Free Halfskin by Tony Bertauski Page A

drawers, not so meticulous with them.
    She dragged the large bag to the corner and unloaded the toiletries around the sink. The Chicago Marriott welcome kit was neatly arranged against the mirror. Cali took the time to unload the toothpaste and deodorant and brushes and soap and everything else to keep the bathroom area in order. They'd be staying in the suite for the next couple weeks and Cali hated a messy bathroom.
    Avery jumped from bed to bed, giggling with each leap, crumpling the floral bedspreads in heaping wrinkles.
    Cali wanted a smoke. It was too far to walk down to the street. She brushed her teeth, instead. They'd been in the car long enough to pound out a pack of cigarettes. Her chest wheezed. She hated the city—too big, too cold—but she hated not knowing even more. And she came to Chicago, not knowing if things would work.
    They have to. They have to.
    Cali dug a clot of clothes from the drawers and went to the bathroom.
    "Going to take a shower, Mama?"
    Cali mumbled something and closed the door. She missed the light switch and, in the dark, kicked the toilet. Pain seared her big toe, shooting over the top of her foot. She found the light and half a toenail on the floor, still covered with chipped orange polish from the last time Avery painted them.
    Blood bubbled on the exposed nail bed.
    She quickly ran the shower, undressed and stepped in to wash off the dirt, to wash away the emotions, to clean her mind. The steamy water covered the sobs hiccupping in her throat. Blood washed in diluted rivulets to the drain. Cali wondered how many of those red platelets were biomites just imitating blood. How much of that is me?
    She reached out and hit the light switch.
    Showered in the dark.
     
    "Stop jumping."
    "Yes, Mama." Avery climbed off the bed nearest the window. "Do you feel better?"
    Cali brushed her teeth again, decided to wear the robe instead of getting dressed. She found a Band-aid at the bottom of her bag and wrapped her toe. Avery was standing on the window frame, arms out, palms pressed against the glass. Cali cleaned the blood off the bathroom floor and retrieved the brittle toenail—that was the second time she'd cracked a nail in a week—before Avery saw it. Blood creeped her out, made her lose her breath.
    "Everything's so biiig ," Avery announced, smudging the glass with her lips. "The people look like ants."
    Cali smiled. That's what she said when she was a little girl and her dad brought them along on a business trip and took her to the top of what was called the Sears Tower. She remembered her stomach lurching and the cars looked like toys.
    "I want to spit." Avery had a very big smile. "What do you think would happen if we spit, Mama?"
    "You'd get in trouble."
    "No one would know it was us. There's like a million windows on this building, Mama. No one would know."
    "How are you going to get the window open?"
    Avery examined the glass. She ran her fingers along the edges. "How come it won't open?"
    "They don't want anyone falling out."
    "Oh, my." Avery covered her mouth, her eyes wide but smiling. "What would it feel like to fall?"
    Cali wondered the same thing. What would it feel like?
    Would she feel anything in her empty stomach? Would she feel alive, for once? Or would it bring relief?
     
    "I'm hungry." Avery stumbled into the office area of the suite. "When are we going to eat?"
    Cali was still in her robe. There were two tablets and a laptop open and running on the desk. CNN was on the TV. She slouched in the chair, head resting on the back.
    "You want to call up room service?"
    "Yes!" Avery leaped and clapped. She scuttled into the bedroom and picked up the phone.
    Cali kept an eye on her screens. The lights were off. The room shimmered data blue. CNN might pick up the story she was waiting for, but she knew she'd see it on her company's—BioMed—news feed first. She logged on with an encrypted connection and watched story after story of anything biomite-related scroll down the