Mindgames Ch 10

Chapter 10: The rebel

Present day

Rose sat cross-legged on the floor, a large mortar on her lap, crushing with a pestle the juniper berries Animal had brought home. Mariah stood, one hand lightly on the back of an armchair, doing a stretch Gabriel had taught her.

Gabriel had emptied his medicine bag onto the table and was sorting packets of herbs, noting which needed replenishing. He sighed heavily. Rose glanced over at him. Mariah gave no indication that she had heard.

Gabriel sighed, louder this time, almost ostentatiously. Mariah and Rose glanced at each other. "Can I help you with something, Master?" Rose asked.

Gabriel gave an obvious double take, as if surprised that Rose had spoken. "Oh, what? No . . ." He tugged at his hair. "I was just thinking about a girl I knew back home, and hoping that she was okay."

Mariah and Rose looked at each other, even more confused. "Was she sick, Master?" Rose asked.

Gabriel shook his head. "No, no, not at all," he said. "She was just always in trouble. Like Mariah," he said, carefully looking only at Rose. "Hates rules. A born rebel."

The door opened with a bang and Animal stomped in, sweating, carrying a large ceramic jug. "Rose," he said, "I need you to start . . ." He glanced at what she was doing, stopped, said, "Oh," and placed the jug on the floor near her. "See that you don't spill," he said. "That stuff stains."

"Yes, Master," Rose said, smiling slightly.

Gabriel continued as if Animal had not interrupted him. "Her name is . . ." he paused, still looking only at Rose. "Makayla," he said.

He went back to sorting, seemingly lost in thought. Animal went into his bathroom and began running water for a shower. Rose took the bait at last. "Why are you worried about her, Master?" she asked.

"Well . . ." Gabriel said, "I guess I'm not worried about her exactly." Rose looked to Mariah, who was staring fixedly at the floor as she raised one elbow over her head and tugged at it with her other hand. "Do you ever have a daydream that's so intense that it seems real?"

Rose nodded. "Yes, I . . ."

Gabriel interrupted her. "I was thinking, if Makayla were here, if she were a slave, what would she do?" He stared fixedly at Rose. "I mean, if her whole goal were to rebel . . ." He looked down at the packets in front of him, speaking softly now as if to himself. "I suppose she could run away like Mariah, but let's assume she got caught." He looked at Mariah. She stared straight ahead, reaching both arms above her head and stretching tall. Gabriel flushed slightly. "And let's say, like Mariah, she survived. She's nervous now. She might be looking for another opportunity to run . . ." Mariah laced her fingers behind her back. "But in the meantime, she's stuck. She wants to rebel but she doesn't want to get caught, or punished." Gabriel asked Rose, "What would she do?"

Rose looked down. "I don't know, Master," she said. Her voice trembled.

But Gabriel pressed on. "You must have some idea. You've must have known slaves like this, looking for opportunities. Would she sneak food?"

Rose said low and urgently, "I don't know, Master." She swiped her eye with the back of her wrist, which made her splash some berry juice on the rug. "Oh," she cried, struggling to her feet.

Mariah said, "I'll get you a cloth, Rose." When she returned a moment later from the kitchen with a damp rag, she said to Gabriel, tightly, "She would do whatever she could without getting caught."

Animal came out of the bathroom, his hair wet, a towel wrapped around his waist, and began to cross the room to the kitchen.

"But what would she do?" Gabriel said. "Remember, I'm an outlander. I don't know your rules. What's the worst thing a slave who wanted to quietly rebel could do?"

Animal stopped. He looked from Gabriel, uselessly moving his packets around, to Mariah, seething, to Rose, crying. He said, coldly, shortly, furiously, "She would pleasure herself." He turned to Rose. "I need you in the bedroom." When Rose started to move the mortar and pestle to one side, he said, "Leave them. I need you now." Rose followed Animal across the living area and into his bedroom, where he closed the door firmly behind them.

Mariah was frozen in place, staring at Gabriel. Gabriel continued randomly moving his packets around, not meeting Mariah's eye. He continued, as if Animal and Rose had not left the room, "That makes sense. Of course, she'd have to be smart about it. Find a time when she wouldn't get caught. If she had a room to herself, she could do it late at night or early in the morning. She would have to make sure she could take a shower right afterwards, and that her sheets wouldn't give her away. Maybe she'd lay a towel down." Gabriel looked at Mariah at last. "Don't you think?" he said. Mariah looked at him, slack-jawed, and then nodded once, quickly. Gabriel turned away so that Mariah would not see his smile.

Mariah remembers

The next morning Mistress Desiree ordered Mariah to the food exchange with a group of other new arrivals to the training center. By the time she returned in the early afternoon, Tariq was in the center's courtyard, assigned to yardwork.

That evening Mistress Desiree took Tariq home with her. Mariah felt a pang, not so much at his going - she had known that Tariq was Mistress' Desiree's favorite - but that he did so without a glance her way.

The following day was much the same, but that night Mistress Desiree left alone. It took Mariah a few minutes to work up her courage. Finally she walked over to where Tariq was leaning against a counter, talking and laughing with seven or eight slaves. She stood quietly, unsure of herself, until Tariq glanced over at her. Then she took a deep breath and said as boldly as she could muster, "You said all I had to do was ask."

When Tariq looked confused, and his friends stared, amused, Mariah had the sinking feeling she had made a stupid mistake. "To . . . to make love," she muttered. Then she saw that Tariq's hand was intertwined with a slavegirl whose name Mariah had not yet learned. Her face hot, Mariah started to back away. "I'm sorry, I didn't . . ." Someone tittered.

Tariq disentangled his hand and followed her. "It's okay," he said. "There's always room for one more." He smiled his slow smile. "Do you know Brooke?"

"No!" Mariah said, still walking away. "That's not what I . . ." She turned away. "Maybe some other time," she muttered. "I didn't . . ."

Tariq looped his hand around her elbow. "Don't be embarrassed," he said, his voice intimate so that no one could overhear. "We'll have our time again, alone if that's how you like it." He waited until Mariah nodded. "But in the meantime," he continued, indicating with his head the many slaves in the room, "you should enjoy yourself. There won't be many times in your life when you can make love with whoever you want. I know, I've been in the mansion . . ." He shuddered. "Take advantage of it."

"Okay," Mariah said, unconvincingly.

Tariq smiled his slow smile as he released her and turned away. "We'll be together," he repeated, over his shoulder. Mariah didn't know whether he meant it or not. But how she hoped he did.

Present day

Mariah slipped into Gabriel's living area the next morning while the others were eating at the table. Her hair was damp. She ladled herself some gruel from the pot in the kitchen, humming softly. As she sat down, Rose said to her, "You seem cheerful this morning." Mariah colored slightly but didn't contradict her.

Animal stood up abruptly, his breakfast half uneaten. "Come, Rose," he said curtly. "I don't want to be late."

Rose looked at him, bewildered, but stood as precipitously as he and followed him as he stalked out the door. Gabriel merely smiled benignly at Mariah as she ate with an appetite that was rare for her. When she finished, he said, "I was wondering if you would be willing to help me."

Mariah looked at him warily, but not as warily as usual. She said, "It is my privilege to serve you, Master."

"Uh huh," Gabriel said. "Anyway, I have a problem in my clinic." Mariah said nothing but did not scowl either. Gabriel pressed ahead. "When slaves are brought to me, they're afraid. I spend more time trying to get them to tell me what hurts than I do examining or treating them."

Mariah shrugged. "They don't know how to play your mindgame, Master," she said.

Gabriel nodded. "I want you to tell them that I mean them no harm." When Mariah continued to merely stare at him, he laughed ruefully. "I'm not asking you to lie," he said. "I'm sure there's something you could tell them that would convince them that . . ." He trailed off as Mariah remained carefully expressionless. He sighed, but then said, "You'd be alone with them, sometimes. You can say whatever you want to them, then."

After a moment, Mariah nodded. "It is my privilege to serve you, master." Gabriel rolled his eyes.

Mariah remembers

Mariah did not follow Tariq's suggestion that night, but the next day she found herself looking speculatively at her fellow slaves in the training center. Although a couple, like Tariq, had lived in the mansion, most had come straight from the factory. However, almost all had been in the training center for weeks or months longer than Mariah. As she looked from one to another she wondered what it would be like to be with them - to "make love."

That evening she approached a tall, thin slave with sandy blond hair and a shy manner. Like her, he was relatively new to the center. Mariah enjoyed feeling her way with him. But she enjoyed just as much knowing that the next night - even the next morning, or later that night - she could be with someone else, someone she chose and who chose her, experimenting, learning, actually enjoying herself.

Present day

Master Gabriel led Mariah into his clinic and gave her a brief tour of the three rooms that made it up. A waiting area, with a mismatched collection of chairs lining the walls, opened into the room where he met with his patients. Both rooms also had a door to a third room, which he used for storing his medicines.

The door to the waiting area opened. A short, middle aged woman cradled her left wrist in her right hand. Master Gabriel invited her into the office, and Mariah, unsure what she was supposed to do, followed. Master Gabriel asked the woman what had happened and then gingerly examined her swollen thumb. He numbed it and then lanced it, explaining each step to the woman as he did so. As pus drooled out of the thumb Mariah refused to look away, although her stomach clenched.

After Master Gabriel cleaned and bandaged the wound, he turned the woman's hand over and touched the vein in her wrist. "If that turns red, you get someone to find me, no matter what." The woman nodded, and he said, "Promise?" He held onto her until the woman said, "Yes, yes, I promise."

Master Gabriel gave her instructions and medicine and sent her on her way. He rinsed the metal bowl that had caught the pus, put it in a bucket with a tight lid, and then meticulously cleaned the area and his hands. Mariah wondered if she was supposed to offer to help, but of course did not.

When Master Gabriel reopened the door to the waiting area, several people had come in. He scanned the room, glanced at writing on a chalkboard on the wall, and then asked, "Who was here first?"

A dark haired man, a little younger than Master Gabriel, raised his hand. "Over here," he said. He was using a slavegirl as a footstool.

Master Gabriel frowned at the man. "You know my rules, Cranmore. That's not allowed in here."

"I'm not torturing her," Master Cranmore protested. "I'm treating her good. I brought her here to see you, didn't I? She's sick or something."

Master Gabriel just looked at him until he shrugged and took his feet off the slave. She remained motionless, staring at the floor. "I'll see her next," Master Gabriel said.

Master Cranmore stood up, but Master Gabriel raised his hand. "I'll see her alone," he said.

"Why?" Master Cranmore protested. "She's sick, I told you that. She can't do anything for you, and she's got a bracelet on."

Master Gabriel regarded him calmly. "I'll see her alone so I can diagnose her without interference. If you want me to help her, tell her to stand up and come with me."

Master Cranmore shrugged. "Go on, Guckel. Do as he says."

The slave stood up quickly, coughing a little as she did. Mariah could see that her face was pasty white. Master Gabriel started to reach his hand out to her, but he stopped, and simply walked back into his office. Guckel followed him, and Mariah after her.

The slave was short and squat. Mariah wondered why she was allowed to eat so much.

"Please, sit down," Master Gabriel said, indicating the same bench where the mistress with the infected thumb had sat. Wordlessly Guckel obeyed him, coughing slightly. Master Gabriel riveted his attention to her at the sound, and she quickly suppressed it, ending in a wheeze.

"How can I help you?" Master Gabriel asked her, his voice kind. Guckel did not answer, apparently unaware that Master Gabriel was speaking to her. Mariah snorted, but suppressed the sound as quickly as Guckel had suppressed her cough.

Master Gabriel tried again. "Cranmore says you're sick," he said. "Is that right?"

Guckel stared at the ground. "My master is always right, Master," she said hoarsely.

Master Gabriel nodded, smiling faintly. "Is it your stomach that hurts?" he asked.

"What?" Guckel asked, surprised. "No, Master. I mean . . ." she stopped, clearly confused. "Only if it pleases you."

"Ah," said Master Gabriel. "Your throat then?"

"Only if it pleases you, my lord," Guckel repeated.

"Does your head ache?" asked Master Gabriel.

"Only if it pleases . . . ," Guckel began, but her words were lost in a cough.

"I just had a woman in here with a sore thumb. Is that it with you?" Master Gabriel said.

Mariah stared at Master Gabriel in open amazement. Even Mariah could tell that the slavegirl was not breathing right. What mindgame was he playing? Then she remembered, not long after she had woken up after the torment, when he had cured her arm. He had done something similar then, pretending not to know what was wrong when he had known all along. But why?

Guckel looked down, staring at the floor now. When Master Gabriel remained silent, she muttered, "Master, it hurts when I breathe."

Master Gabriel nodded. He reached for his stethoscope and put it on. He took a step toward Guckel but stopped a couple of feet away. "I'd like to listen to your lungs, if you'll let me," he said.

"I am yours to command, Master," Guckel said.

"You too?" said Master Gabriel, with an amused smile at Mariah. She scowled back at him, and continued to scowl as he examined Guckel much as he had examined Mariah, when she had first awoken after the torment. His soft tone was the same. His gentleness was the same. His intense concentration was the same.

Mariah's stomach clenched, as it had when Master Gabriel had lanced the mistress's thumb earlier. The mindgame invaded her. She was nothing special to Master Gabriel. She had not even realized that she had thought she was. She was merely someone to cure, just like Guckel. But he couldn't cure her stupidity.

"You have bronchitis," Master Gabriel told Guckel. "Very treatable in someone young and healthy." He squeezed Guckel's hand as he went to the storage room, and Mariah scowled at her.

Nevertheless, when Master Gabriel had closed the door behind him, Guckel asked Mariah, "Will you tell me . . . Is this a mindgame?"

"Yes!" Mariah snarled. But when Guckel's face fell, Mariah amended, "Oh, he'll make you better, if he says he can. But after . . ." She took a deep breath until her ribs announced their limit.

"I don't care what happens after," Guckel said. "I just want to be able to breathe." She began to cough again.

Master Gabriel came back in, two medicine bottles in his hand. "Cranmore has promised that he will follow my instructions," he said to Guckel. "Do you think he will?"

Guckel sounded scandalized. "He is my master."

Master Gabriel sighed, and then shrugged. "Very well," he said. "I'll explain to both of you what you need to do." He opened the door to the waiting room and called Master Cranmore in. Mariah's self-recrimination rang in her head - "I'm a stupid, stupid fool!" - but over it she heard Master Gabriel's explanation of the doses of the mullein tincture, and how to turn the peppermint into vapor. As he walked them to the door, Master Gabriel said to Guckel, "You should be feeling better by the day after tomorrow. If you don't, come back." Master Cranmore gave no indication that he heard, but he allowed Guckel to walk upright out the door.

Master Gabriel smiled briefly at Mariah. "That was a relief," he confided to her. "I thought at first she had asthma." Mariah scowled, shrugged, and looked away. "Asthma is a chronic condition," Master Gabriel continued, as if he believed Mariah were interested. "It can be controlled but not cured." He opened the door and called his next patient.

Mariah's mood continued to darken over the course of the morning, as Master Gabriel addressed whatever ailments were brought to him, always with kindness, to both human or slave. Mariah felt as if she were in a cave, surrounded by dark rock, trapped. If slaves attempted to speak with her she looked at them coldly and refused to respond. If humans took notice of her she fell to her knees and stared at their feet. If she saw Master Gabriel's puzzled, hurt looks she gave no sign. She was nothing to him and he was nothing to her.

Mariah remembers

Mistress Desiree examined the kitchen area where Mariah had spent the afternoon cooking. She looked at the bottoms of pots and pans, and took a toothbrush to the seam of the sink. Finding no fault, she said to Mariah, "You are dismissed."

"Thank you, Mistress," said Mariah, focusing on not rushing away in her eagerness. She had made plans to be with Emerson that night. It would be her first time going back to someone she had been with before. Knowing him a little, she grew warm thinking about what it would be like to explore him more deeply.

Mariah was among the last to be dismissed that night. She went to join the slaves congregating on the other side of the center, eating gruel, sipping warm water, before they would split off into pairs or groups of three or four.

Emerson was sitting on a wooden bench against the wall, in the thick of the crowd. He smiled at her. As she was making her way toward him, she saw suddenly that Tariq was sitting next to him, and hesitated.

But Tariq grinned at her. "You better go, Emerson," he teased, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Here comes Mariah, and you know she can't wait to try out some new position on you."

"Or I could be like you," Mariah said tartly and just as loudly, "always looking for new people so they'll never figure out you only know one position."

Her heart hammered and her face turned red when she realized what she had said, but around her the room exploded in laughter, including Tariq's. "She busted you!" someone called out, chortling.

Mariah sat on the other side of Emerson, their thighs and arms touching. She didn't much listen to the mock insults and laughter flying back and forth. She felt odd, jumpy and calm at the same time. With a start, she realized the feeling was happiness. For the first time since long before she left the fields, she belonged.

Present day

At last the waiting room was empty. Master Gabriel gave Mariah one of the two egg sandwiches that Rose had packed. He did not try to speak with her while they ate, and made no comment when she threw most of her sandwich into the trash which he had just emptied. After he swept up and washed his hands for the last time, he said, "I've a visit to make, and I'd appreciate your company."