Chapter 5: Family
Lacey waved as she walked away from me down the street. A drone bee buzzed over her head and she tried to swat it away. Unlike a real bee, the drone was very quiet. She probably didn’t intend to hit it but instinctively hated having an insect flying so close to her head.
As I walked up the steps of my house, I realized the re-enactment was just an hour ago. After the game, I had thought about talking to Austin about his comments that history was biased against the terrorists. After thinking over his words, I felt like my world should be upside down; everything I had been taught seemed less real. But it wasn’t. Life had never been as black and white as history had explained. I had always felt like there was something missing in the texts, something more out there than was described. A star sparkled near the peak of the West Mountains. How I wished to leave this city and see beyond the stars.
“How did you do at the re-enactment?” my dad asked, interrupting my thoughts as I entered the kitchen.
“Ah, okay, I guess,” I answered noncommittally. I really didn’t want to discuss the game.
“Okay?” My dad put down his tablet. A video was playing on the screen. “You were one of the top players from the school? You had quite a game. I was very impressed with your play.” He tapped the screen. My body sank; he had watched the whole game. My life had no privacy.
“Bit of luck,” I said while sitting down at the kitchen table. “Even Lacey nearly made it to the end.”
“You should be proud of yourself. You probably added a few more points to your final report card.” He was silent for a second but I knew he had another question. Likely one he couldn’t get from his tablet. “Who’s the boy from the other school?”
“What boy?” I answered and immediately regretted my response. Dad turned his head to the side, and rather than answer, he simply turned his tablet towards me. The video showed Austin talking to me just before the end of the game.
“Some kid from the other school. Why?” I felt my breath shorten.
“He says something to you but the receivers from the game don’t pick it up. The two of you seem to know each other.” He tapped the tablet screen.
“Never seen him before today,” I breathed out. I turned my attention to the pantry as if to make supper. I did not want him to see the lie on my face.
“Good.” He seemed satisfied. “I didn’t like him. He seemed a little too enthusiastic for the terrorists to win.” For some reason his words held less meaning now, and he made me want to know more about my history.
“Dad?” He gave me a look as if he knew what I was going to ask. “How did Mom die?” His face didn’t register the question but the weight on his body looked crushing. He turned away from me, as if to collect himself.
“I’ll tell you…”
“When you’re older,” I finished, knowing the drill all too well. “I’ve listened to that excuse all my life. Guess what, I think I’m old enough now.” I looked him in the face and he knew I meant business. I watched him get up and circle the table. He was collecting his thoughts, and I wondered if he would actually follow through with an answer for once. He leaned on the windowsill and looked outside.
“You know, you look exactly like your mother right now. And you act like her too. She always pushed to know the truth.”
“So tell me. I think I have a right to know.”
“Of course you do. You deserve that and more.” He turned from the window and faced me. “Tell me, what’s your fondest memory of her?”
“I don’t know, Dad. I was two when she died. I barely remember her. When I see her pictures around the house, she seems like a long-lost relative that I vaguely remember.”
“Think, Pene. There must be something. She loved you so much. I remember you giggling when she tucked you in at night.”
A memory clung to my brain. It was nagging, as if it refused to reveal itself. When I looked at her picture, I felt warm inside but I didn’t know why.
“Dad. I. Don’t. Know,” I spat out, but it was a lie. I remembered a song, something she sang to me, but I couldn’t remember the words. For a second he looked relieved, as if he was glad I had no memories of her. It made me want to strangle him. “Tell me how she died right now or I will never talk to you again!” His face pinched and I immediately regretted my hard stance. But I had to do something drastic to make him take me seriously. His mouth moved but no words came out. I knew talking about her caused him a lot of pain. But I had a hole so deep where I should have had a memory of her. How I wanted something to fill it!
“Pene?” Dad motioned to the dining room chair. “Have a seat.” I sat down while he fumbled for something in his wallet. I was about to protest that I didn’t want him to change the subject by offering me money but he dropped a badge face down on the table. I flipped it over and looked at hologram image of my mother in a lab coat. She wore a faint smile, as if she enjoyed her work. I noticed the badge location stamped in the upper left hand corner.
“Mom worked at the power plant? Was she there when the terrorists attacked?” I blurted out, but Dad’s pain gave the obvious answer. He turned to me, his eyes moist.
“Your mom worked as a technician, observing the power levels at the plant. She would help recommend alternative energies to compensate for the peak power level times during the day when the plant was at capacity.” I gave him a baffled look, as if I couldn’t believe what he was telling me or that he was finally telling me the truth.
“How did Mom die?” I asked.
“You have played the re-enactment enough to know the sequence of events. When the earthquake hit and the plant overloaded, there was a huge explosion. A huge part of the plant was destroyed and many lives were lost, but your mother’s wasn’t one of them.”
“How did you know?”
“She called me from the plant. She was tending to several people who were hurt. That’s when the plant was overrun and the terrorists made their play to take over the remaining power supply. Your mother was a hostage. Demands were made. The terrorists wanted control of parts of the city in exchange for giving the city back its electrical power.”
“And what did the city do?”
“They,” he hesitated, “did nothing. The city doesn’t negotiate with terrorists. After twenty-four hours of getting nowhere with the city, the terrorists blew up the plant. All the hostages were killed.” His voice trailed off. After so many years he had finally told me the truth. And then I realized Dad’s motivation at work.
“Were you a lawyer before Mom died?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Fresh out of law school. Articled for a small firm in the west side of the city, did mostly contract law. After your mom’s death, the work seemed meaningless. I took a few months off, trying to take care of you, get my life in order. But nothing was ever the same. Your mother never should have died. I quit my firm and went to work with the Ministry of Justice. With the new security protocols with cameras and drones, your mother could still be alive today. To honor her memory, I worked to make sure people like the terrorists were made to pay for their crimes.”
His eyes shone with determination. He had dedicated his career to the law. He was still trying to put away the terrorists that had killed my mom. I imagined he saw every case as a chance to redeem himself for not being there for her. He had devoted his life to making the current system work.
“Do you ever think that the law could be wrong? That something could be done to make a suspect look guilty of a crime that they didn’t commit?” My dad looked puzzled but took a second to think about my question.
“Pene, I always want to pursue the truth. I know I can come across a bit overzealous because of what happened to your mom, but I only want to bring guilty people to justice. I work very hard to make sure I review all of the footage before making my assessment.”
“And if someone was truly innocent.”
“Then I would do everything in my power to make sure he was set free in a court of law. But with our technology, that is so rare nowadays. And any irregularities would have to run by Lord Morall to determine if an alternate judgement is correct.”
And with those words I knew I couldn’t tell him about Lou’s video. There was no way Morall would listen about the system being wrong. My instincts screamed that Morall himself was the source of corruption. I loved my father but I wouldn’t endanger us.
“Thanks, Dad. You don’t know how much I appreciate knowing the truth about Mom.”
“I’m sorry I’ve waited so long to tell you. I guess I have to realize that you’re not a little girl anymore.”
“Seriously, Dad. I haven’t been a little girl for a while now.” I tried not to sound defensive.
“How do you feel?” He looked at me as if trying to gauge my emotions. “Does knowing how your mom died make you feel any better?”
“Dad,” I considered the last few day’s events, “right now, I’m a bit overwhelmed by the truth.”