Authors: Tarah R. Hamilton
“That’s
good. It’s what I was counting on. If he had kept on like that, we would have
been waking up neighbors this time of night. We really don’t want to attract
any attention. Besides, it solves the pain problem for now, and we can get
whatever is in him out without having to worry about him shifting.”
She
talked as she went back to work, holding his leg along the fracture with one
hand and untwisting his ankle with the other, creating a crunching sound, until
she felt it was as close to normal as she could make it. I turned to look at
Job. Now that I knew he wasn’t suffering, I could look at him again.
He
looked so peaceful. Seeing him asleep again, it was hard to imagine that just
minutes ago he had to be held down while we tortured him. I hoped that he could
stay like this for a long time. I didn’t think my stomach or my head could
handle another round of abuse.
Sally
finally stood up, physically exhausted. Job’s leg was propped up on the pillows
Chase had stolen from my room. It was splinted from his knee down around the
bottom of his foot with the two halves of the yard stick, wrapped in the
elastic bandage. Open gaps exposed parts of his bruised leg. His swollen ankle
was still partially angled, but looked ten times better than before she had
started. She removed the gloves she had been wearing and pulled out a new pair,
handing me a pair to put on as well. I already had a lot of his blood on me at
this point, so didn’t see the reason I should wear them. I forgot that this was
not for me, but for him; no reason to expose him to anything that could cause
an infection, after working so hard to prevent one. I didn’t question it out
loud; I just slipped them on, feeling the powder rubbing against my fingers, the
smell of talc hanging in the air.
She
excused Chase from the room, since he was becoming more of a hindrance than a
help at this point. He had used the last of what he could muster up pulling the
sheet, but the mixture of stress and alcohol had affected his small motor
skills, and he was barely able to stand on his own two feet. How he had held on
this long was beyond me. He didn’t even look back as he waddled up the stairs.
I was sure I would find the remains of his binge in the toilet when I got up to
the bathroom – another mess to clean up after him.
Armed
with the remaining towels, bottled water, and gauze, we moved over to Job’s right
side to remove whatever had stopped him from shifting in the first place. Most
of the bleeding had stopped, leaving small trickles that seeped slowly from the
edges. Sally shoved a few towels under his back so that anything dripping could
be caught. Even if it wasn’t a deep cut, it was wide. It extended for about
three inches at a diagonal angle across his side, below his ribs. The copper
piece itself wasn’t nearly as broad. It must have cut through him, leaving
jagged edges, before being left in its final resting place.
I
had a hard time believing that someone so strong could be taken down so easy. I
had watched him carry the box to Chase earlier without strain. His graceful
moves should have prevented him from even succumbing to an attack – yet here he
was, battered and broken, clinging to life by a thread.
Sally,
in her nurse voice, instructed me on our next course of action . “I’m going to
pull it out and try to clean it with water first. If it starts to bleed, and I
hope it does, you’ll need to hold the gauze over the wound and put pressure on
it until I can get some stitches into him.”
I
nodded and was ready for the go. I glanced up at Job again, hoping that he
would sleep through it this time. Except for the slow rising and falling of his
chest, I thought he easily could look dead. I remembered he had promised he
would be okay. It was a useless vow. I wasn’t going to travel to the great
beyond and tell him that I was upset he broke a promise that he probably never
understood.
I
watched Sally use her fingers to push down the torn skin and congealed blood
from the edges of the copper object, making it easier to grasp. As soon as
there was enough exposed, she gripped it between her fingers and pulled it out.
It was no more than a couple inches long in a crude knife shape. She quickly
tossed it aside and used the bottle of water to rinse out the gaping hole that
it left. Rust-colored water rushed down his side, staining the towels under
him. She stopped for a moment, and the hole filled with dark blood. It was my cue
to step in and hold the gauze against the gash, preventing it from flowing too
fast.
Even
through my gloves, I could feel the warm fluid soak through too quickly before
it ran between my fingers and back down his side. I put another piece of gauze
over the first one, pressing even harder, trying to hold the ragged end
together till she could get her needle and thread together; it seeped through
as well, but much slower. I was readying my third piece when she asked me to
pull them back. As I lifted the soaked rags, I looked over to see her hands shaking.
Her calm nerves had become as shattered as mine. This was all too much for the
both of us. I offered to sew him up for her, but the request snapped her back
into reality, and she declined, smiling. That was a relief to me, since I could
barely do a cross stitch and make it look anything like the sample picture. Who
knows what his side would end up looking like when I was through with it.
She
could have fooled me that she had never done this before. She was so quick and
precise with each stitch, and it looked like she had performed this operation a
hundred times over. As each one went in and was pulled tight, the blood flow
was cut off at that point. After the seventh one, it had stopped entirely. She
continued sewing up the shredded edges of the gash, keeping them close to each
other in case one didn’t hold as well as the others. Fifteen in all.
After
she covered it with a large bandage and taped it into place, she stood up and
took a deep breath, looking over what she had accomplished. The whole ordeal was
bittersweet. Sally had successfully repaired his visual injuries, yet there was
the possibility that there were more hidden that we would miss.
The
remaining cuts and bruises seemed superficial in comparison, and didn’t require
stitches or realignment. Most were cleaned out and left as they were so that
they could scab over and heal on their own. The gash over his eye wasn’t deep
enough for stitches, but Sally had butterfly bandages she placed over it, just
in case it was to split again. After we cleaned up the mess of destroyed clothing
and bloodied towels, he looked just as good as he might have if he were in a
hospital – without all the beeping machines and cords hooked up to every part
of his exposed skin. He was resting as easy as could be expected. He would be
left to spend the rest of the night fighting for his life.
For
me, it was a relief to know it was over. All that was left was the matter of
getting him out of my house and returning him to his rightful owner where he
belonged, so I could move on.
Reaching
the top of the stairs, it
felt good to get out of that stuffy
little room for a while. The walled off half of the basement was too small of a
space for so many bodies to occupy at once. There were no windows in there, and
the air could barely reach it. My hands were cramped from squeezing, pressing,
and pushing. I could feel a slow ache in my lower back from being hunched over
for most of the duration. My arms and legs were still sore from the heaving of
a heavy body and the bouncing around, holding him in place. I could only think
of how nice it would be to just lie down in my bed and sleep through tomorrow –
sleep through the next few tomorrows. I had to be up early for morning check
outs and was hoping I could use this as an excuse to Sally to take a day off.
The
kitchen lights were so much brighter than the ones in the basement. Blinking
hard, it took my eyes some time to adjust. My once clean Formica counters were
now lined with empty bottles of water. They would need to go out for recycling,
but for now they could sit there. A trash bag on the floor, filled with towels
and scraps of clothing, sat waiting for trash day. I had tied it up tight to
keep the smell from permeating the house.
In
the living room adjacent to the kitchen, I could see Chase from the back. He had
already made himself comfortable on the couch, with the throw blanket over him.
He had forgotten again to take off his shoes before putting his feet up,
leaving pieces of dead grass and mud stuck to the cushions. As much as I wanted
to smack him in the head and tell him to clean up, I had no energy left to even
raise my voice, let alone my hand. It wasn’t worth the effort. I wanted to sit
down on the soft couch, but for the moment I could relax at the kitchen table.
Sally was right behind me and had the same idea.
“I
just don’t get why someone would do this,” she said. “People still get kicks
out of beating them. They used this so he couldn’t defend himself.”
Sally
held up the knife she had extracted from Job a little more than an hour ago.
She was holding it in a piece of cloth, looking at it intently, like it held
the key to all the questions of the universe.
The
copper dagger was small and crude. Flat along the backside and curved with
small ridges on the front, coming to a very sharp point, it looked like someone
had made it themself. The handle was broken clean off, and could be lying out
in the parking lot or in someone’s pocket, for all we knew. There was no point
in rehashing how he wound up here. I was so tired that I just wanted to get Job
back where he belonged and go to bed. I figured I could use this opportunity
before it got too late.
“Should
I wake Chase up now to help take Job back to the Carter’s,” I said, “or did you
want to just have the two of us do it?”
Sally’s
expression was shocking, to say the least. Nurse Sally had packed up and gone
home, and so did sweet Aunt Sally. The Sally in front of me I had never met.
She had a fierceness in her eyes that I couldn’t ignore. I had no idea why she
had become so enraged, but I knew I was going to find out soon enough.
“Do
you ever think of anyone other than yourself anymore?” she asked. “Are you
really that naive? He almost died and still could, and all you can think about
is how fast you can send him on his way? If Susan knew how you turned out–”
“That
Copperback has nothing to do with my Mom!” I had no idea where this explosion
came from. Usually I would have a slow fuse, but tonight every emotion I went
through gathered together into one big ball of fury and I couldn’t help but
scream back at her. She had no right to drag my mom into any of this.
“Really,
Emily?” she said sarcastically. “He has everything to do with her. And don’t ever
let me hear you call him or any of them that again! It’s a disgusting name.”
She slammed the cloth- wrapped knife down on the table, making everything
shake.
Copperback
was a derogatory name given to them. I used it on occasion, since there was no
love lost on them. It had been created since Sayner, Wisconsin had put up such
a fight about having them named after the town. The bad press they received,
still going on ten years later, was more than they could handle. The new name
was used in passing, but the media still referred to them by the city name.
She
wasn’t backing down. I had no idea what brought this on. It could be her way of
releasing stress, but she picked the wrong time to vent it on me. I was under
the same amount, and past my boiling point for one evening.
“Who
cares what I call him? He doesn’t understand any of us. He can’t even string
two words together. He probably started something with the wrong person.” I
knew I was lying to her. He understood everything I said to him. He even responded
back. He had promised. I didn’t hate him. I just wanted him gone from my home
and out of my life.
“You
still don’t get it, do you? Your mom would have—”
“My
mom should have been here, but she’s not because someone was driving too fast
and couldn’t keep control of the car. My mom is dead because of you! We did
what we could, and like you said the rest is up to him. I don’t care if he has
to sleep outside on the street. I want him out of my house!” It took everything
I had left in me to keep my composure, thinking about my mom. A knot was
forming at the back of my throat, and I swallowed, trying to push it back down.
I crossed my arms as tight to my body as possible, keeping the tears at bay. I
had not just lashed out, but had completely hit below the belt, and it showed.
I
could see she wanted to cry as badly as I did. She tried a few times to talk,
but every time she opened her mouth, she closed it again to rethink what she
was going to say.
“I’m
sorry, sweetie. I’m so sorry you thought that this whole time and didn’t say anything.
Every day, I wish I could bring your mom back. I wish I could have taken her
place. I just can’t let her death be in vain. She had worked so hard for what
she believed in, and I thought you would feel the same way. Please, just give
me a chance to explain? I’ll tell you everything, and if you still want him to
leave, I will help get Job out of the house tonight. Just hear me out?”
She
had dropped the anger, and my sweet Sally was back. I knew I had said some
really hurtful things, but I wasn’t ready to let her back in yet. I would give
her a chance to make her case, but I had already made up my mind.
“Fine.”
I crossed my legs in the wooden chair just to make sure she understood that
even if I had agreed to listen to some story, it wasn’t going to make me feel
better about the current situation. Sally pulled out the chair next to me and
sat, as well. I could see the tears filling her eyes even before she started.
The blow had hit her hard, and she was on the defense.
“I’m
not sure where to start. I guess the beginning is as good a place as any.” She fiddled
with the knife on the table, turning it over and over again. She finally looked
up. “Susan – I mean, your mom – never believed in the Sayners’ slavery. From
day one, she thought it was just a situation of wrong place at the wrong time.
She had always been pretty convinced that if they had come first, instead of
the Vesper, the roles may have reversed themselves. I didn’t agree entirely, but
I was willing to let her think what she wanted.
“Not
like she could do anything about it. Neither of us had a voice in what choices
were made. The only ones who had control were the ones creating cures or lining
the pockets of our government. Even if she tried to fight back, there were
always consequences.”
So
far, she hadn’t told me anything new. That day they had arrived, ten years ago,
I remember hearing my mom say it was unfortunate what happened, but she didn’t
see it as their fault. She never voiced her opinion often after that, and I
never cared enough to ask.
The
Vesper were willing to communicate from day one. They worked with our race to
create New Energy. They had found a way to make ionic combustion possible on Earth.
It had been our idea, but was flawed. They made it possible to use, and put an
end to most of our dependency on fossil fuels. Most people embraced it, but
there were still questions surrounding them and their intentions.
Not
until the leader of them, Nicholas Franklin, showed us how to cure diseases did
they become full-fledged citizens in almost every country around the world.
Franklin took the cure and turned it into a vaccine that could be given to
children ages ten to twenty. The Franklin vaccine was seen as the single greatest
accomplishment of our time, and he was awarded a Nobel Peace Prize.
The
Sayner, on the other hand, had started fights, refused to talk, and acted like
animals that couldn’t be tamed. It was a little hard to swallow how roles could
have been reversed when they caused their own demise.
Sally
continued on, but I was already losing interest in anything she said. I had to
uncross my legs, since the burning in my thighs from the long haul downstairs
was not going away.
“I
was let go from the hospital because I had gone against policy and tried to
help a young Sayner boy. He was just a child. He looked like he couldn’t have
been any more than eight at the time.
“Some
woman had found him in the middle of the street. The copper collar and frayed
ends of a rope were still around his neck where they had dragged him behind a
vehicle.” She stopped for a moment. The pain from the memory still haunted her.
“He wasn’t breathing, and was most likely already dead, but no one even
checked. Most of his skin had been scraped away. As soon as they saw part of
the mark on one of his tattered hands, everyone put down what they were doing
and walked out of the room. I couldn’t just leave him. I stayed and checked for
a pulse. There wasn’t one, and I tried to resuscitate him in the empty room. I
knew it was too late, but I had to try. One of the nurses saw me and reported
me to the chief of staff. I was asked to leave and was given a large sum of
money to keep quiet about it. It wasn’t against the law, but there were groups
out there that would love to get their hands on a story like that and try to
sway the public opinion. I felt wrong about taking it, but after talking to
your mom, she had a good idea of how we could use it to keep helping.”
The
story about the boy had been touching, if nothing else. He was an innocent as
far as I could tell, but that still had nothing to do with adult Sayners that
were murderers, or the one dying in my basement. One child didn’t make me feel
any more for them. Children died every day. It was just the order of things.
I
was about to stop her, but she clearly wasn’t finished. I had told her I would
listen, but it was late, and the longer she talked, the harder it would be to
wake up Chase to cart the body out of the house.
“You
know that we used most of it to renovate the Inn,” she said. “It was a good
investment, but it was a cover for what we had been working on. We had been
trying to find other Sayner slaves. Anytime we found one, we worked out a plan
for months to get them out without being detected. We gave them money and
clothes, and drove them as far as we could to help them escape. We probably
saved three before the accident.”
She
had caught my attention. How was this going on for years and I never knew about
it? My mom had never kept a secret from me my whole life, but this was huge.
They were running an underground railroad, and I had been clueless.
“That
night, your mom was driving. We had already picked up a female Sayner and had
her in the backseat with us. The snow was coming down hard, and we should have
waited for a better time, but your mom insisted it had to be that night. She
wouldn’t slow down, afraid that someone would be following us. The car spun out
of control and hit a tree.”
Sally
seemed to be having trouble going on. The painful memories of the accident she
had hidden so well all these years were bubbling up. She dropped her head,
losing any eye contact. I wanted to press her to go on, but waited for her,
instead.
“I
wish I could tell you she died instantly, but that’s not true either. She
refused to let me call for help until she knew the Sayner woman was far enough
away that she wouldn’t be caught again. That woman helped me get your mom out
of the car and tried to save her. She didn’t want to leave her side. Your mom
died before the paramedics arrived.”
“Did
the woman get away?” I had to ask. After giving her life to set her free, I
would at least hope it wasn’t for nothing.
“No.
About a week later, I read they had discovered her – and killed her.” She
stopped. I waited for her to catch her breath. The tears that she was holding
back had choked her up. “After your mom died, I stopped trying. It was
impossible for me to keep at it when she had always been so strong. I never
could have saved anyone without her. Last week, I overheard Chase talking about
Job. I had already started to set a plan in motion to help him escape. I didn’t
expect him to end up at your doorstep like this. That is why I’m not sending
him back to the Carter’s. I need you to help me, Emily. I need to help him
leave.”
Sally
finished talking, her round cheeks streaked with tears. I wasn’t sure how I was
supposed to feel – if this was to make me feel better. “Does Chase know?”