Brian kissed his baby daughter Cami for the last time.
After three full years of waiting, he was finally accepted into the Games building to get tested and suited for the GAME. Out of two hundred and thirty applicants, only fifteen of those would be drafted according to knowledge, stability and health. Brian’s parents couldn’t afford to bring him to school, but he was an intelligent man who picked up on things with ease. The library on the lower West Side of town provided him with all of the information he needed and a free library card to boot. He studied all areas of knowledge and was certain that he would exceed when it came to that portion of the testing. To boost his stability, he constructed a crude exercise bike out of scraps of wood he stole from a large construction site on the north side of town. Surely he wouldn’t need the bike if it weren’t for the circumstances surrounding it. Since he lived on such a rank portion of town, it wasn’t safe to train early in the morning or during the night. Unfortunately, Brian went to work in the morning and came back quite late in the afternoon; therefore he was unable to train when he came back from work. Ingeniously he thought of the exercise bike solution, which suited his problem efficiently.
Running outside was also more than exercise to a being; it was punishment. After about fifteen minutes of walking outside on a regular day, a person would feel the effects of the pollution on their lungs. Most people (if they were lucky to survive, of course) described this as a burning sensation, like someone has poured kerosene down your throat and thrown a flaming match down with it.
Brian discovered this the hard way when he was just a young man on his way to work. He walked his usual way, avoiding alleys and swinging his near bare lunch kit in the breeze. This was before he was married, a young and single man minding his business on his way to the pulp mill. The apple resting in his lunch kit was starting to make his stomach rumble, for he has missed breakfast in his rush to get going early that morning. It was that combination of polluted air and hunger that sent him on his way to the hospital.
Brian was lucky enough to pass out after he got out of the West Side area; if he hadn’t he most certainly would have been rat food. Nobody had the money to care anymore; it was an all for one free-for-all. Sometimes Brian would try to drop in a good deed, but he was only one person and even his trust had some limitations.
The pain came in great gusts; the first gust in itself nearly knocked Brian to his knees. In a matter of moments he was on the ground, gasping for his life’s air. With every breath he took the pain circulating around the core of his exhausted heart increased and accelerated. Around him people walked by, all pretending to do him a favor by minding their own business. Brian could barely see them though, even so he cried out for help in a meek voice like he could see them.
Then fate stepped in for the loyal churchgoer. A meek-looking young woman with stringy brown hair and clothes in pretty much the same condition as his came to his rescue. She was on her way to the market, she once told him, with a medium-sized wicker basket tucked protectively under one slender arm. The tiny woman only had enough money to fill that basket halfway, but she wove it that large for a reason. It was a symbol of good luck, but also more of a goal. One day she wanted to have enough money to fill the basket to maximum capacity, and then some.
She had a child at home; a product of a former marriage with a middle-class man that she still loved. They were forced to part because of differences in their class and last she heard he had remarried and had three more children to boot. Still, she didn’t blame him; he had a right to be happy, even so she was miserable.
As much as fate was on Brian’s side that day, it was on hers. She once said that the only reason why she stayed on the dreaded Earth for as long as she did was because of her child. Without her precious baby boy, she really had no reason to live as sad as it may seem. But when she met Brian, her reasons increased by one more important vote.
She saw him quivering on the ground with his hand rapidly clawing near his heart and his legs kicking wildly at the air. Her first fleeting thought was just to leave him like everyone else was because he was probably only faking so that she would get close enough for him to kill or rape her. But when she saw his eyes mist over and roll into their respective sockets, her medical knowledge kicked in. She had read many books, perhaps all the library had to offer, on this sort of thing. One could never be certain when dealing with a baby. Especially her little baby; he was special.
Doctors convinced her that her child was mentally retarded, but she was so sure that it was more, especially considering the way he behaved was perfectly normal. The only problem was his seizures and his incessant crying, which had already caused her to lose three apartments.
With her child safely tucked at home under the care of her mother, she went to the market to pick up some very basic necessities. Like Brian, she lived in the lower parts of town and was always glad for an excuse to get away for a while. The city was even more dangerous for a woman her age, but the town was already bad enough. She carried kitchen knives strapped to her ankles and wrists and a switchblade in each pocket. Normally women would not do this and she admitted to being a bit paranoid, but so far she hadn’t been attacked.
Brian was blocking her path on the way to the market, so she really had no choice but to move in that direction. She saw one little girl step on his hand without so much as a glance downwards. Her intention was just to step over him as well, but as she got closer she saw how stunning he truly was. That was when she first realized that she would save his life.
Using her knowledge first, she turned Brian so that he was facing upwards. If he had lain on his side, there was always the possibility that he may have choked to death on his own tongue. She took her oxygen filter and covered his mouth with it, strapping it firmly behind his head as well. The clasp could have broken, considering her head was a lot tinier in comparison to his, but it held the entire time.
Luckily, that area of town was un peu classier than the areas in which they dwelled and she was able to find a pay phone nearby. She hoped this man was well off or at least had enough to pay for his own medical, because in that respect she wouldn’t be able to help. While she dialed 911, she observed that the man she had saved was breathing normally, but still clutching his heart.
Saved. She liked the sound of that, even so the medics that came to pick the man up looked at her as though she were mad. It made her think long and hard about the longing she’d had to become something. A doctor, or a nurse; something like that. But because of her child, she had never been able to keep a steady job.
A man’s voice knocked her out of her reverie. She hadn’t realized that she was standing there staring at the scene unfolding in front of her without actually seeing anything. The man was being lifted into the ambulance air car, the fastest non-sport machine in the New World.
“Huh?” she replied gracelessly.
The young man in front of her sighed. “Are you going with him or not? We have to get him to the hospital quickly you know.”
“Oh, of course,” she said, without realizing it. Before she knew it she was strapped in a seat at the back of the ambulance, travelling approximately six hundred kilometers an hour with a man she did not know. She sighed loudly and tucked her fingers into her dark hair. All she wanted to do that day was get some fruit.
A medic regarded her silence. “What’s wrong miss?” he inquired.
“Mama’s going to kill me,” she responded glumly.
“Do you know this man?”
“I have absolutely no idea who he is. Why, is he rich?”
“No, I don’t think so. But he doesn’t have any ID on him so we’ll have to wait until he regains consciousness before we can find out.”
“Peachy,” she mumbled, but the medic couldn’t hear her. He was fiddling with the man’s IV, trying to preoccupy himself. Her female radar detected that the medic had a crush on her, but she had no time for dates. She’d consider it if she found out how much he made, though.
Two minutes later the air car hovered three inches above the hospital parking lot. The medics were all in such a hurry that she didn’t even get to read the sign. Well, she would find out where she ended up later then.
In the waiting room, three things occurred to her. Number one, she had no clue where she was and her mother had a doctor’s appointment one hour from the current time. The second thing was that she’d lost her wicker basket in all of the rush and her mother would scold her dreadfully for it. Besides, it was her favorite; after all she wasn’t very good with her hands and the basket had been beautiful. The last thing was what scared her the most. This man that she had helped was in dire condition and it never occurred to her before but he might not live. She knew that if he died she would cry a fist full of tears and make a total fool of herself.
At last she decided to get up and find out where she was. She located a booth and lined up behind a row of people. A nurse had been late coming back from a coffee break, she overheard, and now everything was behind. The nurse’s obvious disability wasn’t helping to kill the line either.
“Hurry it up or I’ll inform your boss!” shouted a rude man in a stiff-looking two piece suit. The girl behind the booth looked frightened for a second, and then she steadied up her pace. Still, by the time she got up to the booth, a half an hour had passed.
“May I help you?” the girl asked pleasantly, obviously relieved that the line was almost through.
“Yes, I’d like to know where I am.”
“Pardon ME?” she shrieked, leaning over the counter and getting to close for comfort.
Taking a step backwards (and nearly toppling down by doing so) she addressed the question. “Um, I SAID where AM I?”
“You don’t have to shout, I’m not deaf,” the girl huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into the booth.
‘Could have fooled me,’ she thought wickedly. The girl gave her the information she wanted, and her mouth gaped open in surprise.
“But that’s sixty kilometers away from where I live!” she shouted, running her hands through her grimy hair in despair. The girl behind the counter just shrugged at her and yelled, “Next!” at the poor man standing closest to the booth.
Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a telephone booth, and decided to call her mother at no charge to her. She supposed that she could convince her to cancel the appointment, after all it was just a routine check-up. The old guy only did her mammograms for free because he was a regular pervert. He had never tried to make a move on them since he discovered the blade hiding in her left buttock pocket.
Unfamiliar with the buttons as she was (911 was on speed dial on the other telephone) it took her a lengthy amount of time to pick and find the numbers she needed. Why did her telephone number have to be so long? She remembered that she only had the telephone service until the end of the month because she couldn’t afford the bill. Sighing, she waiting for her mother to pick up the telephone and answer the last phone call they would get.
Her mother was absolutely furious with her, of course, and she didn’t really blame her. After her heated argument with her mother, she decided to pay the man who had caused her all of this trouble a visit. Maybe he would be able to help her figure out a way out of this town without her having to use her body.
Stepping into the room, she remembered how much she hated hospitals. They were so depressing with their peachy-clean white walls and their rooms full of patients who weren’t breathing by themselves. The man she had saved was hooked up to several machines and he was a shade paler then when she saw him the last time. She still didn’t really know what was wrong with him; no one had even stopped long enough to explain it to her.
Glancing back over her shoulder briefly, she decided that it would be safe to venture over to his bedside to hold his hand. Naturally, it was cold; in fact the entire room was cold. She tucked her fingers in his and tried to ignore the steady beat of the heart monitor; if she didn’t she would certainly go mad. It was her decision to wait until he woke up before she figured out how to get home.
When he woke up, she explained her situation to him. Since she saved his life, he agreed that she could use what little money was left in his wallet to get home. She brought his wallet back over to the bed and found only ten New Dollars inhabiting the inside pouch. That would be barely enough for her to get home, but it would certainly do. Still, she felt guilty for taking all of his money and leaving him with no ride home. She turned to look at him so that she could refuse the money once more and their eyes locked for what seemed like an eternity. Then she decided she would wait for him to get better and they would ride home together.
They met once more, and that second time Brian had a woven wicker basket tucked under his arm. She had no idea how he knew that she had misplaced hers, but that gesture won her over instantly. Surely it took months of courting and convincing her mother that he was appropriate, but she knew she had made the right decision in the end.
Now she was staring thoughtfully out the window partly because she was furious with him for entering the Games and partly because she feared she would cry upon the sight of him. He was at the top of his game in the knowledge and stability categories, but there was still the most important one of all left over. Health.
When he toppled over that fateful day, it was because of a heart murmur which had been growing and expanding on his left ventricle every since he was a baby. The pollution extended it to its peak and his poor heart could not pump enough blood to serve his body. Doctors attached a synthetic patch to the hole (which he was still trying to pay off) and he never had a problem since. She was very afraid that he would not be picked because of this.
Gretchen and Brian Littrell, who first met in a hospital, were facing a terrible money crisis. Brian thought he did the only thing a man of his position was able to do during these days. He got drafted for the Games. Gretchen would receive paychecks and the only way she would know if the Games were over for Brian was if the checks stopped coming in.
He knew that Gretchen was terribly upset by this. The only time he had seen her this bad was when her baby boy from her first marriage (coincidentally named Brian) died of an inoperable brain tumor before he turned two. He had confidence in himself and knew that he would do well, but he had no way to convince Gretchen of that fact. They had a baby girl now who needed an operation and Brian would be damned if he wouldn’t get the money for her.
Chapter 2
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