Max Collins - Before the Dawn

No matter how hard the girl in the red cap tried, it seemed, she couldn’t raise the second ball on top of the first. Without really realizing what she was doing, Max stepped out from behind the evergreen and moved in to assist the other child.

One of the few human instincts that remained strong in her, despite Manticore’s best efforts, was the need to help her “brothers and sisters”... and this girl, so close to her own age, touched that sibling cord within the X5-unit.

When Max appeared, the girl in the red cap stood up straight and her mouth fell open in obvious surprise. Max didn’t say a word, just moved to the other side of the ball and put her hands underneath it. The snow felt cold against her hands, yet it was oddly bracing, not unpleasant at all, and the bare skin on her arms, where the sleeves of the nightshirt rode up, began goose-pimpling.

The girl in the red cap grasped the plan immediately and moved to help. Together, the two little girls — for Max was, for all her training, despite the genetic tampering, a little girl, too — lifted the new globe of snow up on top of the first one.

“Hold it there for a minute,” the girl in the red cap asked, panting, not able to keep up with Max, “willya?”

Max nodded dutifully, keeping her hands on the ball to keep it from rolling off.

Catching her breath, the girl in the cap said, “I’ve... I’ve got to... pack some snow around it... to keep it from falling off. Y’know?”

Max nodded again, even though she had no idea what was going on. Finally, she asked, “What is the object?”

The girl in the cap looked at Max curiously. “Huh?”

“What are you doing here? What purpose is served?”

“Purpose?... We’re building a snowman, silly.”

“Oh. A kind of... decoy?”

The little girl frowned. “Does Frosty here look like a duck to you?”

“No!.. Is this is a statue?”

The other little girl obviously had never thought of it that way. “Well... yeah. Sort of.”

“But the statue will melt. It is impermanent.”

“Of course he’ll melt, someday. But not while it’s this cold.”

“If the statue will melt, what’s the purpose?”

“It’s fun!”

This word had been heard before by Max, but represented a foreign concept; such was the nature of much Manticore training.

“Aren’t you having fun, helping?” the girl in the cap asked, her breath pluming. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Max.”

“Max? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“No. I’m a girl.”

“Duh! I can see that... I’m Lucy. Lucy Barrett.” The girl kept packing snow as they conversed, smoothing and securing the snow orbs. Max, a quick learner, imitated the action.

“Lucy is your name. Hello, Lucy.”

“Hello, Max. Aren’t you cold?”

Max shrugged again. “A little.”

The girl in the cap explained that “Frosty” now needed a head; Max pitched in and they fashioned a smaller ball.

“Are you sick, Max?”

“Sick?”

“You look like you walked out of a hospital or somethin’.”

“Oh. No. I am well.”

“Good,” Lucy said, putting finishing touches on the third ball. “You live around here?”

Max shook her head, helping lift the “head” onto the snow statue.

“Are you staying with relatives, too, Max?”

“Relatives?”

“Where’s your mom? My mom would be really mad if I came outside without my coat, my boots, my mittens, or my stocking cap.”

“Mom?” Max braced the final ball as Lucy patted it into place, until it felt more solid, like it wouldn’t move if she were to let go. Max didn’t let go, though.

“You do have a mom don’t you? Or do you live with your dad?”

“Dad?”

Lucy removed a carrot from one pocket of her winter coat and two lumps of coal from another; she made a face out of them — Max understood that instantly — and then they stood and looked at their work of art, considering it carefully.

The older girl looked carefully at Max, too, and seemed only to be half kidding when she asked, “You aren’t a refugee from a loony bin, are you?”

“Loony bin?”

The girl in the cap frowned. “Listen, are you from another country?”

“I’m an American.” Max knew that much.

“Well, don’t you have a mom?”

“I never had a mom.”

“How can that be?”

“Lucy... I don’t even know what a mom is.”

The girl in the cap began to laugh.

“Did I say something funny?” Max asked, a little irritated, but not knowing why.

Lucy’s laughter caught in her throat. “You’re... you’re serious? You don’t know what moms are?”

Suddenly feeling very ignorant, Max said, “Uh, no.”

“Well... how do you think you got here?”

Max wanted to say, I escaped from Manticore, stowed away on a truck, then...

But she didn’t say that; she might be unschooled in the ways of the outside world, but Max nonetheless knew that this wasn’t what Lucy meant.

Lucy had another question, faintly mocking: “You were born, weren’t you?”

Another question Max had no answer for.

Now Lucy stepped forward, patting the snow, smoothing the statue. “Is that why you’re dressed like that? ’Cause you got nobody to take care of you?”

Max wondered how she could have received so much training in the last nine years, learned so much, studied so hard, and yet still this girl in the red cap could come up with all these questions, the answers to which Max had no idea.

They moved to the shoveled cement front steps of the house and sat down. Lucy asked, “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

Finally, a question she knew the answer to. “No.”

“Me neither. My mom’s inside visiting with my aunt. We’ve been here since yesterday. I like it here, ’cause Dad isn’t along... But we’ll be leaving for home soon.”

Max said, “An ant is an insect.”

Lucy laughed. “Not that kind of ant! Are you kidding?... Aunt Vicki is my mom’s sister.” Again the laughter was replaced by a look of concerned curiosity. “Max — did you run away?”

“Uh... yeah. I ran away.” The questions seemed to be getting easier now.

Lucy pulled off her mittens. “Here — you take these.”

Gratefully, Max tugged on the mittens. They were wet from the snow, but they still were better than nothing, and she appreciated the warmth of Lucy’s gesture, even more. “Thanks.”

“So, Max... you don’t have a home.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No, Lucy.”

“And I don’t have a sister.”

“I have sisters. And brothers.”

“Really? Where?”

“We... we’re all split up.”

“Broken home, huh... I know a lotta kids in your situation.”

Somehow Max doubted that.

Lucy was looking toward the house, a split-level with a large picture window in the living room upstairs; then her eyes returned to Max, and a new excitement was glittering there. “You don’t have any clothes, or anywhere to stay, or anything to eat, right?”

Again Max found herself at a loss for words. But now that her hands were warmer, she started to realize how cold the rest of her had become. She started shivering and had to work to keep her teeth from chattering.

“Max, my mom is a real softie. She wanted me to have a sister, but she and Dad couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. But I do know one thing: my mom could help you.”

Frustrated, Max said, “Lucy, I still don’t know what a ‘mom’ is ,” shaking her head, not liking where this seemed to be going.

Looking confused now herself, Lucy pondered that for a moment. Absently, she rose from the steps and went back to work on the snowman, smoothing it as she considered the problem. Max joined her, standing as silent as Frosty.