Read Online Broken by Susan Jane Bigelow - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susan Jane Bigelow
Tags: Fiction
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a week straight, then stopped. She still wasn’t speaking with Jane. Whenever Jane came near, Broken hid.
From time to time, Michael stood near her door and listened to her weep quietly.
I want no part of other people’s pain , Michael thought. At least, not any more than I have already. And he went to find Janeane, or to sit where she had been and absorb more of her peace.
* * *
The others seemed not to notice that they had stayed far beyond what they had originally said. Every morning, Andrew would come to Michael’s room and smile, saying, "You’re welcome to stay longer."
And Michael would say, "Thank you." And they’d stay longer. Michael had no wish to hurl himself back into the freezing world. He started to avoid Ian and Broken, and stopped looking in the mirror.
Whenever he saw fire licking at the edges of his vision, he ran for Janeane so he could see the ocean rocking back and forth, bobbing up and down, over and over…
Janeane was always happy to see him. Sometimes, as he lay tossing and turning from his dreams, she would put her cool hands on his forehead, and whisper things he didn’t understand in his ears. "This is for you, Prophet," she said. "Only for you."
Sometimes she seemed tired and haggard, but whenever Michael or Monica asked her about it, she put them off, saying she’d just had a long day. She’d been having a lot of long days, lately.
Outside, the world was tilting sharply downwards. But Michael took no notice of it. He rarely ventured out into the cold. He tuned out the hushed, heated discussions of politics and Reformists. What did he care for them? He was safe here.
* * *
Broken came to him just after the new year. "Ian," she said. "Valen."
She looked cold, determined, insistent. He waved her off.
"Soon," he promised. "Let me rest. We’ll go soon."
"Men," she grumbled, and wandered off.
* * *
At times, he did venture outside with Monica. She liked to take walks down to a nearby pond, where she could feed the few ducks that remained.
"So tell me about Janeane," he said one cold January day. The pond hadn’t frozen over completely, so the ducks were still bobbing on its surface. Michael and Monica tossed bread crumbs at them; they picked them out of the air when they could, and swam hard after them when they missed.
"Oh, she’s a friend of mine from when I was in college," Monica said. "She's older than me, but we got along really well.. She kind of got me involved with the rhi . At least, that’s how I got interested in one of Andrew’s Xenoculture classes. Janeane kept bugging me to go. And so I did. I guess it’s hard to not do what Janeane says." She laughed.
"Yeah," Michael agreed. The ocean roared in his memory.
"She’s not from around here. I think she grew up somewhere a lot warmer, in the south or maybe the Caribbean. She never said, and I didn’t ask. She likes to keep secrets."
"Mmm," Michael said. He could see that.
"How’s your friend? B?"
"Fine... I think. I see her creeping around the house at night, and she’s been getting drunk a lot, but she’s not stealing anything and she’s still around. I guess that’s a start."
Monica giggled, her green eyes bright. "Jane won’t talk about her anymore. All she does is play with Ian. It’s like she has a new kitten."
"I’m glad Ian’s happy," Michael said, tuning out. Ian… Ian…
There was a man signing a piece of paper. There would be peace and unity for a century. Peace...
He let himself relax and forgot about it.
* * *
Broken knocked on his door one day not long after. She was completely sober; her gaze was hard and quick.
"Hey. We should go," was all she said.
Michael shook his head. "We need to make sure Ian is all better. Patience. I’m still coming up with a plan." He seemed out of it, his eyes faraway and dreamlike.
Broken grunted and left.
She passed Janeane in the hallway later that day, and glared at her. Janeane only smiled; she was infuriatingly difficult to
From time to time, Michael stood near her door and listened to her weep quietly.
I want no part of other people’s pain , Michael thought. At least, not any more than I have already. And he went to find Janeane, or to sit where she had been and absorb more of her peace.
* * *
The others seemed not to notice that they had stayed far beyond what they had originally said. Every morning, Andrew would come to Michael’s room and smile, saying, "You’re welcome to stay longer."
And Michael would say, "Thank you." And they’d stay longer. Michael had no wish to hurl himself back into the freezing world. He started to avoid Ian and Broken, and stopped looking in the mirror.
Whenever he saw fire licking at the edges of his vision, he ran for Janeane so he could see the ocean rocking back and forth, bobbing up and down, over and over…
Janeane was always happy to see him. Sometimes, as he lay tossing and turning from his dreams, she would put her cool hands on his forehead, and whisper things he didn’t understand in his ears. "This is for you, Prophet," she said. "Only for you."
Sometimes she seemed tired and haggard, but whenever Michael or Monica asked her about it, she put them off, saying she’d just had a long day. She’d been having a lot of long days, lately.
Outside, the world was tilting sharply downwards. But Michael took no notice of it. He rarely ventured out into the cold. He tuned out the hushed, heated discussions of politics and Reformists. What did he care for them? He was safe here.
* * *
Broken came to him just after the new year. "Ian," she said. "Valen."
She looked cold, determined, insistent. He waved her off.
"Soon," he promised. "Let me rest. We’ll go soon."
"Men," she grumbled, and wandered off.
* * *
At times, he did venture outside with Monica. She liked to take walks down to a nearby pond, where she could feed the few ducks that remained.
"So tell me about Janeane," he said one cold January day. The pond hadn’t frozen over completely, so the ducks were still bobbing on its surface. Michael and Monica tossed bread crumbs at them; they picked them out of the air when they could, and swam hard after them when they missed.
"Oh, she’s a friend of mine from when I was in college," Monica said. "She's older than me, but we got along really well.. She kind of got me involved with the rhi . At least, that’s how I got interested in one of Andrew’s Xenoculture classes. Janeane kept bugging me to go. And so I did. I guess it’s hard to not do what Janeane says." She laughed.
"Yeah," Michael agreed. The ocean roared in his memory.
"She’s not from around here. I think she grew up somewhere a lot warmer, in the south or maybe the Caribbean. She never said, and I didn’t ask. She likes to keep secrets."
"Mmm," Michael said. He could see that.
"How’s your friend? B?"
"Fine... I think. I see her creeping around the house at night, and she’s been getting drunk a lot, but she’s not stealing anything and she’s still around. I guess that’s a start."
Monica giggled, her green eyes bright. "Jane won’t talk about her anymore. All she does is play with Ian. It’s like she has a new kitten."
"I’m glad Ian’s happy," Michael said, tuning out. Ian… Ian…
There was a man signing a piece of paper. There would be peace and unity for a century. Peace...
He let himself relax and forgot about it.
* * *
Broken knocked on his door one day not long after. She was completely sober; her gaze was hard and quick.
"Hey. We should go," was all she said.
Michael shook his head. "We need to make sure Ian is all better. Patience. I’m still coming up with a plan." He seemed out of it, his eyes faraway and dreamlike.
Broken grunted and left.
She passed Janeane in the hallway later that day, and glared at her. Janeane only smiled; she was infuriatingly difficult to
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