Page 8 of Longing for Liberty

FOUR

STATE NEWS: LOTTERY PRIZE IS THE HIGHEST EVER!

The bus passed several neighborhoods, all lined with patrolling State Force, all with stockades outside their entrances.

When we stopped at the young family apartments to let people off, I noticed a man in the stockades with a bloodied face.

His hands hanging limply through the holes also looked crusted with crimson and misshapen, maybe broken.

A fight? He hadn’t been there that morning.

I quickly looked away as others stared at him, and the bus lurched forward again.

At my stop, I stepped off with the other workers and stood on the sidewalk, staring at the squat lines of single-story row homes smashed together to accommodate the worker families who were lucky enough to have jobs serving the government officials.

Our neighborhood was mostly couples with no children: either newlyweds starting out or those empty-nesters beyond childbearing years who were not quite old enough for the retirement communities.

Nobody was in our stockades, thankfully.

“Move along,” a State forceman said, jolting me to go.

I felt myself crashing from the high anxiety of the day.

Every time I thought of Amos Fitzhugh’s eyes on me, and remembered I’d have to face him five days a week, my body sizzled and flushed all over again, filling me with the panicked need to run and hide.

My breathing was ragged as I trudged down the sidewalk, vaguely hearing others greet me, and robotically raising a hand and the corner of my lips to be polite in return.

I got to our stoop and quickly slipped inside.

“Hey, Lib, there you are.” Jeremy moved into the hall from the tiny kitchen, slinging a hand towel over his shoulder and smelling like spaghetti sauce.

His familiar smile and single, deep dimple made my wall of numbness accidentally crumble, and the air sputter in my lungs.

His smile fell as he took in my face. I moved silently into his arms, and all of the fear I’d been holding back that day shuddered through my body.

I tried not to cry, but a pathetic whimper escaped when I tried to breathe.

“I’ve got you,” Jeremy whispered into my hair.

I held him tightly, noticing how much thinner he was.

He’d always had a boxer’s lean physique, but lack of adequate protein had robbed him of some of his muscle and all of his fat, which hadn’t been much to begin with.

He was still strong though, and he stood tall.

I forced myself to pull back and give him a watery smile, even though my chest felt like it was being pressed in by the hand of a cruel giant. And maybe it was. Because I’d now be working in the inner sanctum of one of the three biggest giants of all.

Jeremy walked me over to the table, and we sat facing one another, knees touching. It was warm and stagnant in the apartment. I looked over at the wall AC unit. It was set to 72, which was as low as we were allowed to set it, but the air that blew out was definitely not 72.

“What’s going on?” he asked lightly. We both knew to be careful when we spoke, even at home.

When we moved into these accommodations four years ago, we were fairly certain there weren’t cameras because the government could not afford to make cameras for every housing unit; however, audio bugs were a possibility.

Though we’d scoured the apartment a million times and never found anything, we were still too paranoid to talk about anything of importance inside. So, I would keep to the facts.

“I started a new job today.” His eyes were wide as he sat still, watching me, waiting. “I’ll be the maid helper for Secretary Fitzhugh.”

Jeremy’s already wide eyes widened further, this time with a flash of terror. “Fitzhugh…wow. That’s…” His face took on several expressions in a row, landing on possessiveness that softened into worry.

“Such an honor,” I said for him.

I watched his jaw tighten as he bent, rubbing a hand over his head, brown hair buzzed short like all working-class men. He shifted in his seat, then cleared his throat. “Yes. This is huge. Congratulations.” His light brown eyes, now resembling a dust storm, did not reflect those sentiments.

We stared at one another. My eyes watered, and he took my hands. The one thing we’d always tried to do was stay under the radar. Never doing anything that would get us noticed.

“Well, I don’t know about you,” Jeremy said, “but I’m hungry. You’re going to need basil from the garden for the spaghetti.” It was actually he who needed basil, but I got his meaning.

“Of course. Let me change real quick.”

I peeled off the uniform, throwing it into the wash, and climbed into my comfortable, loose cotton dress.

It was colorless, like sand, with no frills, falling below my knees.

Then I slipped my feet into the lounging shoes with rubber soles that workers wore at home and in their neighborhoods.

I brushed my hair and redid my ponytail.

“I’ll join you to stretch my legs,” Jeremy said.

He never let go of my hand as we left the apartment and walked down the sidewalk toward the garden.

We were sure to greet everyone along the way.

Walks after work were encouraged, so the sidewalks were busy.

I didn’t relax until we were at the edge of the acre with rows of fruit bushes and vegetable plants, lined with an orchard and nut trees, all for our neighborhood.

The garden backed up against a massive forest.

We walked to the section of herbs. As I stooped to examine the basil leaves, Jeremy squatted and pulled a few weeds, tossing them behind us in the dry grass. Another couple was also in the garden, laughing about the size of a zucchini they’d found, but they weren’t in earshot.

“Libby?”

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “I had a panic attack.” At the way he stiffened with fear, I quickly added, “Nobody saw me. I hid in the bathroom.”

Jeremy ran a hand over his head and down his face, grimacing. “Did you meet him?”

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a chill despite the warmth. “He knew everything about me—must’ve done a background check—and he asked…about the kids.” I stared so hard at the basil that my vision went fuzzy.

“Babe, look at me.” I did. The muscle in his jaw flexed, and he placed a hand on my knee. “I need you to know it’s going to be okay.”

All I could do was nod. By reassuring him, maybe I could reassure myself.

He was quiet for a long moment. “What can we do?” he asked.

“Break one of my legs?” I suggested, letting out a caustic laugh.

“Not funny,” he grumbled. “Why did they choose you?”

“Because I’m older, I think.” I yanked a weed and felt satisfied when the roots came out. “She made it sound like the last girl stole something.” I didn’t want to tell him about the pregnancy, especially since I wasn’t sure what to believe. Jeremy didn’t need that in his head.

“Well, he doesn’t have anything we need, so that won’t be a problem. Just keep your eyes down. Stay quiet.”

I nodded to myself. “Yes.”

A low hum sounded from behind the nearest row of houses, and I went still as I saw Jeremy’s body tense.

A drone. Sure enough, it came out to the garden and did a circle around us.

We kept our attention on the herbs, pretending to be super interested in their growth until the drone buzzed its way back to the sidewalks to monitor others out and about.

I shivered and exhaled. I hated those things, always watching, always listening.

Jeremy reached over and rubbed my knee. “This will be fine.” His voice was full of hope, as if he were manifesting it. “You’ve gotta stay strong. Don’t ever let anyone see you panicking.”

I kept nodding.

Jeremy lowered his voice. “Maybe he won’t be…so bad.”

He was bad. We both knew it. But still, I nodded and shifted a rosemary plant to get underneath it.

The pungent fragrance wafted to me, and I was struck by a stab of longing for my oldest daughter, Summer.

From the time she was old enough to stand on a chair, she’d wanted to be at the kitchen counter with me.

Her favorite thing we made was rosemary bread.

I reached out and snapped off a twig, bringing it to my nose as my eyes burned and my heart swayed.

My babies.

I sniffed hard and cleared my throat. “He’s the one in charge of the military and police, right?” I plucked four basil leaves now. We had to take from the garden carefully so as not to be reported as greedy.

“Yes.” Jeremy held out his hand for the herbs, careful not to bruise them. We both stood to face one another. The massive communal garden was empty now, but I heard voices around corners of neighbors talking and saw two guards patrolling a distance away.

I looked up into my husband’s face. I still found him so good looking after all these years. He had a ruggedness to him from working with his hands in construction that I found sexy. Jeremy, my college sweetheart whom I’d met freshman year, took my chin and looked deep into my eyes.

“No matter what happens, we’ll be okay.”

I nodded my head, afraid I’d cry if I tried to speak. We’d already lost everything except one another. What was I afraid of at this point?

He looked at his watch. “Come on. It’s almost six. I invited Stanley and Rebecca for dinner. You up for that?”

I gave him a small smile and said, “Sure.” Their company would be a good distraction from these thoughts.