by Kelli Kimble
Chapter 9
I woke up to the song of a bird. It was close. I opened my eyes and found it perched on the tip of my boot, looking at me. It tweeted again and cocked its head. “Good morning, little guy,” I said. I didn’t want to disturb it, so I didn’t move, but even though I’d been happily immobile in the hammock all night, I quickly became uncomfortable. I held out my hand to try and coax it closer. It hopped from my boot to the edge of the hammock. “Wait,” I said.
“Shh,” a voice below me said. I turned so that I could look for the source. It was my dad.
“Dad,” I said. “It wasn’t a dream.” The bird flew away.
“Stop talking,” he said. He glanced out of the shelter in either direction. “The others here, they don’t like it when people talk out loud.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “It’s perfectly natural to use your voice. Why else would we have one?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say I agreed with it. They just don’t like it.”
I jumped down from the hammock, landing lightly on my feet. Mom was gone, as were the other two hammock occupants. “Animals communicate without talking out loud, too.”
He laughed, then doubled over in a coughing fit.
I banged him on the back like I’d seen my mom do. “Are you all right? That cough doesn’t sound good.”
“Just the leftovers from a winter cold,” he said, waving me away as he stood. “Stop fussing over me.”
“Where’s Mom?”
“Morning chores. She’ll be back soon. Are you hungry?” He led me out to the fire.
A woman was stirring a large pot of stew with a ladle. She scooped a big helping of it into a wooden bowl and held it out to me. “Breakfast?” she asked.
“Thank you. It looks delicious.” I accepted the bowl and tucked it against my stomach so that I could hold it with my left hand. I held out my right hand to shake hers. “I’m Nimisila,” I said.
“I know,” she said. Her eyes wandered to my father.
“Nim, this is Rori,” he said.
She met my hand and shook it, but her grip was loose and flimsy. Immediately, I didn’t like her. She pulled her hand from mine and smoothed her hair, clearly referencing the fact that I had not seen to any of my own personal hygiene that morning.
I ducked my head and turned back towards the shelter. “I’ll just go eat this, and then get ready for the day,” I said. Dad didn’t stop me. I retreated to the relative privacy of the shelter, looking out at the few people who were milling around the fire. Others were eating their breakfast, too, but mostly, they looked as if they’d been up for hours.
Just as I was finishing up my breakfast stew, Dad entered the shelter. He held out a hand for the bowl. “Are you done?” His tone seemed neutral enough, but judging by the set of his shoulders, he was upset about something. I handed him the bowl without comment. He turned and headed back out. “You should get some fresh clothes on and clean yourself up,” he said as he left. He tipped his head and looked at the sky. “Day’s getting on, you know.”
Scowling, I went out to the crude facilities – even though I didn’t have fresh clothes to put on, nor did I have any toiletry items. When I came out of the poop-hole box, someone was standing with his back to me. “Sorry,” I said, falling back into my regular habits. “I didn’t realize anyone was waiting.”
He turned. It was Thanos. He looked at me.
“Thanos,” I said. I rushed forward and put a hand on his arm. “I’m so glad to see you; I thought you’d been crushed by the rocks.”
“I’m fine,” he said. His face was neutral, and he glanced down at my hand.
I withdrew it, feeling self-conscious. I was glad to see he was okay, but that was it. “The, uh, cave dwellers let you go? You gave them what they wanted?”
He shrugged. “They didn’t want me,” he said.
“What did they want?”
“You.” He stepped away from me, towards the shelters, downwind from the poop-hole. “Is that . . . did you find my father?”
Embarrassment washed over me. I’d been so wrapped up in finding my own parents that I had forgotten about Thanos’ father. I turned so that he couldn’t see the pink crawling up my face. “Um, I found my parents,” I said. “Let’s go see if they can take us to your dad.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Can you take me to them now?”
I started walking back towards the shelters. He trailed behind me. “It’s this way,” I said. “My mom is off doing chores, I guess, but my dad was there. He was when I left, anyway.”
Thanos grunted in response. I glanced back at him a few times. He seemed stiff, and he kept his eyes on the ground in front of him as he walked.
I continued to the shelters and ducked into the one I’d slept in with my parents. Neither of them was there, but one of the others was. “Hi,” I said, holding out my hand to her. “We didn’t get the chance to meet yesterday. I’m Nimisila, Moira’s daughter.”
She was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. She had some reeds on the floor beside her, and she was working them into a basket shape in her lap. She wiped a palm on her pants, and then accepted my handshake – though hers, too, was limp and clammy. “Hello,” she said. Her eyes flicked to Thanos.
“And this is my friend, Thanos.”
She nodded at Thanos, who didn’t approach her. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. “Yeah, hi,” he said.
The woman went back to her basket-weaving, apparently done with niceties.
“Do you know where either of my parents are?” I asked. “I’m looking for them.”
She shrugged and glanced out at the fire. Someone was standing in front of it, stirring something in a big pot. Their back was to us, but it wasn’t my mother. “They’re around,” she said. She lifted the basket reeds in her hands. “Everyone else is doing their chores right now.”
“Yes, well, I’d like to help,” I said. Thanos was studying the lowest hammock, alternating between swinging it and inspecting the rope used to make it. “We both would. Right, Thanos?”
“Sure,” he said, not looking up from the hammock.
Her face scrunched as she thought about it. “Why don’t you go collect some firewood? There should be an ax over by the fire.”
“You mean, you want us to chop firewood? Or just collect firewood?” I asked. It didn’t seem like picking up dead branches required the use of an ax.
She gestured towards the basket in her lap. “I’m kind of busy right now; I don’t really have time to show you how to get firewood.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I can see you’re busy. Come on, Thanos. Let’s go get some firewood.” I did my best not to stomp as we exited the shelter and went to the fire. She hadn’t even bothered to tell us her name when I introduced myself. Maybe living out here away from the city makes their manners rusty, I thought to myself.
There were a number of axes and a splitting wedge sitting near the fire. I collected two axes and a wedge, handing one of the axes to Thanos. He lifted it and absently leaned it against his shoulder, then looked at me blankly.
“Did the cave dwellers do something to you?” I asked. “You seem kind of quiet.”
“They only talked,” he said. “They were strange.”
I led him away from the fire and off towards some trees. I found a trail, and we went on our way.
◆◆◆
Later, we returned, each with a pile of wood stacked and floating ahead of us. When we emerged between the shelters and set the wood down in the designated area, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to stare.
“What?” Thanos said.
Mom rushed over to us. “I was worried about you. Where have you been?”
“Your . . . shelter-mate told us to go deal with the firewood.” I pointed to the woodpile. “So, we did.”
“We?”
“This is Thanos, Mom. Thanos, this is my mother, Moira.”
Mom eyeballed Thanos.
“
Mom? This is Thanos,” I repeated.
She shook her head. “I apologize; how rude of me. Hello, Thanos. A pleasure to meet you. Nimisila tells us you’re looking for your father.”
Thanos perked up. “Yes, I am looking for my father. Do you know where I can find him?”
“He went back to the city,” Mom replied. He should be back tomorrow or the day after, but you’re welcome to stay with us.”
For the first time, I noticed Thanos didn’t have his pack. He must have lost his, too. “That’s very kind of you,” he said. “I’d very much appreciate that.”
“You look tired. Why don’t I show you where you can lie down for a little while?” She guided him to the shelter.
I squatted by the fire and warmed my hands, watching as she pointed to the hammock that I’d slept in. He floated up into it as I had done, and I noticed an impressed expression pass over my mom’s face before she handed him the blanket. She stood looking up at him for a few moments more. I wondered what was passing between them.
She turned and moved back towards me. Feeling guilty for watching, I quickly shifted my gaze down to my hands and rubbed them together. It was a chilly day, colder than yesterday.
Mom squatted beside me. “He seems like a nice young man,” she said.
“Don’t let his looks fool you, Mom. He kidnapped me from the village I was staying in, and he left a bunch of helpless people to die of exposure.”
“I didn’t mean to imply he’s more to you than a . . . travelling companion.”
“He’s crazy,” I said. “His abilities far exceed mine. He’s probably listening in right now.”
She shrugged. “We’re not sharing any deep family secrets,” she said. “Let him listen.”
“That’s not the point. He has no boundaries, no sense of privacy.”
“If he isn’t special to you, who is? Do you have someone?”
I sighed. The events of the past few days had kept my mind in a whirl. I hadn’t had a moment to think of Red and how much I missed him.
“There is someone, then,” she said. “You don’t need to hide him from me.”
“He’s back where I came from. Near the coast. He was building me a house, and I was going to settle with him. Start a family.” I picked at imaginary lint on my sleeve. “I’ll likely never see him again. Even if I went back there, he wouldn’t want anything to do with the woman who abandoned the people he cares about.”
“But what could you have done for them?”
“I’m . . . I was . . . their protector. Nobody else there had abilities. Only me.”
She nodded. “It sounds to me like you don’t understand how this ability thing works. It’s a gift, yes. It can provide a good benefit to a group of people, but it doesn’t make you the only one who can ever manage. You can’t always be the shield. Sometimes, others have to figure out how to do it on their own.”
Convinced she didn’t understand, I stood. “Is Thanos’ dad really back in the city?”
“That’s where he says he goes,” she said. “He usually returns with more refugees, so I can’t imagine he’s going anywhere else.”
I glanced around at the others, hanging around the shelters and near the fire. They were no longer openly staring at me, but I could feel their curiosity about me – about us. Rori, the woman whom Dad had introduced to me at breakfast, was back at the pot, stirring. I watched as she scooped up a handful of vegetables and threw them in.
“People here seem curious about me,” I said, “but none of them seem to actually want to know me. Dad introduced me to that woman this morning,” I inclined my head towards Rori. “She wasn’t particularly friendly.”
“Oh, well. Rori’s like that. Not really a people-person.”
“And what about the woman from your shelter? The one who sleeps in the lower hammock? She’s not a people person, either?”
“Nim. Don’t take it so personally,” she said. “These people have been through a lot. You’re from the city. You arrived under mysterious circumstances. They don’t know if they can trust you. You could be a searcher, for all they know.”
“How are the circumstances mysterious? It wasn’t my fault the canyon wall collapsed. Arisa found me, and she brought me here. I was miles away, looking for you in the canyon, where Orthos said you would be.”
“They don’t know any of that.” She stood beside me and put a hand on my shoulder. “They’ll come around to you. To Thanos, too, once Orthos gets back. They just need some reassurance, that’s all. Okay? Everything will be fine.”
I nodded, but I had the distinct feeling everything was not going to be fine. Something about this whole situation felt off. “Where is Arisa, anyway? I’d like to catch up with her. Get to know her.”
“She went back to her post. She’ll be home when Orthos comes home.”
“She’s watching for him? For Orthos?”
“No. She’s watching the cave dwellers – that’s how she found you – but Orthos will pick her up and bring her home when he’s on his way back. She’s there, watching to make sure he can get through.”
So far, nothing anyone had said about the cave dwellers made any sense. “I don’t get it. Why does anyone have to ‘get through’ the cave dwellers? They let Thanos go the very next morning, and he says they didn’t do anything to him. So, what do they want? Why would they stop anybody?”
Before she could answer, my father came over. “Who’s ready for some lunch?” he asked.
“I’m starving,” Mom said.
Like me, she knew what it was like to be near-starving. Back when we’d lived in the city, my parents didn’t have good jobs. Without good jobs, they didn’t have a lot to trade for food, and we often went hungry or ate what most people would consider garbage. I recognized in my mom the same fear that I’d experienced every day since I’d escaped the city – the fear that my next meal wasn’t going to come about. I’d come to realize the fear of starving was a very good motivator.
They walked together towards Rori, not even really paying attention to whether I followed, but I certainly wasn’t going to turn down a well-cooked meal, so I fell into step behind them.
Rori greeted both my parents, and as they stepped aside, I reached out for the next bowl.
“Hello, Rori,” I said. She handed me the bowl and nodded, already looking behind me to serve the next person – only there was nobody behind me. Annoyed, I continued to try and engage her in a friendly tone. “So, this looks great. What’s in it?” I made a show of lifting it to my nose and breathing it in. “Smells great, too.”
“Vegetables and rabbit,” she said.
I tipped the bowl to my mouth, daintily sipping a mouthful. “Wow,” I said. “This is more like a feast than something as humble as rabbit and vegetables,” I said, pouring on the flattery.
But she didn’t bite. She looked at me with flat eyes. “Glad you like it. You’re holding up the line.”
I glanced behind me. The line was still ten paces away, but hoping to further stroke her ego, I began moving aside. “I wouldn’t want to stop anyone from getting some of this. Thanks so much,” I said.
Then, I trotted over to my parents, squatting near the fire and taking the final slurps from their bowls. My dad took his finger and slid it around the inside of the bowl, then licked his finger. I watched in near-horror as my mom did the same.
My mom caught my expression. “We don’t waste food here, Nim. None of it. Nothing ever goes to waste.”
I nodded. “Of course. That’s smart. Resources are limited. I get it.” I drank from my bowl, doing my best to draw it out and savor the feel and taste of the food. It was something Red had taught me; the enjoyment could be almost as filling as the act of eating. On more than one occasion, he’d taken me hiking in the woods to find berries, mushrooms, and nuts. We’d consumed them in tiny nibbles, as if they were a delicacy.
When I’d drunk all I could from my bowl, I reluctantly wiped my bowl clean with my finger and licked it. I tried n
ot to think about the dirt under my fingernails or whether I’d touched anything particularly gross since the last time I’d washed. My parents watched my discomfort and sniggered together. This ended with my dad coughing, and my mom walloping him on the back until he stopped.
My cheeks heated at the grandiosity of their display. Glancing around, nobody else seemed to take notice. I was glad he wasn’t choking; apparently, nobody would be willing to help him if he were in trouble. Or maybe, he did it so frequently, people no longer noticed.
Closing my eyes, I stretched my thoughts out to him. I pushed inside and found myself being swept along through his blood vessels. I pulled back slightly and focused on scanning his chest. Unfortunately, I didn’t really know what I was looking for. He’d said he was getting over an illness. Could there be fluid collecting in his lungs? Or something darker, like a tumor?
The thought of a tumor snapped my eyes open. My parents were standing still, my mom still holding one arm to dad’s back, while steadying him in front with her other. “What were you doing?” my mom said.
“Just . . . checking. I wanted to see if Dad is okay.”
Dad winced.
She dropped her arms from him and took a step towards me. She held up a hand to stop me. “He’s fine,” she said. “There’s no need to do whatever it is you think you can do. He’s fine.”
“I’m sure he is,” I said, backing away. “I was just trying to help.”
We were only talking to each other, but I suddenly became aware of the intense interest of those around us. We must have been broadcasting our tension loud and clear with our body language. When I turned my head away from my mother, it broke the spell. Everyone turned back to what they were doing in the exaggerated way people did when caught eavesdropping.
“This isn’t the time or place to have a conversation like this,” my dad said.
Thanos picked that moment to emerge from the shelter. He came over to us and clapped a hand on my shoulder. He’d snuck up from behind me, and I jumped. “Oops, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I tried to sense him behind me, even though I already knew he was there. He still felt like blank space. Angry, I turned and got in his face. “Why are you hiding from me again?”
