Making some headway with Henry, Stella gets an unwanted opportunity to entertain and Daryl drops some knowledge
Daryl left early the next morning for a new assignment. Apparently, he had earned enough trust here that he was now being scheduled for shifts on the guard wall. It was probably to our advantage that he was "in" there, but it left me at loose ends. I couldn't leave because I was waiting for Gabriela to call me down to the infirmary. Unfortunately, there was no telling when that would be because she had to wait until she could get both me and Henry in there without drawing too much attention to what was going on. So until then, I was stuck with Kendra.
I was trying very hard to not seem too antsy, but it was really hard to focus on any one thing. I tried to read, but that didn't work. Then I tried to have Kendra teach me how to knit, but I couldn't retain anything she was trying to show me. Finally, I grabbed my guitar and started noodling around on it. Kendra sat quietly, listening for a little bit and then left, telling me she would be right back. When she returned a few minutes later, she had several other women in tow.
I stopped playing and looked up at her questioningly. "Oh, don't mind us," she said. "Just keep playing." I did, awkwardly at first. It was always uncomfortable for me to have a new audience, but these women all had the same reaction that Kendra did when I played yesterday. It was like they had just discovered something that they thought they had lost long ago.
After I'd played a few songs, I paused to make some adjustments to my guitar. Kendra's famous friend Melinda gushed, "Oh wow, that was so amazing! It just makes me feel so…happy!"
Trish jumped in. "Yeah, I was in kind of a bad mood when I got here, but I feel so much better now!"
"Do you remember 'Hey, Soul Sister?'" Bonnie asked. "That was one of my favorites."
I shook my head, smiling. "Sorry, I don't know that one." As much as I disliked all these women in principle, I had to admit it was really cool to see their reactions. I played for a little bit longer, but their attention began to wander, and they started chatting amongst themselves. Then Trish asked me about where I was in planning our wedding. "Um, what?"
"You mean you haven't set a date or anything yet?" Melinda was incredulous.
"Well, no. We just got engaged a couple of days ago." And I have a lot more important things on my mind right now.
"Oh my God, Louis and I had a date picked out an hour after he proposed!" Kendra giggled. "You let us help you plan it out. We're all experts in the best, most fashionable ideas."
The rest of the ladies started prattling on about what you absolutely had to do to have a great wedding, and just like that, all my goodwill towards them evaporated. My mind quickly wandered to other things, like whether or not I was going to get to see Henry today, and then to my worry that we might end up in the middle of a full-blown revolution if we couldn't get out of here soon. As much as I wanted to help Gabriela and the others, I didn't want to risk the lives of Daryl, Henry or my unborn baby.
Mercifully, there was soon a knock at the door, and I was able to excuse myself for my "counseling" session. Once I reached the infirmary, I knew the drill, so I immediately slipped into the quiet room. A minute later, Henry was there, and once again I had to hold myself back so I wouldn't swallow him up in a hug. Happily, he gave me a brief smile as he sat down in his corner.
We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, while I thought about what to ask him first. I had a million questions, but I didn't want to overwhelm him.
"So what is your job here?" I finally asked.
"They bring in machines and stuff like that, and I take them apart into pieces and sort them into piles. Then someone else comes to get them." He found the piece of string he was working on yesterday and picked up where he left off. A couple more meetings here, and he was going to have that cushion completely unraveled.
What he was doing sounded exactly like the sort of thing the schools had been steering him towards - the things my dad had fought so strongly against - and it made me mad. I tried to keep my voice neutral when I asked, "Do you like it?"
Henry rolled his eyes. "It would be better if I was putting things together. It's boring. It's not even close to being as hard as building a Death Star out of Legos, and I did that a million times."
That made me laugh, despite my anger. "How do you like it here?" I asked him.
"It's OK. It's too dark in the warehouse so it's hard to see what I'm doing, but they won't turn on any more lights because they say it's wasting energy. I get tired of working all the time. And it's boring." Now he had the cushion's fabric pulled apart and was picking at the stuffing inside it. "I have to share a room with someone, and he makes too much noise. He is always talking to me, even when I tell him I don't want to. I really don't like that."
I knew I had to approach my next question delicately. When he was a kid, even the suggestion of a change to his routine could send him into a meltdown. I began carefully, "I love my new home. It's so awesome. I miss it every day I'm gone." I waited to see if Henry was interested in hearing more. He didn't say anything, but I could tell from his posture that he was listening. I told him about the self-storage facility. I emphasized that there were only about thirty people there, and that people could have their own space if they want one. I explained to him how everyone had a job, but if they didn't like it, they could switch to something they liked better. I told him how everyone got paid for their work, and you could use your money to buy things that you wanted, like books, and that you had time every day to just sit and read, if that's what you wanted to do. "It's very peaceful there, and nobody tries to push you around." I stopped talking to give Henry time to process what I told him.
"Do people have cats?" he asked.
Actually people were discouraged from having pets because it was an added burden on our food supply, but I figured a small lie wouldn't hurt here. "Yeah, some do. Why?"
"I'd really like to have a cat," Henry replied.
"Then I'm sure you could have one there." I paused, still treading lightly. "Do you think you might want to leave with me and Daryl when we go?" I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
Henry just shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. There are a lot of zombies out there, though. I really don't like the zombies."
"Yeah, they are pretty terrifying," I admitted. "But Daryl is amazing at killing them. Do you remember that movie Zombieland?" Henry nodded. "Daryl's kinda like Tallahassee in that movie." Then I grinned. "You know, I might even be just a little bit like Wichita."
He laughed, which ranked up there as one of my favorite sounds ever. "Maybe I'd leave with you guys," he said finally.
I decided it was wise not to push him for a firmer answer, as much as I was desperate to hear a definitive yes. Instead, I asked, "You seem so much calmer now. Do big changes not bother you anymore?"
Another shrug. "It made a lot of trouble for Dad and Louie when I would have a fit. People didn't want to let us stay and would send us back out with the zombies. I learned how to stop it. It was easier when I got older."
Henry was seriously one of the most amazing kids I'd ever met. "Wow, Henry, you've really grown up."
He rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Stella, I'm an adult now. I'm eighteen."
Gabriela tapped on the door to signal that it was time to go, and it was just in time because I was on the verge of tears again. I stayed seated, while Henry started towards the door. Then he came back and laid his hand on the top of my head, just for a second. He told me he would see me later and left, and I was a hopeless, bawling mess for the zillionth time since I'd been here.
While I pulled myself together again, Gabriela sat with me and broke the news that she wasn't sure if she could keep getting Henry and I together like this. There were a few people asking some pointed questions of her that she wasn't going to be able to keep deflecting. She did promise that she would think of some other way that we could talk, so I shouldn't worry. Then she asked me, "Are you still up for a mission?"
I nodded my head emphatically, "Absolutely. What can I do?"
"We need to get access to the weapons locker, but there is a combination lock on it. The code changes periodically, and we found out that your brother is the one who chose it this time. We need a list of possible codes so that we can try as many as we can when the opportunity presents itself," Gabriela explained. "It's a long shot to think he might have it written somewhere, but maybe look around the apartment if you have a chance. And you know him best, so you might be able to think of some number sequences that we wouldn't know. You know, significant dates, things like that."
"I'll try my best," I promised. "But after all these years, I feel like I know him even less than when we were kids. He's become someone I don't understand at all."
We heard someone passing by, so Gabriela and I stood up, and she said loudly, "Well, Stella, I hope that our talk was helpful to you."
"It most certainly was. I feel so much better now!" I announced.
I was totally lost in thought when I arrived back at our room. Kendra ambushed me when I came through the door. "Oh my God, I had a great idea!" she crowed.
I blinked a couple of times to try to get my head back to the current moment. Forcing a smile, I asked, "About what?"
"We are going to have a concert tomorrow! And you will play for all of Pegasus!" She clapped her hands excitedly and waited for an equally enthusiastic reaction from me. "You know, something to bring everyone together and refocus them on working for the good of the organization."
The reaction I had to this idea of hers was terror. Like I said before, I wasn't too keen on playing for strangers, much less twelve hundred of them. "Um, well, I don't know…."
"Oh, you have to do it! Think of how good you made me and the girls feel this morning. Imagine how inspired the masses will be when they hear you!" A look of sheer joy came over Kendra's face. "And you can write a theme song for Pegasus! You know, like an anthem or something?"
Oh, this was just getting better and better. "Please tell me you're kidding." There was no way I was doing this.
Kendra was swept away in the brilliance of her plan and was not paying the least bit of attention to my reluctance. "This is going to be so awesome! I told Louis, and he already ran it past Mr. diLeonardo, and they loved the idea. Said it sounded like a real morale-booster." She grabbed a notebook and a pencil. "Wow, there are so many details to take care of before tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow?!" I frantically tried to think if there was any way possible Daryl and I could convince Henry to leave with us tonight so I could avoid what was sure to be a complete fiasco.
"Why wait? Besides, you have all day today to write a new song," she reminded me, like that was eons of time.
I started shaking my head, "Oh, no, no, no. There's just no way-" But Kendra was clearly not listening. She was already absorbed in her plans, heading out the door, mumbling something about finding some ladies to help her with her pep rally. I realized that whether I liked it or not, I was having my debut solo performance in less than twenty-four hours.
0000000
I spent most of the rest of the day in my room, frantically trying to come up with something, anything that could pass for an "anthem." Under the best of circumstances, song-writing didn't come easily to me, and with the added pressure of a rapidly approaching deadline, along with the promise of a thousand people watching, my mind was an absolute blank. Plus, I had decided I didn't want to just write something that was "rah-rah Pegasus." I needed to write a song that sounded supportive of the party line but actually contained a hidden message. So yeah, this was an exercise in futility.
Emerging from my room bleary-eyed to see if there was anything to eat, I found Louie standing in front of the window, looking out on the fields. He glanced over at me when I came in. "You look like hell."
"Thanks." Asshole. "Your wife came up with the brilliant idea to get me up on stage tomorrow for a fucking pep rally. Apparently, she doesn't understand that writing a song is not as easy as planning an assembly for twelve hundred people," I complained. I was picking over the afternoon snack tray that was sent up at three every day, but nothing looked appetizing. "Where the hell is Daryl?" I muttered, glancing at the clock.
"He is working the guard wall," Louie told me. It was apparent from his tone that to him, working the guard wall was on par with taking out the trash. "He seems like he's found his niche there."
I took a deep breath so that I could refrain from punching him in his smug face. "Oh, I'm not surprised," I said breezily. "He's an incredible shot. I've seen him take down four walkers in one move. I have to say, there's not much a woman likes better than a man who's not afraid to get his hands dirty." I gave him a pointed stare and was happy to see that Louie appeared rather miffed by my unsubtle insinuation that he might be something less than a man.
Louie glared at me. Kendra came bustling in, with news of another dinner party that night. I begged off, seeing as I had to get back to my insurmountable task for tomorrow. "How's the song coming?" she asked hopefully.
"Oh, great. Juuust great." My sarcasm was completely lost on her. Thankfully, they left a short time later, and I was very relieved to be left with quiet and privacy to resume my completely impossible mission. I knew I needed to also start thinking about what Gabriela had asked me to do, but I knew there was no way I could think about anything else right now.
Daryl came in later, and one look at my face told him that something was seriously wrong. "What's up? Are you OK? Is somethin' wrong with th' baby?" he demanded.
"They are having a concert tomorrow for the whole compound, and guess who gets the top billing?" I moaned.
"Wait, they're doin' what?" He shot me a look of complete disbelief.
"You heard me. They're putting on a fucking pep rally for the goddamn company. Kendra and her buddies heard me play today, and they thought it would be 'just the thing' to 'inspire the masses.'" I rubbed my eyes in frustration and sighed violently.
"You're gonna give yourself a hand cramp with all those air quotes." Daryl tried to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, you got roped into it, darlin'."
I told him that not only did I have to perform, but I had to have an original song, too. I explained that I was trying to write something that, on the surface, would sound like what the executives wanted while a secret subversive message was hidden underneath.
That seemed to worry Daryl slightly. "Maybe you should leave stirrin' shit up to the others. Don't want somethin' to happen to ya before we can get the hell outta here."
I sighed again. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, love. I've got absolutely no ideas anyway. This is going to be awful. How the hell am I going to get up there in front of all those people?"
Daryl just shook his head at that and told me that I'd be fine. "You're a natural up on stage. Just imagine your playin' for everyone from back home." I appreciated the sentiment, but I didn't believe for a second that would work. I picked up my guitar again, but he held out his palm for me to hand it over. Directing me to sit on the floor in front of him, he straddled me with his legs and began to dig into the muscles of my shoulders, which were as tightly wound right about then as my guitar strings. He worked on me quietly for a few minutes, listening to my alternating oohs and groans. "Gabriela an' her crew are gettin' a regular Russian revolution goin' here," he commented.
"What do you mean?" I hadn't figured Daryl to be a history buff. I tried to recall my European history class, but college was a whole lifetime ago now. Besides, I was always a science geek, so I admittedly didn't pay a whole lot of attention to any other subject.
"Well, Marx's original idea was that the workers, kinda like the ones in the basement here, would eventually get fed up and overthrow th' ruling class, who would be the guys on this floor. He thought if the common folks were leadin' the revolt, society would re-form around their int'rests. But during the Russian revolution, the middle class folks thought they'd try an' speed things up a lil bit, just to get the ball rollin', I guess." Daryl found an especially knotted muscle, and worked on it with both hands. It was agonizing and incredibly delightful at the same time. "Which is exactly what's happenin' here."
I was speechless at the knowledge he'd just dropped, and I turned around to stare at him. "How did I not know you were a master of history?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "Never came up."
"Wanna lay some of that Russian revolution shit on my brother? Show him who's actually the ignorant one around here," I said with a grin. Thinking back a minute about what he'd told me, I asked, "So what's the problem with Gabriela's group getting the ball rolling here, like you said?"
Daryl fixed me with a sober look. "'Member how well the Russian revolution turned out?"
