The bed jerked–Innit swearing with an accompanied thud of hitting the floor–and Kalon jolted from her sleepy daze. She blinked her green eyes at the textured ceiling, held the blankets firmly to chest, and eased up against the pillows.
The clock on the bedside table indicated roughly thirty minutes had gone by, not enough for her to have properly dozed off but apparently enough for Innit to be dressed again. He was busily throwing scattered clothing off the floor into an open, heavily used suitcase.
“A tad late to tidy up for me.”
His shoulders tensed, showing he heard her, but he continued filling the suitcase without raising his head. He tossed her blouse onto the bed as he climbed to his feet.
“Those pants are around here somewhere….”
“There doesn’t need to be so much hurry. It isn’t even ten. Gramps and Grams won’t start to worry until at least eleven.”
She clutched the blankets tighter, pulling her knees to her chest at his lack of acknowledgement. He continued to spin in place, muttering about missing articles of her clothing while tossing his own into the suitcase. His gaze wandered fleetingly during these turns to the open case glowing a faint, sickly, pale blue.
“Is that a laptop?”
He lunged, slamming it shut, causing her to jump. Her heart pounded in her throat.
“Innit?”
“I kept tryin’ to say it, but….” He zipped his suitcase. “I’m goin’. I got stuff I need to do.”
“Okay, sure…. When will–?”
“Not stuff like that. Not stuff like a checklist. Stuff like… stuff. Like the sort that you ain’t get to hang up at the end of the day.” He kept his eyes turned down, his knuckles whitening on his suitcase handle. “All what matters is this stuff….”
Kalon’s eyes prickled. Her throat tightened. Her bare shoulders felt cold despite the warm air. She curled her toes into the sheets beneath the blankets.
Innit was giving the room a once over, muttering under his breath–what about she could not understand. Her mind filled with static.
“You don’t love me, do you?”
He froze, his fingers twitching as his hand hovered above the laptop.
“You never did.” Tears cut down her cheeks. “Oh god, I’m so stupid.”
“You don’t get to ask me that.” Innit shook, his eyes narrowed and shining. “You don’t get to just throw manipulations at me when I’m tellin’ you I got to do this!”
“Manipulations? Is that what you think?”
“Why not? This is the first I’m hearin’ about all this nonsense.”
“Nonsense! I’m asking if you love me!”
Innit snatched up his laptop. “You can’t ask that!” He stormed to the door, stopping, whirling around. “What happened to all the you not askin’ anything of me thing? What about no expectations?”
“It’s different now.”
“Why? Because we started sleepin’ together?” He scoffed. “That ain’t nothing new to either of us, and it’s stupid to think otherwise.”
“It was new for me because I love you!”
She slid her arm around her stomach, hugging herself as he headed for the door. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breathing quickened. She chewed at unspoken words as her mind raced through random fragments from psychology books, romance novels, letters, anything that she could use.
She jerked to her senses at the sound of the door opening. Hot, angry tears fell from her eyes.
“You could build a life if you stayed.”
Innit paused, halfway out the door. “You ain’t gettin’ it.” He glared at her. “My friend died. I ain’t lettin’ him die for nothing.”
She flinched as the door slammed. She stayed perfectly still, ears straining for any sound from beyond the door. She wailed into the silence.
---
Dry coughs echoed around the study hall. One of the three visitors cleared his throat as if staving off a cough of his own. Dustmotes floated in the bans of light.
Kalon paused her walking among the tables–bat resting on her shoulder–to watch the dust sparkle. It was like in the orangerie, minus the mildew smell. She smoothed down her oversized, black tunic, feeling a curve not quite noticeable to anyone but her.
“Pardon, mademoiselle?”
She startled, gripping her bat extra tight. “Yes?”
“Irrigation for this area?” The man held up a tattered book. “This is about ancient Rome.”
“Rome was famous for aqua–.” She forced a smile at his blank expression. “So sorry, sir. Leave it there at your station, and I’ll fetch the proper book.”
The irrigation book was not on the second floor, but that was where she ended up. She wandered into one of the study alcoves, sat on the desk, and sighed up at the ceiling.
Grams and Gramps most assuredly realized there was more to Innit leaving that night than him telling her over dinner. They were too keen to fool, and she made it easy coming in a sobbing, disheveled mess. Grams had taken to staring at her from out the corners of her eyes, no doubt noticing that she had stopped wearing corsets and skin-tight pants.
Kalon wiped her eyes before the tears could fall, took a breath, and headed for the proper section. She gathered two books–one detailed, the other novice–and returned to the study hall. There was only one man there, and one of the missing two had asked her about the irrigation.
She hurried to the remaining man. “Pardon, sir, did those other two–?”
“I want no trouble!” He eyed her bat warily. “They said keep quiet. I’ll keep quiet.”
She smacked the bat on the table. “Which direction?”
Her boots echoed as she raced off in the indicated direction. Her head whipped to catch sight of reference numbers, letters, hanging placards to give her a hint at where they could be going.
She skidded to a halt in the histories area. Her stomach dropped, her mouth agape. They were frantically ripping pages from the books they held, stuffing them in various pockets.
“Stop it!”
Kalon swung her bat, connecting with the shoulder of one man. She caught herself from falling as the other shoved her aside, leaving his screaming partner behind. She glared at the downed man, taking stock of his writhing, and chased the other.
“GRAMPS! VANDAL!”
Her yells rang around the library. The perpetrator would run right into Gramps with there only being one usable exit. It was better if she caught him first.
She hurled her bat towards him, quickly closing the gap as his legs tangled and he toppled over. She reached for the pages sticking from his jacket, recoiling as her eyes flashed to his hand grabbing her bat.
She shuffled back, tripping over her heels and falling hard on her butt. She kicked away in an attempt to crawl backwards without turning her back to him as he slowly staggered up, bat loosely in his hand.
She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, curling into herself. “No!”
“Kalon!”
Bang!
The vandal yelped, dropped the barely held bat, and grabbed his bleeding arm. He ran off as Gramps knelt next to her, placing a firm hand on her shaking shoulders.
---
“Pregnant?”
Kalon flinched at Grams’s tone. She nodded meekly, eyes wet, and wrung her hands in her lap. She tried to clarify, but shut her mouth. She tracked Grams’s pacing before her, hands on her hips.
“How could you be so… so….” She snapped her fingers at Gramps–tucked in a corner of their living room. “What am I looking for here, Vern?”
“Take a breath, Pistachio, love.” Gramps cast his sharp eyes to Kalon. “How this came about, was it willing?”
“Y-yes. Very.” She winced. “S-sorry.”
“Careless!” Grams wagged her finger. “That’s the word. How could you be so careless, Kalon, dear?” She turned to Gramps. “I told you that we should’ve barred that boy from this place! Bad enough when we thought she was just brokenhearted! What a scoundrel to shirk his–.”
“I never told him.” She ran her hand over her stomach. “I couldn’t risk him reacting badly.” Her shoulders shook. “I… don’t believe he would be capable…. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it….”
Grams sighed, sinking into an armchair. “Something will need to be done.”
“P-please….” Kalon held herself tight, tears streaming from her green eyes. “Please, d-don’t….”
“Hush, girl. No one will harm either of you.” Grams covered her face with her gnarled hands. “What to do first? Doctor? Dear, how far along?”
“Th-three months, maybe….”
“Short notice for your visit…. Well, I’ll make calls, see what can be done.” She gave Kalon a hard look from between her fingers. “Kalon, dear, I have a non-negotiable. Do not name this child after any craving.”
She laughed shakily, wiping her eyes. “I can keep it?”
“Of course you can! You’re its mother.” Grams dragged herself from her chair. “Now, to calls. I’ll continue my shock and disappointment for another two weeks at least. You’ve been warned.”
She bobbled her head, new tears forming, as Grams stalked off. She rested her hands over the tiny, unnoticeable bump, caught between sobbing and laughing with relief.
Gramps emerged from his corner, resting his hand on Kalon’s shoulder. “How are you feeling about this?”
She gave him a watery smile. “Better.”
“Good.” He straightened. “To be safe, I’ll limit your work with patrons. And for the near future, you’ll be down here helping Pistachio to repair and re-record those books destroyed today.”
“What–?”
“Old histories on this area back before the colonies. Nothing of real importance; more likely a renewed interest with the heir to Paris Colony being married recently.” His eyes hardened. “Destroying such old books to sell pages at random to bored shut-ins. How disgraceful.” He pat her shoulder. “Rest for now, my dear. I’ll give you the titles tomorrow.”
She murmured a combination of gratitude and apology as he left. She breathed deeply, prodding herself.
“We’re lucky.”
---
The vast slab of asphalt was dotted with cars. It lay before a long building segmented by doors and accompanying signs. Each indicated a different medical specialty.
Kalon exited the door marked for women's health. She still wore her bleach stained sport bra and the librarian’s coat. She now wore old sweatpants, and her long mass of brunette curls were better maintained and tied up. She held her care bag close, searching the parking lot for the silver minivan she arrived in.
The librarian waved her over. He held open the passenger's side door for her.
“Were you able to see the doctor?”
“Just one of the ladies.” Kalon tightened her grip on the bag, jostling the pill container inside. “She said… it was likely a miscarriage.”
The librarian's hands stiffened on the steering wheel. “And, did she explain to you what that was?”
“I had a baby starting to grow… and then I didn't.” She leaned against the window. “I didn’t even know. He did… I think. I think that's why the beating was that bad.” She bit her lip. “He never kicked me that much. He even did extra and said ‘that should do it’.”
“I do believe he knew. I also believe that was why he allowed me to take you. He knew should he have kept you, this would happen again, and each time it happened, there was more risk of a child.”
Kalon shook her head. “He would've killed me before then.”
“Yes… well, I didn't want to put such a dark thought into your head no matter the truth to it.” He turned a sharp eye to her momentarily. “How are you feeling about all this?”
“I don't know.” Kalon pulled her legs onto the seat. “I guess it's all too much too fast. I probably will feel more about everything after a few days.”
“Quite wise.” The librarian cleared his throat. “I wasn't going to ask so soon, but… how did you find yourself with that terrible man?”
“My parents sold me to him.” She picked at a thin spot on her sweatpants. “He convinced them that I'd never get a big enough marriage pool to make more than he was willing to pay.”
“Horrid lie to go along with everything else. You surely will be lovely, and you seem intelligent. Those are excellent qualities that would've set you apart once you came of age.”
She eyed him, frowning as she took in his lined face and gnarled hands. Her exposure to people his age was limited to three women who lived a few streets over from her parents’ house.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Why shouldn't I?”
She had no response, and turned her full attention to the scenery rushing outside the window. She crawled into the back once the mountains and vast fields bored her, settling among the piles of books.
“Kalon, was it? I was thinking, if you have nowhere else to go, you can come home with me. I have the room.”
“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes at the back of his seat. “You in the market for a maid with benefits?”
There was no warmth or humor in the chuckle he gave. His eyes flashed into the rear view, catching hers.
“I am enough to be your grandfather. I cannot imagine such…degeneracy.” He smiled softly. “I do have a wife, if that sells the point more. She'd be happy to have a young miss around to dote on.”
“It isn't as if I have anywhere to go or could stop you if you just drove me to your house.” Kalon settled with a thin book. “Do I call you Gramps?”
His laugh now had warmth. “No, no, that's quite all right. My name is Malvern Gousa. Mr. Gousa, Malvern, or even Vern if you ever get comfortable enough.”
Kalon nodded absentmindedly, scanning through the book.
--------
End part was the second scene I typed up back when I thought I might get this done in time for Christmas. Now the only 'flashback'/old scene is one when Kalon meets Bex, and I'm not including that. But, the first scene of this I mentally have the whole thing from Innit's pov down. He's still a jerk in it, but he's also absolutely terrified and trying to be hardened. (And he doesn't believe her.) That's why librarians are armed and libraries are guarded, because peple steal and destroy books. You get some fanatics that really like--or really dislike--a colony, a person, ect. and they just start doing stuff to any information they can. And like Gramps says, some people here about someone mildly famous doing a thing, so they want to sell "rare" info related to thing. Even if it turns out not related. In this case Paris boy married Alouette, so those guys were just stealing stuff related to France. Could've been about the defunct monarcy. Could've been an art book on the Eiffle Tower. Didn't matter.
Oh yeah, and Kalon's pregnant. Happy Mother's Day.