CHAPTER TWELVE
DEUS
“You’re my kind of guy, Momo. Every week, I eagerly wait for Sundays and Wednesdays, since I know those are the days I’ll get to see you,” she says. “I used to look forward to the day I would get away from here, but I don’t think that’s going to happen, do you?”
“No.”
Again, here I am speaking to her. Here I am, engaging with her. I know better. I’ve been trained better. So why is it that when I see her, I forget all of that?
“Never?” she asks. There’s pain in her voice. I can hear it; I just can’t do anything about it.
“No.”
“Why?”
Isn’t that the very question? But I’m not allowed to think about the “whys,” I’m only to do what I’m told. “Because that is what the elders say.”
“What did they do to you to make you like this?” she asks. “How old are you? Twenty-five, maybe? Have you ever beenhugged? Have you ever been told that you are loved? Do you know what a hand feels like when there is kindness? The others are husks. Their personalities have been beaten out of them, but there’s something inside of you. Something that’s still fighting.” She reaches out and cups my face. “I know it. You know it.”
I jerk back from her and grab her throat in my hand. “Do not try to trick me with your lies.”
She watches me closely, her blue eyes bright in the darkness of this room. She leans her cheek into my hand. “When we both get out of here, I want to show you my favorite spot. It’s such a lovely spot. So lovely. But I’m never going to see it, am I, Mo? Because of you, I’m never going to see it.”
Her head is cold in my hand, her flesh gray. There are holes where her eyes once were, and even though she can no longer look up at me, her mouth is smiling.
“Because you took it all, didn’t you, Mo?”
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t the one who took it from you.”
“Then why do you keep staring at me with those eyes?”
I jerk back, scaring Pocket Lint whose tail poofs out while she jumps.
“What’s wrong?”
Startled, I look over at Ellison as I realize that I must have fallen asleep on the couch. How could I just fall asleep like that?
“What happened?” Ellison asks.
I look up at him. “What happened is that I have failed my forefathers and slumbered on the job.”
“Do youeversleep?”
“I shall slumber when I’m dead.”
“You were upset about something.”
“Yes… I was… I was upset that I forgot to brush my hair before this quadruple date. It inflicted great horror upon my soul.”
He grabs my head in a headlock and paws through my hair. “There, now it looks like it usually does—unkempt. Is your soul still suffering?”
I grin up at him, pleased by the petting I’ve just received. He seems to be horrified at the realization of what he’s done as he hurriedly extracts his hand.
“Asmodeus, are you going to answer anything I’ve asked honestly?”
“It’s not likely,” I admit, beaming at him. “You’ve been uneasy yourself. Where is your lucky doll?”
“I’m not stabbing a doll with pins. It solves nothing and causes more violence.”
