Ruin

Epilogue

Henri's office is a stuffy, dusty little room in one of the barely used buildings. I cover my nose with my sleeve as I look around, waiting in front of the computer for a video link up that's being routed in a complicated maze of old information lines to reach us and not be traceable.

There's a tickle at the back of my neck and I raise my hand to brush the skin. All I find are my own hairs, grown a few inches closer to my shoulders. Days run together so easily here, especially now that I'm getting out and doing things. Maria has taken me a few times to help in the Southlands village in the hopes that they'll think of me if a space opens up. She keeps hinting that at least one space will open up soon which has me worried because she and Brandon both have mentioned that someone would have to pass away for that to happen. I don't exactly want to hope for someone to die. I haven't been changed that much.

Henri's office is much like his apartment, except he actually lives here. Instead of the old newspapers carelessly dropped in convenient spots, here he has book shelves filled with journals, binders, and even a few books. It surprises me that he's been holding out on me. The books on his shelf are about as old as the computer I'm supposed to use. Maybe they mean something to him, so he's stingy with them for a reason.

There's just the desk and the book cases for the most part. The one exception is the sofa that sits under the large window. The light is blocked by a large ratty curtain of sorts, but it has still managed to fade the back of the sofa that's exposed to the most sunlight. When Jimmy and I had walked in, he'd offered Jimmy the couch and he right away shook his head and refused to sit on it. That's why they wait just outside the door leaving me alone with the computer.

Henri has his back to me, but Jimmy faces into the office with his arms folded over his chest. He catches me looking at him, and I see his eyes narrow and one corner of his mouth turn up. I look away from him quickly, back to the computer.

The computer is probably older than me. I had no idea that Henri would have technology like this here or that he would use it, but he says that they can't get back into the Neutral Territory. Things have changed. So this is the only way he can contact the people he has there.

There's a beep and the computer has to think for a moment before a small window pops up with a grainy video feed of someone I recognize right away.

"Video? This is a new trick Henri. I don't suppose you did this just for me." He's laughing at first with his mouth opened wide and not even looking at the screen very closely. My heart starts to beat very quickly as I take him in, imagining that smile I last saw in person, the fine lines around it, the crinkles around his eyes.

Then he stops, and he does look. He's noticeably thinner, and there is a shadow on his face. Under his eyes, the skin is dark, and the monotone of the display only makes it more obvious.

"Hi, Uncle Wiley." I don't know what to do, or what to say. I don't want to cry. The tears have been coming much easier recently, but I prefer to be alone when they do. Crying in front of Henri, Jimmy, and now Uncle Wiley isn't possible.

"Paula." His voice is soft. He looks at me like he's seen a ghost, and maybe he's ready to cry too. He pauses to take a swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he does, and then he slowly starts to smile again. "You're all right."

I nod and give him a small smile of my own, happy to see he's all right too. "Yeah. Good to see you again." It's good to see anyone again from home, but it hurts.

Everything is quiet. It makes me worry that something has gone wrong with the connection. Just as I'm about to reach forward and check, Wiley speaks, his smile fading. He no longer looks like the man I knew when I was a kid. The one who was so jovial it was hard to not be happy around him. Now he looks like any other person in a position with some power and responsibility.

"Are you really doing all right? Everything is okay?"

I glance over at the doorway where Henri and Jimmy stand. They seem to be talking to one another and not focused on my conversation with Wiley, so quietly, I tell him, "It's not that bad here. Considering who my father is."

Wiley looks down for a fraction of a second and in that moment I know that he knew. My breath catches, but I don't ask about it. It's enough that I know and that he feels some guilt. When he looks back up at me, I can see it in his eyes even with the bad monitor. He looks even more like that stranger, the one that I can so clearly see now that I'm a few months older.

I don't know what to say, but I want to console him. I want to tell him that it really is fine, that I have something like a place now, even if it's still awkward and forced. We're at least trying.

Wiley clears his throat. "So he's going to have you working the communication. You know about the resistance then? And that I'm a part of it?"

Henri has started telling me. Before he agreed to let me start working on his computer and fixing up his one communication link, he had to make sure I understood that Wiley and my mom were both working against the government of the place I considered home. Henri could only guess that they didn't tell me because they didn't want to chance me accidentally saying something to someone.

But I wasn't surprised when Henri told me. "I already knew."

Uncle Wiley lets his jaw slacken for a moment before he draws it closed again with a direct, intent look. "You knew?"

It was a strange situation. Maybe I didn't know that Uncle Wiley and Mom were part of a resistance, but I knew there was something out of the ordinary and that I had to keep it secret, not even telling my closest friends about my Uncle Wiley.

I shrug, wondering if in the dark with this old equipment he can even see such a subtle gesture. "I kinda figured. I mean, you live in a tunnel, and you eat food out of cans. Who does that for fun?"

Wiley chuckles. "You're as observant as..."

He lets his words trail off though the last few are very obvious. I blink a little at the soft reminder. These days even Henri is looking at me differently, as if he can see it the similarities to my mom too. "Uncle Wiley, do you know-- have you heard anything? Is she okay?"

The screen is too dark. I want to move in closer to see his face better on the burned out old monitor, but if I do, that will take me out of the camera's frame. Instead I think really hard, focusing on him, wishing that he has and he would just tell me whether she is or isn't alive.

He turns his head away from the camera, the corners of his mouth pulled back slightly. Something is wrong, I know it, but I don't know what to ask or how to say it. If she is dead, I want to tell him that I'll be okay, that even that's better than not knowing.

I'm ready to call his attention back to me when he says with a sigh, "No. Nothing yet."

A tear slips out from the corner of my eye and I wipe at it with a finger. Jimmy shifts. He's probably seen me wiping my eye, but he doesn't say anything or move towards me.

Behind Wiley, there's movement. The shadows peel back from the young face of a girl as she walks in from the tunnel and pauses to stare at the computer. I lift a hand and point at the girl behind him.

"Wiley, who is that?"

He turns around, and the girl jumps. She scowls at him and hops out of the way of the camera. When he turns back, I'm aware that I'm surrounded too. Jimmy and Henri are both in the room, standing behind me and looking at the computer screen.

Wiley notices them, and he gives a little grin. "I see you have your own company too."

As long as I've known him, Wiley has always lived alone. He's never had any girls living with him and always joked with mom when he thought I wasn't listening that they wouldn't want to live in a tunnel anyway. It could be possible that it's another agent of his, but something about her is different. She's not a normal girl.

"Wiley, who was that?"

His expression hardens. "We can't stay on the line too long. Future communications will have to be shorter. I'm routing it through a maze, but it could still be traced if someone were clever enough to check the older infrastructure."

Henri and Jimmy still haven't left the room, so I behave and don't bother asking again. "Okay. Bye, Uncle Wiley."

He hesitates. I can see him drawing in his breath, opening his mouth while searching for something to say. "Paula, it's good to see you again. We'll talk soon."

I give a nod. He shuts down his line first, and then I do the same, not wanting to turn around and face Henri and Jimmy with whatever counts for pity visible in their eyes.



Henri takes me back. It's late enough that it's nearly time for dinner. As we walk, eyes fall on us and then quickly away. More people are aware of my existence, but it's something they just don't talk about. Like Brandon and his daughter.

Before he left on his trip to the border to meet with other tribes, he told me, "I love her, but it's probably better this way for now."

I don't remember how it came up. Or maybe I remember exactly how it came up. That I confessed how strange I still feel with Henri, how odd it is to meet a man who is supposed to be my father and at the same time so much more to so many other people.

And that's when his own words slipped from him, when he spoke without even looking at me. "I'm afraid that's how Melissa is going to think of me."

Henri and I walk up the stairs to his apartment. He always waits for me to go up first without saying a word. We still don't speak very much, but there seems to be something of an understanding between us. It's possible that it's all in my head, but I have a feeling that it isn't. That's all I really have left now, my feelings about things and people that I hope will help guide me the right way.

In the apartment, Henri starts dinner, and I just hang around watching him even though I don't have anything to say. He doesn't protest or give me any strange looks. He doesn't even sigh as much as he used to. It's almost like we've always known each other.

That dream comes to me sometimes in the morning when Henri is cooking bacon that sizzles on the pan. The one where I'm a little girl in someone's arms and that person is protecting me. Something tells me that it's less of a dream and more of a memory. But I'll never ask him and I don't think he'd admit it.