From the Blood of Eve
Virgo
Every place had it, some just larger than others, more obvious, closer to 'normal' homes. But it was still a home all the same. The bum on the corner was just as much someone's neighbor as a person with a roof made of something stronger than paper. The prostitutes and drug dealers were honest people making an unmoral or dishonest living. Only their occupational flaws were more obvious than 'normal' peoples' jobs. Children were still children, perhaps cruder, their education gauged on the speed of their thought and speech. Here, just like any wealthier neighborhood, the people were still greedy. Here the people could still die.
Slums, ghettos, projects, the underground... no matter how someone put it, the automatic view of the lifestyle. Even to the inhabitants the place was nasty. But it was all they ever had and- for all but the fated millionth -it would be all they ever would know. No amount of verbiage, no amount of documentaries could ever uncover the reality.
The reality was that it was no place to raise a child.
"Fruhlen!"
Anne smiled and waved. The window she sat at may have once been white back when it was first built in the forgotten history. But now, dirt, pollution and time browned it, curled it, and little by little the pain chipped away as if the house was forever autumn.
Ironic, wasn't it? She had left her homeland because of the economic collapse, she had left in order to start a better life. And here she was, in the bowels of civilization. Newton's theory didn't just apply to physics, it was a scientific explanation of karmic backlash, it seemed. However large and prosperous a city was, the ghettos would become that much harsher and poorer.
"Fruhlen!"
"Mm?" She turned, hands demurely folded in her lap. As malnutrition and underfed as she was, she still saw life calm and treated everyone with the same smile. It wasn't the friendliest, but it didn't lack for warmth. Among many other women she was respected and something about her kept the men from treating her badly.
"Fruhlen, you shouldn't be sitting next to an open window. The dust will be bad for the baby." Karolina said, hands over Anne's.
"Karolina," she said softly, "don't call me that. Call me Anne."
The two had left Germany together on a railway, all the way to Russia. However, because of Western Europe's mass exodus to its sister nation, the Russians herded all those on the train to one that took them to the Far East. But China was too rich for the two women to even travel south through and Korea too wrapped up in their on-going civil war to allow refugees through. SO they stowed away on a trade ship to one of Japan's islands.
In Okinawa there once stood an American base. However after the war in the early 21st century crippled national security, many military personnel were pulled from several overseas bases and the post was left to be populated by the poor and riff raff. Those that included Karolina and Anne.
"I'm not fragile, Karolina." Anne continued, staring out the window, hand idly on her growing stomach. They were lucky to have a room, especially since neither knew any of the language. But the people knew a pregnant woman and all understood how horrible it would be to grow up without a proper home. It was the least they could do to give Anne a room and food, Karolina being her nursemaid.
"The fall is coming, Anne." The other woman said. "You need to take care of yourself."
"I will be fine." She rubbed her unborn child affectionately. "We both will be."
~*~*~*~
No one really knew how Anne had become pregnant, or what even happened to the father. Not even Karolina, who hadn't even realized it until the third month traveling together knew. Anne never said anything about it, never said anything about herself. So eventually, Karolina stopped asking and questions were only echoes in the back of her mind.
Karolina tried hard to find decently respectable work and sometimes people outside the post would take some form of pity on her. She saved all the money and food she could each day and brought it all back for Anne, never taking a portion for herself.
But, every morning, Karolina would wake up to see half of the gathering from the day before next to her.
It wasn't so much that Anne was self-less or considerate, she just abhorred the idea of others just as or even worse off as herself and taking charity from them.
Perhaps Karolina was blind to that, willingly ignoring her flaws. But she wasn't the only one. Her and many others thought Anne to be a saint. She never did anything but sit at the window and everyone loved her. Her soft smiled and each pose of her hands, she played with the children and they never acted up around her. She let the women gather by her chair though she never understood what they were saying. She had a calming effect on all those around her.
But not everyone was so devout.
Karolina had actually returned early for the day, arms laden with the scrounged up food for Anne's dinner and her breakfast that next day. It was, by medical standards, barely enough food for a woman eight and a half months pregnant to survive on. It was actually a surprise that the baby had survived as it was.
Perhaps if Anne had a decent home, had enough to eat, she might have survived. And, though the baby would be born with the same defects as any other unborn exposed to opium, maybe her survival could have changed the course of history.
But, instead Karolina found Anne's cold body laying on the ground, blood and vomit coating over her dirtied mouth. Her skin was sweat encrusted, case flushed and feverish, eyes glazed but glassily calm.
Sobbing, Karolina screamed, pulling Anne's lax body onto her lap. Not far from the pale skin of the inside of her elbow, pinpricked and streaming crimson lay two needles. One was shattered, glass and contents dashed across the floorboards and molted carpeting. The other was empty.
"Who did this to you, Ann?" Karolina sobbed.
Anne looked up at her, voice barely a trembling whisper. "Somebody..." She screamed. It wasn't very loud of a scream, but it seemed to reverberate across the planet, halting all in their tracks.
"Baby..." she said softly. "Baby..."
The drug this... somebody had injected into Anne had sped up the birthing process, her pure body rejecting the venom that spread in her blood and infected her child. Several people had piled into the small room, trying to help the two women, trying to keep others away. Karolina st in the corner, praying and sobbing, unable to watch the bloody mess.
Suddenly the crowd grew silent and the room seemed to darken. Automatically Karolina knew that Anne had passed away. And, in the middle of this, several people gasped and a light- more golden than the brightest sun washed over them in warmth and slowly, the crowd parted, watching Karolina as she stood. And walked towards the center.
In the arms of a tiny, dirty man was a child, pink and streaked red, little body curled together. He didn't cry, but she could see his eyes moving under his puckered lids, as if he could memorize the moment without ever having seen it.
Gently she took the newborn in her arms, surprised at its smallness and fragility.
Without realizing it, she opened her mouth and named him, "Rudy."
~*~*~*~
The base, like most places in Okinawa, was covered in cement and metal and wherever there was the slightest patch of dirt, someone had already staked claim. They didn't have enough money to find a place outside to bury the body, nor did they have anything to burn it with. Karolina was afraid of the idea of staying in the same room as a dead woman, but for three days- until someone convinced a 'land owner' for a free burial -she didn't have a choice. But what frightened her most was when she woke up in the middle of the night, Anne's body lying on the opposite side of the room, covered in her blood stained blanket. And Rudy, lying on his back next to Karolina, watched the body quietly.
Rudy never cried much, never really laughed. But even as a baby, he thrived on the attention newborns got. And even asa newborn, his mind seemed to work faster than children five times his age, coming up with thoughts and ideas, all of which would lead to his ultimate goal.
Because of his young age, Karolina was too worried to leave him with anyone else and couldn't take him to work so the two were forced to live upon the kindness of others until two months had passed. She deemed Rudy old enough and strong enough to go with her to search for jobs, and really, in the long run, his mere presence was a great help. True, she was given less work to do because of a baby, but he also moved many into being more charitable.
For several years Karolina spent, mainly cleaning homes and watching over children. Rudy, mostly left on his own while she worked, quickly picked up many things. He learned both the German and Japanese languages and through him Karolina had a rudimentary understanding of the Oriental tongue. She remembered, in the depths of her memory, being a teacher of some sort at one point. So at every rare chance she got, Karolina taught Rudy- to the best of her ability -all she could with what little materials she had.
It seemed to her that Rudy was a bit slow. He rarely talked, just watched and didn't have any friends if not just for the fact of looking so Western. He had his mother's sharp chin and tiny build, but the deep brown eyes that seemed to suck everything into the void of his mind was that of a stranger's. It frightened her and others how intense they were- two umber-colored black from where no information could leave.
The only way she could ignore that intensity when she had to be alone him was tell him stories: about Germany in a better life, her family, his mother and how Anne had always longed for a better life for her son.
"Don't live such a life, Rudy," Karolina told him. "Do everything you can to leave here."
~*~*~*~
It wasn't the first time Rudy had been in Mr. Wily's house. The man was a westerner- a professor at that -sent by his government to teach embassy children. He took pity on Karolina and Rudy because of his love of children.
But by now Rudy had reached the age of 12 and, although they had only met a few times, Wily knew there was something special about the boy. Rudy ad a special interest in Wily's papers, especially his science papers. Karolina admonished and discouraged it. She had never liked numbers more than to hope that it was enough to have food fore the day and- in her new religion -the manipulation and changing of numbers was a grave sin.
One day, the pipe to the refrigerator had broken, spilling water and coolant all over the floor. Karolina was still cleaning it up when Me. Wily had returned home and insisted on staying until it was clean. Wily refused until she agreed to be paid overtime.
He searched out Rudy, who was standing behind the desk of Mr. Wily's study. Just standing and staring at a picture on his desk. Mr. Wily walked up behind him, seemingly unnoticed to see what the boy was looking at. It was a photo of a young boy, his hair like copper and face never knowing the adversities of hardship.
"Who is that?" Rudy asked, his voice quiet and neutral.
"That," Wily replied, "was my son, Alfred. He died two years ago."
Rudy didn't say anything to that, just stood and stared at the photo. Mr. Wily took that time to observes the papers that sat on his desk in neat little piles created by idle hands. On each piece of paper was small writing, almost like the scribbles were shy of their presence but confident in their purpose.
He shuffled through the papers in amazement. "Did you do this? Rudy?"
"I clean in here." Rudy replied. "Auntie doesn't like here. Here is the number room."
"Number room?"
"She's afraid of numbers. Numbers destroyed her life. She's afraid numbers will hurt me."
"How could numbers do anything like that?"
"Auntie thinks so."
Wily knelt in front of the small boy. "Rudy, numbers can do you no harm. Do you know why?"
He blinked dark eyes, almost as if he were only half-paying attention. "Why?"
Wily held up one of the papers. "Because you can control them. You're stronger than others with numbers. You can control them and with numbers you can control other things, as well."
"How?"
"You have to leave your home. Stay with me and I can show you."
He didn't hesitated, didn't even pause to breathe. "Yes."
~*~*~*~
Regardless, Karolina didn't take it well. One, because she felt that leaving to be taught something that would be potentially dangerous was worse than their current living conditions. Mr. Wily couldn't support three people, even with the pay he earned. That meant that she and Rudy would have to be separated.
"You can't take him from me!" Karolina cried. "I take care of him! I promised over his mother's body to care for him!"
"It is for his future."
"I love him!" Tears streamed over her gaunt cheeks. "He is like my own son! You can't take him away!"
It wasn't that he wanted to be cruel to her, he knew what it was like to lose a family. But, in his mind, it had to be done- for the boy's benefit.
"Forget the child." He said. "He is no longer your concern. Here." He handed her bills from his wallet. "This is payment for the day's work. And to compensate your lose, the embassy guard will give you a bank account. I'll transfer enough money to support you for a few months."
"The child..." she sobbed into the floor. "The child..."
He ignored the woman and held a hand out to Rudy. "Come, Rudy."
He didn't move.
"What's wrong?" Wily asked.
"I want to change my name."
"Oh?" To fully leave this wretched life behind? "To what?"
"Alfred."
Rudy's bluntness caught Wily off guard. For a moment he struggled. But the thought captivated him: to have his back, filled with such promise...
"Very well." He took the boy's hand. "Come, Alfred."
"Yes, Father."
And Karolina was left with only the cold to dry her tears.
Virgo
Every place had it, some just larger than others, more obvious, closer to 'normal' homes. But it was still a home all the same. The bum on the corner was just as much someone's neighbor as a person with a roof made of something stronger than paper. The prostitutes and drug dealers were honest people making an unmoral or dishonest living. Only their occupational flaws were more obvious than 'normal' peoples' jobs. Children were still children, perhaps cruder, their education gauged on the speed of their thought and speech. Here, just like any wealthier neighborhood, the people were still greedy. Here the people could still die.
Slums, ghettos, projects, the underground... no matter how someone put it, the automatic view of the lifestyle. Even to the inhabitants the place was nasty. But it was all they ever had and- for all but the fated millionth -it would be all they ever would know. No amount of verbiage, no amount of documentaries could ever uncover the reality.
The reality was that it was no place to raise a child.
"Fruhlen!"
Anne smiled and waved. The window she sat at may have once been white back when it was first built in the forgotten history. But now, dirt, pollution and time browned it, curled it, and little by little the pain chipped away as if the house was forever autumn.
Ironic, wasn't it? She had left her homeland because of the economic collapse, she had left in order to start a better life. And here she was, in the bowels of civilization. Newton's theory didn't just apply to physics, it was a scientific explanation of karmic backlash, it seemed. However large and prosperous a city was, the ghettos would become that much harsher and poorer.
"Fruhlen!"
"Mm?" She turned, hands demurely folded in her lap. As malnutrition and underfed as she was, she still saw life calm and treated everyone with the same smile. It wasn't the friendliest, but it didn't lack for warmth. Among many other women she was respected and something about her kept the men from treating her badly.
"Fruhlen, you shouldn't be sitting next to an open window. The dust will be bad for the baby." Karolina said, hands over Anne's.
"Karolina," she said softly, "don't call me that. Call me Anne."
The two had left Germany together on a railway, all the way to Russia. However, because of Western Europe's mass exodus to its sister nation, the Russians herded all those on the train to one that took them to the Far East. But China was too rich for the two women to even travel south through and Korea too wrapped up in their on-going civil war to allow refugees through. SO they stowed away on a trade ship to one of Japan's islands.
In Okinawa there once stood an American base. However after the war in the early 21st century crippled national security, many military personnel were pulled from several overseas bases and the post was left to be populated by the poor and riff raff. Those that included Karolina and Anne.
"I'm not fragile, Karolina." Anne continued, staring out the window, hand idly on her growing stomach. They were lucky to have a room, especially since neither knew any of the language. But the people knew a pregnant woman and all understood how horrible it would be to grow up without a proper home. It was the least they could do to give Anne a room and food, Karolina being her nursemaid.
"The fall is coming, Anne." The other woman said. "You need to take care of yourself."
"I will be fine." She rubbed her unborn child affectionately. "We both will be."
~*~*~*~
No one really knew how Anne had become pregnant, or what even happened to the father. Not even Karolina, who hadn't even realized it until the third month traveling together knew. Anne never said anything about it, never said anything about herself. So eventually, Karolina stopped asking and questions were only echoes in the back of her mind.
Karolina tried hard to find decently respectable work and sometimes people outside the post would take some form of pity on her. She saved all the money and food she could each day and brought it all back for Anne, never taking a portion for herself.
But, every morning, Karolina would wake up to see half of the gathering from the day before next to her.
It wasn't so much that Anne was self-less or considerate, she just abhorred the idea of others just as or even worse off as herself and taking charity from them.
Perhaps Karolina was blind to that, willingly ignoring her flaws. But she wasn't the only one. Her and many others thought Anne to be a saint. She never did anything but sit at the window and everyone loved her. Her soft smiled and each pose of her hands, she played with the children and they never acted up around her. She let the women gather by her chair though she never understood what they were saying. She had a calming effect on all those around her.
But not everyone was so devout.
Karolina had actually returned early for the day, arms laden with the scrounged up food for Anne's dinner and her breakfast that next day. It was, by medical standards, barely enough food for a woman eight and a half months pregnant to survive on. It was actually a surprise that the baby had survived as it was.
Perhaps if Anne had a decent home, had enough to eat, she might have survived. And, though the baby would be born with the same defects as any other unborn exposed to opium, maybe her survival could have changed the course of history.
But, instead Karolina found Anne's cold body laying on the ground, blood and vomit coating over her dirtied mouth. Her skin was sweat encrusted, case flushed and feverish, eyes glazed but glassily calm.
Sobbing, Karolina screamed, pulling Anne's lax body onto her lap. Not far from the pale skin of the inside of her elbow, pinpricked and streaming crimson lay two needles. One was shattered, glass and contents dashed across the floorboards and molted carpeting. The other was empty.
"Who did this to you, Ann?" Karolina sobbed.
Anne looked up at her, voice barely a trembling whisper. "Somebody..." She screamed. It wasn't very loud of a scream, but it seemed to reverberate across the planet, halting all in their tracks.
"Baby..." she said softly. "Baby..."
The drug this... somebody had injected into Anne had sped up the birthing process, her pure body rejecting the venom that spread in her blood and infected her child. Several people had piled into the small room, trying to help the two women, trying to keep others away. Karolina st in the corner, praying and sobbing, unable to watch the bloody mess.
Suddenly the crowd grew silent and the room seemed to darken. Automatically Karolina knew that Anne had passed away. And, in the middle of this, several people gasped and a light- more golden than the brightest sun washed over them in warmth and slowly, the crowd parted, watching Karolina as she stood. And walked towards the center.
In the arms of a tiny, dirty man was a child, pink and streaked red, little body curled together. He didn't cry, but she could see his eyes moving under his puckered lids, as if he could memorize the moment without ever having seen it.
Gently she took the newborn in her arms, surprised at its smallness and fragility.
Without realizing it, she opened her mouth and named him, "Rudy."
~*~*~*~
The base, like most places in Okinawa, was covered in cement and metal and wherever there was the slightest patch of dirt, someone had already staked claim. They didn't have enough money to find a place outside to bury the body, nor did they have anything to burn it with. Karolina was afraid of the idea of staying in the same room as a dead woman, but for three days- until someone convinced a 'land owner' for a free burial -she didn't have a choice. But what frightened her most was when she woke up in the middle of the night, Anne's body lying on the opposite side of the room, covered in her blood stained blanket. And Rudy, lying on his back next to Karolina, watched the body quietly.
Rudy never cried much, never really laughed. But even as a baby, he thrived on the attention newborns got. And even asa newborn, his mind seemed to work faster than children five times his age, coming up with thoughts and ideas, all of which would lead to his ultimate goal.
Because of his young age, Karolina was too worried to leave him with anyone else and couldn't take him to work so the two were forced to live upon the kindness of others until two months had passed. She deemed Rudy old enough and strong enough to go with her to search for jobs, and really, in the long run, his mere presence was a great help. True, she was given less work to do because of a baby, but he also moved many into being more charitable.
For several years Karolina spent, mainly cleaning homes and watching over children. Rudy, mostly left on his own while she worked, quickly picked up many things. He learned both the German and Japanese languages and through him Karolina had a rudimentary understanding of the Oriental tongue. She remembered, in the depths of her memory, being a teacher of some sort at one point. So at every rare chance she got, Karolina taught Rudy- to the best of her ability -all she could with what little materials she had.
It seemed to her that Rudy was a bit slow. He rarely talked, just watched and didn't have any friends if not just for the fact of looking so Western. He had his mother's sharp chin and tiny build, but the deep brown eyes that seemed to suck everything into the void of his mind was that of a stranger's. It frightened her and others how intense they were- two umber-colored black from where no information could leave.
The only way she could ignore that intensity when she had to be alone him was tell him stories: about Germany in a better life, her family, his mother and how Anne had always longed for a better life for her son.
"Don't live such a life, Rudy," Karolina told him. "Do everything you can to leave here."
~*~*~*~
It wasn't the first time Rudy had been in Mr. Wily's house. The man was a westerner- a professor at that -sent by his government to teach embassy children. He took pity on Karolina and Rudy because of his love of children.
But by now Rudy had reached the age of 12 and, although they had only met a few times, Wily knew there was something special about the boy. Rudy ad a special interest in Wily's papers, especially his science papers. Karolina admonished and discouraged it. She had never liked numbers more than to hope that it was enough to have food fore the day and- in her new religion -the manipulation and changing of numbers was a grave sin.
One day, the pipe to the refrigerator had broken, spilling water and coolant all over the floor. Karolina was still cleaning it up when Me. Wily had returned home and insisted on staying until it was clean. Wily refused until she agreed to be paid overtime.
He searched out Rudy, who was standing behind the desk of Mr. Wily's study. Just standing and staring at a picture on his desk. Mr. Wily walked up behind him, seemingly unnoticed to see what the boy was looking at. It was a photo of a young boy, his hair like copper and face never knowing the adversities of hardship.
"Who is that?" Rudy asked, his voice quiet and neutral.
"That," Wily replied, "was my son, Alfred. He died two years ago."
Rudy didn't say anything to that, just stood and stared at the photo. Mr. Wily took that time to observes the papers that sat on his desk in neat little piles created by idle hands. On each piece of paper was small writing, almost like the scribbles were shy of their presence but confident in their purpose.
He shuffled through the papers in amazement. "Did you do this? Rudy?"
"I clean in here." Rudy replied. "Auntie doesn't like here. Here is the number room."
"Number room?"
"She's afraid of numbers. Numbers destroyed her life. She's afraid numbers will hurt me."
"How could numbers do anything like that?"
"Auntie thinks so."
Wily knelt in front of the small boy. "Rudy, numbers can do you no harm. Do you know why?"
He blinked dark eyes, almost as if he were only half-paying attention. "Why?"
Wily held up one of the papers. "Because you can control them. You're stronger than others with numbers. You can control them and with numbers you can control other things, as well."
"How?"
"You have to leave your home. Stay with me and I can show you."
He didn't hesitated, didn't even pause to breathe. "Yes."
~*~*~*~
Regardless, Karolina didn't take it well. One, because she felt that leaving to be taught something that would be potentially dangerous was worse than their current living conditions. Mr. Wily couldn't support three people, even with the pay he earned. That meant that she and Rudy would have to be separated.
"You can't take him from me!" Karolina cried. "I take care of him! I promised over his mother's body to care for him!"
"It is for his future."
"I love him!" Tears streamed over her gaunt cheeks. "He is like my own son! You can't take him away!"
It wasn't that he wanted to be cruel to her, he knew what it was like to lose a family. But, in his mind, it had to be done- for the boy's benefit.
"Forget the child." He said. "He is no longer your concern. Here." He handed her bills from his wallet. "This is payment for the day's work. And to compensate your lose, the embassy guard will give you a bank account. I'll transfer enough money to support you for a few months."
"The child..." she sobbed into the floor. "The child..."
He ignored the woman and held a hand out to Rudy. "Come, Rudy."
He didn't move.
"What's wrong?" Wily asked.
"I want to change my name."
"Oh?" To fully leave this wretched life behind? "To what?"
"Alfred."
Rudy's bluntness caught Wily off guard. For a moment he struggled. But the thought captivated him: to have his back, filled with such promise...
"Very well." He took the boy's hand. "Come, Alfred."
"Yes, Father."
And Karolina was left with only the cold to dry her tears.