.
Stephanie practically danced over to the container of napkins and pulled out a few, opening them up and placing them on the ground to make a wide area for Grettel to do her damage.
With trembling fingers, Grettel reached toward the small silver bin they were piled high in, but stopped short of touching it. “In my imagination, it’s really more of an accident,” she explained, her brow furrowed.
“Okay.” Stephanie would not be deterred from the only fun thing that had happened that day. “So, you and I are having a conversation about cute men and we’re talking with our hands a lot. I say something like, ‘Isn’t Baird hot for an A-blood?’ And you say…”
“Um, can we pretend to talk about something else?” Grettel was uncomfortable thinking of the safe and steady man that way.
“Sure. Let’s talk about the sexual tension between him and that blonde waitress. What’s her name?” she asked. Stephanie looked up at the ceiling as if the name might be written up there.
“Elle.” Grettel smiled, her eyes already gearing up to beam her amusement at the new topic. “She’s got a big crush on him,” she confessed, placing a finger across her lips to indicate that it was supposed to be a secret.
“Talk with your hands. Remember, it has to look like an accident.”
“Oh, yeah.” Grettel shook her head. This time spreading her hands wide, she repeated, “Elle’s got a big crush on Baird.”
“How big?” Stephanie pointed to the shiny bin, encouraging Grettel to go for the gold.
“Huge!” Grettel laughed and then sucked in her breath as her hand landed on the silver tray, knocking it to the ground.
Straws flew everywhere, soaring to heights they never imagined possible. Most of the plastic cylinders never even hoped for the independence she granted them, and they fell immediately to the floor with barely a clatter. A few practically jumped out of the bin as if they’d waited since the day they were formed for the chance to fly higher than their lifespan would allow. They all but leapt out into the air, some gracefully, and some spiraling with no thought of control. Each one parted atoms and changed the air current, no matter how unnoticeable. Those brave straws hit the floor, reveling in the reverberation that echoed up their bodies, doing justice to the exuberance they put forth for their once-in-a-lifetime adventure.
The contained pile looked much smaller in the bin than when gravity allowed them to spread out wherever they chose on the floor. The lengthy sticks danced to their freedom, rolling as far out as they could to escape the prison of the silver tray that held them perfectly in place. A few more audacious ones rolled off of the napkin barrier and dared to sully themselves on the floor in their escape for liberty. They coveted each centimeter that belonged, for the moment, only to them.
Grettel squealed in shock, horror and delight as they fell like matchsticks in unruly piles, strewn about at her feet like a pack of cards with no chain of command.
All of a sudden, Grettel felt very tall and powerful. The straws, though they were free, seemed to bow to her and kiss the tops of her shoes for granting them this one moment of liberty. Some were grateful to lay flat in a place other than their silver prison, but others used those around them to stand up almost straight in the air, bragging to the world that they would not be pushed down, crushed to the ground without resistance. Grettel reached below her and lifted one such straw up, examining its beauty. Then she tucked it into the pocket of her apron with dainty hands that never possessed the strength that solitary straw did.
Stephanie did not move to pick up the mess at first because she was so captivated by the striking difference this one act of rebellion had on the submissive girl. Grettel did not look like the same young woman she’d met when she arrived earlier that day. She appeared strong and confident, with an edge of feistiness to her that was unexpected. Stephanie watched as the girl fingered the single straw, holding onto it as a memento of the day. Stephanie knelt not to clean up, but to do the same, carefully choosing a straw that stood erect in the pile of fallen soldiers and placing it in her pocket, as well.
“Oh, the mess!” Grettel exclaimed, snapping out of her reverie and falling to her knees to scoop up the straws in handfuls.
Just like that, the timid girl was back, but Stephanie felt privileged that she was one of the few people in the world who got to see the girl step out boldly for once in her life, if only for a moment.
“That was incredible!” Stephanie squealed as she hurriedly gripped the straws and stashed them back in their place. She moved quickly because the look on Grettel’s face suggested she may succumb to a panic attack at any moment for all the chaos she caused. “Really, amazing! I mean, I don’t really know you, but I’m so proud of you! Who knows? I may follow in your footsteps and kick the stilts out from one of those clowns on Peace Day after all!”
Her giddy grin made Grettel grimace. “No! Don’t do that!” she insisted before she realized that Stephanie was joking. She looked down sheepishly, making sure they’d retrieved all of the straws.
What their searching eyes failed to notice were two rebellious straws hiding underneath the island in the center of the kitchen, waiting for the proper time to escape out into the world.
21
Elle’s Spontaneous Combustion
The bar was packed so tightly that the outdoor area was a relief for the overflow. The evening was a bit colder than most would have preferred, but at the very least, it kept jackets clutched over the bare arms of the scantily clad Femreaux that frequented the place in search of a drink, a dance and possibly a date for the evening.
Joe had a contractor come in that afternoon. The Vemreaux fit the sound system and jukebox with speakers that piped the music to the outdoor dining area. Everyone was impressed with the clarity of the sound. Elle could hear every song perfectly as more and more brandishes were dropped into the slot. Tunes that were much harsher than the government-approved ones brought out the drinker and dancer in nearly every Vemreaux in attendance.
It was almost nine o’clock when Elle noticed the very important Secretary Graham Anders and his one-man entourage walk from their black car slowly toward her, each step taken methodically and purposefully in the direction of the waitress. Just like his posters that hung in shop windows to announce his many accomplishments, Secretary Graham’s smile appeared forced.
The wave of fear that echoed up through her spine like an electric shock was quickly suppressed before it shown in the eyes that caught his. Amidst the many tables that demanded her attention, Elle paused to nod at him, acknowledging the official’s presence. Attempting to ignore him as he walked straight toward her was a wasted effort. Wherever else she tried to look, she found her eyes being drawn back to him in his expensive, hand-crafted black suit with gold trim.
“Eloise Louise Anders?” Secretary Graham inquired when he reached her.
A few diners looked up in surprise, whispering with both fear and excitement that it looked like a Wayward might get taken in for either testing, or for incarceration.
“Sir,” Elle responded briefly, the busyness of the night not allowing for lengthy conversations. “You can sit anywhere that’s open out here, or you can wait for a table inside.”
Each movement she made down to wiping off one of the few vacated tables was watched by the two as they mentally took notes of everything she did. “May we speak to your owner, Eloise Louise Anders?” Secretary Graham asked evenly.
“My owner isn’t here, but Baird speaks for him when he’s gone. He’s inside at the bar.” Her thumb jerked over her shoulder toward the diner behind her. Flashing them a parting smile that suggested more levity than she felt at the moment, she turned her back on them to tend to a not-so-patiently waiting table. Being referred to as “excuse me” or “waitress” did nothing to bolster her self-esteem. She took it all in stride though, knowing that soon enough, the testing would be over, and she could stop the training and the covering for Blue.
As she gathered up orders to turn into Baird and the kitchen, her trepidation changed into curiosity as her eyes fell upon the Secretary of the Militia for the Americas speaking to Baird privately over the bar. Baird was nodding stiffly, as if he did not really want to say yes to the men, but for some reason had to. Elle wondered idly what Baird’s world would be like if he permitted a voice to his own opinions in public. She was surprised when Baird took a business card from the Secretary and abandoned the bar to disappear into the kitchen. Her prying eyes being what they were, Elle decided her orders needed to be personally handed to the cooks, so she entered the kitchen a few steps behind him.
The phone was already pressed to the side of Baird’s grim face as he muttered a rushed message into the mouthpiece. She thought she heard her name and decided to put her tables on hold for the moment and wait for an explanation. She hadn’t eaten in a while, so she took a bite of the sandwich Grettel made for her that she’d only been able to nibble on once in the past two hours.
Once Baird pressed the red button to end the call, his eyes fell on hers. The mixture of dread and resolve was an odd wash on his face, and she did not know what to make of it. “What’s going on?” Elle inquired through her masticated food.
Baird did not answer at first, but only stared. Elle’s unease grew as he sifted through the words he wanted to say, choosing carefully the ones he was required to. “The Secretary of the Militia for the Americas is out at the bar right now.”
“I know. I saw him walk in.”
“Well, he just told me that he’s here for the testing. They’ll collect you tonight and take you with them to Capital City. They’ll bring you back tomorrow before your next shift.” He glanced down at the phone in his hand. “I just have to get the okay from Joe first, who never picks up when I call.”
Elle froze with her bite of sandwich still in her mouth as she processed his words with a wave of nausea.
Grettel gasped, while Stephanie did not understand what was going on.
Without looking at any of the women, Baird spoke. “Stephanie, would you mind taking a break for a few minutes? I need to talk with the girls real quick.”
Stephanie obliged, glancing once more at Grettel for an explanation before exiting out the back door.
When Elle still didn’t make any move to reply, Baird tried to soothe her. “The way Secretary Graham was talking, I think they’re going to try to test the ‘won’t rest until the tyranny is put to an end’ part by making sure that you don’t sleep. Why else would they show up with no warning and take you all night? They’d probably keep you all week if you weren’t owned by Joe. I’m thinking the ones that still live in The Way’ll be kept and observed the whole time.”
“But Baird, I do sleep! And after a day like today, I’ll need to sleep a lot!” As soon as she broke her silence, the words started flowing out of her quickly. She rejected the rest of her sandwich and placed the plate on the counter. Grettel ran over to Elle and hugged her fiercely, trembling for her friend.
With more grace than he usually cared to access, Baird moved to Elle and lifted her hand, detaching Grettel and pulling Elle to him. This contact was very different. The trepidation in his eyes made his arms wrap not around her shoulders, as they usually did during the infrequent times he’d been forced to show affection. Instead, they draped around her waist. The ease with which he held her as he ran his thumb up and down her spine slowly relaxed her posture. He smiled as an involuntary shudder ripped through her.
The apprehension in Baird gave way to a gentler tone than his usual gruff cadence. “Grettel, will you stand outside the door for a minute and keep Blue and Steve out? We need some time.”
Grettel’s mouth fell open, but she quickly obeyed, braving her dread of being in such close contact with the Vemreaux to give Elle her long-awaited moment.
As soon as the door shut behind her, his face moved forward to place his cheek to Elle’s, rubbing the rough stubble against her smooth cheek.
Elle’s breath came in short bursts as her mind raced to verify that this was, in fact, happening. That she hadn’t grown so tired waiting for him to make a move that she was hallucinating the contact. Her fingers rose from her side and brushed across the back of his neck to give him the green light for anything else he wanted to do.
Baird had long pictured this moment, and as he kissed her cheek to gear up for what they both wanted, he savored the softness of her creamy skin. He whispered in her ear, his breath tickling her and causing goosebumps to erupt down her arms. “Do you want something to think about tonight to keep you from falling asleep?” He moved his hand to the back of her hip.
Of all the times Elle had imagined him making his move on her, she always had some witty reply that served as their foreplay. In the reality of being awake and finally in his arms, Elle could scarcely remember her own name as he breathed onto her skin so seductively. Her brain pushed out a muddled sound of affirmation that her mouth garbled.
That was all that Baird needed. Years of unrequited sexual tension came to a climax as his kiss moved to her chin, his fingers tracing her throat, and then finally, at long last, to her patient lips.
Heat washed through them both like a warm river current, never calming as it continued to stir and crash in waves over their bodies. Elle’s lips parted to allow more of the kiss to invade her senses. Her mind flitted so fast over the sensation that she found coherent thought impossible. She let out a soft moan, drawing a throaty rumble from Baird as he deepened the kiss. With no practice, their lips moved in mashed synchronicity. The urgency of their years spent abstaining from such pleasure finally came to an explosive end.
Baird kissed Elle over and over, doing justice to the many times he’d seen himself take her in his strong arms and press her beautiful body to his. She bent to his will easily, molding her limbs around him in ways he wanted, but would never ask for. Her fingers traced the back of his neck, his jaw, his shoulder and his waist. It was as if they had a mind of their own.
Each stroke of Elle’s hand brought a grateful kiss that Baird couldn’t rein in. It was when he pulled away from her mouth to lay urgent kisses on her throat that words found her. “I love you, Baird,” Elle whispered with so much emotion that Baird had to close his eyes.
He wished she hadn’t said it, but there it was, out in the open air, threatening to choke the life out of him as his lips touched on her collarbone. Too many responses rushed past him, making it difficult to pick out the right one. He knew what she wanted to hear, but it simply wasn’t in his nature to say it. Instead, he went for the most he could give her, which was a huge leap for him. “You know you’re the only one I want.”
