CHAPTER NINE
News about Mary Stanley has reached Mom by the time I'm home from the beach. Her eyes are so swollen I'm surprised she can see out of them. "Oh, Isabella," she cries when I put my arms around her. "Why do we have to live like this?" I have no answer to that.
Mike turns up an hour later. He can't stop long he says – he'd just come by to say Jess doesn't want to see anyone. The Elders had taken Jack away to be questioned about what he saw through the window which had upset her even more. Of course, I know what Jack saw – Edward's sister, who I've since learned is called Alice. Another unremarkable name, but then I remember Edward said his kind were born human, like me.
Night had fallen before I was able to leave Mom alone with her grief and escape to the sanctuary of my room. Looking through the window at the stars, I'm wondering whether there are more meteorites out there, on course to pummel Earth into oblivion. Should I feel guilty about wishing a tiny one would crash in the middle of Lympi, just to shake the community up a bit? I suppose I should because it would be impossible to imagine the terrible after-effects an impact would leave.
Edward didn't want to expand on the horrors that had befallen the Earth's population following the meteor strikes. He'd been taught Old World history somewhere though, that was obvious. The catastrophe happened - did he say over nine hundred years ago, which meant there must be a timeline of the disaster written down somewhere? Morbid curiosity I know, but I hope I'll learn the whole story one day.
Again sleep is a long way off - too much new information to digest. I understand now why Edward feeds me his knowledge bit by bit. If he told me the Old World's history in one go, I'm sure my brain would explode. Should I take what as he said as the truth? His talk of meteorites causing the catastrophe is plausible, but so is the Elders' story of weapons of war causing calamitous changes to the weather patterns. Do I believe everything Edward says because I have feelings for him, or because through him I can see a route out of the life that's been mapped out for me?
Head and shoulders above everything else is Edward's declaration which I still can't get my head around. When he said that he loved me, my immediate reaction was disbelief that someone like him could love a girl like me. Edward apologized straight after. I suspect he noticed color draining from my face. I certainly could feel that happening. Maybe he was worried I might faint?
"Don't apologize," I replied. "I have feelings for you too, but I've been trying to suppress them. I know there's no way you and I could ever be together so …"
Quick as lightning, Edward moved to sit closer to me.
"Don't ever think never, Bella," he said, grasping my hands. He'd touched my shirt-covered shoulder before. This was the first time I'd felt his skin on mine. Smooth and cold, really cold. If anyone else had touched me without permission I would have pulled away. With Edward though, it felt … right and … natural. His thumbs stroked my hands as he waited for my response. The effect was mesmerizing. I couldn't string two coherent words together while he was doing that. I could feel myself falling into a well of possibilities I'd never considered. A future with Edward? No, that could never happen, I think.
"Don't tempt me with a life you could never deliver, Edward," I managed to mumble when he stopped mesmerizing me.
"I would never do that, Bella."
"So why do you imply never or whatever? I'm human. You're something else that I don't understand. We're too different, Edward."
"I accept that, but I'm also an eternal optimist."
He drew my hands to his mouth then where he kissed them. Warm lips, which surprised me. Closed eyes while his lips lingered surprised me more. What was going through his mind - us being together in that way? I recall feeling young in the presence of someone so much more mature than me, more experienced. That reminded me that I'd never asked the question I intended to. How old is he? I already had some clues …
'A long time ago,' he said when I accused him of not being cut from the same cloth as me. "I was born … a long time ago." How long? Thirty, forty, fifty years? If he was already mature when Gran was taken, that would make him … mid-thirties at least. He doesn't look much older than me though. Would he tell me if I asked?
After he kissed my hands I expected him to ask permission to kiss me properly but he didn't. Maybe he's guarded about intimacy too? Shame. Impeccable manners are an indication of how well he's been brought up. I wonder who adopted him and how old he was when he was given to his new parents.
He also said, 'bad memories' when he lay back on the sand to look up at the sky. I should have asked him 'Bad memories of what?' The catastrophe? No … he can't have been around when that happened. What he meant was that out there beyond the Wastelands, there is still evidence of the disaster.
I'm too tired to think deeply about how the world has changed. However, even with the little I know of the Old World, I'm positive there would be ways that more advantaged people could survive. You only have to look at Edward and his sister to realize that somewhere there's a community that's living extremely well. Their clothes for example give this away. The shiny material Alice's coat was made from comes from no animal or woven fabric I've ever encountered. As I've come to accept, I understand why Edward only discloses information gradually, but the gaps in my knowledge are so frustrating.
Poor Jessica is my next thought. I hope Uncle Michael was able to convince her to take a sleeping drug. Mr Stanley must be bereft too, whether or not he was giving his wife a hard time. The Elders had better be kind to Jack. To take him away when he'd just witnessed his mother being abducted is insensitive to the point of being cruel. Did they remove him before he had a chance to talk to anyone else outside his family about what he saw? I suspect that's the reason why he was whisked away for questioning. They can't erase his memory though.
I'm convinced now that Mary Stanley isn't dead, but what good reason could there be for the Catchers to take her of all people? What I need to do to answer the questions Edward refuses to respond to, is find out more about who has been taken over the years and when. I can attempt then to work out what the link is between them, now that I have evidence that Catchers aren't feral and more than likely don't pick their victims at random. There must be something that ties them together. Maybe finding that out is a project Mike and I could get involved in, although I would have to ensure this would not lead to him finding out about Edward.
With those thoughts in mind, I roll onto my side and imagine Edward lying next to me. Where though? In Lympi, or beyond the Wastelands?
At breakfast, Mom is much brighter. Charlie has agreed without any sort of negotiation to let her use some of our excess credit to purchase good quality wool material for a winter coat. I'm guessing this is either to cheer her up, or he has been imagining how he would feel if Mom had been taken rather than Mary Stanley. Mom would have asked Mary to make the coat for her so she's been cursing the Catcher for that reason as well. I tell her that Jess could probably do just as good a job because she began her tailoring training long before she left school at sixteen. Mom said she would speak to Mr Stanley when the time was right and if he confirmed this, she would ask Jess to source the material and find her a pattern.
When my morning tasks are done, I decide to drive to the clinic to see Mike. Whenever Ranger is out with Charlie, Jupiter has taken to keeping Star company while I'm working, so when I'm leading Star out to the cart, Jupiter follows then jumps up on the seat and plants himself in the spot where I usually sit.
"Ah! It's like this now?" I say to my determined wolfhound. Star doesn't seem to object to the new arrangement. It's only taken two years but it looks like we're a threesome when we go out from now on rather than a duo. I'm thrilled as I admit to feeling lonely sometimes, especially when I'm driving across the wilder parts of the countryside.
Mom smiles and waves through the window as we drive away from the yard. I have to swallow a lump as once again I can imagine how I would feel if my mom had been taken rather than Jess's mom. Poor Jess and Jack. I hope he hasn't been further traumatized by being questioned by the Elders. I wonder whether he'll be allowed to tell anyone what happened to him in the Compound.
Jupiter is having the time of his life as we bounce along the road towards Forks. Now and again he jumps onto the flatbed and runs around in circles before clambering back on the seat next to me. For a giant dog, he's very nimble, and loving, in that I get the occasional nuzzle and face lick. I'm kicking myself now that I didn't ask Edward if he liked dogs. I doubt whether Jupiter will let me go to the beach or anywhere else on my own from now on. I'll just have to put him on a leash.
When I pull up outside the clinic, Aunt Carol is struggling through the door carrying her medical bag in one hand and another bulky bag in the other.
"I can't stop, Bella," she shouts. "Midwife hat on this afternoon. Twins as well."
"Wow! Good luck, Aunt Carol. Is Mike inside?"
"He's in the drug store. There are no patients in the waiting area, so go straight through. No dogs though."
"Sure thing," I respond as Aunt Carol climbs into her pony and trap. Jupiter has understood the 'no dogs' command. He curls up on the bed of the cart and puts his head down to sleep.
Whatever noxious solution is used to keep the clinic clean knocks my head backward when I open the door. Vivid memories of being brought here with a broken finger when I was about eight return each time I come in here and I shudder. The absolute agony while Charlie and Mom held me down while Uncle Michael straightened the finger before strapping it won't ever be forgotten. The pain was indescribable. That smell will always induce a negative reaction as long as I live.
Mike is in the middle of what I guess is a stock check when I open the door. He glances up from his bent position over the counter, smiles, and says, "Shhhh!" I give him the thumbs up and perch on a high wooden stool while he finishes adding up a long column. After some page-turning where I presume he's comparing one set of figures to another, he finally lets out a satisfied sigh.
"Phew! That's done for another month. I hate this part of the job."
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Dad has to submit accounts to the Elders each week listing what drugs have been administered and to whom. We have to record every drop of medicine, every joint rub, every bandage or dressing that's been used or prescribed. They also ask for the names of everyone who's come here for treatment or advice. Mom used to do the prescription record but she's passed that to me now. Dad still does the personal stuff because that's confidential."
"Surely that's none of the Elders' business," I complain.
"I agree," Mike says as he snaps the book shut and slides it into a large folder-type envelope. "That's the way it's always been done though. The Elders want to know everything about us, from the moment we're born to the day we die - unless we're taken by a Catcher that is."
I have to stop myself from repeating what Edward and Alice said. If only I had someone to confide in. Mike would be number one on my list if I ever chose to.
"Lemonade?" Mike offers. I accept eagerly and follow him to the kitchen where there's a jug of Aunt Carol's magnificent homemade concoction. She grows huge numbers of lemons in a vast glass lean-to on the south-facing side of their house. Throughout the summer months and early fall, lucky recipients are treated to this most refreshing of drinks. Mike pours two glasses which he carries to a bench outside where we sit in quiet contemplation while the summery liquid slips down our dry throats.
"What's up?" Mike asks after a while.
"Nothing," I reply, "... but I've been thinking?"
"Oh oh!" Mike sniggers and claps a hand over his face I guess to indicate that he despairs of me. "Why do I suddenly have the feeling that whenever Bella Swan has been thinking, it's not going to be good for me in the long run?" he adds with a grin.
"Yeah, you're probably right. Forget it, Mike."
Knowing Mike as I do, he's not going to let me leave without spilling. Internally, I chuckle.
"Get on with it," he groans. I punch him on the arm.
"I couldn't sleep last night thinking about Jess's mom. What bothers me is why her? Why anybody like her in fact? What I mean is … is there anything about Mary Stanley that would attract her to a Catcher, or that connects her in any way to the others who the Catchers have taken?"
Mike looks at me in surprise. I think I've shocked him.
"Are you implying that the Catchers don't pick their victims at random?"
"I suppose so. My Gran wasn't that old when she disappeared. Mary Stanley had her 40th birthday last year. That patrolman who disappeared about six months ago was in his early sixties. Charlie told me he went out for a walk with his dog and neither of them came back. The Catchers may be taking people for no reason, but has anyone ever looked into whether there could be a link?"
Mike doesn't hesitate with the standard response I had anticipated.
"The Catchers are feral creatures, Bella. They won't be working to any sort of rule book. The whole idea is nuts. What or who put that idea in your head?"
"Nothing and nobody, Mike, but why should we accept the Elders' story that Catchers are feral as the absolute truth? What if they aren't feral? What if they are sophisticated people from the Old World who can enter and leave our community as they wish? What if there are specific reasons why they remove certain people from Lympi? What if …"
"What if what?" Mike cuts in when I hesitate.
"What if they … no, that's absurd."
"Bella?"
"Hold on … let me think something through."
An idea had sprung into my head while I was talking, but thinking about it logically, it couldn't possibly be proved. Unless …"
"Mike, you said you send medical reports to the Elders every week. Do you keep files here on people who have died?"
"No," he answers shaking his head. "A day or two after someone passes away, their records are picked up by someone from the Compound."
"What about those who are taken by the Catchers?"
"Their records go too."
"Would you still have Mary Stanley's file here?"
"Probably not. Whenever someone is taken, the Elders send their people down to collect the record straight away. Why?"
"Rats!"
"Why is that important, Bella."
"When was the last time you saw Mary Stanley?"
"At your party."
"And before that?"
"Here. She came in to see Mom. I don't know why."
"How long ago?"
"Weeks … less than a month. She'd seen her in the month before that as well. She seemed okay to me though, probably woman's problems. That's what most women come to see Mom about."
"Is there any way to find out what was wrong with her?"
"Not without asking Mom but she wouldn't disclose that sort of information. What's all this about, Bella? Are you suggesting the Catchers only kill sick people?"
"I can't be sure, but my gut tells me there'll be a reason like that. Don't ask me how I know, I just have a feeling it's not random. I wish there was a record somewhere of who'd been taken so I could do some investigating."
"For Forks there is. I don't know about the rest of Lympi but I presume it's the same everywhere."
"A record?"
"Yep. Callum's family keep it."
"You mean Callum Smith from the Distribution Center. Why?"
"Because every person in Forks is entitled to a share of what the community produces. When someone dies or disappears suddenly, the Center has to be notified so the basic supplies the family is allocated can be adjusted. Go have a word with Callum's mom if you're that interested."
"I will, but I'll need to have a good reason. I can't just turn up and ask Mrs Smith if I could take a look at her records without raising suspicions, which no doubt would get back to the Elders. I'd have to have a genuine excuse."
I can tell Mike isn't interested in helping me, so we chat for a while about Jess and her reaction when he showed up at the house. Jess was grateful he'd come to see her, but too distraught to say anything else coherently. Mike had stayed until Uncle Michael showed up with the sleeping drugs then left after promising to return after a few days had passed. He didn't know whether Jack had come back from wherever he'd been taken. Like me, Mike thought it was crass insensitivity to take Jack away for questioning so soon after his mother's disappearance.
On the journey back to the farm, I try to think of a good reason to ask Mrs Smith for details about the Catchers' victims. Callum's parents are good people, but they are constantly in touch with the Elders because of their responsibility for running the Distribution Center. Their role is considered to be the most prestigious in the community and my guess is they would be excessively wary about giving up information for no good reason. Ideas come but are dismissed almost immediately. There has to be an innocuous reason that wouldn't raise any suspicions.
We're close to home when Jupiter becomes restless. He's been sniffing the air for the last half mile and twice has let out a low growl. The sun is still high in the sky so I discount an impending animal attack. Star doesn't seem concerned about anything, which gives me a small amount of confidence that nothing sinister is out there. Jupiter growls again, louder this time, just as the sound of a horse approaching from the direction of our farm becomes apparent to my inferior ears.
Seconds later, a familiar brown and white stallion gallops into view. When Jake sees me, he pulls at the reins and slows to a canter. I encourage Star to keep going, but she's already wary. I guess she remembers her previous encounter with the stallion and Jake's hostile encounter with me. Jupiter by now is bristling. He certainly recalls Jake's previous visit even though he was inside the house. His top lip curls while he continues to growl. "No worries, Jupiter," I whisper in his ear. "It's just a dick on a horse."
Jake maneuvers the stallion to block the road. I have no option but to pull up. Even though the air temperature is cool, Jake's attire is a sleeveless vest with shorts that look as though they were full-length pants he'd grown out of. I don't know whether his choice of clothing was selected to show off his bulging arms and thighs to impress me. If it was, he's failed. Muscular men do absolutely nothing for me.
"What's your game?" I shout out.
"Where have you been?" he responds aggressively as the stallion walks toward me. I'm tempted to ride off as the way ahead is now clear but Jake's sense of entitlement needs to be addressed once and for all. Jupiter is snarling now and it takes all my strength to keep hold of his collar to prevent him from lunging at Jake. I'm fuming, so the dick gets the full force of my tongue.
"Where I've been is none of your fucking business, Jacob Black. Now piss off and let me get home."
Jake's mouth drops open. He's never heard me curse before. To be fair, nobody has heard me curse like that before. I've heard grown men use those two words but only when they don't realize 'ladies' are present. I shout at Star to walk on but Jake leans over and makes an attempt to grab the reins. Jupiter has other ideas. He lunges at Jake who just manages to snatch his hand away in time.
"That mutt of yours is out of control," he spits. "I'll take my knife to his throat if he tries that again."
"My dog is here to protect me," I yell back. "The only one out of control here is you. What the heck has gotten into you lately, Jake? You're becoming as much of a bullying asshole as Sam. Now get this into your thick skull for the final time, you and I will never, ever date. Why would I consider spending one second alone with you, never mind a lifetime? Just back off and leave me alone."
Jupiter barks so loudly that the stallion leaps back in fright, almost unseating Jake. I take the opportunity to get Star moving which she does at speed. I know Star's pace is no match for the stallion's so I have to trust that Jupiter will protect me if Jake doesn't give up. All I hear though is Jake shouting after me.
"Don't forget, Bella Swan, I'm watching you."
"Ha! Are you sure about that, Jacob Black," I growl under my breath, "Because if you continue to stalk and harass me, you may end up like Sam, with your feet in the river and your head next to a bloodied rock."
Stop cheering, you lot! I can hear you from just south of London.
So, are the Catchers only taking sick people? A lot of you have guessed this but I'm not saying yet whether you're right or not. Bella will now be determined to find out one way or another.
Thanks so much for all the reviews I've received so far. It has been really enjoyable reading your ideas about where this story is going. Nobody is close yet to guessing why the community is like it is, even though there is one massive clue running through every chapter, especially the first one.
Next chapter, Edward reverts to old habits. (No, he's not going to take a chunk out of Jake - shame though).
Joan x