Natural Selection (12 page)

THE DARKNESS IN my room felt
smothering when I woke up. I still felt feverish and disconnected
and knew something must be wrong. The clock on my bedside table
announced it was 3:16 in glowing green numbers. My entire body
ached, like my bones had grown too large for their sockets. My
heart raced, and I couldn’t seem to breathe.

I stood and the sheets clung to my
sweat-slicked body. My pajamas were drenched, so I replaced them
with dry ones and headed to the bathroom to put cool water on my
face. Without bothering to turn on a light, I repeatedly wet a
washcloth and blotted my face. No matter how much cold water I used
it didn’t seem to have any effect. The stairs seemed a nearly
insurmountable obstacle, but I somehow made it down them to the
kitchen. Each step felt awkward and shaky as my legs responded
oddly to my brain’s commands. I downed three glasses of water and
was working on a fourth when even worse pain wracked my body. My
muscles spasmed, and I dropped the glass, which shattered on the
stone tiles. I cried out and fell to the floor, curling up and
wishing I could die.

I felt my mother’s hand on my face,
smoothing my damp hair back. Unnatural warmth emanated from her
hand and the pain receded a little. She helped me to my feet and
placed my arm around her neck, leading me towards the back
door.

“
I thought we’d have until
spring at least. I’m so sorry I didn’t prepare you for this, baby,
but it really is out of its time. ”

We slowly made our way down the steps
and into the yard. I struggled to stay upright, but every muscle
contracted making it nearly impossible. Mom took me to the garden
she’d recently tilled and set me on the soil. More pain came over
me in waves and my body tightened. Gritting my teeth, I looked at
her putting all my fear and misery into that single look. I knelt
in the dirt, leaning on hands fisted in pain. I thought I might be
dying.

“
Pull strength from the
Earth, Lia. Your body knows how. Let her feed you.”

I unclenched one hand and thrust it
into the loose soil. Instantly, the pain began to lessen. I reached
out to the freshly turned dirt with a part of myself I’d never used
before. I collapsed onto my belly as my mind and body seemed to
disconnect. Suddenly it occurred to me how ridiculous I must look,
rolling around in the dirt in a pair of Marvin Martian shorts and a
matching tank top. My hair clung to my head, wet with sweat and
dotted with leaves and dandelion fluff. My cheeks colored, and I
tried to pull my hand free,but a strange tearing sensation made me
stop as the pain slammed back into my bones. I looked down to where
my fingers were pressed into the soil. Strange glowing tendrils
connected me to someplace deep beneath the surface. I noticed the
same root-like light all over my body—anywhere my bare skin touched
the soil. Panic welled in my chest, and I cried out trying to pull
myself free from the bizarre energy binding me in place. When I
tried to pull away, the pain came back worse than before. I knew I
was close to hyperventilating, and I couldn’t cry out or beg my
mother for help. Instead, all I could do was yield to the burning
desire to roll onto my back, to allow myself to fully connect with
the earth. Tears rolled from my eyes as I wondered if I would ever
get back up.

“
Don’t fight it Lia, it’s
ok. Let it happen. You’re going to be all right.” My mother placed
her hand on my cheek and gave me a watery smile. I realized she’d
been crying, and I didn’t understand why. Now she seemed completely
calm, the grey wells of her eyes assuring and comforting as always.
She slowly began scooping dirt over me and with each handful came
reassurance. Warmth was spreading through me, a comfort I usually
associated with my mother. The rational part of my mind screamed at
me, but I chose to ignore it. My mother was burying me in our
backyard, and strangely, I was okay with that.

I felt myself drifting,
like I was floating on my back in warm water. My skin felt like it
was moving, and I could
feel
my body changing, but it was no concern. An eerie
calm washed over me, strength flowing into me from the dirt. The
process wasn’t completely painless, but the calm never left me. I
only felt the pain at a distance, like it was happening to someone
else. Strangely, it felt like I was coming home. A voice whispered
in alarm in the back of my mind, but I ignored it. It didn’t seem
that important.

Time had no meaning as I lay there.
Warmth and contentment filled me, and nothing else mattered. I
became aware of a strange connection with everything around me. The
grass drank nutrients from the soil, the sap in the trees moved
ever so slowly. A squirrel gathered acorns near the oak in the
yard, and a bunny snuggled in its nest near the back fence. The
earth absorbed the sun’s warmth. I could tell the moment the sun
began to set, the creatures either settling or stirring for the
night. When the stars came out it was a glorious sensation. Even
the rotation the planet as it made its way around the sun, the
movement of the moon making her way across the sky were as plain to
me as the dirt under my back. I drifted away again and more time
passed.

I came back to myself suddenly in the
dark, stiff and confused. My entire body ached, and my skin felt
hot and flushed, yet I was cold. I couldn’t move, and my eyes
seemed welded shut. My mind was fully alert, but my body lay beyond
my control. No matter how hard I tried to make my vocal cords work,
I couldn’t scream. The eerie calm was gone, and in its place was a
terror I'd never known before. It overwhelmed me, and I let out a
mental scream of anguish. The effort did nothing to ease my fears,
so I firmly reined them in, knowing I would accomplish nothing
unless I was calm.

Once rational thought returned, I
began to concentrate on moving. Progress was slow, but soon I could
move my feet and hands. I circled them and worked the muscles as
the movement spread. Finally, I was able to sit up, the thin layer
of soil falling away. At least a day had passed while I slept in
the yard, but I wasn’t certain if it was only one. I slowly got to
my feet feeling as wobbly as a newborn giraffe—probably looked
about like one too. I briefly imagined myself as Rip Van Winkle
emerging after twenty years to find the world changed. Only for me,
the world was the same, and I was different. My pajamas seemed to
fit oddly, and I glanced down. My eyes widened in shock at the
ample cleavage stretching the thin cotton to its limit. My hips
were curvier, and my flat butt had rounded until I had what could
only be described as a J-Lo booty. My legs seemed longer and
willowy, rather than gangly, my body round and supple where it had
been flat and straight before.

Slightly dazed, I climbed up the porch
steps praying the door wasn’t locked. I snapped on the light and
stood in the kitchen indecisively. Delaying making any decisions, I
took a glass out of the cupboard and got some water, marveling at
how I had never noticed the chemicals that clung bitterly to my
tongue now. I drained the glass and filled another before carrying
it over to the fridge and rummaging inside, suddenly ravenous.
Inside the fridge, I found a plate on the shelf and silently
thanked my mother. I kicked the door shut and threw the plate in
the microwave, staring impatiently at the revolving chicken, mashed
potatoes and broccoli. As soon as it dinged, I had the food out and
practically shoveled it into my mouth, washing it down with a glass
of milk. Placing my dishes in the sink, I climbed the steps and
went straight into the bathroom.

I stripped off the too small pajamas
and stepped into a steamy shower. Clumps of dirt fell off me; the
hot water turned dingy grey as it circled the drain. I ran my hand
down my hair and registered how long it was, falling to my waist.
It had gotten much thicker and felt very heavy as it slowly
absorbed the water coming from the showerhead. My hands wandered
lower, weighing my new, impressive boobs with a smirk. I stood in
the hot spray long after I had lathered and conditioned my hair,
scrubbed my skin and even shaved the new hair on my legs and under
arms. Evelyn and I had started “shaving” when we were eleven. For
me, it had been a pointless ritual, as there wasn’t really any hair
to shave, and I’d quickly given it up. All my new curves felt
unfamiliar like I was in a stranger’s body. It was obvious to me
now that my body had fully matured while I slept.

Once I’d showered, I wandered to my
room wrapped in a towel. A small pile of new clothes sat on the
bed, along with a new hairbrush and large ponytail holders. The
corners of my mouth pulled up in a smile as I realized how much
thought my mom must have put into preparing for this day. I quickly
dressed in a tee shirt and drawstring yoga pants and sat at my
vanity. All the changes in my body should have prepared me for what
I saw in the mirror, yet it had not. I turned my head this way and
that examining the planes and angles of the unfamiliar face staring
back at me. The only familiar thing about it was my wide grey-blue
eyes, though they were now framed by thick, dark lashes. The child
was gone; a woman looked back at me. I saw a lot of my mom in my
features. I had to admit, despite the insecurities that plagued me
my entire life, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of.

I wasn’t at all tired. Of
course, I
had
just
spent a day or two sleeping, so what did I expect. After a long
moment of mental debate about what I should do, I pulled out my
laptop. Hard as it was to believe, I realized all these changes
happened in a single day. Checking my email didn’t occupy me for as
long as I’d hoped. After deleting the junk mail, I set my laptop
aside and tried to read my book, but it didn’t hold my attention
either. I gave up and went downstairs to watch television. Flicking
through channels trying to find something other than Law and Order
or an infomercial, I waited for my family to wake up. Something
told me there would be a lot to talk about tomorrow.

MY MOM WAS the first person awake. As
she stepped out of her room, still tying the fluffy red robe she’d
worn my entire life, she froze. Her face was a glowing mask of awe
and pride as she stared at me. She slowly walked closer as if
afraid I would suddenly vanish. I’d given up on television around
five in the morning and switched to staring blankly out the window,
my thoughts in such a tangle I couldn’t recall them the moment I
was summoned out of them.

I felt like I’d had a body transplant,
that this couldn’t possibly be me. My nails were still blue from
the polish Evelyn had used on them. The cut on my knee I got when I
fell out of the cherry tree when I was ten was still there. So was
the small, rounded line where Sariah smashed me in the head with a
crochet mallet. She claimed it was an accident, but I remain
unconvinced. So it was definitely the same body, it just seemed
like eight years had passed in a single night.

I stood, feeling odd in my own skin.
My mother rushed the rest of the way towards me and hugged me
tight. My lungs felt a little compressed from how tight she
squeezed, holding on for a very long time. When she pulled back, I
saw the tears on her cheeks. Placing her hand on my chin, she
smiled. “You’re beautiful, Amelia.” With her arm around my
shoulders, she led me into the kitchen. She began to make a big
breakfast, but she talked to me the whole time. “I’m so sorry I
didn’t prepare you more for that, Amelia.” Her head disappeared
into the pot cupboard, and her voice came out muffled. “I had
planned to spend the winter teaching you everything you needed to
know to be ready. Usually there are lots of signs before it comes,”
she said as she emerged, cast iron skillet in hand, “but I didn’t
notice anything out of the ordinary. Have you?”

I thought about it, biting an oddly
full lip. “Well,” I stopped, shocked by the sound of my own voice,
slightly throaty and husky. “I felt ill all week. I was running a
hundred and six degree temperature the other night.” I thought
harder. “No weird plant behavior. And all the things I ate were
normal. Well, normal for me, anyway,” I said, thinking of the
peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

“
Oh, Lia, I should have
phrased that better. The cravings aren’t just food, but for things
that go against your personality. Before my change, I craved hard
rock even though I’m a country girl at heart. If I’d had more time,
I would have warned you the signs were subtle.”

I thought about how I had been craving
attention on Halloween, and how Nate had pulled me out and brought
me home. He’d looked so worried. And then I remembered the first
day of school, and my first real exposure to this strange new life.
Could Nathanial have started this by electrocuting me?