69
ATTICUS & (THAIS)
Thais and I had our own tent for the night; Edith and Ossie had given us theirs. It was tall and spacious like the medical tent I had woken up in, with a high cloth ceiling and thick cloth walls that moved when the breeze hit them. A single lantern gave the space light, just enough we could see each other’s faces as we lay next to one another, Thais curled up in my arms; two thick blankets beneath us kept us off the hard ground.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get to Shreveport?” Thais asked.
I thought on it a moment, watching the shadow from the lantern flame dancing largely against the wall.
“I’m going to lift you into my arms and carry you over the threshold.” A wave of heat covered my face; I felt embarrassed saying such things—meant it absolutely, but felt uncomfortable saying it out loud.
(I saw the red in his face. I smiled, and kissed his lips.)
“What about you?” I asked her.
“Well, first I’m gonna be carried over the threshold,” she said playfully, and she poked my chest with her knuckles. “And then I’m going to fall to my knees and kiss the ground. Atticus, it’s been such a long journey—feels like a lifetime we’ve been out there. It’s going to be…surreal when we’re finally there. I…well, I wonder if I’m even going to believe it right away.”
“Me too,” I said, and tightened my arms around her.
“I hope the people are as good and kind as my mind has made them out to be,” Thais added. “It will be the biggest letdown of my life, if they turn out like Lexington or Paducah.” She laid on her back, and looked up at the ceiling, seemingly lost in thought. “But just being good and kind isn’t enough, is it? The world has never really been without good. It’s just that the bad always seems to outweigh it. The scales have always been tipped in the wrong direction. And it’ll always be that way until…well, I guess until enough people rise up and change it.”
I stroked her hair, looked up at the ceiling with her; I was uncomfortable with where the conversation seemed to be going—because it took her away from me—but I would never tell her that, or show my discomfort, because it was increasingly important to her, and that was what mattered most.
Instead of changing the subject, like part of me wanted to do, I stoked it.
“Why do you think it’s so hard?” I asked. “I mean, for the scales to tip in the other direction?”
Thais looked at me, her head laid atop my arm.
THAIS
“Fear,” I answered. “It’s always been about fear. Fear of persecution. Fear of torture. Fear of losing everything one owns. Fear of death.” I paused, letting the nightmarish memory of the mass grave pass through my mind. “Fear is, and always has been, Evil’s most effective tool.”
I broke off then; I had wanted to say more; I had wanted to lay out all of my thoughts and my beliefs for Atticus to hear, but tonight was not the night for that. It was my wedding night! My face broke into a smile then, and I rolled over, and sat upright next to Atticus, looked down at him, my hair loose around my covered shoulders. “Enough of that stuff,” I told him, a suggestive smile at one corner of my mouth. “We just got married, and I want to give you something.”
Atticus’ left eyebrow hitched up.
“Oh?” he asked.
I grinned, and coiled my fingers around the hem of my dress and then I slipped it over my head. I straddled his lap naked, though he was still clothed, and I leaned over him and slipped my tongue into his mouth, and below I moved my body against his, felt him growing harder beneath me.
“Thought you were worried I’d hurt myself,” he reminded me when the kiss broke.
I reached between my legs and broke apart the button on his pants, slid the zipper down, pressed myself against him more firmly.
“I’m going to do most of the work,” I told him. “You just lay back and relax.”
ATTICUS
Relax? Yeah, uh, that’s going to be the last thing I’m able to do, Thais.
My lips parted, and I let out a dizzying breath; my hands were on her thighs, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving against her.
Thais took off my pants and sat atop me again—I thought I would die when I felt myself inside of her; I pushed my head back and shut my eyes and rocked my hips toward her as she rode me.
It wasn’t going to take long, I realized. Not long at all. And Thais kept moving, up and down on me, making my heart pound and other parts of me throb and ache almost to the point of no return.
“No, wait a minute.” My hands fitted on her waist, I stopped her before it was too late. “I want you to come first,” I insisted.
Thais, still moving her hips a little, tilted her head. “But—”
I lifted her from my lap. “Come up here,” I whispered, and gestured for her.
THAIS
Red in the face and with bees in my belly, I moved to sit atop Atticus with his head between my legs.
Our wedding night was as wonderful as any wedding night could have been—no, it was better. We enjoyed little sex—a little was all either of us needed—and a lot of conversation. It had been so long since we could just sit back and enjoy one another, love one another, and just be with one another. And for the rest of the night, with the lively camp of gypsies still going on all around us, we talked about Shreveport and the many things we wanted to accomplish in life, because a future was actually something we could look forward to now. Atticus told me he wanted to help the city with security; he wanted to become a leader of sorts, but not high enough to be everybody’s leader, so he could make decisions and enforce laws. “I want to be able to weed out anyone who doesn’t belong there,” he had told me. “Never again will I work alongside men who think that rape and slavery is acceptable. If women want to have sex for money, that’s their prerogative, but women will never be forced to do anything they don’t want to do. Not with me around.” And he told me all about Evelyn Bouchard. My heart broke for his friend. I wished he could have gotten Evelyn out of Lexington with us.
And then he told me: “People like Peter Whitman, they shouldn’t be afraid to be who they are—it’s so fucked up what my friend went through. I wish I’d known the truth sooner.” And my heart broke that much more, and I remembered watching Peter Whitman die, and I wished I could turn back time and try to save him.
And I told Atticus about how I wanted to always be Atticus’ wife first, not because it was a wife’s duty to put her husband first, but because I loved him and couldn’t possibly see putting him second. And I spoke of how I hoped to teach children, to be a mentor. “I just want to set a good example,” I had told Atticus. “I want to teach people not to be afraid; I want them to understand that the world needs goodness now more than ever. That’s all I want: for people to understand, and not be afraid of doing what is right.”
ATTICUS & (THAIS)
I smiled at her words, her hopes and aspirations, but behind my smile there was still that fear of her potential, eating away at me.
We talked and talked until we couldn’t hold our eyes open anymore. And we woke early the following morning to the sound of the camp packing up and preparing to leave.
The sun was on full display in the serene, cloudless blue sky; it was neither too hot nor too cool, but perfect weather for traveling.
I felt like I’d never smiled as much as I was that morning, as I helped Ossie break down their tent, and helped pack everything into carriages and into the beds of trucks.
“You can ride with us,” Ona told Thais, her dainty arm draped over Thais’ dainty shoulder. “You and Atticus, in the carriage with us.”
“We would love to,” Thais said.
Ona hugged Thais and then left her standing with me so she could help her grandfather.
“So, today is the day.” I felt incredibly nervous.
Thais nodded, inhaled and exhaled. “Today is the day.” She looked nervous, too.
After a moment she said, “It almost…doesn’t feel real.”
“Yeah, but it is.”
“Hey, Atticus!” I heard Ossie call out, and saw him waving from the back of the carriage.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Thais.
“Okay.” I kissed her forehead and headed toward Ossie.
(I watched him go, the smile growing on my face. That’s my husband, I thought, happier than ever in my whole life.)
Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
I froze when the shots rang out; then I saw the dirt kick up in front of me, to my left, and to my right, as bullets sprayed the camp. Around me everything moved in fast-forward, but for two seconds too long I stood motionless, a heavy feeling weighing in my stomach. Instinctively, I reached behind me for my gun, but it wasn’t there, and it hadn’t been for a long time.
Panic manipulating my movements, I whirled around and ran for Thais. Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat! More dirt and grass kicked up around me as I ran the short distance toward her.
“THAIS! GET DOWN! GET DOWN!”
I made it to her a second later, and my arms went around her, my body shielded her from the bullets, and we fell onto the ground.
I scrambled to drag her underneath a nearby carriage; the horse still attached to the front; it kicked up on its hind legs and swatted furiously at the air with the front legs, made a frightful noise and then took off running; the carriage veered left and right in a precarious motion like a rollercoaster out of control. I pulled Thais to my chest and fell backward against the ground just in time before we were sideswiped by the carriage’s back wheels.
“Atticus…”
Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
Bullets stung the trees and the remaining tents and pinged against the side of a metal truck. Screams rose over the noise, bodies fell in every angle of my vision; horses cried and reared up and bolted into the forest. More gunfire, this time it was coming from the gypsies. They came out in every direction, guns raised, triggers repeatedly pulled; the smell of gun smoke filled the air.
“Atticus,” Thais said again; she coiled her fingers around the back of my neck.
But there was no time for anything right now except getting out of the crossfire, and so I picked Thais up into my arms, and I zigzagged through the camp, ducking behind trees and trucks and carriages without horses, past dozens of gypsies with shotguns and handguns and rifles moving aggressively in the opposite direction toward those raiding the camp. When I stopped behind another truck, and looked back to gauge the situation, to figure out how in the hell to get us out of it, I saw Ossie fall. And I saw Edith fall after him. I gripped Thais even tighter and turned my back away from the scene, hoping she didn’t see what had happened.
“KILL THE BROWNS! KILL ALL THE BROWNS! AND ROUND UP THE PALES!”
I froze again, only this time the voice I’d heard remained stuck in my head; the voice, not the spray of bullets, was keeping me grounded.
“Marion…” I said, my voice and my mind working against the other—I hadn’t meant to say it aloud.
Lexington City raiders had come. They had finally come. But had Marion found us? Did he know Thais and I were part of the camp?
I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.
“We have to go,” I told Thais, and finally looked down at her. “It’s Marion’s party; we have to get out of here. Listen to me”—I grabbed her hand, looked into her eyes intently—“we have to make a run for it before he sees us. I want you to hold my hand and don’t let go—”
“Atticus…I can’t run.” Her voice was weak; the look in her eyes, tired, sickly.
My gaze fell downward until I saw the dark crimson stain on the midsection of her blouse.
I sucked in a sharp breath; my hand, the one holding hers, raised involuntarily in front of my face, covered in blood. “Thais…No…” No. No, no, no, no, no…
Salt and bile choked me; I didn’t know what to do. Back and forth my eyes darted, from Thais and to Marion, Thais, Marion. Thais was going nowhere, but Marion was getting closer.
Rat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat-Tat!
Another horse tore its way past; children ran behind it, screaming; in the corner of my eye I saw one child fall, face-down into the dirt. My hands shook uncontrollably; the salt and bile rose up in my throat; the blood pumped through my head like a goddamned hammer, beating and beating and thrashing. Run, you fucking idiot! RUUUUN!
I scooped Thais into my arms and took off faster than the horse that had just zipped past; I could feel Thais’ blood, warm and sticky, seeping into my clothes, staining my hands. I could feel my heart breaking, feel not only her life slipping away, but mine, too, deeper and deeper and deeper into the cold, dark ground beneath the soles of my shoes as they battered the earth in my haste.
Low-lining tree limbs snapped at my face as I ran through the woods and over uneven terrain that tried to bring me down. I stumbled, my shoe catching underneath a root, but I didn’t fall, and no way in hell would I drop Thais. Gunfire and screams sounded all around me with terrifying persistence; the smell of smoke filled the air, and I could hear the fires blazing, crawling over the carriages and the tents, the wood cracking, and then collapsing.
I kept running. I ran long after I couldn’t anymore, long after my heart threatened to give up on me, and my lungs starved for breath, and the stitches of my injuries broke apart and bled again. I ran, with Thais in my arms, long after I could no longer see her breathing, after her eyes failed to open and close anymore, because I was afraid that if I stopped, if I took the time to see I had lost her, that it would be true. I was afraid that if I gave in to that reality, then it would be real.
I ran. And I ran. Through the forest and away from the lake, down a highway littered with the rusted skeletons of cars. And through a vast field that spread out in every direction with nothing in the distance but blue sky on green.
I ran.
And I ran.
And then a single shot rang out, echoing over the field like ripples over water, and I fell when the bullet pierced my back.