The World Without Flags

“We’re worried about you, Kestrel,” Norman says. “It’s not good for you to be spending all day in the woods. Not now. We need to be together.” I look at him. He seems genuine, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see Franky studying me. Franky’s got other motives, but Norman is here because he’s concerned. At least that’s what he’s been convinced of. “You know,” Norman continues. “Everyone is here for you. You don’t have to be alone.”

“We need to see you,” Franky says. I look toward him. He’s leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed. He’s shaved recently, which is new. Franky was never the kind of person to worry about his shave. His clothes are new too. He’s dressing the part. The leader. I don’t really care if he wants to be the leader, but I see in his eyes that I’m part of his plan and I’m messing it up for him.

“I’m just pissed off right now,” I say. “No one needs to see that.”

“We all need each other right now,” Norman offers. I glance his way. I’ve never known Norman to be so sentimental. Actually, I’ve never known him to be sentimental at all, but I guess losing half of the Homestead in just a few days will do that to a person. Norman sighs. “Look,” he says. “We don’t want to bother you, Kestrel. We just want you to know that we’re here for you.” He gets up, and at first I think he’s going to try to hug me or something, but instead he turns toward the door. “We’ll let you be,” he finishes and walks toward the door.

“I’ll be right there,” Franky says. Norman turns toward him and nods and then smiles sadly at me before putting his hat on and stepping out the door. When he shuts it behind him, it makes a hollow sound. After a moment of silence, Franky clears his throat. “Have a seat,” he says. It sounds like an order. I feel my eyes narrow. I don’t like to be ordered around. Not even Eric ordered me around. But I don’t want to start anything with him. I got plans, and the last thing I need is some stupid confrontation with Franky to complicate it. I can’t let my emotions get the better of me. I have to think. So I sit down.

Franky takes a deep breath and studies me. I study him back. The atmosphere in the room has changed completely since Norman left. I realize I’m smarter than him and it relaxes me. But what sickens me is how different Franky is now than he was before. He has this know-it-all kind of aura about him. It’s like seeing him shining through all the fog, like he’s revealed himself. And it’s not pleasant.

“Look,” he says to me after a while. I think it’s supposed to be a parental voice. “I’m going to be honest with you. You’re a smart girl, you can handle the truth.” He uncrosses his legs and then leans toward me. “People here, everyone looked up to Eric. He started this place, he kept it going. He made people feel safe somehow.” He smiled as if the people he were talking about were stupid. “Now he’s gone and people are scared. They feel lost. What they need is continuity. Do you know what that means, Kestrel?”

Of course I know what it means, asshole.

But that’s not what I say.

I just nod.

“You see, in ancient times, when the old king died, sometimes the new king would marry the queen. Or the princess. Just to make people comfortable. Just to give them a sense of continuity.” He lets this soak in for a second. I don't say anything. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“You want to marry me?” I ask, purposefully stupid.

Franky laughs. “No, Kestrel, I don’t,” he says. But I detect a sparkle somewhere in his eye. I think of all his attention toward me a lot differently now, and it makes me want to shudder. “But if we’re seen together, people will feel that sense of continuity. They will feel more secure. All you have to do is be here, with me. Not out in the woods, sulking like a little girl. You’re going to have to grow up pretty fast now, okay?”

Condescending shit. Out in the woods sulking? I’d like to punch him in the face, but like I said, I have to control myself. After all, it’s evidence that they’re believing me, that they think I’m just angry at Eric or shocked with grief. They don’t suspect that Eric is still alive, hidden away in the old Land Rover, and I’m about ready to get him the hell out of here, as far away from Franky as possible. So I’m winning here, even if it feels differently.

“What do you think, Kestrel? Can you do that for me?” It’s the old Franky now, the one I liked so much. His whole mannerism has changed. It repulses me how quickly he can change, but I hide it.

I smile and nod. “Sure,” I say. Then I add a “Sorry,” just for some bite.