Starts With One: Chapter IV

IV
Jethro sat at the mealtable, eating his food as slowly as possible to fool himself into thinking he was eating more. He still did not trust Finley, despite the past two weeks with the overseers. So far, most of what he had said had been proven true, but Jethro was still hesitant to believe him in all aspects.
Though he had not had to scratch himself lately, he was still wary towards the sleep. It had admittedly been fading, but he still did not want to let his guard down. He had to stay constantly alert for even the slightest drowsy sensation. It was hard enough t let it come at night. Mr. Finley had called it ‘paranoia’. Jethro didn’t know if he was referring to his constant suspicions or his stubbornness to give in.
But now that the sleep had not come for a while, something else was troubling him. He now had a constant headache, and often found himself unable to sit or stand still. In addition, he could not focus on anything for very long and there was the constant pull of anxiety in the back of his mind, but about what he couldn’t figure out.
But the things that scared him more were the uncontrollable tremors that shook his hands, arms, or legs at any given time, or when he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was afraid to ask Mr. Finley about it in case he terminated him for it, and he didn’t trust the overseers. So he tried to keep his strange symptoms quiet, and desperately tried to control them.
“Why don’t you ever eat, 7C?” asked one of the overseers beside him. He was called 3B. The others shortened one another’s identification numbers to the first two characters.
Jethro ignored him as he always did.
“Quit wasting your time, B. He’s dumb as the others. Dunno why Finley even stuck him with us,” said another, 6A.
Jethro had grown to find comfort in their opinions of him. Firstly, they proved that if he was fooling them, he could very well be fooling the people who were watching him on the cameras. Secondly, as long as he knew what they were thinking about him, good or bad, it was better than having no idea.
“But seriously, 7C. You should eat more. The food’s better here,” urged 3B.
Jethro continued to move his food around on the plate, consuming the tiniest bites ever so often.
“Yeah, 3B,” chimed in 02E, “You’re wasting your time.” 02E was an overseer from a past generation. His hair, unlike Jethro’s, was a reddish blonde, and he stood two inches taller than any of Jethro’s generation.
3B remained near Jethro, though. He was a particularly stubborn one, who refused to believe anything bad about anyone. Jethro had noticed that he often displayed random acts of kindness towards not only his peers, but also the asleep ones in their generation as well. Had Jethro been not quite so paranoid, he decided that he would like 3B.
Jethro stood to empty his tray, picking it up with one hand. The other began shaking visibly, unable to grasp anything. He tried to force it to hold on, smothering the panic that was welling up inside him. Had the others seen? If not, they would soon. His shaking hand did not cease, only trembled even more. Jethro sat down quickly, shoving his hand under the table in desperation.
“What’s wrong?” asked 3B with concern.
Jethro shook his head once, clenching his hand under the table and waiting for the tremors to die down.
“Are you shaking?”
Jethro shook his head again, slightly more sharply than necessary.
A knowing smile flashed on 3B’s face. “Oh, I know what’s going on. Hey, you guys, 7C’s going through withdrawal!”
Jethro froze, mortified. The others all turned to stare at him, and he wondered what 3B meant by withdrawal. It sounded like a horrible word, and Jethro hoped it wasn’t some strange disease that he would be terminated for.
“Withdrawal, eh?” asked 5B.
“Well he’s shaking all over,” noted 3B.
Jethro looked from face to face, surprised to find that they were suddenly not quite as harsh as before. Was ‘withdrawal’ some sort of rite of passage? Jethro became even more confused.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” asked one.
“So glad I’m done with that…”
“Remember when 8D went through it? His was bad.”
“No, 6A’s was worse.”
“Well mine lasted longest.”
“No way. 5B’s was way longer. Except his wasn’t too bad.”
And then suddenly, it wasn’t about Jethro anymore. But at the same time, it was. For once Jethro felt almost…included. He was a part of something. It was a strange feeling, but he found that he really liked it. It made him feel stronger, for some reason. It almost made him want to talk.
But no. It would not be worth termination.
“…6E’s withdrawal was so bad that Mr. Finley took him into past the office for treatment.”
“Yeah,” said 6E, “I saw some amazing things.”
“Like what?” asked 4D dubiously.
6E leaned in, glancing around surreptitiously. Despite himself, Jethro leaned forward, too, straining to hear 4D speak.
“I saw a woman.”
Immediately, a chorus of ‘No way’s and ‘Liar!’s rang out. Most of the overseers were being loud and negative, but Jethro saw a few of them looking just as confused as he was.
He had never heard the word before, but the others acted like it was some sort of mystical being. Perhaps it was a sort of fantasy animal.
“Shhh! Quiet down! I swear I saw one!” protested 6E.
“No you didn’t,” said 02E, “What would a woman be doing here?”
“I don’t know, all I know is that there was one. And I saw it.”
His claim was met with a brief, thoughtful silence. Jethro tried to figure out what a woman was, but was finding it rather difficult. The context clues were not altogether very helpful.
“So what did she look like?” asked 3B.
6E grinned. “Do you really want to know?”
Most of the overseers nodded eagerly despite themselves.
“Well,” he began, voice lowering, “They’re real tiny. Short and skinny, like 7C over there.” This was met with a few chuckles. “I could almost pick one up in my two hands, you know? And they got these teeny tiny little voices, real high too, like a soft scream. And their skin—oh, their skin! It’s the softest thing you ever felt, and you can sink your fingers into it an inch. They got this big wide mouth that takes up half their face, and the other half is their eyes. Their two big black eyes. They’re like nothing I ever seen before.”
Jethro soaked this in, fascinated. From 6E’s description, it did seem like they were pets. He imagined a soft, furry little ball with big eyes and a wide mouth, screeching in its soft-scream. 3B had told him about animals, and about how people used to keep them with them always as pets. Jethro decided that he wanted a woman.
The alarm rang, signaling the start of their shift. Jethro rose, letting 3B take his tray for him; his hands were still shaking. All along the way, he was imagining what other sorts of things that were out there, like women. It was a fascinating concept. Maybe his alien really was out there somewhere.
Throughout the morning, he worked in a thoughtful daze, his mind coming up with all the possibilities. He had not had time to let his mind wander like this for a while. It had been too busy filled with suspicion and mistrust and ways to fool the cameras. So for the day he allowed himself one break from his constant learning and judging and thinking, and for just one day he would go about like he used to, immersed in his imaginings.

Lily’s eyes slowly opened, blinking away the heavy, smothering, slumber. She widened them after seeing no difference, letting them slowly adjust to the dark space. Her shallow breath seemed loud inside the tiny box, and it heightened with her panic. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and then once she did, her panic was replaced with an aching sorrow that made her want the panic back.
Slowly, she lifted her arms, shocked to find how difficult the simple movement was. Her joints creaked like an old woman’s, and the ache that came with it made her wince. How long had she been in here? Her hands ran over her body, and she noted in alarm how skinny she was.
Abruptly, all the sadness she had been suppressing welled up once more, choking her. She let out a faint sob, wanting to curl up but not having enough room in the miniscule compartment.
“Uncle Finley!” she gasped, crying out as loud as she could. She didn’t know where she was, and only too late did she realize she could be somewhere where less kind people could discover her.
So depressed and alone, she suffered in silence, grieving for all she had lost and fighting the truth in her mind. Half the reason why she had begged Finley to sedate her was so that she could escape these overwhelming feelings. She had hoped that they would abate as time went by, but they were just as strong now as ever.
She missed the father she had never known. She missed the comfort in knowing nothing. She missed being alive, or at least going through the motions of life. She missed safety. She missed comfort. She missed what she would likely never have again.
It was hard to cope with not only her losses, but her discoveries, too. Ignorance was so much easier, so much kinder. She had never asked to know what she did. If she could do it all over, she would just live in the constant sedation, being thoughtless but content.
But unfortunately, she did not have that chance. She had to live with the choices she had made, and the ones that had been made for her. She didn’t begrudge Uncle Finley and his actions, for he believed so strongly in them. But sometimes she just wished that he hadn’t ever known about her, or at least not known until it was too late.
“Lily?” a muffled voice said.
“Uncle Finley?” she asked, trying to peer through the air holes he had drilled for her. She didn’t known how he had managed it, what with the ultra-durable material these crates were made out of.
“Are you awake?”
Lily waited before she replied, hoping to compose herself. She heard the crates above her being shoved aside, and then heard the lid loosen. Then light poured in, and Uncle Finley’s face appeared above her.
With the full intention of telling him to put her back to sleep, she inexplicably burst out crying.
“Oh, dear. What’s the matter, child?” Uncle Finley soothed. He helped her sit up and held her in his arms, rocking her gently.
The movement only made her cry harder. She had never had anyone do this to her before, and it was a strange feeling, bordering taboo and an incredible reassurance.
“It’s so hard,” she cried, clinging to him.
“I know, I know,” he said softly. “But we’ll make it through, alright? I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised your father.”
“I never knew my father,” she whispered miserably.
“I know, but he loved you. He loved you more than life,” he said. Although Lily supposed it was supposed to make her feel better, it only made her feel worse. It was just too true. He had loved more than life. He had died for her. A man who had never met her.
“I’m sick of it. Just put me back to sleep again. Please, Uncle Finley,” she begged.
“No,” he said gently, “These feelings will still be here when you wake up again. They’re not going to go away. I’m sorry you woke up early; I know I forgot to give you your daily dosage, but maybe it was for the best. Tell me what’s wrong, Lily.”
She shook her head.
“Come on, child.”
Sniffing miserably, she said, “How long have I been here?”
“A little over a month.”
“How much longer?” Lily whispered.
“Soon. I promise. I have someone who will take care of you soon. He just came around, so it’s still a while off. But I know he’ll come through. I promise you.”
Wiping her eyes, Lily tried to control her shaky breath. “Tell me about him,” she said to distract herself.
“Well, he’s a clever thing,” Uncle Finley began. “He overcame the sedation all by himself. He’d cut his fingers raw on the boxes to keep the sleep away. That’s what he calls it. Then he started to starve himself once he figured out it was coming from the food. He’s a determined one, he is. He’s just now eating again, even though he’s been on clean food for weeks. You guys look like a pair right now, nothing but skin and bones.” Uncle Finley let out a little laugh.
“Why did he want to be free so bad?” she asked halfheartedly, still trying to collect herself.
“I don’t know. Maybe he knew I needed him. You needed him. I just hope he’s up for it. He’s our last chance, and I don’t know what will happen if he fails. Oh, Lily, I know he’ll pull through. That man’s a strong one if I ever saw one. Your father’d be proud of him.”
Her sobs had quieted by now, and she was no longer interested in the topic. It had only been to distract her in the first place. She didn’t want to think about whatever Uncle Finley was planning for her, and how it might involve the man. She didn’t want to think anymore at all.
“Uncle Finley? Can you put me back to sleep now?” she whispered.
He smiled sadly, his skin crinkling around his eyes. “Alright. Sleep well, little Lily. Good dreams.”
She felt the prick of the needle, and her mind began slipping away. Bliss.
Before she fell asleep, she barely muttered one last question.
“What’s a dream?”