Marie's Journey (Ginecean Chronicles) (6 page)

“Do you mind if I join you?” Verena was looking at her, peeking between the carefully laced limbs of the tree.

Marie blinked once and tried to smile. “Come inside.” She moved on the cushion to free some space.

“Sorry I haven’t been great company lately.” Verena sat, graciously folding her long legs beneath her.

Marie liked that trait in her. Verena managed to be elegant despite her statuesque size and she was a nice person. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”

“I wonder how she’s doing.” Verena shifted on the cushion, her hand curling up one of her long locks, her fingers rolling her dark hair in a tight coil.

“Can you talk to her?” Marie didn’t want to talk about Carnia, but the look in her friend’s eyes said she needed to.

“Not the first three months. They’re kept in isolation and tested.”

“Tested?” Marie felt uncomfortable.

Verena nodded, her eyes suddenly distant. “If she’s lucky, she’ll prove to be difficult.”

“What do you mean?” The uneasiness evolved into fear of hearing the answer. She had heard rumors.

“At the factories, they don’t have time to waste with girls who don’t prove to be fertile right away.”

“What happen to those girls?”

“It’s said they’re discarded.”

“Waste plants?” A sudden gust of wind reached them under the safety of the tree’s branches and Marie shivered.

Verena shrugged. “I guess.”

Although Marie had been taught that ending in a waste plant was a better fate than serving as a
mother
, she wasn’t sure Carnia would be happy. “She’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” She didn’t have a clue of what she was talking about, but she felt the need to reassure Verena once more. The wind shook the branches with more strength and the whole green umbrella swayed under the assault. Something darted at the corner of Marie’s eye and she automatically turned right, only to see Grant stepping back into the shadows of the corner.
He was listening.
Her heart skipped a beat.

“What was it?” Verena tilted her head and Marie rearranged her body in a useless attempt at hiding Grant’s presence when he was probably already gone.

“Nothing.”

“A cat, probably.”

Marie wished she were alone. “Yes, a cat.”
He wants to know about Carnia
. She felt her stomach contract.

“Are you okay?” Verena had already forgotten the cat, worriedly staring at Marie.

“I must’ve eaten too fast.” With a swift touch of her fingers, she pushed the untouched bread and olives behind her. “It’s getting cold.” She massaged her arms to reinforce her statement. “Let’s go inside.”

Verena followed her back to their room. Much to Marie’s disappointment, it was soon evident Verena was in a chatty mood, whereas Marie would’ve preferred silence and solitude. She sat on the desk, her body uncomfortably angled toward the window, her eyes trying to locate the mulberry tree four floors below. Darkness had already claimed the courtyard, but she kept looking downward, hoping against hope to see Grant. A sudden shift in light made her glue her face to the windowpane.

“You’re acting strange.” Verena stopped folding the pile of clothes on the bed and walked to the desk, leaning to peer over Marie’s shoulders. “The moon’s so pretty tonight.”

Marie raised her eyes to the sky, saw the full moon illuminating the roofs, and wished the light could reach the dark courtyard, but the buildings facing Redfarm were tall and stole the moonlight for themselves. The flickering light she had seen a moment ago was already lost under the canopy of the tall trees Madame Lana was proud of. She squinted, hoping to see the light reemerge between one swaying branch and another, but the wind had simmered to a gentle breeze and nothing moved.

Suddenly, a gnawing longing to be needed assailed Marie. It must have shown on her face because Verena hugged her.

“You still miss her.” Verena released her to look into her eyes. “Idra,” she explained when Marie looked back, puzzled by her statement.

“How do you know about her?” But Marie had an idea of how her roommate would know Idra’s name.

“You talk in your sleep. A lot.”

Marie flushed.

“Don’t be ashamed. I had a sweetheart before coming here. Had to leave her behind too.” Verena tilted her head to mimic Marie’s position. “I liked her, but I was young and she was young.”

“What about her?”

“Haven’t heard from her in years. She’s pretty. I’m sure she found someone who makes her happy.”

“Do you ever think that if you hadn’t left, you’d be together now?” Marie walked to the bed to put some personal space between her and Verena, sat on the edge, and hugged herself.

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t be crying after a girl who’ll never look at me twice. I think I’d be happy.” Verena sighed and sat on the bed, back to back with Marie “I know I’d be happier.”

Marie couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she heard the sadness in her voice. Her hand traveled on the duvet, looking for Verena’s.

Verena squeezed back. “I’m telling you this so you know life goes on. A month from now, or maybe two, this pain you’re feeling when you think of her will lessen and it will disappear altogether.”

Marie changed position to take Verena in her arms and cradled her.
You’re lying. It doesn’t get any better, does it?
She caressed her friend’s head, following the cascade of hair down to the bed. “You’ll be happy.”

“Thank you.” Verena sniffed again, and from the tone of her voice, Marie understood she didn’t believe her.

They stayed silent for a while and then retired for the night in their respective beds. Marie closed her eyes, and the last thing she thought before finally falling asleep was that someone was still pining over Carnia. And she didn’t like it.
A man shouldn’t even dare thinking about a woman
. She rationalized her distress over the situation.
It isn’t natural.

Two months later, Marie had found a boring, although not completely unpleasant, rhythm in her daily chores. She still was nothing more than a scullery maid, but a growing familiarity with the other girls helped a great deal in making her judge Redfarm with different eyes—with the exception of those situations where the farm rector was involved.

“When you’re done with your kitchen duty, come up to the infirmary.” Madame Lana had graced the kitchen with one of her unexpected and unwelcomed visits. Now, she was staring at a dumbfounded Marie, who should’ve known better by now and acted smart before the rector. Instead, Marie was silently praying to have understood the order correctly. “Are you deaf?”

“I apologize, madam.” Marie bowed her head low. “I’m just too happy for—”

Madame Lana raised her bony hand to stop her in midsentence. “There’s no opportunity yet. First, you must prove I need you out of the kitchen.”

“Thank you, thank you—”

Madame Lana’s fingers came dangerously close to Marie’s moving lips, but thankfully stopped before making contact. Marie inadvertently stepped back to avoid being touched by the rector’s cold hand and realized she had probably offended her. Something flickered behind the woman’s eyes, something as cold as her skin. “Finish what you’re doing and go upstairs.” She barked several orders and then left the kitchen followed by two unlucky girls who were responsible for having poured one teaspoon of sugar too many in her coffee.

The chef smiled a sad smile Marie’s way and she shivered. Chef had just treated the two crying girls with the same show of affection. “I’m going to train as a nurse,” Marie said out loud to test how the idea sounded once worded.

“The doctor needs a replacement for Carnia, but so far nobody has passed the first two weeks.” Chef shrugged as if she didn’t like to be the bearer of bad news. “Two full months have passed already since Carnia left and the infirmary doesn’t have a full staff yet. Madame Lana—”

“But
she
’s not there often, is she?” Marie had the presence of mind of lowering her voice and avoided mentioning Madame Lana directly.

Chef covered her mouth with her beefy hand to muffle her words. “She’s everywhere at Redfarm. Lately, she’s driving everybody crazy.” Everybody in the kitchen had heard, judging from the coughing and the unnecessary stirring of wooden ladles inside empty pots. “Don’t worry with peeling the rest of the potatoes. Go wash yourself clean.”

Marie thanked the chef but hesitated. All of a sudden, the idea of leaving the kitchen—the place she had despised wholeheartedly until a minute ago—didn’t sound as promising as she had fantasized so many times in the last three months.

“Go, don’t make her wait.”

“But she was adamant about me finishing my chores…” Marie felt like a child digging her heels on the ground.

“You don’t know her like I do. Go scrub your skin until it’s squeaky clean and don’t forget to wear a pinafore over your dress.” Chef walked her out, gently pushing her along. “Remember, listen to her, nod, and never contradict Madame Lana.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks, ma’am.” Marie found herself unwillingly thrown out of the kitchen.

“Don’t waste time, child.” Chef’s words echoed in the hallway and several elders passing by raised their collective brows to stare at Marie. She was on the second floor when running steps reached her.

“Is it true? You got out of potato duty?” Verena jumped on the step before Marie, forcing her to stop. “It’s true, then. How did you manage?” Something resembling a mix of awe and mischievousness colored the girl’s face.

“You’re pretty when you think the worst about friends.” Marie couldn’t help but smile. “From what I understand, I didn’t exactly win a prize.”

“You hate the kitchen.” Verena moved out of the way and they both resumed climbing toward the fourth floor.

“Not sure I’m going to like the infirmary any better.” Once again, she felt childish.

“Madame Lana’s been particularly a pain in the—”

“Nothing better to do, apprentice?” An elder appeared from behind.

“I was sent to retrieve a sweater for Darlene.”

Marie was proud of her friend. Verena didn’t lower her eyes when she talked back to the haughty elder.

“Well, don’t be wasting time. Go.”

As the elder passed them, Verena raised her fingers in an obscene gesture while whispering, “Hope Captain Callista makes your day hell.”

 Marie almost choked but managed to keep quiet.

Verena winked at her. “Remember, nod to Madame—”

Marie stopped her. “I know the drill. Now run before
you
get in trouble.” She saw Verena hurrying upstairs, wondering if she had told the truth about fetching stuff for Darlene. Verena’s sentiments for the harpy hadn’t dimmed. If nothing else, she hadn’t missed a single occasion to be within an earshot from the elder. Marie didn’t like to see her friend suffering for someone so vain and shallow. On one of those endless Samarian nights, she even joked about them getting together if nobody else would have them in five years. Verena had smiled and said it was a good plan.

She entered the infirmary a good hour later—she had wasted time on a long shower and precious minutes she hadn’t had to comb her hair. After long, wistful looks in the mirror, she opted to tie her wispy mane out of the way in a long, elaborate braid.

“How long does it take to peel a bag of potatoes?” Madame Lana gestured for her to close the door and approach a long table full of numbered packages. “Take one and go to the men’s infirmary to help the nurses.”

Marie forgot both Chef’s and Verena’s suggestions and she did exactly what she had been told to avoid doing. “But… but I thought I was needed here. I thought I was going to finally start training as a nurse—”

“You must be kidding! Would you believe this one?” Madame Lana asked three nurses who hurried to scamper out of the way. “Tora!” The rector stormed outside as was her habit. Her minions normally ended what she started.

One of the three women came forth and gave Marie a pitiful look. “At Redfarm we never allow nurses to start training on women first. You must prove useful.”

For the second time, Marie couldn’t believe her ears. The first shock she had received once Carnia had told her she was expected in the kitchen, and now this. “But—you can’t be serious… I mean, no disrespect, but is it truly necessary I train on men?” She was so upset she had forgotten her place.

“You better thank the Heavens we’re understaffed. Otherwise I’d kick you back to the kitchen.” Tora gave her a cold stare.

Marie knew there was no way to change the situation, so she took the package the woman was not so gently pushing into her arms.

Tora rotated her index finger to let Marie know she was to turn on her heels and leave. “Three floors down, under the cellars.”

Marie did as she was told, dragging her feet down the stairs and dreading the moment she had to enter the men’s infirmary.
If only Madame Carla knew… She would be so mad that one of her girls is being sent to work on men.
Her mind heavy with clouded thoughts, she descended toward her destination, noticing how darker, more humid, and narrower the flight of stairs became. She could barely contain her rage when she knocked on the door, fist trembling.
Madame Carla would’ve never, ever allowed this… this…
Tears stinging in her eyes, she knocked a second time when nobody answered.

“Come in!” a voice called, muffled by the walls.

Marie gingerly opened the door and peered inside, not sure what to expect. The men’s infirmary looked like any other and that surprised her greatly. The space was large, illuminated by artificial light, and seemingly clean in stark contrast with the dampness of the stairs. Three rows of narrow beds lined the room, each numbered with a rectangular plaque at the foot. Several were occupied by workers either sleeping or waiting to be checked by the only woman present, who was busily moving from one bed to the other. Overall, a sense of calm pervaded the place, and that surprised Marie even more. Her attention was directed toward the thirty-something brunette with short tresses and a curvaceous body, who made a summoning sound without looking at her. Expecting directions, she walked closer to the woman who exuded an air of command.

“Don scrubs. Wear gloves. Start changing the dressings on bed one.” The brunette was busy stitching a large gash on a man’s forearm. She raised her dark eyes from the wound to give an immobile Marie a puzzled look. “You know how to do that, right?”

Marie, dazzled by the sight, shook her head slowly. The man was in pain and his face was white, but he was stoically suffering the treatment. Blood gushed from the jarred wound and the brunette swiftly cleaned it with a white cloth she immediately discarded inside a bin at her feet.

“What are you doing here, then?” The brunette’s mood was changing before Marie’s eyes.

“I thought I was going to train as a nurse?” She automatically stepped back, almost eager to be sent back to peeling potatoes.

The man under the brunette’s care moaned in pain as she threaded the needle in and out of his skin. “I’m sorry, but it’s better this way. The longer it takes the more painful it is for you.” She patted his arm in a display of tenderness Marie found out of place. “The rector sent me another useless, snotty girl,” the brunette said under her breath, but loud enough to be heard. The man smiled through thin, bloodless lips.

Marie had already reached the door and was, for once, looking longingly at the darkness of the stairs when the brunette called her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I thought—” Sweat freezing on her forehead, Marie understood she wasn’t getting away from that job.

“Do you want to start training or not?” The brunette gave a good look at her handiwork and applied two more stiches. “Better?” she asked the man, who nodded in response. “Good.”

“I’d like to train.” Marie couldn’t believe her eyes and her ears. The woman was so attentive to the man’s needs and he wasn’t afraid of her.

“Then you’ll train all right.” The brunette showed her the cubicle where the scrubs and the gloves were stacked in two neat piles. “You’ll learn more here than anywhere else.” She had finished with the man and gently helped him to sit on a nearby bed. “I’m Doctor Rane. But you can call me by my name. No need for formality around here. It’s going to be just you and me, anyway. What’s your name?”

“Marie.”

“Nice meeting you, Marie.” Rane removed her gloves, discarded them, and offered Marie her hand. “Today, you’ll help me with some chores to get you accustomed to what we do here. In a day or two, you’ll know if it’s for you or not.” Rane smiled a beautiful, all white-teeth smile.

Marie wondered if the doctor was temperamental or menstrual. Either way, she wasn’t sure she was going to like working with her in such a confined space.

“Come here. I’ll show you how to properly dress a wound.” Rane made a sign to join her at bed number one, where a man was soundly sleeping. “Time for your medication,” she whispered, leaning toward the blond head.

The head whispered back, “Okay.”

“What do you need me to do?” Marie saw the cart with medicines parked by the bed and remembered the bulgy envelope Tora had given her four floors up and an entire universe apart. She proffered the package to Rane, hoping she knew what to do with it.

“Thanks, we go through more first-aid kits than I can count.” She took the package from Marie and tore the seal. “Good, I needed some penicillin and I can always use the tincture of iodine. You wouldn’t believe the condition these men arrive in. Sometimes, I don’t understand the way pure breeds use them.”

Marie didn’t understand where Rane’s speech was going and didn’t want to know. She didn’t find her words appropriate, but she was smart enough to keep her thoughts to herself.

“The patient needs his wound cleaned and dressed with clean gauzes.” Rane put together what was needed for the task and then passed the tray to Marie. “You must come close if you want to learn anything.”

Marie felt Rane’s disapproving look and hurried to join her at the head of the bed where a blond mane was slowly moving as if its owner were waking from deep sleep, although he had answered Rane a few seconds ago.

“He’s heavily sedated. Don’t worry. He isn’t going to bite.” Rane beckoned her closer still and Marie obliged fearfully, worrying she was never going to please the woman.

“What happened to him?” Marie could see bandages on his naked arms and shoulders. Someone had carefully tucked linens around the rest of his body.

Rane answered her question by gently peeling the linen down to the man’s abdomen. Then with equal gentleness, she raised the hem of his undershirt and uncovered his torso. She moved him to his right side where a bloodied bandage covered a big portion of the upper body. She removed the dressing to show what lay beneath. Two wide, angry-red marks marred his already-ruined skin. “They treat them like animals and then pretend they work again the morning after.”

Again, Marie didn’t ask who “they” were. She had already decided it was safer to let the woman mumble her heretic thoughts and pretend she hadn’t heard or understood. The aftermath of the recent whipping sickened Marie and she had to avert her gaze. She remembered how a slap she had once received on her face had stung and wondered how much a whipping that had cut the skin in two long gashes would hurt.

“Pass me the peroxide. I’m worried it’s going to get infected.” Rane pointed to a small plastic bottle on the tray she had given Marie, which she promptly opened and handed to her.

Marie didn’t expect the reaction of the transparent disinfectant once poured on the wounds. The peroxide sizzled on contact, forming white foam that engulfed the red wounds. “Good,” Rane said and Marie shivered at the same time the blond head thrashed side to side.

“Keep him in place,” Rane ordered, filling the gashes with the peroxide and dabbing at the liquid as she poured with a steady hand.

Marie applied all her weight on the man’s shoulders to stop his frenzied rocking and ended with her face close to his. She heard him swearing softly, and when his eyes fluttered open for one brief moment, she was surprised by two bright-green lights staring back at her.
Dear Goddess, it’s Grant!
She recoiled from the shock. The wounded back, his deep gashes… The whole picture seemed uglier than a moment earlier and she had to repress a gasp.