a sack over her arm.
Once she’s gone and I can relax again, I unfold a section of my map and pore over the Pacific Ocean. My mind devours the names of the islands strewn like Skittles across the blue, but after a while, my thoughts begin to wander.
I retrieve my passionflower from the drawer in my nightstand, where it’s been floating in a shallow dish of water, and set it beside me on the carpet, studying its intricate structure. Few flowers are as complex as the passionflower, and even fewer are more beautiful. I think of the time I held elysia in my hands and decide that it and this blossom are the two most beautiful I’ve ever seen.
The life flower and the passionflower
.
Of course, I can’t look at the flower without thinking of Eio. Of his jade jaguar necklace against his bare chest. Of his jungle-blue eyes.
I wonder again who his father is. I’ve ruled out Uncle Will.It might not even be an actual scientist; it could be Clarence or Jacques for all I know. I decide I’ll ask Eio next time I see him for a description of his Papi.
The next time I see him.
“When did I decide I was even
going
to see him again, Alai?” The moment I swore I would? Why had I done that? I can’t go back out there. Last night was dangerous enough.…
What are you so afraid of?
Uncle Paolo. Mother. Even Uncle Antonio.
What can they do to you? You, the girl who cannot bleed
.
What
would
they do? Take away what freedom I have? The thought troubles me. I’ve never really looked that closely at the question before. Just what
do
I have that they could even withhold?
It’s not like they’d lock me up or something.
Would they?
I shiver.
As long as I don’t go back into the jungle, I can still think that the possibility is always there. Like hiding the map under my carpet. Even if I left it there, never took it out again, I would still know it was there if I really needed it.
And you are content with that? Content to die of thirst when a glass of water sits within your grasp?
I don’t know!
I don’t know. I turn and bury my face in Alai’s spots. I’ve never been so confused in my life. It was simpler before. Study your biology, Pia. Eat your dinner, Pia. Go to sleep, Pia. Let Uncle Paolo check your pulse and your saliva and your eyes and ears and nose, Pia.
Run, Pia
.
I don’t understand this urge I have to run away. It doesn’t make sense. Over the past few weeks, it has been gettingstronger. Maybe if I hadn’t found that hole in the fence, the feeling would have passed. Maybe it’s just a phase.
Maybe it’s not
.
A new feeling takes hold of me now: guilt. If I’m so committed to my purpose here in Little Cam, then why did I enjoy my brief freedom so much?
You’re not here to run around the rainforest
, I tell myself,
filling your head with wild jungle boys
. Uncle Paolo is right. I’m not ready yet. I’m too undisciplined, too easily distracted. I need to get myself under control.
I want the freedom of the jungle. I want to create someone who is like me. My dreams are tangled around each other like plants vying for the best spot in the sun. They strangle each other in their attempt to get the better of my reason. I
know
which one I truly want—I’ve wanted it all my life. But I’m being overtaken by a new desire, a raging, unpredictable dream that could destroy everything I’ve worked for.
What do I see in that boy, anyway?
I remember the deep loneliness I felt last night at my party and the urge to have someone who understands what it’s like to be eternal. Eio isn’t that person. Can’t ever be that person. He’s just like the rest of them: brief, evanescent. A fire that burns brightly, yes, but a fire that will one day go out.
I remember Clarence talking about his wife, about how she died in a car accident. I remember the pain in his eyes and the tremble in his hands when he spoke of her. I realize I’m terrified—
terrified
—of losing someone that way. I imagine Uncle Antonio or Mother
Once she’s gone and I can relax again, I unfold a section of my map and pore over the Pacific Ocean. My mind devours the names of the islands strewn like Skittles across the blue, but after a while, my thoughts begin to wander.
I retrieve my passionflower from the drawer in my nightstand, where it’s been floating in a shallow dish of water, and set it beside me on the carpet, studying its intricate structure. Few flowers are as complex as the passionflower, and even fewer are more beautiful. I think of the time I held elysia in my hands and decide that it and this blossom are the two most beautiful I’ve ever seen.
The life flower and the passionflower
.
Of course, I can’t look at the flower without thinking of Eio. Of his jade jaguar necklace against his bare chest. Of his jungle-blue eyes.
I wonder again who his father is. I’ve ruled out Uncle Will.It might not even be an actual scientist; it could be Clarence or Jacques for all I know. I decide I’ll ask Eio next time I see him for a description of his Papi.
The next time I see him.
“When did I decide I was even
going
to see him again, Alai?” The moment I swore I would? Why had I done that? I can’t go back out there. Last night was dangerous enough.…
What are you so afraid of?
Uncle Paolo. Mother. Even Uncle Antonio.
What can they do to you? You, the girl who cannot bleed
.
What
would
they do? Take away what freedom I have? The thought troubles me. I’ve never really looked that closely at the question before. Just what
do
I have that they could even withhold?
It’s not like they’d lock me up or something.
Would they?
I shiver.
As long as I don’t go back into the jungle, I can still think that the possibility is always there. Like hiding the map under my carpet. Even if I left it there, never took it out again, I would still know it was there if I really needed it.
And you are content with that? Content to die of thirst when a glass of water sits within your grasp?
I don’t know!
I don’t know. I turn and bury my face in Alai’s spots. I’ve never been so confused in my life. It was simpler before. Study your biology, Pia. Eat your dinner, Pia. Go to sleep, Pia. Let Uncle Paolo check your pulse and your saliva and your eyes and ears and nose, Pia.
Run, Pia
.
I don’t understand this urge I have to run away. It doesn’t make sense. Over the past few weeks, it has been gettingstronger. Maybe if I hadn’t found that hole in the fence, the feeling would have passed. Maybe it’s just a phase.
Maybe it’s not
.
A new feeling takes hold of me now: guilt. If I’m so committed to my purpose here in Little Cam, then why did I enjoy my brief freedom so much?
You’re not here to run around the rainforest
, I tell myself,
filling your head with wild jungle boys
. Uncle Paolo is right. I’m not ready yet. I’m too undisciplined, too easily distracted. I need to get myself under control.
I want the freedom of the jungle. I want to create someone who is like me. My dreams are tangled around each other like plants vying for the best spot in the sun. They strangle each other in their attempt to get the better of my reason. I
know
which one I truly want—I’ve wanted it all my life. But I’m being overtaken by a new desire, a raging, unpredictable dream that could destroy everything I’ve worked for.
What do I see in that boy, anyway?
I remember the deep loneliness I felt last night at my party and the urge to have someone who understands what it’s like to be eternal. Eio isn’t that person. Can’t ever be that person. He’s just like the rest of them: brief, evanescent. A fire that burns brightly, yes, but a fire that will one day go out.
I remember Clarence talking about his wife, about how she died in a car accident. I remember the pain in his eyes and the tremble in his hands when he spoke of her. I realize I’m terrified—
terrified
—of losing someone that way. I imagine Uncle Antonio or Mother
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