HELPER12, Jack Blaine [reading in the dark .TXT] 📗

I look at Thomas.  He’s been kind to me.  When he didn’t have to be, for any reason at all.

“I’m in,” I say.

Chapter Thirty

I’ve got everything ready.  All of Jobee’s and my clothes are stuffed into the bags Thomas brought me.  I’ve packed the drawing tablet and charcoals, too.  I gave the bottle with the sleeping medication in it to Jobee over an hour ago.  There is really nothing else I can do, except wait.

It’s been dark outside for a long time now.  Thomas said he would be here before dark.  I try not to think about what it means that he isn’t here.  I check on Jobee one more time.  He’s still sleeping.  He looks so happy, evening in this induced sleep.  I wonder what they’ll do to him if we get caught.  I wonder what will happen if Thomas never comes.

“Ready?”  Thomas whispers to me from the door.

He’s here.  He’s here, and I realize how afraid I was that he wouldn’t be able to come to me.  I feel like I’ve been holding my breath since he left.

“We’re ready,” I whisper back.  I pick up the smallest bag, the one with my drawing things, and sling it over my shoulder.  I take Jobee out of his crib and settle him in the baby sling, so that he’s close against my body.  He doesn’t stir.   Thomas takes the bag filled with clothing.  He holds the door open for me, and as I pass through he touches my cheek.  I stop and look up at him.

“We’ll be all right,” he says.

“I know.”  I kiss him on the lips softly.  Then I start down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Thomas stops at one of the cupboards.  He feels for the knob in the dark, and when he finds it he opens the cupboard and slides out a box.  Inside are a dozen bottles of formula, which he shoves into the sack of clothes.  He replaces the box in the cupboard.  We walk out to the courtyard without a word, making as little noise as we can manage.

There’s a slight breeze, and shadows from the potted plants writhe on the courtyard walls.  We walk to the gate, and Thomas keys in a series of numbers in a keypad I’ve never noticed.  The gate slides open and Thomas motions me through.  He follows and we’re on the street.  As the gate slides shut, I look back at the house.

The kitchen light is on.

I freeze.

“Thomas,” I breathe.

He turns, and utters a soft curse.

“Here.”  He pulls me over behind one of the brick columns that flank the gate. We wait, silent, afraid to peek around to see what’s happening, in case Helper is peering out the kitchen window.  The street looks empty and cold.  I wonder what we have been thinking.  How will we ever get away from this place?  What could Thomas have in mind?

As if it’s answering my unspoken question, a motor purrs from somewhere up the street.  I look, but I see no lights.  As I continue to watch, the Sloanes’ vehicle pulls into view, lit from above by the streetlights.

I guess the party ended early.

We’re ruined.  I can’t even cry.  There’s nowhere to run, and Thomas seems to know it too—he stands quite still next to me, awaiting our fate.  I feel him take my hand.

“Okay,” he says.  The vehicle pulls up next to us.  I wonder why the gate isn’t opening.

“Benna?”  Thomas pushes me forward.  “Get in!”

“What?”  I turn to him, incredulous.  The door of the vehicle opens.

“Best hurry up, miss,” says the Driver from his seat.  “I’ve got to get back to the city quick in order to pick up the Sloanes, so they won’t know anything unusual is happening.”

I scramble into the back, shielding Jobee from jolts with my arms.  Thomas loads in the bags and we slide off into the night.

The Driver doesn’t talk, all the way into the city.  Thomas doesn’t either.  It’s a huge risk the man has taken, and I don’t know what to say to him to let him know I understand what he’s done for us.

The city looks different at night; there are multi-colored lights everywhere, and we pass a huge, animatronic advertising display showing robotic women wearing the latest fashions.  The way the robot women are presented, sitting at a table in a make-believe café, reminds me of the animals in the Commons, and I remember how little Thomas and I knew about each other then.  I wonder how much more we really know now, except for that we love each other.  I think that may be all we need to know.  I hope so.

The Driver slows the car, and pulls it over next to a seedy-looking leather shop that’s closed for the night.  He doesn’t turn around.

“Mr. Thomas.”

Thomas leans over the seat toward the Driver.  He reaches out, and the Driver shakes his hand.

“We won’t be back, Driver.”

“I know, Mr. Thomas.”

“Watch out for him, Driver, if you can?”  Thomas’s mouth is set in a grim line.  I know he means his father.

“I’ll try, sir.”

The door clicks open.  Thomas climbs out and unloads our bags.  I lean forward as much as I can with Jobee in his sling on my stomach.

“Thank you, Driver, for this.”  It feels strange calling him just Driver—like it’s his baby name, like he’s my friend—but it’s all I have to give him.  I want to say more, but I don’t have the words.  “Thank you.”

“You watch out for that little one, hear?”  The Driver is looking at me in the rear view mirror.  I meet his eyes.

“I will.”

“And him, too,” says the Driver, tilting his head toward Thomas.

“I will.”  I get out and stand on the curb.  Thomas taps the back of the vehicle.  It slides off into the night.

Chapter Thirty One

We walk down the empty street to the next block.  I recognize it as the one where Deen’s restaurant is, and when I look I see the sign.  It’s not