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“Now let's go do to them what they were ultimately going to do to us!” Hope cheered, throwing the washcloth that had been used as a gag to the corner of the room.
I held the rope that had originally bound her wrists and ankles, grinning. The poor people were cheering, and I was too. Caldwell was finally going to get what was coming to him. But something didn't feel right about it. Certainly, Caldwell was going to be the only one punished, right? I doubt Hope would have the will or the gall to do it to Caldwell himself, let alone anyone else. Now that she knew I was her mother, she now was made aware of her siblings that worked at UGC: Ryder and Isaac. Technically Theodore, too, but honestly Theodore wasn't too social about his love life. Let alone that it was with Isaac. That's a detail amongst the Pennywise family, and another choice few.
As everyone was heading out, chanting and yelling like an army to war, I called out, “I'll join a bit later. I… set my ankle wrong on the way down here. I'm not feeling quite right from it. But you all go ahead! I'll meet you in 20 at UGC.”
Harry, Becky, and Hope (the children I had amongst the rebels) looked back at me. Hope grinned at me, Harry and Becky grinned amongst themselves, happy to finally “snuff” someone.
“That's alright, Miss- mother. That's alright, mom. Yes, we'll meet you there. Now, c'mon, let's go!” Hope directed, leading the poor people out the sewers and into the world, Sue assisting Josephine from the caboose.
As soon as they made it out of my sight, my UGC-taught smile faded. If there's one thing I could thank Caldwell for, it was the ability to act happy under somewhat dire circumstances. I was just thankful the poor didn't kill me as soon as I made myself known to them. Deep down, I think I knew Harry and Becky wouldn't have let it happen. Sue, also, was a close friend of the Pennywise family and I would trust her.
I sighed, sitting in the chair Hope was previously bound to, tapping one foot and bouncing the knee of my opposite leg. I didn't wish to join them parading through town. I've never been a very dramatic person, not even in my–quote–“flapper” years, and leading a rebellion directly towards UGC? At least one person certainly would be taken and sent to Urinetown.
Working at UGC and the amenities meant I knew what Urinetown was the whole time. A shove off a railing towards the brutal, cold concrete below. I, myself, have seen some of the trips to Urinetown. I didn't see Bobby, but I could deduce what happened. I heard his last words vicariously through Sally. They were about Hope. My daughter. Bobby would have been a lovely son-in-law. Too late for that now.
“Tell her I love her… tell her I'll always be with her, and I will see her in a better place where hope is always new… ours was a short time… ours was a love that never bloomed… yet… in that love, there lives a brand new hope that's calling out to you…”
Growing increasingly more bored, I began whispering the words to myself. After ‘calling out to you', I began struggling to remember the words. I'm sure I could ask Little Sally later.
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“Alright, I'm finally bored enough.” I decided, standing up.
My legs, which had fallen asleep a long time ago, nearly buckled when the pressure was put on them, but I marched forward, towards the exit of the sewer.
I could see some of the poor's dirty footprints along the side. I don't see why any of them would be so opposed to getting their feet a little dirty. They certainly had no problem dirtying up my amenity, but noooo, this was different somehow.
“God, those animals…” I began, but stopped in my tracks as the already dirty looking water had a change in color. Red.
Why was the water red? I lifted my head and gasped loudly. Clasping my hands over my mouth, I ran over to the unmoving–hopefully not lifeless–body of Isaac Barrel, my son.
“No!- no no no no… Isaac? Isaac, speak to me. Let me know you're alive, damnit!” I wailed, getting on my knees in the filthy water.
Whatever. I had dealt with enough literal shit from the amenity, this was nothing.
I shook Isaac's shoulder, hoping to get any reaction out of him. Nothing. I took my glove off to check for a pulse, pressing two fingers to his mangled neck. Nothing.
My body folded. Pressing my forehead against the bloodied shoulder of Isaac, I sobbed emphatically, knowing no one would be around to hear anyways.
“But- y- you.. you were wi- were with Theodore..! You two… you two were inseparable! He couldn't have let… this…” I keened, cupping his blood-spattered face between my hands.
The rebels had gotten to him. I knew nothing else could have happened to him. I looked to my right and sure enough, the entrance or exit to the sewer was right there. They had got to him on their way out.
Somehow blocking the gore out of my senses, I hugged my son one last time before heatedly dashing up the ladder to the surface. I saw the gleaming tower over the hill and I began running towards it.
~~“Its call is soft and gentle, tame and fine… it's docile and benign… a pickle in the brine. What did I say? That isn't what I meant. I've lost my sense of scent. I fear my life is spent! No one is innocent…”~~
Newly, I had a bone to pick with Hope and the rebels. And Harry and Becky… how could they let this happen?
My thoughts raced, and I wasn't watching my feet, leading me to trip over some lump in my path. Crashing into the ground, I felt my jaw shift. Dislocated for sure, and a scrape going from my chin to my ear.
As I stood up, it was apparent that the scrape was the least of my problems, for in front of me were two other still bodies. Seymour Fipp and Martha Millenium.
Before the grief and keening set in, I was angry, shouting, “Hope Miriam Cladwell!”
I got down on my knees in front of Fipp first, and my first thought was “poor Ryder. He'll be devastated.”
I never had much of an opinion on either of the two UGC employees laying bloodied in front of me. However, Fipp appealed to me through Ryder. It pained me, truly, to see him dead on the ground. Once again, I checked to make sure he truly had left us. He certainly had. I sighed, squeezing the man's arm a little bit before moving over to Miss Millenium. Poor girl, the secretary of Caldwell. She never seemed to like her job, yet never seemed to vocalize it.
As a new tradition of sorts, I pressed two fingers to her neck, right below her ear, expecting nothing. As a shock, there was a faint thump coming from his neck. My eyes widened like an inflating balloon and I shook her. She was beaten heavily, and I knew she absolutely wouldn't make it much longer, but I had to talk to her.
“Miss Millennium? Martha? Wake up, can you hear me?” I fretted, needing to talk to the woman and needing details.
After what felt like a.. well, a millennium, her eyes opened very narrowly. Her breathing was shallow and cracking, but she most certainly was alive.
She jumped back a little when she first opened her eyes, “Ah!- oh, Miss… Pennywise? What are you…?”
“Yes, it's me. Are you…” my voice trailed off, knowing asking if she was okay would end up being futile, “What… happened?”
Miss Millennium opened her mouth, and I expected a response, but she threw up next to herself and away from me. I rubbed her shoulder a little bit, to which she weakly patted my hand in response.
“Ah… apologies, Penelope…” Martha groaned, turning back to me, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her blazer, “The poor rebels came… they shoved us to the ground and beat us… and Hope was with them…”
I grabbed her arm gently to try and keep her grip on reality, as I saw life beginning to fade from her eyes and voice.
Her eyes glossed over and her voice choked as she went on, “They kept… chanting… ‘we’re not sorry…’”
“Sh… you don't need to talk anymore. Just rest. Save the strength you have, Martha,” I instructed the maternal instinct taking over for my coworker.
I felt her muscle in the arm I was holding relax, and I took this as a sign she was calming down. However, I was very wrong. Her eyes fluttered shut as some blood dropped from her mouth. I checked her pulse again. It had disappeared. I cried again into the arm of Martha Millenium
~~“Tell all the people.. tell them the time is always now. Tell them to fight for what they know is right! I've lost my sense of sight.. and yet I see them…”~~
I stood up again after squeezing Martha's hand one last time. I walked closer to the Urinetown building, deciding to stop in an alleyway to hurl into a dumpster, having seen far too many dead bodies today. And ever.
After composing myself, I made it to the UGC building. Finally, that was everyone the poor had gotten to. Except I was wrong. I saw crimson red out of the corner of my eye. Against my better judgement, I turned and saw Benjamin Billeaux, UGC's head scientist.
“No…” I whispered, out of a mix of sadness and exasperation. How many people did the rebels really need to kill?
I leaned down, preparing to check for his pulse, but I gagged and saw I didn't need to. Benjamin was certainly dead. How do I know? His head was twisted in a whole new direction. He wasn't battered too much besides that, but I knew there was no way the scientist was still breathing. I wondered if maybe Harry felt any remorse after this kill. I rubbed the scientist's shoulder a bit, not in any attempt to wake him up, but to almost console him. Or maybe it was for myself. I pushed his hair back for a moment, nodded at him to pay respects, and stood up, shedding more tears.
I didn't know the man very well, but few human beings deserve to die, and as far as I've seen, he wasn't one of them. I sniffed and pushed the door to UGC open.
~~“I see them standing hand in hand. I see them standing hand in hand, cheek to cheek and gland to gland! There is still hope, I see it in this land…”~~
I got into the elevator lift and waited hotly for my stop. Hope and the rebels were not on my good side any longer, they had killed far too many. As the door opened to Cladwell's office, I noticed it was barren except for… him. And Ryder. Miraculously, the poor had not made it to the office yet. Perhaps they had made another detour.
Caldwell looked to me, and when he noticed it was me, he froze.
“Miss… Pennywise…? What is the meanin-” he began, but I pulled him out of his seat.
“No time. The rebels are coming and they are going to get your ass,” I explained quickly, beginning to hear the slamming of footsteps up the stairs, “Come on, you idiot! Get up and go!”
Caldwell was still frozen, maybe perplexed that I was trying to save him from his certain death. Ryder McQueen stood there, confused and ultimately not wanting to intervene.
I decided it was no use and stepped away from his desk as the crowd of rebels consumed me and I was made one of them. Caldwell's eyes sharpened from the almost naivety I had caused him from entering–you know how men are–and gestured for McQueen to stand aside.
“Fine then,” I said, voice shaking, “It's all over. We've come to take you away.”
Two poor people grabbed Caldwell's arms. He looked at both of them, then me, then Hope.
“Hope? Hope, darling, what is the meaning of this?” Caldwell panicked, struggling in the grasp of the surprisingly strong rebels.
I looked back at Hope, smiling widely. Deep down, I was quite proud. I never quite liked Caldwell. He was one of those people I suspected maybe he deserved to die. That's probably why he's lived this long. The bad die last, I suppose.
“I've joined the rebellion, daddy! And you? I'm afraid it's time you joined the ex-pat community.” Hope took a pause and rocked on her feet with an inhuman innocence, “In Urinetown.”
Everyone gasped. Except for Hope and I. I was not surprised that Caldwell's punishment for mass murder was meeting his Maker.
“Hope… Hope, darling, you don't understand. You need me more than you know!” Caldwell explained, beads of sweat starting to form on his face.
“The only thing we need now is freedom, daddy. For the people.” Hope crossed her arms and stood up straight.
“And love!” The youngest rebel, Little Sally, exclaimed.
Hope turned to Sally, patting her head a little bit, “Oh, yes. And love.”
Caldwell sighed, looking to all the rebels. In his mind, I knew what he was thinking. These were his final words. If he was going to somehow save himself, this was time to do it.
“Hope… you’re too young to understand it now, but there really are things more important than love. Food, water, and shelter for example,” Caldwell said, sighing.
Hope certainly was not too young to understand, the girl was 20, going on 21.
I stepped forward, mocking him, “And piles and piles of cash?”
Caldwell looked at me and sighed once more, “It wasn’t just cash, Miss Pennywise. It was an awful lot of cash.”
~~“If only…”~~
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
“I still love you,” Caldwell muttered.
~~“If only…”~~
“I know.”
~~“And then he expired.”~~