It took me about half an hour but I managed to get a fire going after digging a hole in the snow, right down to the frozen dirt. I made sure it would last and then walked back to the tunnel, still finding it hard to make that initial step into the darkness. Like the moment my feet touched the shadows, I would be pulled into a nightmare again.
I convinced them to come with me, reluctant to explain until we got there. They dressed up in their snowsuits and followed me out into the cold. Confused faces looked bluish against the white. I was starting to feel a bit unsure myself. It seemed like a good idea before. Now I wasn’t really sure what I would say, and whether it would do any good.
As we walked, I kicked the snow off some low-lying shrubs and pulled off the leaves. I snapped off some of the branches and showed them to Orry. “This is a rhododendron.” I held the straggly, wooden branch in front of his face. His eyes blinked as drips of cold water splashed on his face. Joseph looked amused but he held his tongue. Ignoring him, I continued. “I know it doesn’t look like much but in late summer to autumn it will have a beautiful, delicate, papery flower. It could be pink or red or even purple…” Joseph took the twig out of my hand, his eyes twinkling.
“Eat or don’t eat?” he said. The words filled me with equal parts joy and sadness. I felt tears come to my eyes.
“Don’t eat,” I said quietly, blushing in the cold.
We walked towards the orange glow of the fire and everyone stood around it, not wanting to sit in the wet snow. We gathered up some more firewood and threw it on until we could feel decent heat radiating from it.
Apella’s face was sorrowful, but at least it had some color to it, although that could have been from the fire. Now everyone was looking to me expectantly, asking me with their eyes what the hell we were doing here.
Softly and very unsure of myself, I said, “I wanted us to say goodbye.” They looked puzzled. “Um, not to each other, but to this, to what we have been through, sort of like a memorial for our journey along the Great Siberian Railway,” I finished with a flourish. I could feel tears coming quite fast. I hadn’t realized until now how much I had missed being out here, how even though we were running, even though we’d suffered a great deal, parts of our journey were some of the best times of my life.
I moved to the fire and threw on a branch. “For everything I have learned about myself…”
It was a weird thing to do and I was embarrassed but I felt we had to give weight to it. I didn’t subscribe to the Survivors’ philosophy. It was ok to feel sad, to feel loss, and to acknowledge those experiences.
Alexei stepped forward and threw some snow on the fire. It sizzled and left a blackened spot that was quickly engulfed with flame. “To the sacrifices and to the friends we’ve made… Um, also to the knowledge we have gained.”
I rolled my eyes.
I took the knife and moved towards Deshi. He looked wary at first. I held up a curl of Hessa’s hair. Deshi nodded. I cut the little, springy curl from the boy’s head as gently as I could. I gripped it tightly in my fist before throwing it into the fire. “Clara. I miss you so much, I…” Overcome with sadness, I couldn’t finish.
Joseph stepped in. “Clara, you were wiser and stronger than the rest of us put together. We will never forget you. You wouldn’t let us.”
Deshi rolled his eyes. I knew he thought this was a bit stupid but he surprised us all with what he said, “To love. Love lost and love found. I don’t think any of us thought we were as strong as this. And I think, now, together, we can do anything.”
Apella was a bit shaky but looked at each and every one of us. “To our family. I never thought it would turn out like this but I’m so very glad it did.” She looked at her feet and muttered, “I love you all.” I took her hand and squeezed.
Joseph broke the reverie. I’m glad he did before we all took hands and started singing or something.
“To those damn hinges! You know, it took me ages to find them and work them out of that window,” he said.
I jerked my head up to stare at him, disbelieving. “Window? Are you serious?” I asked.
He took a step back, hands up in the air. “I couldn’t get them out of the door. Why does it matter?”
“How big were they?” I asked.
He held up his hands awkwardly, while cradling Orry, leaving a tiny space between them. He looked totally confused. “Why?”
The ridiculousness of it could have sent me spiraling into depression. Instead, I smacked his hand and let out the biggest, heartiest laugh. Bending over, I could barely catch my breath. I heard Deshi mutter over my own hysterics, “That’s it. She’s lost it.”
Joseph bent down to find my face. He swept my hair back to reveal my eyes, and when they connected with that beautiful green, the gold looked like it was sparking in the firelight. I calmed myself.
“What’s so funny?” Joseph asked, concerned.
“Oh God… They would have been way too small. They never would have held up the door.”
This news could have destroyed us.
I heard Apella cough and then a noise came out of her I had never heard before—a laugh. It tinkled and whispered, almost musical. When I looked at her, she covered her mouth and I could see her whole body shaking with laughter, tears in her eyes. Then they all started. We laughed and laughed. Alexei fell backwards and landed in the snow, which made us laugh even harder.
Maybe we would be ok. Just maybe.
The fire was dying and we watched the life drain away from it. The orange coals dulled to red and then black. The babies were sleeping and we were jumping up and down to keep warm. It was time to go back, to put our faith in the next part of our journey and see where it led us.
When we got back to the tunnel, everything was covered in black shadow. We must have looked strange with big smiles on our faces, eyes red and puffy like we had been crying for hours. Confident that our bond was now as strong as ever, we separated into different carriages for the long ride. Gus said we should be able to sleep provided we didn’t get chased, which wasn’t very reassuring. Joseph, Orry, and I were alone. Deshi, Hessa, Apella, and Alexei were in the carriage next to us. We could see them if we pulled up the blind of a small window behind our heads. I fed Orry and laid him in the capsule. It fit, just, across the seat. I yawned. I was tired, but also hungry, not having eaten since the morning that seemed a million years and as many miles away.
We were offered some food. Sandwiches, which were pretty ordinary, just dried meat and cheese. No fresh stuff. And some drinks in pretty red cans. These were something very different; I had never seen anything like them. Turning mine around in my hand, I observed it curiously.
Gwen grinned at me as she passed our carriage door. “Don’t shake it up.”
I traced my finger over the letters. It sounded like some nonsense language, ‘Coca Cola’. Joseph shrugged and we both opened our cans, which made an odd “pfft” noise. Inside the can, the liquid looked dark, like coffee, and it was sizzling. I was wary but Joseph took a swig without thinking, holding his chest and wiggling his nose. Oh God, they’ve poisoned him, I thought. He let out a huge burp and grinned. “It’s good, try it,” he said, taking another sip, this time more slowly.
“You’re disgusting!” I said in mock disdain.
I held the can under my nose. It didn’t smell bad—all it really smelled like was sugar. I took a small sip. The bubbles fizzed down my throat and some tingled in my nose. It wasn’t unpleasant but I’m not sure I enjoyed it either.
Joseph put his arm around me and I put my legs up on the bench seat. He looked down and chuckled.
“What?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“Nothing, it’s just you’re funny. So suspicious,” he said, copying my narrowed eyes and then opening them wide, letting them shine in all their beauty and drawing me in with that look. The only girl in the world look. “Funny, suspicious, and beautiful.”
“You’re an idiot,” I said, knocking him with my shoulder. I t
ook another swig, the taste improving on the second intake. A small fire was starting to smolder, and every time he looked at me like that, he was fanning the flames.
The carriage jolted and we were pulling out of the tunnel, heading towards what could be our new home. We slid silently away and I then understood why they called them spinners. We were encased in a bubble. Two bubbles actually. One that spun around, pushing us forward, and another that floated silently inside it. And that wasn’t even the most amazing part of this train.
It was hard not to feel cold even though the temperature was comfortable enough to wear just a t-shirt and jeans. The side walls of the spinner were transparent. The ends facing the other carriages were solid blue, but the ones revealing the view were so clear. Like we were floating, like we could reach through and touch the trees that leaned in so close some branches slapped the sides. It was dark, but you could still see light bouncing off the snow. I couldn’t help but gasp. And then shiver from the imagined cold.
I snuggled in closer, breathing in Joseph’s scent, feeling his chest rise and fall under my head. Slowly sipping my drink, and feeling it pull sleep out from under me.
I flipped my head up and looked at him so his features were upside down. “Do you think we’re safe?” I asked, knowing full well what he would say, but needing the reassurance anyway.
“Yes, I really do,” he said confidently. The words vibrating through his chest were so comforting, I almost believed him.
“I hope you’re right.” Maybe this was what he saw in me. I provided the counter weight to his over-trustfulness.
I tried to close my eyes but they wouldn’t comply. The brown liquid was swimming in my stomach and fizzing in my brain, but I didn’t feel like talking anymore.
I turned around to face him. His eyelids were fluttering. The drink seemed to have little effect on him. On both sides the world was buzzing and falling away. The spinner was moving so fast it made me feel dizzy. Heavily wooded areas gave way to sparse expanses of pure white. I dreamed of what was under them, remembering the fields of flowers, the swaying high grass, dormant, not dead, just waiting for its opportunity to press down and spring forth.
My nose was millimeters away from his. I leaned in a fraction and they touched. He opened his eyes drowsily at first but they quickly brightened. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer. It was uncomfortable because the table hung over the bench, the harsh plastic pressing into my side, but I didn’t really care. I closed my eyes and found his lips. We needed to make up for the time we’d lost and we could do that now. My hands and feet were jittery. My mind darted all over the place. Questions I shouldn’t ask popped into my head like—did you dream when you were in the coma? What were you thinking when you were running towards the cabin? Why didn’t you tell me about the bite on your arm?
His hands were running up under my shirt and I was thinking about the coma? I needed to breathe. I pulled back.
“Sorry,” he said, eyes downcast. “Was that not ok?”
“It was fine. I’m just jittery from that brown stuff.” No one told me reunions would be this hard, but then no one told me much of anything. I was searching for some middle ground. We had already skipped several important steps. Now it seemed he couldn’t wait to skip some more.
He seemed hurt. “Are you ok?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s just… this is hard. Now that you’re not pregnant and the baby isn’t standing between us, literally. And Matt said I’m pretty much healed…” He looked down at the table, tracing patterns with his fingers. “It’s really hard to keep my hands off you.”
If it’s possible, my dark face went a shade of deep red. Well, that’s what it felt like anyway. What he said was thrilling, intoxicating, kind of scary, but in a good way. I put my hand over his and tried to still it.
I smiled at him. “Close your eyes,” I said. He pursed his lips but did so.
“Now what? Are you going to disappear?” he asked, clicking his fingers.
I moved towards him slowly, climbing towards his chest until our faces were level. He started moving his hands towards my hips. But I put them at his side. I could tell he was frustrated by the consternated look on his face but he kept them there. I started at his neck and made my way to his face slowly. When I got to his mouth, I parted his lips with my own and let my tongue run along the underside of the upper one. He exhaled slowly through his nose, like it hurt. Then we kissed properly, softly at first, but passion and want getting the better of us. To have this almost felt like too much. Like I didn’t deserve it.
Orry’s rustling interrupted us. Joseph sat up straight and went to attend to him immediately. I put my hands on his chest, holding him where he was. He looked at me, concerned. I put my finger to my lips. “Sh!”
Orry let out a small cry, turned his head, then his fingers found his mouth and he settled himself. We both relaxed, but Joseph looked upset. His hands clasped in front of him and his hair covered his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, bumping him with my shoulder.
Joseph shook his head. “It’s just that I’ve missed so much. I wish I’d been around to learn these things about him with you.”
I thought about it. If Joseph had been awake, if he had been with Orry from day one, I wonder how different things would have been. I knew the answer. It was a bizarre alternate universe we had ended up in but, in a way, I was glad it had happened like this. I needed time on my own with Orry or I may have never bonded with him. When everyone stepped out of the line, I was left with no choice. It was hard but somehow I got there. Well, was still getting there.
All I said was, “You didn’t miss much. You’ll catch up soon enough.”
We talked about everything he had missed with Orry. How he liked being wrapped tight. How if he was awake, he wanted to sit up. How he never seemed to have a pattern for feeding. Joseph listened and nodded with this awestruck look on his face. I realized maybe Deshi was right; I knew everything about my child. I had paid attention.
Barely thinking at all but needing to get at least one thing out the way, I blurted, “Hessa and Orry aren’t brothers.”
Joseph looked at me semi-surprised but mostly curious.
“Is this about Deshi’s little tantrum before?” he said unkindly.
I never thought I would be defending Deshi but I responded with, “It wasn’t a tantrum. I think he has a right to be upset. He needs to know that we support him looking after Hessa on his own, that we aren’t going to take him away.”
“I don’t know. I always thought we would all be together,” Joseph said.
I started to panic a little. I couldn’t look after both of them. Joseph seemed to notice and he stroked my head gently.
I took a deep breath. “Look. I know it’s hard for you, but while you were sleeping, life kept on going. Deshi cared for Hessa exclusively. I don’t think we could separate them even if we wanted to. They are each other’s family now.” He looked down and I could tell he was considering it carefully.
“All right. For now anyway, Hessa stays with Deshi.” That would have to be good enough. I suspected he could see the sense in it but didn’t want to give in all the way as a matter of principle.
After a few hours, I was still buzzing from the drink but I could see Joseph was getting sleepy. It had been a ridiculously long day. He had just begun to feel better, was allowed to have visitors, and then all hell broke loose. Now we were on our way to the Survivors’ settlement. The place and people Apella and Alexei had been searching for. The place neither of us thought existed. I was excited and nervous. There was so much we still didn’t understand about these people, but like it or not, we were survivors now too.
I still hadn’t answered his question about Apella and, thankfully, he didn’t bring it up again. Hopefully, we would have time to talk about it later.
After a while, I could hear him snoring. He had fallen asleep sitting up. I tried to move him but he was much too heavy. Asleep, it felt like he w
eighed two-hundred kilos. I shoved a jacket behind his head and snuggled into his chest, still shivering every time I looked out the window.
The world was racing by. I didn’t like it. I wanted to walk out into the snow, touch it, smell the pines, and let the cold air burn my lungs. Being behind a wall, even if it was clear, was too much like being enclosed, captured. Now that I had experienced real freedom, I’m not sure I would ever get used to walls again. Walls loomed, leaned in, and whispered nasty things in your ears. They imposed and imprisoned. I hated them.
I closed my eyes and inhaled. I would get back there soon. I had to. I was like a bendy, juvenile tree. Without the air and sunlight, I wouldn’t thrive. I would slowly kneel to the ground, my trunk cracked and splitting, and wither.
I took Joseph’s warm hand in my own; he murmured something but didn’t wake. I told myself, one thing at a time. Don’t want everything at once—don’t demand things from these people. They have helped you. Be kind and try to listen. But I knew I wouldn’t listen, not even to myself. I had to wait. Wait and see what this place was like before I made any decisions.
I hated waiting.
Too soon light was shining through my slitted eyes. Like a white-bone needle it was working its way between my lids and forcing them apart. It hurt. I was groggy and I’d barely slept at all. My teeth were furry. I cursed that brown stuff but then the memory of it made me crave more. That convinced me it was bad.
The Wall (The Woodlands) Page 9
