A Solid Plan and Anticipation
63. Ch8 Sc4 & 5
Hulle there, Sparks.
Okay, this is about to get serious. And for the record, this topic is not about Substack or you guys or anything to do with my writing here. It’s been a total pleasure and I intend to keep doing it, though the ideas here played a role in birthing this part of the story.
My question is, have you ever felt disappointment? I mean serious disappointment, not just once, but over and over by the same person, or about the same thing, until one day you realize that being disappointed is inevitable, and in order to spare yourself the pain when it comes around again, you just stop caring. You learn to distance yourself from whatever it is that’s disappointing you so that next time it won’t hurt as much. I’m sure nearly everyone can relate to this.
If you’ve been following my intros for a while, you should know by now that when I was a teen, my parents really wanted another baby and when all our other options petered out, we started fostering kids for the state. And I say ‘we’ here, because I was the ‘laat lammetjie’ born a few years later than my siblings, and also wanted little brothers and sisters to look after, so I eagerly helped out with a lot of the caring.
Some of those kids stayed for a few days, others for weeks, and there were even a few that we had from tiny babies till well after they started school. But the foster situation was always fostering, never full adoption, and eventually, each child had to move on to their forever family.
After the first hard lesson about forming a hard attachment to a temporary visitor, I had to learn to protect my heart a little and accept that each new visitor, was nothing more than that. Even the babies I helped mum to raise, were only visiting because they still had their own people out there. Even though we would’ve loved for them to stay. Even though we wished we could make them permanent members of our family. In the end, it just wasn’t up to us.
Now this might make me seem like a less-than-good person, and I’m sorry if that’s the impression it gives you, because I don’t think of myself that way, but after the third or fourth disappointment, (the kind where you’ve been hoping for so long that the bio-family would just let go and our adoption would go through and we’d finally be able to admit to ourselves that we actually love this kid,) you learn to stop letting yourself get attached from the start. Eventually, you learn to stop holding that hope in your heart at all, and let whatever happens, happen. It’s a hard lesson for a teen to learn.
Even while you’re cuddling the little body, warming up the formula, or scooping spoonfuls of puree into the little mouth, or putting on the swaddle after a bath… Even when you’re counting milestones, sitting up for the first time, those precious wobbling first steps, adorable misformed words, you’ve refused to let them crawl into your heart. You’ve already let them go because you know that they will go.
Whether it’s to the children’s home because there’s a permanent opening there and others are waiting for a safe place in your care. Or you have to send them off to their grandparents or aunts and uncles because it’s better for them to be with their own family. The visit was only ever temporary. They aren’t yours, they never were.
When the time comes, you smile and say goodbye, and after the first few times you convince yourself that it’s not so hard, even when they’re going straight back to their parents - the same ones who beat them, abused them, or neglected them, with the promise that it’ll be different this time, and you convince yourself that it doesn’t hurt because that’s all you can do. Fighting to keep something that was never yours only drags it out, and the kids suffer more with the uncertainty of back-and-forth.
I’ll let you figure out how this ties into Logan’s emotions regarding getting Elle back, and decide for yourself if he’s a callous brute for not wanting anything to do with Tom’s lead until it became a plan of action, rather than a game of waiting and false hope.
As for our story…
INDEX | Chapter 8 | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scenes 4 & 5 | Next Scene → Coming soon.
Previously: After months spent chasing a tenuous lead, everything has fallen into place, and Tom and Luke tell Logan that they know where Elle is, and his reaction is not what they expected, but that changes as soon as Luke mentions an opportunity to act.
It's crazy. I didn't want to question how Luke and Tom had managed it all, but the plan seemed solid. Luke had meticulously arranged every detail. By the time they told me what they were up to, everything was already set in motion.
With a few favors called in, Luke had made contact with a couple of old friends, including Rashak Grora, the Grismand, and Joel, who hadn't spoken to us since that disastrous birthday party. I have no idea why either of them would want to help us, but you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, right? Through them, we obtained blueprints of the buildings, satellite imagery of the surrounding area, a detailed map of their schedule, and comprehensive intelligence on the facility's operations.
Luke and Tom seem to have thought of everything. The particular Planetary Guard base we're interested in is home to around three hundred inmates, all suspected of galactic terrorism, which is why Rashak Grora is there. He's apparently become quite indispensable to the Colonel in charge and is working off his sentence through service. Thanks to our contacts, Luke was able to gather tentative proof that not all of the prisoners were as guilty as the PG wanted the galaxy to believe. He selected a few dangerous ones, suspicious enough for their potential escape to be plausible but mild enough for Luke to control for a while. These were the ones we would free. We want it to seem as if Elle is just along for the ride.
Meanwhile, Tom and I will leave on the fateful morning, making sure that we are seen boarding a luxury cruise liner that will take us to the other side of the world, and Luke will be seen attending a fundraising gala in support of the victims of galactic terrorism. It’s simple enough to seem elegant.
When Elle miraculously returns home after nearly three years away, we will be the elated family, too overjoyed to ask any questions. If the PG wants to make a big deal out of anything, we still have all the proof from our investigation. Luke can inform General Morgan that we won't reveal anything about the PG's questionable methods as long as they don't cause any trouble about Elle's return. That should be the end of that.
All that's left is to simulate and refine; we have three days.
It’s difficult to sleep. It’s been getting colder lately, maybe we will have snow.
Life has been different here the past few months. The way they are treating me has me confused a lot of the time. I’ve still got full privileges since Cathy came back, but things are weird with her now, I see the lies, and I’m over it. Since I gave in to my anger and stopped acting soft, I’ve been sparring like I used to back home. It’s a little boring. No one can touch me, and it’s always over too quickly.
Cathy says I’ve ended four careers. I’m not quite sure what she means by that other than that I hospitalized a bunch of soldiers which irritated me. The general is almost too nice, he grins while he watches, and makes sure there’s always someone else lined up in case I want more. I’m not sure what’s going on, but if they keep sending me weeklings to spar with I’m going to run out of partners soon. They upgraded the gym a week later and got me some bars like I had at Luke’s. I do know that I’m feeling a little better. My Penance seems to be under control.
I stare at the calendar in my tab. November twentieth. If my calculations are correct, I’m almost fourteen. My body has changed. It’s easier than ever to call up my raw energy, in fact, it’s harder not to, as if the energy has a mind of its own and wants out. It doesn’t help that Cathy and the General have been talking a lot about it lately, encouraging me to let loose. They seem to be encouraging my darker side at every turn these days, and I’m can’t deny that it feels good to let it out a little. I cuddle the fluffy unicorn Cathy gave me a few weeks ago and wonder if that’s what’s keeping me up. I’ve gotta stop thinking about this Cathy stuff.
It’s almost midnight. I should sleep. I lock the screen on my tab, slide it under my pillow, and huff out a sigh. I‘m tense. I can’t sleep like this. I close my eyes and focus on a relaxation technique James taught me, something to help when I was immobilized inside the energy cocoon.
Starting with my toes, I flex each muscle in turn and force it to relax. Working my way up I hear his voice calling out the names. Flexors, extensors, hallucis, digitorum, tibialis, soleus… This is boring. I’m too on edge. Throwing aside the covers, I shiver in my t-shirt and undies, consider grabbing my nightgown from the cupboard, and then decide against it. I lift my arms up and stretch, bending down to touch my toes. Start with forms then a few sets of pushups. I’ll soon be warm enough.
With my arms fully extended and my braid curled like a snake on the dark grey carpet, I look at the sky. The full moon shines in through my high little window, a neat little square on the floor to my right. It’s bright, illuminating dark, heavy-looking clouds. I hear an owl hooting in the trees nearby. This tension reminds me of the night before a mission. I can feel the sleeping energy signatures of the soldiers and inmates all around me. So peaceful and calm. I hear a low rumble in the sky, far off, but getting nearer, and even though nothing is moving out there, I find myself imagining some big disturbance is coming, enough to psyche myself out. Ridiculous. I close my eyes and block out every non-physical sense and fall into an easy rhythm as I try to forget for a while.
* * *
The General’s grandfather clock chimes in his faraway office. I can just make out the two dings. The guards will be changing soon. I bring my feet down and stand up straight, take a deep breath, thinking of climbing into bed and trying to catch the last three hours of sleep before my day starts. I wish I could just go to the gym right now. I’m bored, not tired, but the door is locked.
The General seems pleased with me these days. How much trouble would I really be in for breaking it open? I’ve just decided that it’d be worth whatever they throw at me, and am about to go over and melt the lock right out of the door when there’s a sudden commotion outside.
Next Time: Logan, Tom and Luke’s grand plan is put in motion, and Elle is faced with a difficult decision.
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
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and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
First of all, speaking from a lifetime of experience, the root cause of all disappointment is always associated with poorly set expectations. If you let yourself stop caring so you can avoid the inevitable heartbreak that follows, though, you sacrifice little pieces of yourself until there's nothing recognizable left. My point here is that you are far better off lowering expectations than you will ever be if you extinguish that inner Flame (see what I did there?)
I wrote the first part of this reply before I read your latest entry and I feel like, if you read into it enough, your post sort of helps me make my larger point- excellent job with this one!
Wow, thank you for sharing!