February, 2009

February, 2009

          Josephine Amable, age 25, was driving home one night after a hard day. She broke a nail, her boss had screamed at her and the power had gone out thanks to the damn snowstorm earlier this morning, causing her to loose her documents for the day. The snow didn't make it any easier and her tiny little Camero told her so as it whined as Josephine tried to urge it uphill.

          "C'mon Betsey, only two more miles then we'll be home," Josephine begged. "Please, please, please don't die on me! You already took away my heat and my radio, don't loose your gas yet!" she pounded on the steering wheel as she pressed the accelerator. Betsey groaned. Since Josephine had no children of her own, she named her cars instead.

          Josephine hated kids. She loved her nephews Zack, Jason and Lazarus and her nieces Allegra and Rachael as an aunt should, but she really couldn't stand anyone under the age of fifteen. Josephine wasn't married, either. Men were exactly like children in Josephine's eyes. She wasn't lonely though. She had plenty friends and a dog and a cat but something was missing. Something was always missing.

          Betsey the car made it over the hill and the two miles Josephine had pushed for, wanted and needed to get home. Her little townhouse was waiting for her. She couldn't wait to light a fire and slip into her flannel pajamas with a book and a cup of coffee. Little did Josephine know her plans would soon be thwarted.

*

          Her feet were cold but she felt no pain. She was sure her fingers had turned blue but in the evening moonlight everything was cast in a bluish tinge. She had been walking for one whole night and one whole day but no one offered her a ride or a lodging place. Some people, she realized, aren't as nice as Hannah. She'd been lucky that someone as nice as Hannah had picked her up about a mile from Manticore. Now that she'd left that  Hannah and her nice warm cabin, she was now alone. Only nine and alone. Why didn't anyone give her a second look? She wondered. Where is everyone else? Why did we split up? I should have stayed with them.

          She was hungry. She hadn't eaten anything in two days but snow and her mouth was getting sore from the coldness of it all. Her tongue tingled.

          Something hot to warm my bones, someplace cozy to unfreeze my toes, she rhymed childishly as she walked, dodging stray branches and ominous rocks that might slice open her skin and leave a trail of blood. They would find her that way. She was a child, yet felt so much older. She knew far more than any normal nine-year-old. She knew how to kill a convict with her bare hands. Normal little girls played with dolls, not convicts. Normal little girls had long hair and wore dresses. But she wasn't a normal little girl. Not yet.

*

          Josephine flopped down on her couch in a fit of giggles as her dog covered her face in wet licks. The 7-year-old boxer named Lex had been hers since he was six weeks old. The 2-year-old cat, Samantha, gazed upon Josephine and the dog with a look of haughtiness from her place by the window.

          "C'mon Sam," Josephine urged the calico. Samantha flicked her tail and refused to budge. "You're a silly cat. I'll get you next time."

          Oh, please, Samantha's look told Josephine.

          All though she had her popularity, Josephine pretty much preferred animals to the modern hominid. She had two older sisters, Kelly Ann and Lola. They were a pair of silly airheads—Josephine didn't talk to them a lot and she thought they didn't want to talk to her.

          "That sister of yours all the way out in Wyoming is so antisocial," she overheard Lola's mother-in-law saying.

          I'm not antisocial, Josephine had thought. I just don't like you.

          She got up, her dark red hair flying in her face and straightening her sweater, to go to the kitchen and make herself a bowl of popcorn and some coffee. While the popcorn was heating up, she decided to dig up those flannel pajamas from her drawer. All of a sudden, Lex began whining and crying.

          "What's the matter, you big coward?" Josephine sighed. "You see a rabbit or something?"

          Lex scratched a paw at the back door and barked.

          "Okay, silly. I'll let you out so you can follow whatever you're barking at. You'll see it's nothing." Josephine went from her bedroom to the kitchen where Lex was scratching. Lex hightailed it outside. Josephine shook her head and went back to hunting down her flannels.

*

          The girl was walking quickly now, off the beaten path. She wished to the Blue Lady that she had brought some shoes. Her feet were terribly frozen.

          Suck it up, soldier!

          She held her head a little bit higher, her shoulders a little bit straighter.

          Keep moving! They'll get you!

          She broke into a run, tripping many times.

          You're weak! Weak as all hell! Don't you have any balance, 452?

          A dog. She heard a dog in the distance.

          They found you…you're going back, 452. Nice try.

          Afraid to look back, she kept running. The dog's bark kept getting closer. A faint jingle, jingle, jingle accompanied the bark. A jingle like metal-on-metal.

          Faster, faster!

          She ran as fast as she could. The cold in her feet dissolved, her blood pumping and warming up her muscles. A branch loomed ahead. She jumped…and fell. Her knee twisted under her.

          Weak! Weak, weak, weak, weak, weak. You can't even jump over a branch, 452. What kind of soldier are you? Put her back, she's not done yet.

          She closed her eyes and imagined herself in the arms of the Blue Lady. She was safe. She was warm. She was…bleeding? Her legs were wet. She opened her eyes and saw a dog licking her legs. An ugly, squashed-face dog with pointy ears. Not at all like the angry looking mongrels at Manticore. He was kind of…cute, maybe? She put her hand out, trembling. Oh, no—not now. A seizure was the last thing she needed. The ugly dog barked at her shaking hand. She reached out and held the tag dangling from the dog's neck. She tried to make out the word in the dark.

          "L-L-Lllll…eh….cks…" she stuttered. "Lex."

          He must belong to someone. Someone who isn't you.

          Lex the ugly dog ran off. She got up painfully—her knee was beginning to swell. Limping, she followed him.

*

          Josephine was engrossed in a novel when Lex scratched at the door, wanting to come inside. She really didn't want to get up—she was at a good part. But Lex was insistent. Dog-earing the page, she slid her feet into her slippers and got up.

          "Did you find what you were looking for, you dumb dog?" she said, opening the door. She gasped at what she saw on the stoop. Not just Lex, but a child!

          "H-hi," she said softly. Josephine shivered. She couldn't tell whether this child was male or female, but judging by the eye shape and feminine lips, she thought female. The child had a buzz hair cut, army style. She wore no shoes and only what looked like a hospital gown with sweatpants. She was trembling. She said nothing.

          Josephine bit her lip. She couldn't leave this child.

          "Would you like some warm milk, hon?" Josephine asked the child. At the word milk, the girl nodded. Josephine  stepped aside and noticed the girl's feet were frostbitten. She was trembling more violently than before. Lex ran inside and Josephine closed the door. She poured some milk in a mug and put it in the microwave. She noticed the girl had not yet sat down.

          "You can take a seat if you want," Josephine encouraged. The girl sat stiffly at the kitchen table. The microwave beeped and Josephine took the mug out and handed it to the girl who drank it quickly. Her trembling stopped. Josephine got out a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

          "Would you like some with your milk?" she offered. She opened the bag and handed one to the girl. The girl examined it as if it were a foreign object.

          What little child never saw a cookie before? Josephine thought. "Try one," she urged, sitting beside the girl. "They're good."

          The girl nibbled at the cookie and a small smile spread across her lips. Josephine leaned back and noticed a black smudge on the back of the girl's neck.

          "So," Josephine drummed her fingers on the table. "You got a name, there, kid?"

          The girl nodded.

          "Well? Spit it out—what do they call you?"

          The girl licked a few stray crumbs from her lips, "They call me Max."