Page 37 of Longing for Liberty
No. No!
“Fine,” I blurted. “…Roberta.”
She eyed me, and I thought I might throw up right there. Finally, Mrs. Durgess nodded and pointed at me. “Roberta? Yes! I’m calling the State Force. It’s my civic duty.”
“Ma’am—”
“I can’t live with myself if I don’t,” she snapped, turning abruptly to walk to her bus stop.
The swirl of nerves I’d been feeling morphed into a full-blown maelstrom of panic inside me. Rebecca’s face flashed in my mind as my bus pulled up, and I rushed to climb on with a few others. My skin crawled the entire ride as I stood there, catching myself glaring at the State Force paper that hung and forcing myself to look away from it. I had to do something. If Rebecca was taken in for questioning, or God forbid tortured, she could be linked to the resistance. I couldn’t let her get questioned. I couldn’t let any attention be brought to her.
I barely processed the walk to the maid’s office or whatever Kathy might have said to me as I checked in. By the time I got into the penthouse, I was beside myself with worry. I opened the door and nearly dropped the basket when I saw Amos Fitzhugh standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.
I’d gotten really good at hiding my emotions…at least I thought I had. It was disturbing that he could tell so quickly something was off. And the way he was eyeing me, like he would find and kill whatever had hurt me, made me pause. And then, pushing aside all thoughts or doubts, I quickly spoke.
“There’s an older woman who lives near me, three doors down. She’s…not right. I think maybe she has dementia or something. She said the name Roberta. And this morning, she told me she thinks I’m a lesbian, and she’s going to report me! I?—”
“It’s okay.” He moved forward and took my upper arm. I was trembling. “What’s her name?”
“Um, Mrs. Durgess.”
“I’ll take care of this. You can put it out of your mind.” His eyes, always so alert and probing, were actually a little softened at that moment, and I let the relief I felt wash over me. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe steadily. I could get into so much trouble if this backfired.
“What will happen to her?” And now the stupid guilt wanted to gallop up at the thought of seeing the frail woman in the neighborhood stocks. Not that I should feel bad, but ugh!
The corner of his eternally unsmiling mouth quirked up the tiniest bit in the corner, making me feel strangely warm.
“Don’t worry about that either. We have a community for the aging. You did a good thing letting us know. We can’t have people lying about good workers.”
I swallowed and nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
As he took out his phone and began dialing, I bustled away from him to the kitchen, feeling again like I might throw up. I was not made for this much stress. High blood pressure. Stomach issues. Sleep disturbance. I’d probably end up having a heart attack soon at this rate. And then I remembered the sisters who worked to kill SS. Had they been under this kind of stress? Had either of them suffered anxiety? Just thinking about them made me feel less alone. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as I heard Fitzhugh’s voice murmuring from the other room.
“Thank you,” he said, moving toward the kitchen. He pulled the phone down and looked at me. “Mrs. Durgess called in a neighbor named Roberta minutes ago. The call is being deleted from record, and she’s being taken to new quarters today.”
I pressed a hand to my chest in utter relief. “Thank you so much.”
He stood close, looming over me, and I felt a flash of fear. Was I supposed to…thank him? In a physical way? I stared up at him stupidly, my fingers fiddling, the blood in my body shifting in ways that disturbed me and made me light-headed.
His phone suddenly rang, making me jump.
Fitzhugh nodded at the counter behind me. “Eat your breakfast, Liberty.” And then he turned and answered his phone, walking into the living area where he sat on the sofa with an ankle over his knee.
I listened as I took the lid off my plate and found two slices of fresh bread, four deviled eggs, and a small bowl with diced red pepper, corn, and what looked like soybeans. Fitzhugh’s voice rang out across the space.
“Why are you concerned about them playing music and dancing?” he asked. Long pause. “Yes, I know it’s againstourlaws, but they’re not technically citizens under the law yet. That will come in time—” He broke off to listen again, then leaned forward, his voice lowering. “I swear, Lieutenant, if any of you breach the wall to try and break up a silly gathering, you will be court-martialed and sent to a work camp. Do not put our entire operation at risk.Stand down.” Another pause. “Yes, and I understand the VP’s worries about a cultural uprising, but Community Five knows what is against them outside of those walls. They’re just blowing off steam. They will not breach the wall or sea.”
Community Five was dancing…my heart soared as I imagined people giving the middle finger to the State by literally living their lives and experiencing joy.
The Secretary stood and shoved his phone in his pocket, looking annoyed, and he left the penthouse without a backward glance, shutting the door behind himself with more force than necessary.
I filed away everything I’d heard as I ate my food and tried not to smile.
SIXTEEN
STATE NEWS: STATE DRINKING WATER CONTAINS HUNDREDS FEWER CONTAMINANTS THAN EVER BEFORE!
