Lise - DM Arnold (inspirational books to read TXT) 📗

II

A woman whose age straddled the territory between youth and middle age opened the door. She had shoulder-length, light brown hair and wore what was typical for a Varadan white -- a one-sleeved blouse cut to expose her left shoulder and arm. Tattooed on her clavicle were three circles, the emblem of the merchant caste. Tattooed around them was a wreath of vines.

“Come in,” the woman said. “Nice to see you again, Lise.”

“Thank you, Ms Megan,” Lise replied. “Nice to see you, too.”

Megan was a large woman with big bones and slightly overweight. Lise detected a coarseness about her -- a toughness in her speech and in her movements.

“You're a life-saver, Lise,” Megan continued. “Come meet the twins.” Sitting on the floor watching a mediascreen were a boy and a girl, about two years away from starting school. “Klarissa ... Geddes...” Their heads turned. “This is Lise. She'll be taking care of you while Mommy's at work.”

Lise knelt onto one knee to bring herself to their level. “Hello Klarissa... Geddes...”

“Hi,” Klarissa said and turned back to the screen. Her brother's gaze swung away.

“Lise...” Megan said.

“Yes, mam?”

“I've prepared lunches for them. Please don't let them watch too much mediascreen -- it rots their brains.”

“Yes, mam...”

Megan smacked her forehead. “I forgot to buy some of the special food you eat. I'm sorry -- I'll have some for you tomorrow.”

“It's all right, mam,” Lise replied. “I feed once every three days. All I need is water. I'll be fine.”

“Drink all the water you want. If you take the twins outdoors, make sure you put sun hats on them. They're in the closet.”

“Yes, mam...”

“Oh, Ramina...” Megan handed Ramina two blue cards. Lise's eyes popped -- they were brand-new fifty-unit scrips. “Your fee in advance.”

“Thank you, Megan.” Ramina held the cards to the light -- none of the holes had been punched. She slipped them into her bag and turned to Lise. “Good luck, Lise...”

“Oh, Ms Ramina?”

“Yes, Lise?”

“May... Will...”

“What is it, Lise?”

“I thought we had agreed that I would be keeping my wages ... mam.”

“Yes, child -- after my expenses have been paid. If you recall, that was part of the agreement. The fees and tests to register you amounted to two thousand units; and the doctor's bills two thousand more. I can't afford that kind of charity. Once it's been paid back, you may keep your wages.”

“But -- that's forty pay periods! It'll be into next year...”

Ramina's eyes widened. “Very good, child. You do your arithmetic well. You succeed in this assignment, and those forty periods will fly by.”

“I was hoping to have a little...”

“Now child -- remember our agreement ... and, remember how rude it is to talk of wages.”

“Yes, mam. I'm sorry.”

Ramina embraced Lise and kissed the top of her bald head. “You'll be fine -- I know you will.”

Lise stepped into the room where the twins sat, eyes glued to the mediascreen. “So ... Klarissa ... Geddes,” she said, “what do you want to do?”

“Watch,” said Geddes.

“Your mommy said not too much mediascreen.” The twins continued to watch. Lise stood between them and the device.

“Hey!” called Geddes.

“Let's do something else,” Lise said.

“We always watch 'Ask Jaks,'” Geddes protested.

“Is that what this is?”

“No -- it's on next.”

“All right -- we'll watch 'Ask Jaks' together -- but you must promise me we'll do something else after. Okay?”

“Okay,” they said in unison.

Lise pulled up a chair and sat viewing the screen, as a seemingly endless string of advertisements were broadcast. “Stupid commercials,” Geddes muttered.

The words, A Service Announcement appeared on the screen, followed by a an image of a well-dressed, coiffed and heavily made-up young woman announcer. She addressed a frumpy middle-aged woman sitting on a chair. Beside her was an older novonid woman, about Lise's mother's age, dressed in the usual bandeau and shorts.

Who is this, asked the announcer.

This is Natlee, the frumpy woman replied cheerfully, and she is one of many fine companions we have in our shelter waiting to be adopted. Nathlee is forty-seven standard years old and she came to us from a pomma farm. She would make a wonderful companion to an older couple wanting someone to help around the house.

“What does adopt mean?” Klarissa asked.

“It means to take someone into your home or family,” Lise replied.

“Like we did with you?”

Lise suppressed a laugh. “No -- I'm only working for your mommy. Someone who's adopted would live in the house all the time.”

Klarissa's eyes popped. “Could we adopt you?”

“No -- I already have an owner.”

Natlee, the announcer addressed the novonid woman, What work did you do on the farm?

I worked in the big house, mam, Natlee replied, looking at her feet.

“What's the big house?” Klarissa asked.

“It's the home of the farmowner and his family.”

“Lise, did you live on a farm?”

“Yes, I was born on one. My mother and I left the farm when I was much smaller than you.”

“Oh...”

The service announcement ended with the announcer suggesting that viewers wishing to adopt a novonid companion should contact one of the Benevolent Shelter Society offices or facilities.

Then, the program the twins wanted to watch began. It was a comedy about an affluent single dad with three children -- a teen, a pre-teen and a little girl about the age of the twins. The family had a novonid valet named Jaks. Lise shook her head as she watched the situation develop.

“Lise?”

“Yes, Klarissa?”

“Why did they have Natlee on the mediascreen?”

“They want people to know that some novonids need homes. If some viewer liked Natlee, perhaps they would want to adopt her, or someone like her.”

“Doesn't Natlee already have an owner?”

“Yes -- she's owned by the Benevolent Shelter Society. They want to give her to someone who is willing to care for her.”

“Shhh!” Geddes said.

“Why is Natlee at the shelter?” Klarissa asked.

“It could be for a number of reasons,” Lise replied. “Perhaps the farm was sold, or...”

“Quiet!” Geddes protested. “I can't hear the screen.”

“Geddes is right,” Lise whispered to Klarissa. “Let's be quiet and watch.”

As she watched Lise realized the humor in the program was not directed at Jaks. He was the smartest and cleverest member of the ensemble. This didn't mean much -- none of the characters demonstrated the common sense of a rock -- but the resulting comedy was easily within the grasp of a Varadan four-year-old.

The program paused for another advertisement. Klarissa climbed onto Lise's lap. Geddes sat on the floor, using Lise's shins as a backrest. Klarissa leaned back and her blond hair tickled Lise's lips. She felt the bones of the girl's small pelvis digging into her thigh, her mass resting against her shoulder and she inhaled the scent of her hair. Lise brushed some aside and marveled at its softness.

For an instant Lise felt envy for Megan, for having two beautiful children -- and, remorse that she had the surgery. It was necessary she reminded herself. Lise banished these thoughts and longings. What sort of a life would a child of hers grow up to, anyway? Certainly not as fine a one as lay before Klarissa and Geddes.

“You know,” Lise said, “that the man playing Jaks isn't really a novonid. He's a white man made up to look like one.”

“How can you tell?” Klarissa asked.

“You can see the line where they put on the cap to cover his hair. And -- his eyes aren't orange.”

Klarissa turned her head and looked into Lise's face. “Why do you have orange eyes?”

“All novonids do.”

“Why?”

“Because -- that's the way we are... Also, you can see his skin isn't really green. They used green paint. And -- when he talks, you can see the inside of his mouth isn't brown like mine, but pink like yours.”

“Let's see...” Lise opened her mouth and Klarissa opened hers.

“Why do you suppose they wouldn't use a novonid man to play Jaks?” Lise asked.

“I don't know,” Klarissa replied. “Do you?”

“No, I don't.”

But, Lise did know. There was a not-so-subtle erotic undercurrent in the relationship between Jaks and another character -- a neighbor woman. A broad section of the Varadan community would be scandalized if Jaks weren't so obviously played by a made-up white man.

Then, it dawned on her... The joke was that every character except Jaks's employer and the woman's husband knew he really was a white man masquerading in green paint. He did so to be near the neighbor woman, right under the nose of her cuckolded mate.

“What shows do you like to watch?” Klarissa asked.

“I don't watch any.”

“Why not?”

“We don't have a mediascreen. We can't afford one. And -- even if we did, where I live we don't have any electricity to run it.”

The little girl made a silent “Oh.”

“Okay -- show's over. Geddes, please turn off the mediascreen.”

“Awww...”

“Please.”

Geddes stood and switched off the device. Klarissa hopped down and ran into her mother's bedroom. She returned with a portable mediascreen.

“You could use one like this,” Klarissa said and switched it on.

“You're right,” Lise said examining the device. “It doesn't need to be plugged in -- but the power cells must be plugged into the wall to recharge.”

“Oh...” Klarissa made a bit of a pout.

Lise knelt down and kissed the girl's head. “It was a very good suggestion, though. Now, put this back where your mommy won't miss it.”

Klarissa smiled and scooted into the bedroom.

“Are you two hungry?” Lise asked. Geddes nodded. Lise opened the door to a refrigerated cabinet and withdrew two plates covered with a polymer wrap. “Here. What do you drink?”

Geddes pointed to a pitcher filled with a clear, red fluid. Lise poured a bit into a tumbler and tasted a drop on her finger.

“This?” she asked.

“Yes!” Geddes and Klarissa exclaimed together.

“It's terribly sweet...” She poured two short glasses and set them on the table Lise filled a tumbler with water and sat with them.

“Don't you want some?” Klarissa asked.

“No. It's too sweet for me. It'll make me sick.”

“Why?”

“Because sugar makes my stomach hurt. That drink has too much for me -- and, probably too much for you, too.”

“Aren't you hungry?”

“No.” She sipped her water. “Not for food at least. I am feeling a little hungry for sunshine. I get most of my food from sunlight.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm a novonid and that's the way we are.” She touched her forefinger to Klarissa's nose. “I'm going to call you Little Miss Why.”

“Why?”

“Because you ask so many questions. What do you say we finish our lunch and then walk to the playground. That way, you can play and I can get my sunshine. Okay?”

“Okay,” Klarissa replied.

The twins finished their lunches. Lise rinsed the plates and stacked them on the counter. She opened the closet and located a pair of sun bonnets. “Here -- put these on.”

“I don't want to,” Geddes protested. “They look stupid.”

“Your mommy doesn't want you getting too much sun -- you'll burn.”

Klarissa slipped into the bonnet. Geddes crossed his arms. His sister whispered into his ear and Geddes pulled the bonnet onto his head and over his ears.

Lise led them toward the front door and stopped short. “I don't know how to lock the door,” she said. “We can't go out.”

Klarissa giggled and pulled a passcard from the inside door lock. Lise took the card and tested it in both the inside and outside locks. After convincing herself the card worked, she slipped it into a pocket in her shorts and gestured the twins outside.

“Where are we going?” Klarissa asked.

“To the park.”

“What park?”

“It's just down this block. I saw it from the car when I was coming here. Here -- hold my hand. You, too Geddes.”

Lise walked toward the corner with Klarissa on her left and Geddes on her right.

“How far is it?” Klarissa asked.

“Not far.”

They reached the corner and waited for traffic to clear. A streetcar whizzed by, with four novonids standing on a narrow platform attached to the rear of the bus.

“Why do they ride on the back?” Klarissa asked.

“Because,” Lise replied, “novonids don't have much money, but we do need to go from place to place. The city lets us ride for free, but we can't ride inside the bus.”

“Why?”

“It wouldn't be fair to the paying white passengers, would it?”

“I guess not...”

“So, they put the platform on the back of the bus and we ride there.”

“Lise...”

“Yes, Klarissa?”

“Why don't you have money?”

Lise smiled. “That's a complicated question... Actually, your question is simple but the answer is complicated...” Traffic cleared. “Hold my hands tight,