“Get away from me!” Charles yelled. “Keep it away!”
Samuel almost reached out for Zei, but stopped. “Wait. What’s wrong?”
Zei whipped her neck back and nearly bared her teeth at him. Samuel held his hands up in surrender.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Zei. It’s okay. Trust me.”
She turned her attention back to Charles, her nostrils flaring.
Charles pointed a shaking finger. “Crazy demon monster!”
“Don’t call her that,” Samuel said sternly. He lowered his arms. Zei stood as fierce as a bear. What had made her snap? He had to get her to calm down and remind her that she was safe.
“No one’s going to hurt you. I promise. Zei. Look at me. I promise you.”
“That thing is mad,” Charles let out in a high-pitched cry. He awkwardly scurried farther behind the hope chest. “I didn’t do anything. I did nothing to you. You hear me? Just leave me alone!”
Samuel swore he saw Zei smirk, perhaps feeling satisfaction in watching Charles cower away. She walked backward until her hand touched the stone wall behind her. She slid down onto her butt and sat with her legs crossed. Her eyes were still fixated on Charles.
Samuel swallowed. He knew that Zei wasn’t a demon. He just knew it. He knew her better than the sheriff or the mayor or Charles or his own father. But he also knew, in that moment, Zei would kill Charles if she could reach him.
Samuel paced along the outside of the cell as Zei doodled in her sketchbook. He wasn’t sure if she was writing more letters or drawing a new picture. As he passed by his coat hanging by the door, he pondered if he should dig inside the pocket and get his knife for protection. It was a fleeting thought. She wouldn’t hurt him. At least, that’s what he chose to believe.
Had his father been right about the exorcism? What if Zei needed deliverance? The thought made him smirk. She had a temper, but that didn’t mean she was under the influence of a demon. Why was everyone so set on that? Why did Charles keep calling her “it”? Couldn’t she just be a girl with violent outbursts? No. She wasn’t normal. Her lack of sexual characteristics was anything but normal. Even Samuel had to admit she wasn’t really a “she.” Zei’s androgynous body and gruesome scars and missing arm were proof of a past that was anything but ordinary. When it came to Zei, he felt like he was the only person thinking rationally about her. She was alone. Perhaps she’d always been that way. Even with his father, he knew what it was to be and feel lonely. He somehow knew Zei felt the same.
“What was that about?” he asked. He dangled his arms between the bars. “You had me scared for a minute.”
Zei ignored his question and continued doodling. Samuel opened the gate and went over to her. Strands of her hair were falling out of the sloppily tied ribbon. He’d need to fix it again. He wasn’t a skilled hairdresser, but he enjoyed messing with Zei’s long hair. It was silky and thick.
“Charles isn’t a bad person. He’s nice. He’s nice to me.”
Samuel looked down at Zei’s paper, crouching down to get a better view. On the paper was a giant face that looked nearly identical to Charles. She’d drawn his slicked-back hair, the fading bruises around his cheek, and a nose that almost seemed a bit too big for his face. But it was more than simply a portrait. She’d added all this shading that made his eyes look sunken and dark. His mouth was open like a beast, his jaw outstretched in a way unnatural for a human. His wet tongue hung out like he was some sort of wild beast about to devour its helpless prey.
Samuel backed away from the disturbing image. He wanted to ask Zei about it, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Zei had made Charles into a demon.
Samuel sat in the cushioned chair beside the wooden box with the white buttons and silver dials. His boots rapped on the hardwood floors as he waited for Charles to return. He had brought him up to the estate and then left him in the giant living room by himself as soon as they got inside.
“I’ve got something I’ve got to do first,” Charles had told him. “Get Thelma to make you something to eat if you want.”
Several minutes after Charles had run out of the room and up the spiral staircase, Thelma came out from the kitchen. She looked exactly the same as the last time he’d seen her. She dusted her hands on her apron and, in a kind voice, asked him if he needed anything. He told her no and thanked her. She smiled a bit and pointed to the stairs.
“You two must be good friends.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re the only person he talks about besides his father. He doesn’t get many visitors.”
“Oh.”
The maid’s insight made Samuel feel more uncomfortable about his visit. He’d never really had a friend before, and being friends with the mayor’s son was probably a fantasy for most of the young people in Haid. He liked Charles. He never treated him like he was only a cleric’s son. Maybe the shadow of their father’s professions was a common factor they shared. But after seeing Zei’s sketch, he couldn’t help but picturing Charles as a monster. It made him a little uncomfortable.
Thelma put a hand on the wooden box next to her.
“Would you like to listen to the radio while you wait?”
Samuel shifted in his seat and gawked at the box. It was a radio.
“If the mayor won’t mind.”
“The mayor is still out,” she said, sounding relieved.
Thelma’s news helped Samuel to relax a bit as well. He had no desire to interact with the mayor. Thelma gently turned one of the knobs, and immediately a hissing sound came out from the netting on the front of the box. She pressed one of the white buttons, and the noise was immediately replaced with the muffled sound of people talking.
“Turn this knob here if you want it louder.”
“Thank you,” Samuel said with a bow.
Thelma left him and went back inside the kitchen. He leaned closer to the box, nearly putting his ear on the netting. It sounded like a discussion between two men about the greenlands, yet he couldn’t make out but a few words here and there. Justice. Poverty. Equal distribution of goods. His fingers carefully turned the dial to the right until the voices got louder.
One of the voices sounded as though he was in the middle of a long description about the greenland cities currently rioting.
“The last count from Emor was 632, Borem 844, and our capital of Medda well over a thousand,” the lamenting voice said. “No educated man could make a valid argument that our political system is working. Our citizens, greenlands, even redlands and whitelands, are dying, because our mayors have run them down with their greed and lack of empathy. And our governor in particular? He’s holed up safely in his greenlands estate doing nothing to address the needs of those who’ve been placed under his care.”
“Are you arguing for a united nation?” the other voice questioned. “And are you implying that you, Julius, are the solution?”
Samuel pushed his glasses back up his nose. His head was bent too far down.