Connection - 9

~1041 words

Ruth opened the door, a slightly haunted look in her dark eyes. But when her gaze fell on Kerra, recognition sparked and she broke out into a smile.

“Kerra!” her mother said, gesturing for her to come in. “It’s been far too long.”

Ruth’s apartment was furnished with the simplicity and chicness that only the quietly rich could afford. Everything was black, white or silver, and very geometrical. The place was carefully free of clutter, where every surface of Kerra’s apartment tended to build up the flotsam of daily life. Ruth’s apartment felt too sterile to Kerra, whereas her own apartment felt cozy and warm and lived-in. Sure, she cleaned it up for guests, but Kerra had dropped in on Ruth without warning and there wasn’t a single minimalistic decorative vase out of place. It gave Kerra the chills.

Ruth hadn’t always been this way. Back before they had all gone into stasis, their mother hadn’t cared about neatness at all, and the apartment they’d grown up in was always a mess. But after stasis… It was a different story entirely.

Ruth had gone on and on about how stasis had given her an opportunity to start over and live how she’d always wanted to. Kerra had been confused. As far as she knew, their mother had been living how she’d wanted. Kerra sometimes wondered if stasis had affected Ruth’s brain. It had been known to happen, and most of the original settlers of Abyssia had been completely and actually insane after so many millions of years in stasis. Thankfully only the strange anomalies they had developed were genetic, and not the craziness.

And Ruth wasn’t insane, she had just changed so radically. Where she had once been warm, creative, and jubilant, now she was precise, practical, and serious. Now she wanted to be called “Ruth” rather than “mom.” She still cared deeply for her daughters, but she showed it in quite a different way than she had.

After some small talk, Kerra decided it was time. She took a deep breath and looked Ruth straight in the eye. “I have… news. Regarding Shandi.”

Ruth tilted her head, questioning. She was perched on the edge of a low white couch that was identical to the one Kerra was sitting on. It was very uncomfortable.

“You see… well, I tried to get her to tell you herself, but she um, didn’t want that. She tried to get me to not tell you anything at all, but I thought you should know.”

“Out with it, Kerra,” Ruth said, her tone clipped, but Kerra could see the edge of fear creeping into her eyes.

“Well, it’s just that… Well, you know she’s in a gang and all,” Kerra began.

Ruth scoffed, but said nothing.

“Um, she volunteered herself and her gang to… Uh, go to the surface?” Kerra winced.

Ruth looked thoroughly confused. “What do you mean? Explain what you’re saying.”

“They’re going to leave Abyssia, and go out. On the surface. And look for other people living in… like foxholes or something. I don’t exactly understand.”

Realization dawned on Ruth’s face, soon replaced by horror. “She can’t,” she gasped.

Kerra grimaced, and shifted on the hard, blocky couch. “She is.”

“But how? They don’t just have… exits! And why? Why would she do such a thing? Does she really hate me that much?”

Kerra bit down on her tongue. Normally, it might seem like overexaggeration to blame Shandi’s wanting to leave just on her rocky relationship with Ruth, but Kerra thought of what she had heard Shandi say: “She can go die for all I care.” She clearly harbored plenty of enmity for the woman.

Instead, Kerra just said, “I’m sure there’s a way to get out of the city. They have those power plants up there, and someone must do upkeep on them occasionally.”

Ruth just shook her head, her eyes unfocused. “I can’t believe it. My own daughter, my pride and joy, is throwing her life away. My own daughter is going on a suicide mission that will help absolutely no one.” She buried her face in her hands, and her black hair cascaded down in front of them.

“I can’t believe it either,” was the only thing Kerra could think of to say.

“Why?” Ruth moaned, then repeated, “Why, why why?”

Kerra didn’t have an answer, so she just stayed silent.

“I should call the police on her,” Ruth said, her tone suddenly flat. She hadn’t lifted her head yet, so the sound of her voice was somewhat muffled by her hands.

Kerra bristled, suddenly defensive. “I don’t know if—”

Ruth let out an exasperated sigh and sat up again, dragging her hands down her face. “I won’t, but I should. It’s the logical thing to do. It’s the right thing to do. But for some reason, I’m not going to do it.” She let out a half-maniacal laugh. “I can’t believe it. I’m not going to try to save my own daughter. Maybe I really am a monster.”

Kerra was quiet. She noticed that the haunted look that had been in Ruth’s eyes when she’d answered the door was back.

Ruth abruptly stood up and started pacing, her stiletto heels creating a rhythmic clicking on the glossy black floor of the apartment. “I have to see her before she goes at least. I have to see my baby one more time. But she won’t see me. Oh Kerra, what do I do?” She paused in her pacing and stared at Kerra.

Kerra realized with a shock that there were actual tears in Ruth’s eyes. She hadn’t seen Ruth cry since Everen had gotten on the spaceship. “I don’t know,” Kerra said quietly. “I don’t know. I just thought I should tell you.”

Ruth turned to face the wall, covering her eyes with one hand. “Thank you Kerra, I appreciate that. Now… I think I would like to be alone.” Her voice broke on the last syllable. “Please leave.”

Kerra crept out of the apartment, closing the door behind her with a soft click. As the pillar’s central elevator’s door slid open, Kerra thought she heard a geometric vase shatter, as if thrown onto a pristine, glossy black floor.