Chapter 63: Chapter 63

Judea was much different from Gretchintown. In Rain’s hometown, all of the streets were perfectly straight. Blocks were square. Buildings were constructed in even rows so that everywhere one looked, they’d see order and structure. As she walked from Esther’s home to the armory building where the bi-weekly dances were held, she couldn’t help but notice how chaotic the layout of the little town was. Houses were sprinkled haphazardly beneath the faux sky, tinges of pink and orange catching their nonuniform roofs as the fake sun went down behind a row of fluffy white virtual clouds. None of the houses looked the same. None of the roads were straight; they all curved and arched and wound around the structures. It was a beautiful mess, one that made Rain’s eyes dart from one place to another, a smile on her face.

Even the road itself made little sense to her. It wasn’t asphalt or even concrete. Rather, it seemed all of the roads in this area of the mountain were made of gravel, poured over top of the mountain bottom, perhaps to make it smoother for the vehicles to travel on. Not that many of them operated inside of the town. She knew the boats and larger vehicles were all kept in a huge garage near the tunnel that they’d used to enter the mountain. She didn’t remember being brought in that way, but Esther had told her all about it later, after she’d awoken and was able to hold a conversation. Small plumes of dust kicked up as she walked across the gravel in her borrowed pink high heels, size six. With no breeze to speak of inside of the mountain, it resettled. She’d traversed many types of surfaces lately, but this one reminded her of home in a way she couldn’t quite explain--not the home she’d left, but the home she hoped to have. Someday. A home with unexpected turns and houses that looked nothing like one another amidst churches, schools, shops, and other buildings she thought the perfect home town must have.

A few other people were headed toward the armory building as well. She only knew where she was headed because Seth had pointed it out to her before he left. He’d apologized for not walking with her. It seemed he’d spoken to Hannah about the possibility of not picking her up and that had not gone over well. So… he’d left twenty minutes before Rain so he could walk across town to get Hannah and escort her to the dance, like a proper boyfriend, despite insisting to Rain he was not dating Hannah.

It was fine with her that he’d gone on ahead because she didn’t want to give any of the townsfolk the impression that Seth was dating her. Not that the idea was embarrassing or that she wouldn’t be proud to be on his arm. He would have to come back here someday, after he delivered her party to Louis City, and if others shared the same sentiment as that dreadful Daniel Redd, Seth might face ridicule. He didn’t need that, and she didn’t want to be the one to cause any sort of difficulty in his life--any more difficulty than she already had. As it was, he’d gone to an awful lot of trouble for them already, and he intended to do much more.

Rain slowed as she approached the building. The soft sound of music drifted to her out the door, propped open so that attendees could walk right in. She couldn’t quite see through the open entryway yet, but the music was lovely. In Gretchintown, most of the music didn’t appeal to her. Marches and anthems pervaded the radio stations. She liked some of the nature songs Mist played from time to time, but this song, even though she couldn’t make out all of the lower notes, seemed much more enjoyable.

A couple walked into the armory, the tall, thin boy’s arm around the girl’s shoulders. She was pretty, wearing a green dress that fell just above her knees and black heels. Her hair was twisted up in the back, and her earrings were round, and white--maybe pearls. Rain glanced down at her own dress and was glad it was of a similar style. The rosy pink color was not one of her favorites, but Esther insisted it looked lovely with her creamy complexion and red hair. Mary had brought this one because it was her eldest daughter’s favorite dress--but it didn’t fit her anymore. Rain didn’t ask why. She’d simply thanked the midwife and gotten dressed. Esther’s amethyst earrings and a necklace with a thin gold chain, the pendant of a golden heart her husband had given her when they were first married, finished off the outfit. Mary had brought over some makeup from one of her daughters as well. Rain had never been much for lipstick, rouge, and the like, but she’d put on a little to appease the two older women who seemed lost down memory lane watching her get ready. It was abundantly clear they had high hopes that this dance would be a once in a lifetime experience for Rain, a memory she’d keep with her always. She had a feeling she’d spend a few hours awkwardly sitting in the corner before she snuck out and headed back home, hopefully after Esther was already in bed or so far in the back of the house she didn’t hear her come in.

Deciding she may as well get on with it, Rain approached the building. Made of brick and rather large, compared to the other buildings in sight, save the school down the windy road, it seemed to be on the older side. She noticed some chinks missing in the mortar, some pock marks in the metal door. It was quaint in a way she couldn’t explain. Once more, she found herself jealous of the people who got to call this place home.

She expected someone to meet her at the door, to take her name or something of that sort, but no one was stationed there. A darkened, narrow hallway led off to another section of the building. On either side, glass cases held old photographs and plaques. She would’ve loved to take her time to peruse them, to learn more about the history of Judea, but she didn’t head that way. Instead, she moved forward, toward the music, and the light pouring from the largest room, one she imagined was constructed for the purpose of holding dances and other public get-togethers.

The song playing now had a faster tempo than the one she’d caught drifting on the air earlier. This one featured a brass instrument she thought might be a trumpet, but she’d never heard it played this way before. It wasn’t trilling out the power of the military. Rather, whomever was playing on the recording seemed to be having fun, teasing the listener, doing her--or his--best to inspire them to move to the beat.

Rain glanced around. Most of the room was empty of furniture so that there was plenty of room for couples, or groups, to dance. Around the perimeter, several round tables were set up with white tablecloths covering them and folding chairs strewn here and there. Again, there was no pattern--six chairs at this table, four at that. One in-between with no home. The tables weren’t in a particular order either. It might’ve driven the Mothers who taught her math classes crazy, but it was a relief to Rain. Even the two rectangle tables near the door she’d entered weren’t exactly the same. Both were covered with white tablecloths, but their edges were not even, and one had lace trim around the border while the other did not. Trays of cookies were set out, as well as some other snacks, and in the center of the first table a large bowl full of pink liquid waited for thirsty dancers. Behind the table, two older women, maybe Esther’s age, sat chatting. Each of them had their legs crossed, one foot swaying to the beat of the music. They smiled and waved at her, and she waved back. They had to know she didn’t belong there, but they didn’t dismiss her. Instead, their smiles implied she was welcome, despite the war she’d brought upon their people.

A few couples, maybe a dozen, were on the dance floor, their arms around one another as they moved in time to the song. Another cluster of people were dancing in a group at the other end of the room. Smiles and laughter indicated they were friends. Male and female, in close proximity to one another, spending time together, the way nature intended. There were about six boys in the group, not quite as many girls. One of the females wore a bright yellow dress, fitted to her curvy form. She had dark brown hair, almost black, cut short. When she laughed, it echoed through the hall, sounding above the music. For a moment, Rain let herself imagine what it would be like to be friends with this girl and smiled.

The door she’d come in wasn’t the only one that accessed the large space. She saw at least three other entry points. One of them opened and a couple of young men walked in, laughing. Beyond them, Rain saw the fake sky. She wondered if the door she’d accessed was the only one that didn’t lead directly outside or were there other hallways, other trophy cases and picture displays?

The two young men joined a group standing over by the tables across from Rain. It was then that she realized Seth was already there. He didn’t have his back to her, but a taller male with jet black hair and broad shoulders had been blocking him until he stepped over to greet the new arrivals. He had a cup of the pink liquid from the table in one hand, but his other arm was incapacitated. A frail looking girl with honey brown hair held so firmly to him, Rain wondered if his circulation might be affected.

The girl had to be Hannah Cooper. She recalled what Seth had said to Adam, when Rain wasn’t supposed to be listening, that Hannah was not his girlfriend. At the moment, it looked otherwise. She was pretty, Rain supposed. With a thin frame and eyes so large, they didn’t quite fit on her narrow face, she was a little odd looking, but not in an ugly way. Her lips were hidden behind mauve lipstick that gave them the illusion of being a little more plump, a little fuller than they were. Seth had kissed those lips; that girl, Hannah Cooper, knew what Seth tasted like. A pang of jealousy hit her in the gut, and not for the first time, Rain remembered that she didn’t belong there.

She turned to go. Despite Esther’s and Mary’s kindness in arranging for her to have everything she’d need to appear to fit in, she didn’t. It would be better if Seth never even saw her, if he just assumed she’d changed her mind before she came all the way over here.

“Hello there,” one of the women behind the refreshment table called, that friendly smile still on her face. “Would you like a cookie?”

Rain’s eyes went to the trays of treats spread out before them. The woman rose, picking up one of the plates and tilting it so that Rain could better see what was available. “The oatmeal raisin is delightful,” she added. “I made them myself.” She winked in a motherly sort of way. Rain found herself stepping closer.

She’d never had an oatmeal raisin cookie before, so she decided she may as well try it. Picking up the last one in the row, she found a smile. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” The woman placed the plate back on the table and found her seat again. Still smiling kindly, she asked, “Are you one of the girls from Michaelanburg?”

Rain had just bitten into the cookie. The woman was right. It was delicious. The texture of the oats mingling with the plump fruit sent a burst of flavor through her mouth. She chewed quickly so that she could answer, but she’d certainly be finishing this scrumptious delight. “I am,” she said, once her mouth was mostly empty.

“I’m Ruth Harris,” the cookie-maker said. “This is Naomi Beckham.”

“How do you do?” The other woman’s smile was just as friendly.

“I’m well, thank you,” Rain said politely, even if it wasn’t quite true at the moment. She finished the cookie, wishing she could have another, but she needed to leave.

“What’s your name?” Naomi asked, adjusting the blue skirt of her dress.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “I’m Rain.” She would’ve gotten reprimanded if she’d been speaking to a Mother and been so rude.

“Rain?” Naomi echoed. “Isn’t that lovely. I’ve never heard of a person named Rain before, but I think it’s splendid.”

“Thank you,” Rain said, remembering how she’d asked Esther what an Esther was.

“What’s your surname, Rain?” Ruth asked.

Rain stared at the woman for a moment, doing her best to figure out what she’d asked. “Surname?” she repeated, never having heard that term.

“Yes, your last name. Your father’s last name,” Ruth explained.

“Ruth!” Naomi said quietly, giving her a little wave of the hand. She attempted to be discreet, but Rain understood what was happening, and she also got the meaning of the word.

Ruth turned a little pink in the cheeks. “I beg your pardon, dear. I guess… you don’t have one of those, do you? Or rather, you don’t know who he might be.”

“No, but that’s okay.” Rain managed a smile, knowing no harm had been intended. She had never spent much time at all thinking about who her father was or what might’ve become of him, but the question found a place in her mind, somewhere she could come back to it later. “We are named after the town where we live, so my name is Rain Gretchintown.”

“Really?” Naomi asked, her eyes wide. “That’s… interesting.”

It was obvious the women were just trying to be polite. While she could’ve stood there all night asking them questions about how life was in Judea, answering their questions about life in Gretchintown, she didn’t feel like discussing her past with two women she’d likely never see again. Besides, she was on her way out the door.

“Would you like some punch?” Naomi was already scooping the pink liquid into a clear cup that looked similar to glastic, the conglomeration of plastic and glass Rain was familiar with, but when the cup reached her hand, she realized it was actually just plastic, something she rarely encountered back home.

She had to take the drink. The woman was so kind in offering it to her. “Thank you.” Rain took a sip. It tasted a lot like cold strawberries, with a few other notes of various juices blended in. “It’s very good,” she said before taking a second swallow.

“Thank you. I made it myself.” Naomi beamed. “My own recipe.”

Rain gave them each a smile and said, “It was nice speaking to you.”

“You as well, dear. Take care,” Naomi said.

“Lovely to meet you,” Ruth added.

Lifting her hand, Rain stepped away from the table, thinking she’d finish her drink and then head out. A trash receptacle near the door became her destination of choice. She figured she would gulp down the rest of the drink--whatever it was called; she couldn’t remember--toss her cup in the garbage, and then sneak out. Several more people had come in since she’d been speaking with the two women at the snack table, so it would be easy for her to go unnoticed. She glanced over at where Seth had been standing, but he wasn’t with his group of friends anymore.

The sound of his voice to her left caught her off guard, and she jumped a little. Her cup wasn’t full enough to slosh on her hand or dress, thank goodness. “Rain, how long have you been here?” Seth asked, stepping between a group of younger individuals congregated between herself and the dancers.

She met his jade eyes, her eyes widening as she realized her plan had been foiled. “Seth! Hi. Not long,” she stammered. “I just, uh… got here a few minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you before.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m just enjoying my… smack.” That didn’t seem right. What was this stuff?

Seth’s forehead crinkled. “What?” he asked, tipping his head to the side.

“My… this. This pink stuff.”

He turned away from her, dragging his hand down his face as he clearly attempted to hide a chuckle. He wasn’t successful as she knew he thought something she’d said was funny. “Punch,” he clarified. “It’s called punch.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head to clear her frazzled brain. “Anyway, I think I’m gonna head back to the house.”

“What? Why?” Seth asked his fingers wrapping around her elbow. “You said you just got here.”

“I know. It’s just… I don’t know. I feel a little out of place.” That was putting it mildly.

Seth shifted on his feet, dropping his head slightly as he removed his hand from her arm and placed both hands on his hips. “Rain, you have to stay a little longer. Come over and let me introduce you to my friends.”

Her eyes went to the spot where she’d seen him earlier. The crowded dance floor made it more difficult to see them now, but she could make out the form of the broad shouldered guy from earlier. She also caught a glimpse of honey blonde hair. Walking over there with Seth, meeting his friends, including Hannah and maybe that awful Daniel Redd person, just didn’t seem like a good idea. “I’m sure they’re wonderful people, Seth, but there’s not much point is there? I’ll be leaving soon. Either they’ll ask me questions I don’t know how to answer, or they’ll feel interrogated by me. Really, I think I’ll head back and see how Mist is doing.”

“Rain, you can’t come to a dance and not dance,” Seth insisted. “Come on, just for a little bit.”

He took hold of her hand and was moving her to the dance floor, taking the mostly empty cup from her grasp and depositing it on an empty table as he backed between couples without even looking to see where he was going, as if he knew they would part ways when they sensed him coming.

Protesting seemed like the obvious thing to do, but the way he was moving her, with a sense of purpose, toward a destination she was curious about, caused the words to congregate in her throat, none of them making their way out of her parted lips. By the time Seth found a spot on the crowded dance floor that he was happy with, she’d given up the entire idea of insisting she go. One of his hands was wrapped around her fingers, the other on her hip. Despite his light touch, warmth radiated through the thin fabric of the dress. No man had ever put his hand there, had he? Had Adam? She didn’t think so. If he had, it had been an accident. Seth purposely had his hand there, near her waist, and was already moving in time to the music, which wasn’t fast or slow at the moment.

With one hand caught in his, she tried to remember where she’d seen the other girls putting their free hand. A quick glance around gave her the answer she needed. Dropping her hand onto Seth’s shoulder, she kept her fingers together, her entire appendage bending at the first knuckle like a glastic scoop. It was unnatural and felt stiff, especially compared to the way he was gently gliding her around the small section of the dance floor he’d claimed just for them.

“Relax, Rain.” His easy smile illuminated the fact that it was more than just her hand that was rigid. She did her best to do as he suggested but felt her muscles still on high alert. This was all so new and different. Seth smelled like the same spicy cologne or aftershave he always wore, but it was a little stronger, as if he’d put on an extra spritz for the occasion. The masculine scent wafted toward her as they moved, inviting her closer. She wanted to comply with his request, but the jumble of emotions inside of her was just as tangled as her protest had become. She loved Adam, but she wanted Seth’s arms around her more tightly, and she couldn’t understand why.

“You’re a pretty good dancer,” Seth said, his mouth not far from her ear. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“I’m sure,” Rain said, trying not to shout above the music, but she wasn’t about to turn her face so that her lips were any closer to his freshly shaven cheek. Thoughts of the awkward kiss she’d attempted to plant on Adam’s lips came to mind. If she turned her head just a bit, and Seth did the same, his mouth could be on hers with little effort at all. If he wanted to kiss her. But why would he want to do that? Rain found herself glancing over his shoulder in the direction of Hannah Cooper.

She was there, all right. Standing where she had been a few moments ago. With no one to cling to, her thin arms were folded in front of her, a scowl marring her pretty face. Clearly, she was agitated. It didn’t take a mind reader to know who she was angry at.

“Seth, maybe this isn’t a good idea,” Rain said, her protest coming to fruition now that she realized she was hurting someone else.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. “You’re doing great.”

“It isn’t that.” He tipped his head down, so close now that her eyelashes brushed his skin as she moved to look him in the eyes. That was a mistake, too. The hurt expression she saw on Hannah’s face was beginning to form in front of her. “I’m just….” The sentence was lost when her eyes met his. She didn’t want to be the one to make him look like that--disappointed, rejected. Especially since rejection was the last thing on her mind at the moment. His hand was on the small of her back now as they’d moved closer together. Her eyes lowered to his lips. Soft, pink, she knew they’d be warm. Back to his jade orbs, her eyes lingered. All she could manage was, “Hannah.”

“Oh.” Seth looked away, but not to where the girl was standing, staring at them so intently, if she were capable of shooting laser beams from her eyeballs, Rain would’ve been dead the moment her foot fell onto the dance floor. “Rain, you really don’t have to worry about her.” His eyes were on hers again, the wounded expression replaced by something else.

It wasn’t guilt, exactly. More like… exasperation, as if he’d done everything he could to convince Hannah Cooper it just wasn’t going to work out, but she still couldn’t quite grasp the meaning of his words. Seth dipped his head slightly, shook it a few times. Rain understood without him needing to further explain. She’d felt that way herself before--back when Adam was suddenly upset with her for a reason she couldn’t understand. Now, she realized he must’ve felt exactly the same way, thinking she’d been rejecting him when all she’d meant to tell him was that she wanted him to be happy.

But Adam’s face was slipping out of her mind’s eye the closer she moved to Seth. The music changed to something slower, and his other hand slid down around her waist, pulling her within a tablet’s breadth from his muscular chest. She noted the other women wrapping their free arm around the necks of their partners and did the same. Some of the girls had their head resting on firm pectoral muscles. Should she do that, too? The picture on the front of Mist’s book came to mind, and once again, she found herself curious about Seth’s lips.

It wasn’t necessarily the urge to lay her head on his chest that had her doing so as much as it was avoidance of the other dangerous thought that had come to mind. Rain found herself ducking the possibility of a second awkward attempt at expressing her emotions through a kiss by resting her ear just above Seth’s heart. With the beat of the music so loud in her other ear, she didn’t expect to be able to hear the thumping of his heart, but she could. It wasn’t smooth and confident, the way his dance steps glided across the floor; it was erratic and wild, the way Rain assumed her own heart was beating. The constant reminder that Adam was out there risking his life to save her--not just their entire group but specifically her--had Rain feeling the stab of guilt she’d expected to see on Seth’s face earlier for Hannah Cooper. But she didn’t move away from him. Instead, she let Seth hold her, not speaking, not discussing their pasts or what the future might hold, but listening to a woman’s voice sing softly about how much she loved her man as they moved back and forth, locked in each other’s arms as if that was where they were meant to be.

The song was ending. Rain could tell by the way the refrain began to build, the way the emotion in the woman’s voice warbled the vibrato slightly. Relief that she’d have an excuse to unwrap herself from Seth’s body and head back to his house mixed with the idea that she would also have to look him in the eyes as she made her excuse--again--and ducked out. As close as she stood to him now, it would be difficult, looking into those green eyes and not remembering that a few seconds earlier, she’d been listing the reasons why kissing him was a bad idea.

As the last notes echoed around the dance floor, and a new, up tempo song began, Rain pried her head from Seth’s shoulder and stepped back so that a full foot separated them. “I should go,” she began.

“You don’t have to, Rain. Come meet my friends. Peter’s over there.”

She glanced in the direction of the group he’d been standing with earlier. It was virtually the same group as had been standing there before, though she didn’t see Hannah anymore, and all of them seemed to be doing their best not to look at them while simultaneously looking at them.

“Really, Seth, I should go,” she said again. This time, he didn’t get the chance to protest before his arm was being tugged in the opposite direction.

It was Hannah. No wonder she hadn’t seen the girl standing with the others. “Seth, let’s dance,” Hannah said, not even looking in Rain’s direction.

“We will, Hannah,” he said as Rain took a few steps backward, away from him. He looked at her, made a half a shuffle in her direction as Hannah tugged him back to her side.

“Just a minute. Rain--”

“I’ll see you at home,” she said, managing a smile she hoped read as carefree, though it wasn’t. She didn’t want to leave Seth with Hannah, but at the same time, she didn’t want to be the girl who took him away from her either. Up close, Hannah looked even more frail, more fragile, than she had from across the room. It was as if Seth were her oxygen, and without him, she wouldn’t be able to draw a single breath. Wasn’t it bad enough that Rain would be taking him out of town for at least a few days, maybe longer? “Bye, Seth.”

“No, wait,” he said, his arm stretching out in Rain’s direction. She slid between a few couples who were dancing with gusto to the fast music. Hannah must’ve yanked harder as Seth came whirling around. Whatever he was saying to her, it was clipped. His eyebrows were knit together, his lips a thin line. When he turned back to Rain, he shouted, “You shouldn’t go alone,” but that didn’t stop her from spinning on the heel of her borrowed shoe to find the nearest exit. She was almost there now, and even if Hannah released him entirely, he wouldn’t reach her before she found the fresh air anyway, not with the twirling couples between the two of them.