Touched Ch. 10

"But this scanner can't be more than fifteen years old."

"The first City Dwellers we came into contact with were archeologists. They lived among us for many years, and died in the first raid, trying to defend our people. Even though their government forbade them from telling others about us, they secretly confided in a very few trusted associates. After they were killed, their colleagues approached us, stating they wanted to continue with the relationship their friends had established, albeit surreptitiously.

"As the decades pass, the faces change, but these individuals have remained trustworthy allies. Although we don't always have direct contact with them—we no longer allow City Dwellers to enter or know the location of our settlement, so any contact must be initiated by us—every year when they come for a dig they leave us medical supplies and outdated, but still useful technology that would otherwise be discarded. We provide them with information such as historical data and artifacts we've collected over the year. There are a few standard hiding places we've used for decades to make these exchanges."

"So it is fair to say this continued association has benefitted your people?" Grant asked.

Dr. Reynaldo nodded. "It has made certain aspects of our lives easier, yes."

"Good morning, Zarek," I greeted, smiling at the old man standing in the entry to his dwelling.

"Good morning. Not wasting any time, I see." He gestured for us to enter.

"I'm sorry?" Grant asked, following him inside.

Zarek motioned for us to sit at two chairs in front of a wooden table. "I was about to have my morning tea. Do you like peppermint?"

We both nodded. "Yes, please; thank you."

Grant and I waited quietly while the wrinkled old man retrieved two more cups from a wooden cabinet. He moved at a slow, deliberate pace, as if he had performed this ritual thousands of times before.

"I've been expecting you," he said at last, handing each of us a steaming cup. "I just figured you'd be so much in demand, it might take a while before you managed to make your way here."

"We were up early today to see Dr. Reynaldo," Grant explained. "We thought it might not be a bad idea to see you now, before things got...busy."

"I see. Rough night?"

"What? What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, if your first evening was anything like mine, it was accompanied by heart palpitations and difficulty breathing," Zarek replied, peering at us over the lip of his cup.

Grant and I looked at each other with surprise. "That's right. I fainted. Dr. Reynaldo called it a panic attack."

The old man smiled. "Oh yes. I'm well acquainted with the term, though not so much these days. They're certainly a...passionate people, aren't they?"

We nodded. "We were hoping to ask you some questions about your life here," Grant told him. "Since you're the only one who's lived in the city—"

"I could relate to how you're feeling right now?"

"That's right."

"Of course. Ask away."

"You were not born to the Outliers, correct?" Grant asked.

"First of all, 'Outliers' is what City Dwellers call these people," Zarek pointed out. "They don't consider themselves to be outsiders."

"What name should we use then?" I asked.

"Imogene referred to them as the "Forest People", and most don't object to that, but they call themselves the Denu. But to answer your original question, no, I was not born to them, though I consider myself one now."

"We noticed that you don't seem...uncomfortable being touched," Grant said. "Were you born that way, or did you have to get used to it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, you were born that way, or yes, you had to get used to it?"

"Yes to both. Now, if you had asked me that when I first arrived, or even as recently as ten years ago, I would've given you different answers. But after more than thirty years of living among the Denu, I've concluded all humans are born with the need for physical closeness. It's just that we—those who grew up in the city—were trained to reject those instincts.

"But even in the city, caretakers are instructed to provide regular massage to their charges the first nine years of their lives. They wear gloves, of course, but specialized ones like doctors use. Caretakers are told the massages are necessary to ensure proper growth and development of tissues, but it's become clear to me, from watching people here live, love and raise their young, that touching each other strengthens social bonds and encourages healthy mental and emotional development. Tell me, how do you feel about your caretakers?"

"I was very close with mine, Amelia," I answered. "I caused her a lot of worry and frustration, being the way I am, but I've never doubted that she cared about me, and believe she still does."

"Caleb...could be stern, distant, but I feel connected to him as well, more so than most people," Grant responded.

"I, too, remember mine fondly, and I don't think it's a coincidence," Zarek said. "In the lives of most City Dwellers, caretakers are the only individuals who gave us physical affection, even if it's not recognized as such by either them or us."

"Was it difficult to adjust to living with people who were so different?" I asked.

"Was it difficult growing up in the city as a 'deviant'? Of course. Especially the first several years, there were times when I considered taking my life rather than tolerate another person hugging me or putting a hand on my shoulder in an expression of solidarity or sympathy. It made me crazy, their constant need to paw at each other to signify they meant what they said. But I grew to tolerate their behavior, and in time, develop an appreciation for it. I can't say it came easily, but I've learned to embrace that part of myself, so to speak."

"Have you ever...gotten close to someone? Have you ever been in love?"

Zarek raised his eyebrows. "Are you asking about love or are you asking about sex?"

I felt my face grow hot and looked down at my hands. "Both, I guess. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be nosy—"

"But you just can't help yourself?" He chuckled. "Now, now, there's no need to be embarrassed; I'm not offended by your curiosity. Yes, some years after I got over the worst of my aversion to skin-to-skin contact, I engaged in sexual relations with a few women. I even got to where I enjoyed the act of intimacy. As for love? I could never quite give what they needed to sustain a relationship."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right person."

Zarek smirked. "Spoken like someone in love. That's kind of you to say, my dear, but I don't feel any burning need to change the state of my life. I'm satisfied with the way things are."

"Speaking of change, what do you think about Raja's plan?" Grant asked. "Do you think it will succeed; do you think people in the city can change?"

"William asked me the same questions, so I'll tell you what I told him." The old man sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm only one person, but it took me many years to adjust, and that was after being immersed in a tactile culture. I'm not sure how, or if, they can do it on their own—the blind leading the blind, as they say.

"That drug her colleague formulated, U4EA, may have potential on a limited basis in helping to ease them toward embracing their dormant drives. I think they should be very wary, however, of moving from one pharmaceutical 'solution' to another; who knows what the side effects might be?" Zarek paused and shook his head. "No, if they truly wish to survive, they will have to learn to cope with their urges and feelings in all their messiness. If there's one thing I'm certain of, they're going to have one 'el of a mess on their hands."

I looked at Grant and saw the worry I felt reflected in his face. "Really? Do you think they're making a mistake?" I asked.

"That's not what I said," Zarek responded. "I'm not certain I agree with their methods, but I am in favor of exposing the truth. These people have been sleepwalking for centuries, all the while marching straight into oblivion. It's time they woke up. All I meant is that there's no telling how people will react to the truth, and somehow I doubt this Raja and her allies fully grasp the size of the storm they're about to unleash."

"That's a...frightening thought," Grant said. "There are people in the city we care about. We don't want them to get hurt."

I jumped at an unexpected knock on the door.

"Well, it looks like they found out where you were hiding," the old man commented, placing his cup on the table before rising to his feet.

I swallowed and looked at Grant, who gave me an encouraging smile. "I'd suggest we make a run for it, but all the other exits lead to a ten-meter drop."

"See any rope around here?" I replied, reaching for his hand.

We laughed softly and waited. A few moments later our host returned with William at his side.

"Good morning, Astrid and Grant; I trust you slept well," the settlement leader greeted, his eyes betraying his own fatigue. I wondered if he'd gotten any sleep since our arrival.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry to interrupt your visit, but the Council needs to speak with you." He turned his eyes toward me. "Do you feel well enough to do so now?"

"Yes, sir."

William gave Grant and me a tired smile and gestured for us to follow. "There's no need to call me 'sir'; 'William' will do."

"Yes, s—William," I replied, standing up, giving Zarek a sheepish grin.

Grant turned to the old man. "Thank you for the tea, and for speaking with us this morning."

He nodded. "No doubt we'll be seeing more of each other soon."

We followed William at a brisk pace from platform to platform, the wooden planks thumping under our feet as he led us from one wood and rope bridge to another. Even though the flexible walkways made my stomach queasy, we walked across them so quickly I found myself able to, if not forget the precarious height at which we traveled, block it out. Then we reached the longest bridge yet, at least twice as long than the ones before. I came to a stop, unable to go on; my stomach dropped as I looked across the divide.

"It takes a while to get used to, I know," the older man said kindly, as if he knew my thoughts. "When my daughter was small, she hated walking on the bridges so much she'd climb down a ladder, walk along the ground, then climb back up when she reached the platform where she wanted to go."

"I can't say that option sounds all that appealing either," I admitted with a nervous laugh.

William smiled. "Focus on taking slow, deep breaths and look straight ahead as you walk. This is the last one."

On instinct my hand sought out Grant. When we made contact he pulled me close and gave me a squeeze. "When we're finished here, let's say we find a different way back to Taran's dwelling?" he whispered in my ear.

Smiling, I looked up into his shining face and nodded. I gave the bridge a grim look and sighed. "Well, guess we better get it over with."

By keeping up with the settlement leader's wide, confident strides, we reached the opposite side, though not quickly enough to suit me, and I resolved to avoid that bridge, and others like it, for the foreseeable future. We walked in silence until we came upon a large building. Like the medical clinic, the entrance was adorned with an elaborate carving, this one a cluster of trees above its curved doorway, cascading into a tangle of intertwined roots on either side.

At the same time, Grant and I stretched out our hands and explored the carving with our fingers.

"It's so beautiful," I sighed. I looked up at the leader. "When we were at the Medical Clinic, we saw carvings beside the doors there as well. Do all public buildings contain such markings?"

The older man smiled as if he was pleased by my deduction. "Yes, they do. Tell me, what do you think this carving symbolizes?"

"Well, you live in the trees, so maybe the trees symbolize the Denu," I ventured, uncertain. Biting my lip, I cocked my head and thought for a moment. Then I recalled something Zarek had said. "When we were speaking with Zarek this morning, he said he believed all humans were born with the need for physical closeness, and that we use touching as a way to strengthen social bonds. Do the tangled roots represent touching?"

"You're close," William replied. "The trees do indeed represent our people, and the roots symbolize that we are united, and stronger together. But I suppose your interpretation is also correct. We have this strength largely because of our shared bond with one another."

Something occurred to me. "How did you come to live here, in the forest? I mean, why didn't your ancestors come to the city?"

The wavy-haired leader cleared his throat. "I'm afraid that's a long story, too long to explain now. After the meeting I must remain with the Council, but perhaps you could ask someone. Any number of people would be happy to recount our history. I would encourage you to explore the settlement today and meet some of our people. I know it may feel intimidating right now, but I think it will help you adjust to your new surroundings."

I gulped and exchanged a silent glance with Grant. William's suggestion startled me. I had planned on asking Grant if we could spend the rest of the day alone, at least until the gathering, touching each other and having sexual intercourse.

"Thank you for the suggestion, William," he replied, squeezing my hand. "Astrid and I will consider it."

"Good. Who knows, perhaps you will meet a member of your family. Are you ready to meet with the Council?"

Grant and I both took a deep breath and nodded. Our hands clasped together, we followed William, stepping inside the open door.