Eternal Youth (21 page)

“Welcome!” Darren’s voice boomed over the chatter of the crowd. He stood and ambled around the table, his colorful
dashiki
swishing around his hips. “This evening, we’re going to dispense the forms that will help us place you in employment.” He gestured to the back of the room, and Callie turned to see Alaric appear, balancing a stack of papers and pens.

Her heart pounded, and her palms went sweaty as he began to make his way across the room, passing out the sheets and leaving piles of pens on each table.

When he stopped at their table, he grinned. “Ladies,” he whispered. He sat out four pieces of paper and pens, then winked at Callie. “See you tomorrow.”

“You dog!” Nailah punched Callie on the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you made a date with him!”

Callie rubbed her shoulder and made a face. “Ow! I was under the impression you hated him.”

“I’m over it. You and me talked about it. I feel better.” Nailah smirked.

“Fickle, fickle girl.” Callie stuck her tongue out and pulled her form closer.

Some questions were easy: Name, Date of Birth, Country of Origin. But, when Callie got to the meat of the questionnaire—
What are your hobbies?
—she drew a blank.

“I don’t have any hobbies,” she murmured.

“That’s not true, baby.” Emma, sitting on Callie’s right, reached up to brush her fingers through Callie’s hair. “You have lots of hobbies.”

“When have I had time to
find
hobbies?” Callie retorted. “I’ve been too busy traveling the world.”

Her mother took entirely too long before she answered, “You like to read.”

“One hobby. Fantastic.” Callie rolled her eyes.

“You love to journal,” Gran pointed out.

“When I had a journal.” Callie paused, only just realizing that her bag had gone down with the plane. “Damn. My journal is a pile of ash and plane wreckage.”

She loved that journal. It had chronicled her woes and happiness on the road of traveling for years. Hot tears stung her eyes and her throat got tight.

“We’ll get you a new one, sweetie.” Emma leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Not the end of the world.”

“Is there anything you’ve always wanted to do?” Nailah asked, her pen sliding effortlessly over her own sheet.

“Don’t know.” Callie sighed, fighting away sorrow over her lost journal. She wrote “reading” and “writing” in the space and moved on. The next question made her want to crumple the paper up and toss it at the parliament members. “Prior work experience?”

“Honey, it’s not your fault that you don’t have prior work experience.” Emma took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Just put not applicable.”

Callie moved the pen to scratch an
N/A
on the sheet, but stopped, the pen hovering over it as she remembered that Alaric worked in the government building.
What are the odds I could get in…?

Not just for the fact HE worked there, Callie realized.
What if I can find a way out through governmental records? There has to be a library
… She hastily scrawled “Previous experience working in a government office” and turned her sheet over before her mom could see.

“This isn’t a test.” Nailah giggled. “You don’t have to hide your answers.”

Callie shrugged. “Just don’t want to look at it anymore. It reminds me of how lame I am.”

T
he next morning, Callie woke up alone in her room.

The room was bigger than the one she had shared with Nailah at the temple building—probably to accommodate the bigger beds. The mattresses were surprisingly soft and comfy on the wooden frame, and the blankets warm. The window had shutters on the inside, which Nailah had closed before they fell asleep. Nailah’s bed was already made; Callie hadn’t even heard her roommate leave.

Callie stared around at the four blank walls and the dusty stone floors and thought,
We’ve gotta give this place some character.

The four of them shared a single, tiny bathroom at the bottom of the stairs. The toilet was just a simple stone throne with a wooden seat. There was no plumbing.
My butt literally hangs over the underground sewer
, Callie thought in disgust. She missed porcelain and the reassuring flush of modern plumbing.

She ran a toothbrush over her teeth and a brush through her hair, and then joined her family in the kitchen.

“Where’s Nailah?” Callie asked as she plopped into a chair at the table.

“I asked her to run next door and check on Madeline and Willow,” Emma replied. She had a pan over the stove fire and a spoon inside, stirring. “I’m making biscuits and gravy. Sound good?”

“Delicious.” Callie smiled at Gran, who had one of the solid red tomes from the corner bookshelf open on the tabletop beside a mug. “What are you reading?”

“It’s one of those busty romance novels.” Gran chuckled. “Didn’t think they’d have those here.”

“Shouldn’t there be a half-naked girl clinging to a shirtless guy on the cover?”

Gran flipped to the back of the book and offered it across the table to Callie. “Someone here in Aionia wrote it.”

Callie scanned the “About the Author” page. According to the blurb, Charlotte Rossier was a long-time resident of Aionia and had never been published until landing in Aionia. She lived with her daughter nearby. “Wow. That’s kinda cool. Is it any good?”

“Just as good as any I ever read back home.” Gran took a sip of coffee, and buried her nose in the book.

“Are you still meeting that boy for lunch?” Emma asked as she lifted the skillet from the burner and began to carefully pour the hot gravy in a bowl.

“Yeah.” Just the thought made Callie’s heart beat a little faster. “I’m nervous.”

“Just be yourself, baby.” Emma set the gravy on the table, her eyes twinkling. “Any guy who doesn’t like the real Calista isn’t worth your time.”

“Let’s just hope he shows me the
real
Alaric,” Callie said, thinking of Jonathan.

Callie’d had every intention of walking all the way to the government building, and she’d managed to make it several blocks until a passing Cruiser pulled over and stopped. It was the blonde-haired female from the rescue team that had found Callie and the rest of the survivors.

“Need a ride?” she asked with a big, white smile. Her accent screamed American South with the “i” longer than the L&N railway. She had a strand of ginger freckles across her pale cheekbones and a beauty mark above her upper lip.

“Totally!” Callie hopped into the Cruiser, and they pulled back onto the street. The Cruisers didn’t go very fast, Callie had noticed, but it was definitely faster than walking. “I’m Callie.”

“Josie,” the soldier answered, offering a hand. When Callie shook it, the woman’s grip was strong. She was wearing the same kind of cotton T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up as the night of the crash; she had some serious muscles for such a little woman. “Where you goin’?”

“The temple?”

“Parliament,” Josie corrected with a wry grin. “Aionia is so ageless that we ain’t really sure who built it or when, but one running theory is some form of Central American Indians. Apparently, their old cities must have been laid out like this one with a central temple and the strategic roads.”

“Like the spokes of a wheel,” Callie cut in, proud she had something to comment on. She gripped the “suicide handle” above her head as they hit a rough patch in the road.

Josie grinned, her hair whipping around her face as she glanced over at Callie. “Right. Only, we don’t use the temple as some kind of sacrificial, spiritual building. It’s just the government building. You can call it Parliament. What’s your business there? Last I heard, you only took the job placement test yesterday.”

For a brief moment, Callie wondered if the soldier knew about her fib on the test, but she brushed it off as ridiculous. “Um. Lunch with a friend.”

As the word “friend” left Callie’s mouth, Josie turned the car into the central courtyard, and they both noticed Alaric propped against the stones of the temple. “Ah,” Josie said slyly. She pulled the Cruiser into a parking spot along the wall and cut it. “Lunch with my little brother, huh?”

“Oh. You’re related to Alaric?”

“That I am.” Josie let her hands flutter to her lap and seemed to weigh her words. Callie glanced over her shoulder to see Alaric coming toward them. Josie chuckled, but when she spoke, her voice was serious. “He’s a good guy, my little bro. Just…be careful with him. He’s got a big heart, and he’s been hurt before.”

Callie didn’t have a chance to reply. Alaric appeared at his sister’s door and gave her a fond grin. “Thank you for bringing Callie to me.”

Josie glanced at Callie, who nodded and agreed. “My pleasure. You kids have fun. I’ve got a meeting with Darren.”

After his sister started across the quad, Alaric turned back to Callie with his hands shoved in his pockets. “I wasn’t sure you were going to show up.”

“Am I late?” Callie asked, horrified. “It’s hard to tell without clocks.”

“You’re not late. I was just anxious to see you again.” Alaric’s grin made her heart flutter. She still couldn’t believe such a gorgeous specimen was interested in her. “I see you met my sister?”

“She’s nice. You don’t talk with the same twang.”

Alaric nodded. “Our parents were killed when we were just kids. Josie was raised by our mother’s family in Georgia. I was raised by my dad’s family in Pennsylvania.”

“I take it you were together when you…” Callie trailed off; she didn’t know how to broach the subject. Was it taboo? To talk about the crash that landed someone in Aionia?

“It’s okay, Callie,” Alaric told her. He briefly touched her wrist where it hung at her side. “Most people here don’t mind talking about the way they got here. And yes, I was with Josie when we came here.”

“Plane crash?”

He shook his head. “Boat. I was accompanying my sister on a mission trip.”

“So…how does that work? Did the boat…sink?”

Alaric held an elbow out and it took Callie a moment to realize he meant for her to take it. “I thought we would walk to Sally’s for lunch. It’s a heck of a lot nicer than the government cafeteria, plus she makes the best chicken pot pie in Aionia. Even better than my grandmother’s old recipe.”

Callie slipped an arm into his. His blue cotton shirt was soft and warm—it brought out the color of his eyes. She was glad he hadn’t taken her hand; her nerves were going haywire. Already, her palms were sweaty.

“Not all boats that arrive in Aionia sink,” Alaric went on, answering her previous question. “Ours actually just sailed on through, as if it were aiming for this island.”

“Lucky,” Callie said.

“Yes, I know.” He squeezed his arm around her hand, shooting her an apologetic look. “I heard your crash was a particularly bad one.”

As they stepped onto a side street, merchants waved and smiled, some of them even greeting Alaric by name. Callie had to admit the feeling of acceptance in Aionia was nice. In San Diego, you were lucky if your fast food cashier bothered to look in your eyes and acknowledge your existence, much less smile.

Alaric led her to a small café. The smell of fresh baked bread greeted her as they stepped through the open door, and her mouth watered. Someone had tried hard to give Sally’s a bit of life—the walls were painted bright yellow and hung with pretty, cerulean-themed paintings. The two large windows flanking the door let in more light than usual. There were several people already seated in the restaurant, and they all smiled or nodded as Callie followed her date to a back corner table.

“The usual, Alaric?” A plump woman with short brown hair pulled out a small notebook as she sidled up to the table.

“The usual.”

“How about you? What will it be?” She looked at Callie.

“Well, Alaric tells me you make the best chicken pot pie. I want to compare it to Cracker Barrel’s and see if it’s true.” Callie grinned so the woman would know she was just kidding.

“What’s a Cracker Barrel?” the woman asked.

Callie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Aren’t you from America?”

“Yes, I’m from Tennessee.”

“And you’ve never heard of Cracker Barrel?” Callie gaped at the waitress. “There’s a least one in every town. It’s the best southern cooking around.”

The woman’s eyes flicked to Alaric. “I’ll get those meals right out to you,” she said, and hurried off.

“Okay, that was weird. I feel like I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone.”

“What’s the twilight zone?”

“It’s a TV—never mind. You wouldn’t get it.”

Alaric picked up the clay pitcher in the center of the table and poured water into Callie’s glass. “How are you adjusting? It usually takes people a couple of months to come to terms with their new lives.”

“I hate that phrase.” Callie sighed and crossed her hands on the table. “My life is the same—it’s not a new life. I’m just in a different place.”

“You have a point.” Alaric smiled.

“My family seems to be adjusting well. It pisses me off. I don’t see how they can just accept being stuck here.” Callie leaned forward on her elbows and lowered her voice. “There has to be a way out.”

Alaric reached across the table and took her hand as he murmured, “Callie, you have to stop talking like that. If anyone heard you, it could cause trouble.”