Binds by Rebecca Espinoza Page B

wrong guy, and you got screwed for it. I don’t want your heart or your complete trust. I just need another hour of your time so I may shed some light on the darkness that has been your entire existence up to this point. Think of it as a gift, the gift of someone pulling your pretty little head out of your pretty little ass. If I were Reece, you’d probably have no problem with getting in the car. Maybe the issue is that you keep doling out trust to the wrong guys.”
    If it’s even possible, I push my face farther into his and hiss, “Just because you got to peek around inside of my head, uncover secret shit that no one has ever known, and watch my entire life like some goddamn movie in 3D, doesn’t give you the right to start psychoanalyzing me and telling me what I should or shouldn’t do. You know what I think you should do? Mind your own freaking business!” With that I open the car door, fling myself down on the seat and slam it shut again. I go to put my seat belt on and realize that I have closed the door on my jacket. I open it back up, straighten out the situation and slam the door again. I’m guessing the second slam wasn’t so impressive because I can hear Spencer chuckle as he comes around and gets in on his side. Asshole.

We drive for half an hour until we pass the welcome sign for the township of Canton. It’s a miniscule town way out past the suburbs of the city, one that I have never had reason to venture to until today. As we drive slowly down the main stretch of road, I stare wonderingly out of the window at what appears to be a modern day ghost town. The place is completely empty. No cars on the street or people walking around the heart of the town. We pass a corner pharmacy with closed signs and windows boarded over and a dog groomers, florist shop, and auto repair business that seem to have shared the same fate.
    We turn a corner and come upon a gated schoolyard. Spencer pulls up to the curb right alongside it and turns the ignition off. He sits in heavy silence for a moment, as if he’s collecting his thoughts. He’s taking deep breaths and staring at the school as if something about it is compelling his eyes to remain locked. I watch his pupils move back and forth with the motion of one of the swings on the playground, blowing with the breeze.
    The silence in the car and the silence of the town are immensely brash—it feels as though the whole population is hiding behind all of the buildings and trees, and at any moment they are all going to jump out and surprise us. As if this is all just some game. How does an entire community become a void? The questions are swirling around in my mind and on the tip of my tongue when Spencer begins to speak.
    “Four years ago, you probably would have seen children running around on this playground, you know. A Friday at noon, the whole yard would have been crazy with their activity.” He smiles as he says it, and it feels like he is talking to himself rather than to me. He continues to scan the playground as if he is still seeing the children he described playing tag and taking turns for the slide.
    “When Oberon won the first election, he did so by convincing the commons and even most of our own that he was going to bring a change to the country. It was badly needed at the time. You saw how desperately everyone was struggling four years ago; we all felt the fear that was out there. People heard Chancellor Brand speak with his waxy smiles and promises and saw his finger pointing here and there … spreading hate and disgust amongst everyone, making people believe that there were those among us in society who were the reason for the deficiencies in all of our lives. And people bought it.”
    As I look out at the playground again, I realize what Spencer is trying to say. This town must have been full of people who were taken in the reaping.
    “They were all criminals,” I infer. How can an entire town be a harbor for the lawless?
    Spencer lets out a