Chapter Four Son

Precious sat on the side of Roach’s bed, his hand trailing through Roach’s dark brown hair gently as the elder boy slept. Precious’ hand paused, his fingers tangled in Roach’s hair, and he watched as the Drone’s eyes grew damp and a silent bead of moisture fell from his lashes to wet his cheek. Inhaling deeply, Precious closed his eyes and parted his lips, softly beginning to sing a lullaby he remembered from his childhood, all the while wondering what sort of dreams were bringing tears to Roach’s eyes.

“Its time, Roach.”

Roach felt tears running down his face as he opened his eyes, finding himself laying on a cool, metal table. His fingers trembled as he ran the tips of his fingers along the smooth surface he was resting on. Tilting his head wearily, he saw his own reflection staring back at him. In the reflection of the mirror, he saw concrete walls and a rat scurry into a crack in the corner. His eyes widened and he sat up sharply, his breath coming in painful gasps. Heart thudding against his chest, he twisted and pushed his feet roughly to the floor, staggering back against the cold, hard wall.

Outside he knew there were Drones and Sons watching him, shaking their heads or turning away in disgust. Roach heard the turn of the knob and watched in growing horror as Lovely stepped into the room with him carrying a syringe between his fingers. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Roach.”

Roach shook his head, sobbing. “Its not my fault! I did my best, Lovely. I did my best.”
He felt Lovely’s hand move through his hair. “Just relax, my Son. This will be over soon. You won’t feel a thing.”

Roach fell against Lovely and sank against him, merely crying into the Drone’s shoulder as he felt the bite of the needle in his arm. Lovely’s hands were combing through his hair and rubbing his back. “Shh, go to sleep, Roach.”

Then, Roach knew only pain. He could feel the drugs tearing through his veins and his heart throbbing against his ribcage as it pumped the toxic fluids throughout his body. His legs buckled and his chest burned, but he found he couldn’t make a sound. He dropped to his knees on the damp floor, Lovely had been replaced by Joyful Tears, who glared down at him.

“This is your fault!” She snarled, pointing a thin finger toward the metal table which was now occupied by a peacefully sleeping baby. Roach looked up at the child briefly then down at his hands as boils began to form across his skin. The boils spread all over him, and his skin began to peel away and fall in clumps about his knees. “This is all your fault, Cockroach!”

“Keep me safe, Roach.” Now Precious was laying on the table; the child had vanished. “Don’t let the boogeymen get me, Roach…. Don’t let them get me.“ He paused as a serene expression softened his features. “If I must be put to sleep, Roach, will you be the one to do it?”

Roach screamed and flung his hands to his hair, still feeling Lovely’s hands combing through the tangled brown locks. Jerking violently away from the hands that reached for him, Roach fell from the bed onto the floor, crawling backwards on his hands and scraping the balls of his bare feet against the floor clumsily before his back hit the wall. “Its not my fault!”

“Roach?”

The Drone shuddered at his name, recognizing the voice as his Son, Precious. Choking back a sob, he looked around, finding not the dark chamber that he had expected, but his own room.

Warm sunlight was spilling in through the windows and Precious, very much alive and well, was kneeling in front of him. Roach brushed away his tears with the cuff of the shirt that Precious had draped about him the night before. “Its alright, Precious. Just a bad dream.”

“What happened that night, Roach?” Precious asked quietly.

It had been almost a month since the catastrophic events of Roach’s birthday, and Roach had still not told his Son anything about it. He felt too ashamed. Since that fateful night, the Drone had not been the same. He’d been losing weight and refusing to speak to anyone except for Precious, and even their conversations had become less and less frequent. Lately, much to Precious’ dismay, Roach had become content to stay bundled beneath the covers of his bed, drifting in and out of sleep.

Roach stood to his feet. “I wasn’t good enough for her.” He replied impassively, striding toward the doors. He grabbed the knob and twisted it, tugging it open. Precious started to follow, but Roach shook his head. “No, Precious. Stay here.”

“But, Roach…” The younger boy began weakly.

“Precious!” Roach snapped. “Just stay here and be quiet! I swear, Precious, if you follow me I’ll… I’ll kill you!” With that, he turned his back on his startled Son and ran.

The sun was dipping below the horizon when Precious heard the doorknob turn, and he stood up slowly, turning his wearied eyes to the door. Instead of Roach, Lovely stood in the doorway, his slender fingers still curved around the knob. “Good evening, Precious. I’m looking for Roach, is he here?”

Precious shook his head slowly, lowering himself back down into a sitting position on the side of the bed. “No, he’s not been here since this morning.”

“Do you know where he is, Precious?” Lovely’s brows furrowed. “Its important that I speak to him as soon as possible.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Lovely’s voice was now marked with concern. “Precious, he could be in trouble. Did he say anything to you that might tell us where he went?”

“He was upset… about what happened the night he mated, I think, but I have no idea where he went. Surely someone else has seen him today… it looks like a storm is coming. ” Precious added nervously as he heard the low roaring of distant thunder and saw dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Lovely glanced out of the window then looked back to Precious, shaking his head slowly.

“Precious, no one has seen him today. I’ve looked all over and he isn’t here. The only place we haven’t checked is the Morgue, and surely he wouldn’t go there.” Lovely paused, lowering his eyes then continued in a soft whisper. “Precious… Joyful Tears is pregnant. She’s pregnant with Roach’s child.”

Precious brought a trembling hand to his lips to stifle a shuddering gasp, lurching to his feet and dashing from the room, his shoulder pushing roughly against Lovely, causing the older male to stagger backwards and nearly loose his balance. Precious did not stop even as Lovely shouted his name behind of him. A jarring crack of thunder caused the building to shudder, and rain began to pour from the black sky as Precious stumbled into the rain, his bare feet squelching audibly in the rain water pooling in the grass.

The Morgue loomed like a black tombstone at the far end of the field where the colony stood.

Besides the Mothers’ mansion there was a large, flat building to the left of the mansion that was twice as big, though much more plain. It was made of brick and old, chipping mortar with a pair of massive metal doors at the entrance. This is where the Workers- infertile young women- and the other Drones would sleep and have their meals when they were not working. Beside the flat building was a large plot of land set aside for the colony’s garden. The Morgue stood at the edge of the field just in front of the wall of trees that extended into a dense forest. The forest surrounded the colony like a natural fence, and no one was allowed to enter it.

Precious slid to an unsteady stop a few steps from the mansion, lifting both hands to cup them about his lips and shout the name of his Drone. Lightning flashed overhead and the thunder drowned out his cry. His stomach churned and his heart began to pound against his ribcage. He called once more, spinning in a slow circle to take in the garden and the open section of the field before his eyes came to rest again on the Morgue.

His feet slid on the slippery, wet grass as he began to run again, the rain already causing his clothes to cling to him like a second skin. His hair became heavy and hung limp and soaked by his face; when he broke into a run, the saturated strands struck his face and plastered themselves across his nose and cheeks.

By the time he had reached the doors of the Morgue, Precious’ body had gone numb from the cold rain. He clumsily pushed open the heavy door and narrowed his eyes, trying to adjust to the sudden and complete darkness that lingered within the walls of the Morgue. He stuck out one hand, blindly feeling the wall for the switch to the lights that he knew were hovering above him like pale snakes. “Roach?” His fingers brushed over prickly, wet fur, and the boy gasped, jerking away as he heard the rat squeak in fear.

Giving up on the lights, Precious started inside, stretching out his arms searchingly like a blind man. His lips continuously formed the name of the Drone, but his voice had deserted him as he strained his ears to try to find even the slightest sound over the cracking of thunder and the sound of his feet and the feet of rats pattering across the damp floor.

Just as he was about to give up hope, lightning flashed into the sky, its light spilling briefly through the door and illuminating the dark room. Precious’ eyes widened as he saw the familiar form of Roach sitting inside of the Room on the metal table, a needle poised above his wrist. “Roach, stop!” His wet hands fumbled with the doorknob, and he half expected to find it locked. The door soon swung open, however, much to his delight, and he raced inside, stretching one hand for the syringe just as lightning flashed again.

The two boys fell onto the floor in a heap and the syringe slipped away from their hands and clattered across the floor. Roach shoved Precious away and sat up rigidly, grabbing a handful of Precious’ curling hair. He jerked Precious up into a sitting position and brought the younger boy’s face to his, shouting. “What are you doing, Precious?! I told you not to follow me!”

Roach shoved Precious into the wall, releasing his hair and curling his hand into a fist, driving it into Precious’ chest. Precious cried out as Roach’s fists were repeatedly hammered into his ribs and stomach. The older boy finally struck Precious across the face, sending the smaller boy to the floor. Precious laid still on the wet floor, his cheek pressed against a puddle of water that had formed from his wet clothing. Tears were spilling down his cheeks, adding to the moisture collecting around his face. “I couldn’t let you, Roach…”

“Let me what?!” Roach snarled, kicking Precious in the ribs. “Let me end my life? They’re going to kill me anyway! I couldn’t please her, Precious! She hated me!”

“You’re… you’re wrong.” Precious whimpered through a soft sob. “Lovely came…”

“You see?! He’s coming to tell me that they’re going to put me down!”

“Roach, please,” Precious begged weakly, painfully pushing himself to his knees. He tilted back his head to look up in Roach’s direction; their faces were fleetingly visible with the periodical bursts of light from the lightning crashing outside. “Roach, you have to listen to me. Lovely came to tell you that Joyful Tears is pregnant.”

There was silence except for the rumbling thunder.

“She’s pregnant, Roach,” Precious repeated.

Roach dropped to his knees, putting a trembling hand over his face. “And I almost…” He didn’t finish, and Precious warily reached toward him, pulling Roach into a gentle embrace as the dark skinned Drone began to softly cry.

“She’s pregnant, Roach,” He repeated, tears of his own staining his cheeks. “You’ll have a real child… a real son…”