Becoming Calder

CHAPTER NINE


Eden



Over the next few months, I met Calder mostly everyday for my lessons. Some days we missed seeing each other when his chores got in the way, or when there were too many council members at the main lodge. Those days were the hardest. But the days we did meet, Calder would recline lazily against a rock and draw something or another while he taught me math, science, and the rules I didn't know about the English language. Often, he'd have to stop and go over something in the notebook I filled with everything he talked about. But mostly I just took notes, and then the next day, he'd quiz me a little. I was an excellent student. Of course, I knew the value of knowledge, having been deprived of it for so long.
I didn't just learn the academics Calder taught me, I learned them from his specific point of view. Not just the information he remembered, but the way he saw the world. When we lay on the grass and looked up at the sky and talked about the color spectrum, he told me about a rainbow he'd seen once as he watered the tomato crops in the fields, after too short of a rainfall to do any good. It was as if each time a rainbow appeared, that rich smell of soil came back to him, and Elysium and earth were joined for just that moment, even if only in his own mind. We'd both gotten slightly sleepy, lying there together, and he'd been musing when he said it and he almost looked embarrassed when he realized he'd been speaking aloud. But I loved those moments—when just for a second, I was a part of Calder's innermost mind. It humbled me and warmed me, as if for just a moment, I'd stepped into a ray of sunlight.
He was goodness—raw, unguarded goodness. It glowed in him. It was impossible not to want to drown in that type of beauty . . . to feel like I could happily wrap around his bones and suffocate in his skin.
It alarmed me, and comforted me.
As we lay by our spring day after day, Calder not only told me the things he remembered from each year of his schooling, but he told me the things he'd learned from the others living in our community who had previously lived in the big society. He had learned about gambling from a man who had come to be a part of our family five years previous. He'd told Calder, as he worked alongside him, that he'd had a real problem with going to big casinos, places where adult games were played for money. If you won, you went home with more money, and if you lost, you went home with nothing. He'd lost far more than he'd won and in the end, he lost everything: his wife, his children, his job, and his friends. No one wanted him. That's when Hector had come along. And Hector had wanted him.
There were many of those stories, and I listened intently to them all.
Physically, Calder kept his distance from me, flinching when I got too near, watching me like a hawk. I wasn't so na?ve I didn't understand he was having a difficult time with our closeness, and I had been telling the truth when I'd said I was going to pour all my focus into learning, but it still stung. And the unfairness of it made me angry.
Yes, my childish crush had disappeared, but I knew him now. I knew his kindness, and his protective nature. I knew his patient spirit and his sharp wit. Simply put, I was in love with him. As if my love for Calder could ever be simple.
Meeting him at our spring for an hour and a half every afternoon, as my friend and my tutor, wasn't everything. But it would have to be enough.
We didn't meet again in the evening. Clive Richter was home at night and he always seemed to be watching for me. It was safer to keep our lessons to the daytime hours. I wouldn't jeopardize those.
We talked about the names for groups of animals one day. "Gorillas come in a band, grasshoppers come in a cloud, pigs come in a team," he said as I wrote down the list. He named a few more and then couldn't remember any more. I sighed.
"Sorry," he said, laughing slightly. "I told you, I could only give you what I remember."
"The problem is," I said, tapping my pencil on my chin, "if you were prompted, or given a choice of a few, you could probably remember a lot more than you think. It's somewhere in there." I tapped my pencil on his head.
"Ouch."
I rolled my eyes. "But me, all I have is what you give me. There's literally no more."
"Well then, good thing I'm smarter than the everyday person." He winked. "I figure, even having a quarter of what I ever learned, you're better off than the average numbskull."
"Haha. Well, how comforting that I'm an above average numbskull."
Calder grinned. "Penguins come in a colony."
I scrawled it down.
He looked thoughtful like he did when he was trying to recall something specific he'd learned on a certain topic. "Penguins spend seventy-five percent of their lives in water. I wonder if they'll survive the flood. How could they not?"
We both quietly mulled that over.
"We had cockroaches in our cabin last year. My mom said in the big community, the joke is that cockroaches can survive anything."
"Even the end of the world?" I asked quietly.
Calder glanced at me and shrugged. "Maybe." He was silent for a minute. "But that's probably a good thing. Who wants cockroaches in Elysium anyway?" He grinned. "Let 'em stay."
I let out a small laugh, picturing the great flood finally receding, and the cockroaches climbing out of their holes in the earth.
Calder turned toward me and propped his head up on his hand. "Anyway, back to penguins, there's a certain kind who proposes to his mate by giving her some thing or another."
I looked over at him with interest. "Really? What does he give her?"
"I don't remember. Maybe a feather, or a stick or something."
"You don't remember? Why not? That's so romantic. You remember precisely what percentage of time a penguin spends of its life in the water," I threw up my hands in impatience, "and how cockroaches will survive us all, but you don't remember what gift a male penguin gives his mate to propose to her? That's ridiculous." I shook my head in exasperation.
Calder laughed. "Why should I care? I'm not a penguin. It's not exactly information that was going to come in handy when I pick my own mate."
My face fell. I couldn't help it. I looked away from him, out at the spring water, glistening in the sunshine.
"Do you plan on picking a mate?" I'd never asked him, but I wondered. Why shouldn't he? It's not like he could pick me, even if he wanted to. But surely he must want one. He was a man now, with a man's body. He must have . . . needs. I had seen other girls our age look at him with interest. With them, he wouldn't have to hide. I glanced back at him, my heart sinking.
He was looking at me thoughtfully. What does he think when he looks at me that way? "No. I can't even think about that. The only thing I can think about right now is getting a spot on the council and going out into the world."
I nodded, taking in his handsome face. His male beauty stole my breath. Calder had turned eighteen in January and it seemed in the span of a year, he had grown even taller and broader in the shoulders. He was lean, but hard everywhere and I couldn't help but let my eyes roam over him while his eyes were focused on his sketchpad. Sometimes, he showed up with a shadow of dark stubble on his jaw. That was my favorite—it's how he would have looked if I had had the opportunity to wake up beside him. He looked extra tired those days, too, but when I asked him what was wrong, he just told me he hadn't slept very well.
One day, as I sat waiting for Calder, my face tilted toward the sky, I was surprised when I looked up to the sound of him coming through the brush, and saw Xander instead.
"Hi," I said, standing up.
"Hey, Eden. Calder can't make it today. I wanted to come tell you so you didn't worry." He ran a hand through his black hair as he approached me.
I hadn't seen Xander in several months and he looked bigger to me, too. It seemed like both of those boys had shot up several inches in half a year.
"Oh, okay. Is he all right?"
"Yeah, he's fine. His sister isn't doing so well, though. She's had a pretty bad cough forever it seems like, and she does better, then worse, then better. She's worse right now."
I realized then I hadn't seen Maya in weeks. But I had just figured there wasn't much mending to do in the main lodge. Why hadn't Calder told me? Was that why he had looked so haggard recently? It hit me how separate our lives truly were. Hurt filled my chest, but I pushed it away and focused on Xander.
"Why didn't he tell me?"
Xander studied me for a minute. "Knowing Calder, he just didn't want to burden you. And he was hopeful. He's always so damned hopeful." He stared off behind me for a second, and then looked back at me. "You know he has feelings for you, right?"
I stared at him. I opened my mouth to say something, decided I didn't know what, and then closed it again. Did I know Calder had feelings for me? Yes. I didn't have a complete handle on what those feelings might be, other than a close friendship, but just knowing Xander could see Calder cared for me had my heart beating faster. It made everything worse. And it made everything better.
"Whatever his feelings mean, he won't do anything about it, Xander." I didn't know if he was looking for reassurance, but I figured he probably was. His fate would be affected by our decisions, too, after all.
"No, I don't guess he will." He didn't look exactly happy about that. He rubbed his eye and let out a breath. "Want to sit for a minute?" he finally said, indicating the small patch of grass with a large rock behind it where Calder usually sketched.
I nodded and walked the few steps to it and sat down on my knees. I felt awkward, and the unfamiliar feeling in this place made me realize how comfortable I'd grown with Calder. And how much I missed him, even though I'd just seen him yesterday.
Xander sat down next to me and brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them loosely. "Any word on when Hector's coming back?"
I shook my head. "No, Mother Hailey receives letters from him, but he doesn't write to me. She told me he's living with some people who he believes the gods want to become part of our family."
He was silent for a second, and then nodded his head once and said, "Has Calder talked to you about his plans to get on the council?"
I sighed. "Yes." I was quiet for a couple beats before I added, "I don't know how likely that is."
Xander scooted back so he was leaning against the rock Calder usually used. "Yeah, I don't either. Tell me why you say that."
I let out a breath. "It's just . . . the other council members . . . they're different than Calder. I don't see Calder fitting in. He's too—"
"Good," Xander finished.
I nodded and lowered my eyes. "Yes."
We both sat silently for a few minutes until Xander finally said, "He's going to try as soon as Hector gets back, you know. And I don't see it working out well for him."
"So what do we do?" I whispered.
"I don't know there's much we can do. Calder's going to do what he thinks he needs to." He picked absently at the grass next to him for a minute. "Calder, he breaks the rules once in a while, but he'd never do anything he thought would hurt someone else. He’s so damned honorable."
"Yeah, tell me about it," I said.
Xander chuckled. "I should get back. I'm going to bring some holy water to Maya." He pulled himself up and so did I.
"What can I do?"
"Not much, Eden. Just pray for her."
I nodded. "Xander, if I leave some candy for her under the bush on the right side of the main lodge's porch, will you retrieve it and bring it to Maya from me?”
Xander smiled. "Sure."
"Okay, thanks. And thanks for coming down here to let me know about Maya."
"You're welcome."
I thought he'd turn and leave, but he looked up at the clear blue sky for several beats before his eyes met mine and he said, "There's a storm coming, Eden."
I nodded, not looking upward. "Yes," I said simply. He furrowed his brow and nodded, and then he turned and left me standing there, alone.

**********

Calder didn't show up at our spring for the next few days. I left the candy by the front porch diligently, though, and made sure to see if it was gone. It always was. Xander was doing the job I'd asked him to do.
I did see Calder at Temple, but Maya wasn't with his family and even from far away, he looked so drawn and tired. I gave him a discreet smile, and he smiled back, but it looked like he did it with effort. I was screaming inside as I quietly and obediently went about my religious duties.
I wanted desperately to ask someone if Maya was okay, if she was getting better, but who could I go to? Hector wasn't here. What if I just walked myself right over to Calder's small cabin and knocked on the door?
I threw myself backward onto my bed and groaned. Someone, probably one of the council members, would drag me back in about seven seconds, that's what. And then they'd start watching me like a hawk again and I might not be able to meet Calder down at the spring. I couldn't risk it for either of us.
I lay there contemplating what I could do when I suddenly heard the distant sound of an engine on the road. That wasn't too unusual. All the council members had vehicles they used to travel to and from work in the big community. But for some reason, I sat up anyway and went to my window to look out. I strained my eyes to see what kind of car it was drawing closer. It was a black jeep. I kept watching, disbelieving for a few minutes, but as it came nearer, it was unmistakable. Hector had returned. He had been gone for almost six months, and now he was back. Sadness and anxiety suddenly filled me. My access to the spring, to Calder, would now be practically non-existent. All these months, that fear had loomed, and now it was reality.

**********

Mother Hailey rushed into my room, saying, "Hurry, Eden, make yourself presentable. Hector's returned. He'll want to see you right away."
I didn't reply, but moved to put on my lace dress, the one he favored. It was slightly tight on me now, as I hadn't had it altered in six months since he'd been gone. There'd simply been no need. I despised that dress. It was a symbol of everything I hated about my own life.
Still, I pulled it on and then Mother Hailey brushed my hair and put a ribbon around it. I looked like a child.
"Mother Hailey," I murmured as she ran her hands through my hair, "can I still call you Mother?"
She was quiet for a moment before she said gently, "No, Eden. You'll be my mother in a few months now. You must simply call me Hailey."
Tears gathered in my eyes and Hailey turned me toward her and led me to the bed where we both sat down, and she grasped my hands in hers. "Eden, you don't need to be scared. Hector is a very kind husband. And if you're lucky, you'll be pregnant with Hector's child before the great floods come. And picture it now, the two of you leading us all into Elysium, a blessed child in your womb." She smiled warmly, squeezing my hands in hers.
"A child wasn't part of the prophecy," I murmured.
"No, but the gods can't send every detail, I don't imagine. That wouldn't be practical."
I didn't try to imagine how all that might work, but the thought of making a child with Hector filled me with dread. And it made the reality of what I'd be expected to do with him even more vivid. I wasn't sure what "that" was precisely, but I knew it involved things I had no desire whatsoever to do with Hector. He had raised me, for all intents and purposes. I thought of him as my father. I tried to swallow down the bile that rose up in my throat.
"Hailey," I finally managed, keeping my eyes cast downward, "are you happy? Don't you ever want someone just for you?" I brought my eyes to hers.
She was quiet for several beats, but I swore I saw sorrow in her eyes. "Sacrifice is what makes us the blessed people of the gods," she answered. "It's human nature to be selfish, but we must fight against that sin. It's what sets us apart from the people of the big community." I let out a breath. She was simply paraphrasing from Hector's Holy Book.
"What sacrifices does Hector make?" I asked boldly.
She tilted her head and took a deep breath, and reached out to bring my hair over my shoulder. "Hector makes many sacrifices. His life is lived with all of us in mind. Everything he does is for us. None of it is for him. For over twenty years, he's built Acadia, built our family, kept us strong and balanced."
"What if . . . what if I loved someone other than Hector? What if I wished to marry someone else?" I asked softly.
Hailey let go of my hands and put one finger under my chin, tilting my face up so she was looking into my eyes.
"That's not what the foretelling says, Eden. You must obey the foretelling."
I looked away. "The gods can't send every detail, I don't imagine," I repeated, picturing Calder bursting into the Temple to interrupt my marriage to Hector, scooping me up, and carrying me away. To where? That was the problem.
"Eden—" Hailey started, a warning sound in her voice.
"Don't worry, Hailey," I interrupted. "I'm always very obedient."
She narrowed her eyes at me. She knew better than that. "Where do you go while I'm schooling the boys? I know you leave the lodge."
I stood up and went to study my hair in the mirror, pretending to smooth it into place. The truth was, I couldn't care less what my hair looked like. "Just up into the hills to lie in the sun." I turned to her. "All my life, I've felt like a china doll sitting up on a dusty shelf. The sunshine makes me feel half alive."
Hailey studied me for a minute. "Eden, I moved to the main lodge with Hector when I was nineteen years old. He's the only man I've ever been with. He's given me four boys and a life of peace. I have a role here, too. If a meaningful life is a measure of happiness, then yes, I'm happy," she said, answering my earlier question.
"But who judges whether your life has meaning?" I asked boldly. "You or Hector?" I had never asked Hailey what her life had been like before she lived in Acadia and she had never offered that information.
A door slammed below, and Hailey smiled and stood up. "He's here. Come, put a smile on your face and come downstairs to greet him. All your doubts will melt away when you see the adoration on his face." Hailey smiled reassuringly and took my hand, and together we walked down the main staircase. If Hailey herself felt anything other than adoration, she didn't show it.
We turned into the large two-story foyer and there he was. He turned toward us, and although he was still the same large, broad-shouldered man he'd always been, something about him looked older, more haggard than when he'd left. And I noticed that he looked softer around the middle, his shirt stretched over a small paunch. His smile was radiant, though, when he saw us.
"Eden, Hailey, my loves," he greeted us, opening his arms wide and walking toward us.
"Hector—" Hailey said.
"Father—" I said at the same time.
We looked at each other and smiled.
We walked into Hector's embrace and he kissed the tops of our heads.
"My girls," he said. "Now I finally feel at home. Eden, please, play something for me. It will do my heart good."
I nodded and hurried to the piano. As I played, I pictured myself at the spring, lying on the grass with Calder, our hands grasped together, the noontime sun above us, warming our bodies. I let the melody surround the vision of us in my mind, the notes dancing over our skin.
When the last note was played and I came back to myself, the room was quiet. I looked up to see Hector and Hailey staring at me.
"Eden, your playing is even more beautiful than it was before I left. You must have been practicing very diligently."
"Yes, Father," I said.
Hector stood and came to sit down next to me on the piano bench. I scooted all the way to the edge to make room for him.
"Eden, you must call me Hector now," he said. He ran one finger down the side of my cheek. I kept staring ahead. "We'll be married very soon. I'll be your father no longer."
I didn't speak, couldn't speak. Hector continued to stare at my profile. Finally after what seemed like hours, he let out a shaky breath and said softly, "So sweet. Just what I needed." And then he stood.
I looked up to see Hailey still seated with her eyes downcast.
"Where are the boys?" Hector asked.
"They're with Monica," she said. Monica was one of the council member's wives who helped Hailey with the boys once in a while.
"Good," Hector said. "Come with me to my room. I'd like some time with you. Mother Miriam will be home later today and she can help me unpack."
"Yes, Hector," Hailey said.
They both turned and left me standing there. I wasn't sorry for the solitude. I returned to my room and brought my notebook out from under my bed and filled my head with the algebra I'd been learning with Calder.