It seems like such a long time since I last saw sunlight. Its pale light streams in through the glass, bathes my skin in a dusty yellow glow. I pull my knees up to my chest, rest my head against them and close my eyes. Daylight. Air. Life.It's arousing how alien these things are to me now. I've never had these things for so long, such a short time ago though it feels. But today, today is a special day. Today I get to wake up.to wake up? And I realize that whatever I am, wherever I am, I am not alone. That thought brings a smile as I sit up. One of the others out there, one of the other survivors, I am welcomed to the world with a smile.
One of the others.
As I sit there, I suddenly remember.
It had been so long.
Dozens of fellow prisoners here, me and the other ones, the others. I thought that I was the only one left, that there would not be any more and I would have my family after I had gone. I had left them so long ago, it was hard to believe that they were still there. But they were. And they had been waiting.
I bury my face in my hands. Where was my father? I was so close to him, so close and now he was gone. He was gone.
Suddenly, I can no longer remember anything. So much time has passed and I can't even remember his face anymore.
I open my eyes, slowly. This room is tight, claustrophobic. I wonder if it was cell. I stand, walk forward. The materials here are not new. The medical equipment. The medical equipment here is worn.
There is a leather chair here, thick and padded. I sit down and look around. The other ones are in here with me. In a circle, I see. My eyes sweep over the faces of a few of the others and my body shakes. There is Mr. Kweik and Ero. That makes sense. My mother went to him, to him and his wife to raise me. My mother had always loved them and I'm sure they did the same. It makes sense that they would be here.
I look over to the other side of the room. Mr. Hardy is here, too. He is still alive. His eyes meet my own, holding a knowing look and I smile. The others start to look at me, but I ask them not to stop. I want to know. They are happy to hear that. So happy. Mr. Hardy looks away, apparently not wanting to share my joy.
Then, I see her. Neny. My mother, my mother, I think of her as that here. As my mother. Her eyes light up with happiness. She is here. It doesn't matter that her name isn't Neny. It doesn't matter that I don't even know her name. I see her. There is no missing the smile on her face. It is a happy one, a warm one. I see her looking at the other ones in the room. I smile, too.
"Where else are you guys from?" I ask.
"We're from the House. The school," she says.
My mother. I try to remember the last time I saw her and I suddenly remember. The day I went out to the woods to get medicine for her. I had told her that I loved her and she had said the same in return. Then she had been there, in this room, waiting. I turned away. I had been too young to see the smile on her face, the tears in her eyes.
"Where's Dad?" I ask.
"He's not here," she says and shakes her head.
"But," I say, and find that I can't pause to finish the sentence. I can't get it out. I try, but I can't.
"We are waiting, trying to keep alive, Patrick. To be ready when the Door opens."
The Door. I look at her, the others, and I understand. They are ready to escape. They were ready to escape. They were waiting.
I pause.
"The alien," I say. "The man. The man in front of the door."
"The Door?" she asks.
"The alien. He was you. You were him." I remember now, the dark black eyes, the pale blue face and the skin. My mother is an alien!
She smiles at me and then she says, "You were with the aliens."
Now, it is my turn to look away. I am still not sure if I believe it. I set it aside. It would be too much to try to think about now. I had more questions. More important questions.
"Dad… Dad is there. He's not here?"
She doesn't respond to me. Instead, she looks at our circle, to the others. I follow her gaze. Mr. Hardy is the first to look away. He focuses on the ceiling, folds his arms. Mr. Kweik looks up from his bunk and then turns away. Mrs. Kweik looks too while her husband is looking away, then she looks away herself. The only one who doesn't look away is Ero. He stares at me. His eyes seem sad. I look back at my mother and I ask again.
"Where's Dad? Where's my father?"
She looks at me now, but she doesn't look sad. She seems… It's almost what I would call… happy. She smiles for a moment before she looks at the others in the room. They look away from me except for Ero. He doesn't look sad. He smiles at me, his eyes looking in my direction. This almost makes me smile back, but then I see his body start to ache. I remember what happened to him. A flake of the skin breaks off and falls away. Something is happening to him. He is conscious and he is conscious. They are conscious. I look back at my mother again, ask again.
"Mom, Dad is still alive."
"Yes," she says. "He is. He is alive, waiting. We are the only ones left. He is our family now."
She looks at me and I want to know. I need to know. I ask, "Where is he?"
She doesn't answer at first, then she says, "They took him away. He is waiting. They took him away! He is waiting."
She starts to shake now, nods her head and looks at me. She looks at me with those eyes. Pleading.
I understand now. She doesn't want me to go looking for him. She needs me here. They need me. I understand now. I get it. My mother never had any family. They were all dead. She had no parents and she had no husband except for my father. Yes, he was waiting for her. But we were waiting for him….
The Door.
The Door opened and here we all were. Waiting. Waiting for The Door to open again. For him to come. I can wait for him. I understand. I get it.
"He's waiting," I say.
She shakes her head, nods her head. "Yes, he is. He's waiting." She grabs my wrist and squeezes it, hard. "He is waiting…" Her head moves back and forth quickly and I watch her for a moment before I pull my wrist away. I need to sit down, but there is no room to sit.
"Mom," I say. "I don't blame you."
She looks at me and I see her eyes.
Neny.
"No," she says. "I don't blame you. I didn't blame him. He is the one who knew what was going to happen. We were all the same. We were all aliens. We all knew. I had always thought of him as my brother, but I don't know if he had a family."
She leaves it. I need to ask her something.
"Where are my clothes?"
She looks at me again and I can see the same sadness in her eyes that I had felt.
"They're in the closet, of course," she says.
I can feel her sadness—like mine—and I remember.
