Pentimento: a dystopian Beauty and the Beast Page 6
"'Humans Always See What The...' and then?" Iris repeated, thinking.
Colton scratched the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh. "I don't really know. But I know why the sentence in this Pentimento caught your attention."
Iris watched him in silence.
"This sentence feels like it has to do something with Pentimento," Colton explained. "The idea of Pentimento is that you can find an older image of something underneath the newer one. It has a lot to do with seeing, and so does this sentence."
"I think you're right," Iris said. "I might have overreacted to it. It could be nothing," Iris lay her back against the wall. "I'm sorry. I know you really want to know what happened to Eva."
"I do," Colton said. "But how about you? Why are you doing this?"
Iris tried to keep her mouth shut. She wasn't going to tell him that she'd wished for his girlfriend to be taken by the Beasts, even if it was just a slip of the tongue. "I don't know," she said. "I guess since I was exposed to the Pentimento idea, I always wished there was more to this life. Also, and this is something I don't think you could relate to, I always felt like a stranger in a strange land in this world."
"Who told you I don't feel that way?" Colton leaned forward and placed his palm on the wall, right next to her head. His gaze freaked her out again and again. He was too close this time. She hadn't thought he'd be. "I've always felt like a stranger in my own body. I mean, I am a product of what others think of me. Colton, the hunk. Loved by girls, expected to win at sports and dress so cool everyday. Something here about you," he shrugged. "I mean about the Ruins," he switched his gaze to the wall. Way to go, Colton, she thought. Comparing me to the Ruins. "I know I hated it when I first stepped into it. But now I suddenly fell in love with the Ruins. With all the gray shades hovering above it, it feels likes a real place, where I could be who I want to be."
"So you're not disappointed I couldn't be of much help?" Iris wondered. Did this mean she could see him again?
"Are you kidding me," Colton took some steps back and raised his hands in the air. "With all those possible Pentimentos here, we'll keep on looking until we know what happened before the Beasts came..."
Suddenly, Iris could hear a faint low hum droning somewhere. She exchanged worried looks with Colton, hoping the slugs hadn't found them. But it wasn't the slugs. It was a faint sound coming from The Second itself.
"It's the horn," Colton said, his face tightening. "Why aren't our phones beeping?"
"There is no signal in the Ruins," Iris said, pulling his hands. "We have to go back now. It's only been a week since..." she couldn't say 'Eva.'
"We can't let this keep happening, Iris," Colton said. "I wonder which girl has been chosen this time."
11
Iris headed home later and ate dinner with her father, who still took care of her dead mother's vacant chair. Iris saw the placemat was there, and a fork and a spoon, and an empty plate. Her father wasn't crazy. He just did it out of respect to his deceased wife. Once in a while, Iris would catch him staring at the chair, wondering if her mother's ghost sat there with them.
Charles hadn't been as talkative since his wife died. He'd even abandoned his basement hobby since then, as if there was no point of searching for the truth, if he couldn't share it with the love of his life. Iris respected that and ate silently.
Unlike other families, Charles wasn't worried about his young girl turning seventeen. Parents in The Second spent an overly-anxious year when their daughters reached that age. Zoe's parents were like that. The fear for their child's safety oozed out of their eyes, thinking their daughter didn't notice it. “Being a teenager sucks,” Zoe would say. No wonder she was so anxious to attend Vera's birthday when the girl only bullied her in school. Eighteen was like going to heaven, being freed from a death sentence, and even splitting up one's cocoon and finally becoming a butterfly.
But if families were that worried, they got to celebrate their child's freedom once every week. And today was such a day, because another girl had been chosen by the Beasts. One girl's misery was all other girls’ happiness in The Second--and probably for at least five more days. A Call by the Beasts never came sooner than five days of the last summons.
"I escaped school today, daddy," Iris said, not looking at him.
"And why do you feel the need to tell me?" Charles breathed into the soup. He was neither angry nor happy. He was just there, unsure of what to feel about the world.
"Hmm...I just thought it'd be better coming from me, than from the school's principal."
"The school stopped informing me a while ago, since I never replied," he said.
Iris thought her father was the best in the world, although he seemed a bit irresponsible lately. She thought he didn't believe in the system, just like her, and so he preferred not to interact with it. To just be there, a clown in the circus.
"I know I am supposed to be happy that you're not yelling at me for skipping school like Zoe's parents," Iris said. "But sometimes I am afraid you’ve given up on me."
Charles dropped the spoon and faced her. He tried smiling in an assuring way, but it came out weak and fragile. "I will never give up on you," he cupped her hand into his. "I will fight dragons for you."
"Dragons aren't real, dad," she smiled. She loved how he still talked to her as if she were ten. Frankly, she missed the feeling of being ten, where mysteries and dangers were just happy imaginations filling her mind. Now, she was growing up in the real world, where everything was so real, it cut through the flesh sometimes.
"Then I'll fight the Beasts," he pulled his hand back and drank the soup straight from the bowl. "Sorry, Gabrielle," he nodded at her mother's chair. Her name was Gabrielle-Suzanne, and she would have never allowed it.
"Sorry mother," Iris followed, and drank straight from the bowl as well. Her father burped after. Iris sucked at burping. She couldn't do it.
"Now I can slay dragons and Beasts for you," he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Iris laughed so hard, her stomach ached a bit.
"So what was her name?" Charles's face changed suddenly. Iris knew he was asking about the girl who'd been chosen today. Her mouth twitched, remembering the scene, watching her cry herself to death as she walked toward the ship of light.
"Elia Wilson," Iris said, lowering her head with respect. No family liked to talk about the Brides at dinner. No one even talked about the Brides after they were gone. Her name wasn't even going to be mentioned in the electronic paper's obituary the day after. Being the Bride was even worse than death itself. A member of society, a girl, has just vanished from The Second today. She hadn't even left any Pentimento behind. Her name would even disappear from records in the years to come. It was the Law of the Beast: We'll give you all you need to live the metallic dead life you've asked for, and we will take one girl full of life every now and then.
All Iris could think about now was Elia's family, sitting at some dinner table, asked to pretend their daughter never existed. It was against the law to protest, mourn, or even question. In fact, many people embraced the idea that the Call of the Beast was a savior for humanity. That one girl had to be sacrificed for some holy wisdom that made no sense. There was this old story that a woman prophet had descended upon Earth centuries ago, to show humans the right path. A woman who was believed to have been a descendent of the Beasts. But humanity, in its denial for all good sent to it, refused to believe in her and hung her on a cross to die. Unknown to them, the woman had been killed and elevated back up to the Beasts, to wash over the sins of humanity. And that's why the Beasts take a girl in their Call, as a remembrance for humanity's unkind actions of killing the lovely Lady Jesus. Theories and stories were a dime a dozen, the truth was the one story never told.
"Elia Wilson," Charles said the name as if reciting a prayer. He flipped his phone on, and looked up her name and address. "Got it." he said. "You want to do this?" He asked his daughter.
Iris nodded and wiped her mouth, then stood up.
"Let's do it. Elia deserves to be remembered." Iris went back to her room and pulled a card box from under the bed. Inside the box, there was something special in a puddle of mud. It was something that none had seen in The Second before. Iris had found it in the Ruins, and taken good care of it ever since. Her father was calling her. It was time to do it.
12
Iris sat next to her father in their car parked in front of a metallic two-story house. It was snowing, and the house was almost dark, all but the dinning room on the first floor.
"Do you want me to do it like last time?" Charles asked.
"Last time it was Eva's house," Iris said. "I was afraid they wouldn't understand if they saw me. But I didn't know Elia Wilson. I hope they accept it. I won't let them see me anyways."
"Fine, then," Charles said, and turned his gaze back to the house. "You have it with you?"
"I do," Iris felt her coat's right pocket. Something fluffy was in there, wrapped in some sort of plastic. It was the precious thing she'd kept in the box under the bed. Iris didn't need to pull it out now. She opened the door and stepped into the thick snow, and walked towards the Wilson’s front door.
Iris took one last glance back at her father in the car. Charles nodded with a weak smile. Iris turned back, holding her precious gift in her hands. A red rose. A real and rare one she'd found in the Ruins. Amidst all the grayness, a blood-red rose found alive. It was the only plant that grew healthy and undamaged in the Ruins. Iris never knew why.
The rose was carefully wrapped in a transparent foil. Iris knelt down and laid it on the snow before the door. She treated it with care, like a newborn baby.
Then she started carving some words with her gloved hands in the thick snow. She carved it while facing the car, her back to the door. She raised her thumbs in Charles's direction when she finished. She turned around and took a deep breath. Charles had already started the engine of his car by then.
Iris took another deep breath and rang the bell, then ran back to her car, almost stumbling in the snow. She opened the door as Charles pushed the gas pedal ahead, as if they both had just robbed a bank.
"Wait, dad," she pleaded, watching a woman open the door. It was probably Elia's mother. "I want to see."
Charles slowed the car down behind a fence so the mother wouldn't see them. And Iris saw.
The mother took a moment to register what she was holding in her hands, then slowly smiled at the beauty of the red rose. It didn't matter that she hadn't seen anything like it before. A rose was as beautiful as morning sunshine. You'd love it, even if you were dead.
Elia's mother unwrapped it and smelled it, staring at the stars in the sky above. She looked around for whoever sent this beautiful rose for the Wilsons, but couldn't see them.
"Look down at the snow," Iris whispered. "Please."
The woman finally caught the words engraved in the snow. Her hands shivered reading the words, the rose sliding through her hands, its petals scattering on the snow. The woman fell on her knees and started crying to the words Iris carved in the snow:
Elia Robert Wilson. You will always be remembered.
13
It wasn't easy for Colton to ask Eva's parents’ permission to enter her room. They had only been together three months, and it wasn't like Eva had been his soul mate or anything. Both of them were lost souls in a high school that secretly demanded you acted like society expected you to. As son and daughter of elders who were part of the elite Council, Eva and Colton played their parts right, wishing it was only until they went to college. Then they'd get to be whoever they wanted to be, without all that pressure--at least Colton thought so. He wasn't sure about Eva, and it was one of the things that always threatened their relationship.
Eva's father permitted Colton the entry, although he demanded it to be quick. Colton said he only wanted to gather a present he had given her, so he could honor her memory. Remembering a Bride, although against the Law of the Beast, was a very intimate and special matter, practiced secretly among some citizens. It wasn't like the Beasts didn't know about it. They probably did. But the Beasts never showed their true evil nature, Colton was beginning to think. They were hiding somewhere up there in the sky, guarded by the lighting of their protective ships, playing The Second like marionettes. All under the name of democracy and the Law of the Beast. A few families secretly remembering the lost ones wasn't a big deal.
Colton entered Eva's room and locked the door behind him, leaving her mother crying somewhere in the kitchen. She didn't look like she could pretend her daughter didn't exist yet. After all, it had been more than a week and no one had emptied the room.
Eva's room was classy. Everything in it was too expensive and glaringly girly. Colton didn't know what to look for. After he had parted with Iris, he'd been wandering the streets like a lost beggar trying to find a place he could call home. Everything around him felt so fake after he'd been exposed to the Ruins and the idea of Pentimento. He'd started to question everything around him. And all of this was because of this unusual girl named Iris. Her name brought a smile to his face. He wasn't supposed to feel this way about anyone but Eva at the time. But he couldn't help it. He'd never missed a girl so fast. Hell, he'd only gotten to know her a little bit today, and they weren't even friends.
But Iris was irresistible. And the best part was she didn't know it. Colton thought he'd never really met a girl like her before. He thought Iris was average in the looks department. A face like so many other girls. A body that was okay. Nothing special about her in the shallow way men were expected to seek in girls in The Second. But her spirit was so sexy in the most unexplainable way.
Colton shook his head and sat on Eva's bed. This wasn't right. He'd never been interested in Eva the way he was in Iris, but Eva was still his ex, and no new girl was going to take her place unless he felt he did all he could to honor her somehow. Only, he didn't know how.
Why was he really in this room? Was he expecting to discover something? Eva was an open book. She wasn't interested in the unknown. She'd even said she approved of the Beasts' laws. Somehow, she was confident she'd never be chosen as a Bride because she was a Council member’s daughter.
"You were so wrong, Eva," Colton buried his head in his hands. "If even the Council's daughters aren't immune, then who is? Do the Beasts have some criteria in choosing the girls? If so, why did they choose you, Eva?"
Colton inhaled all the air he could before his confusion suffocated him. The only thing that brought a smile to his face was Iris again.
Gosh, who is this girl? I haven't even kissed her.
Colton stood up and began rummaging through Eva's stuff. It seemed like a dull task now. He almost knew everything about Eva. She loved to take photos of herself, and always had to be positioned in the front of any photo taken of her with anyone else. Colton remembered that she didn't like to be photographed next to girls who matched her beauty. There was a substantial number of photos of them together as well. Always hugging him, clinging to him, and making sure she was up front in those pictures as well. Colton thought he looked stiff in the pictures. "What a jerk," he called himself. He thought his poses were snotty and unnatural. "Oh. Come on. You couldn't have changed so fast," he talked to his reflection in Eva's wall mirror. "This one in the pictures is you. Always has been. You weren't the kindest of students, and if Cody hadn't told you about this curious girl who had a clue about the Beasts, you'd never have even looked at Iris. Don't try to play as if you had a change of heart."
Colton began to worry. Talking to himself wasn't something he usually did. Besides, he remembered now when he first saw Iris dangling her feet from above the principal's office. He thought she had big toes at first. Something he hated in girls. But then when he stared at that clumsy girl with chocolate smearing her lower lip, something happened to him. Something he could not explain. He doubted she had any idea he was looking up to yell at her, since her chocolate wrapper fell right on his face. It wasn't the phone that caught his attentio
n the first time.
What's wrong with me? I couldn't even open my mouth and shout at her when I saw her staring at me as if I was the Easter Bunny.
Colton ruffled his hair and shook Iris away from his brain, although she had already booked a place somewhere inside his skull.
He was about to put Eva's album back in the drawer, when he saw a photo standing next to Vera. They were close and almost had the same taste. That's why they rarely took pictures together. Each one was intimidated by the other's beauty. Colton knew tomorrow was Vera's birthday--he'd been invited before Eva was taken. He contemplated going or not. An eighteenth birthday for a girl in The Second was a big deal, and he respected that.
Colton flipped through one more pictures before a vision struck him. A vision that urged him to flip back to Eva's picture with Vera. A third girl was standing next to them. Someone he knew.
Colton looked more closely at the picture. The three girls were embracing in the school's stadium, probably before one of his Steelball games, which he was a master at. He was right. He knew the third girl. Next to Vera and Eva, stood Elia Wilson. She was a fascinating beauty like the other two.
14
While waiting for Zoe the next day, Iris didn't finish her homework--she thought she was too old for calling it homework anyway. She spent her time surfing the internet instead, looking for answers about the Brides. Why were these girls really taken? What did the Beasts do to them, and on what basis were they chosen?
As usual, no one discussed the subject freely. Not on the social networks, not in private forums, and not even in private messages between friends. The Call of the Beast had been happening for decades. It was unquestionable, and no one longed for explanation anymore. No one was ever blamed for these kind of catastrophes. And it always boggled her mind.
Still, she wasn't going to give up. Someone, somewhere, knew something about the Beasts. If they were communicating with the Council, teaching them what to tell us, then there must be someone who had seen or talked to a Beast face to face somehow.