Addy saved me.
I needed something to do. And she gave me a sense of purpose. Or maybe it was just distraction. Whatever it was, it stopped me from going crazy. The nightmares still came but I felt like I could handle them. The week went by more smoothly because of her.
Her presence also gave me hope. If she were allowed to exist, if she had a relationship with her grandchild, maybe things were different here. In the Woodlands, old people were just shoved to the edges and I don’t even know what happened to them if they didn’t have the common decency to die quietly. Addy was loud, opinionated, and people listened to her. It was strange, but a welcome strange.
On a day when there was more silence between us than talking, I tapped on the glass lightly to get Addy’s attention. There was something I wanted to ask her but I wasn’t sure how to phrase it. It bothered me that I didn’t know enough about the elderly. I wanted to know what it felt like to live on the edge of death.
Addy’s head was hooked under and she was snoozing in her chair again. “Addy, Addy,” I said, between tapping. She snorted awake, sounding like an ailing lawnmower. “Goodness! What, dear?”
“Can I ask you something, er, personal?”
She narrowed her eyes a little but she had a smile on her face. “Depends on what it is.”
“Right.” I looked at the floor and breathed in. “Um… are you afraid to die? I mean, since you’re so old?” Joseph had his back to us against the glass wall; it shook from his sniggering shoulders.
Addy’s eyebrows rose but she looked at me kindly. “I don’t want to die, dear, but I accept that I will. What about you, are you afraid to die?”
I thought about it. I hadn’t really considered the reality of death. But when I was in Pau, I always felt that my life would be a short one. Like the fireworks they released over the Great Wall at New Years, my life would be a brilliant flash of sparks and color but would flame out all too quickly. Now I didn’t know. Orry and Joseph had changed the way I thought about my life.
“Hello in there… I’m dying of boredom over here,” Addy said, waving her hands in front of my eyes.
“Sorry,” I replied, snapping out of my thoughts. “I think, no. I’m not afraid to die. What’s the point of being afraid of something inevitable? But I really want to live for as long as I can.”
Her eyes reached me, grey but warm. So compassionate. “That’s good. Very good.”
I woke up to something shaking me. Rough hands that felt like they were made of spun, dried grass, light with no substance to them. I batted them away, unwilling to give up sleep. “Rosa, wake up,” a raspy voice urged.
Addy.
I opened my eyes and her face was two inches from my own. I jumped.
“Your face is way too scary for this time of the morning,” I yawned.
She was sitting on the edge of the bed, scowling. She smacked my leg but it was like she’d tapped me with a straw broom. I barely felt it.
“Didn’t your mother teach you how to speak to your elders?”
I cringed. “Is that a trick question? Or is that just one of your silly sayings?” I hated it when she brought up family. And she always did. She was like a dog with a bone. She couldn’t let it go… unless she was just forgetful. It was hard to tell sometimes.
She patted my leg again and smiled. I tried to shake off my morning crankiness. I needed to remember I actually liked this woman and I shouldn’t be so rude.
“Is she always like this in the mornings?” Addy directed at Joseph.
“What?” he smirked. “Beautiful, captivating, beguiling?”
I blushed and then snapped, “I’m pretty sure those are all words for the same thing. You’ve been reading too many romantic novels.”
Addy clucked her tongue and grabbed my face with her crinkled hands. “Today you get out.”
“Really?” I pulled myself up straight. I couldn’t believe it. The last week had flown by.
She nodded, her light grey eyes sparkling. Even if she was ancient, I felt like we were so similar. Cut from the same cloth, is what she would say. I pulled her to me in a tight embrace. Unidentifiable sweet smells emanated from her clothing and it was like squeezing a bird, her thin bones, her body, was so delicate I was afraid I would crush her.
I released her and she clapped her hands impatiently. “You all need to get dressed and get ready to face them. Today you get to meet the rest of us.”
Matthew and a few other doctors came up to the doorway, which was now propped open. I was torn, wanting to run to Joseph but also wanting to grab Orry. Joseph made the decision for me, slamming through his door and coming towards me in what looked like painfully restrained steps. Addy shuffled out of the room so fast it was like she’d grown wheels in her feet.
After two weeks of staring at each other through glass, it was all I could do not to jump on him and knock him over. But I tried to stand still, aware of other people watching us. Joseph didn’t seem to care. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me to his chest. I threw my arms around his neck and breathed in him in. Golden cymbals clashed around my ears, blocking out any other noise, any other distraction. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my face up to meet his. It was too easy for him to hold me up. Like it was no effort at all.
It’s funny how every kiss seems to have a slightly different meaning, a different intention behind it. This kiss was more desire than any others before it. Lips were hungry. Tastes magnified. Not just warmth, heat. If we were alone in that moment, it would have led to something much more. But someone coughed loudly. Deshi.
Joseph whispered into my ear, his warm breath sending tiny shivers through my body. “Do I have to let you go?”
I only managed, “Mhmm,” and a nod.
He let me down but kept a hold of my waist.
“All right, you two, that was disgusting,” Deshi laughed. “Can we get ready to go now?”
Reluctantly, I let Joseph go but it was like he took half my beating heart with him. The feeling scared me a little. The want to be so close to him, as close as I could possibly be, was powerful. Overwhelming.
Addy agreed with Deshi, muttering something about ‘a time and a place’. She brought Orry in to see me while Joseph got dressed. It felt so good to hold my son again. He felt heavier, his eyes brighter. How did he change so fast?
Once everyone was dressed, we lined up and Matthew gave us a talk. Addy busied herself packing up her bag, giving me a wink every now and then. I sidled up to Apella and gave her a gentle squeeze. She managed a weak smile. We were all nervous, none of us knowing what to expect.
“Ok, everyone. From here, we will go to the meeting hall. It’s nothing special, but everyone wants to meet you,” Matthew said.
This filled me with dread. I pictured an angry mob armed with Coca Cola cans ready to aim at our heads. We were responsible for the deaths of several of their community members. I didn’t know how the others were feeling, except for Joseph. I sensed he was thinking of nothing else other than being alone with me; it was the dominant feeling in my mind. He kept his hand around my waist, slipping it under my shirt so he could touch my skin as we walked. It was driving me crazy and I wanted to swat him off but at the same time couldn’t bear the idea of losing that connection. As we neared the glass doors of the ward, Matthew grabbed the back of my shirt and gently pulled me backwards towards the hallway. I turned towards him, irritation radiating from my eyes.
“Can I speak with you?” The others were walking on ahead, only Joseph hung in the doorway waiting for me.
“What do you want?” I said tersely.
Matthew grabbed my wrist and opened my fingers, pressing something into my palm. My fingers closed around four small, plastic wheels, pills radiated around the outer edges, the days of the week in tiny writing below them. I looked at Matthew confused.
“Am I sick? Did the tests show something?” I whispered. Joseph caught the concern in my face and started towards me.
Matthew la
ughed quietly, “No, no. It’s just… I don’t know what your plans are in terms of adding to your family but if you take these every day on the day specified, well, you can control when you want to have another baby.”
My face bloomed crimson. Who knew such a thing existed? “You mean I won’t get pregnant?”
Matthew nodded. I closed my hand around the discs and slipped them into my pocket. This really was a strange new world. Joseph and I weren’t even close to having to worry about another baby, but a choice would be nice.
“Thank you,” I managed.
I caught up with Joseph and we were ushered down a hall and then… sunlight. It was cold but the air had the promise of spring in it. I stood and breathed it in. My lungs danced, reaching out to grab more, more air. My eyes instantly skimmed back towards the Great Wall, back to the simple, wooden shacks. They were there. I hadn’t imagined them.
When I returned my eyes to what was in front of us, I could see the city was just as Matthew had described the Survivors’ whole lifestyle—pieced together.
The roads were narrow and grey asphalt. It was cracked and you could see the well-worn paths people used to avoid the bigger potholes. There were spinner tracks running down the main street. The buildings looked old, ancient, and if they were designed for a specific purpose, they had definitely been repurposed. It was a cheery, hopeful kind of construction. If something was broken, it had been fixed or propped up with new timber or bits of shiny-colored tin, giving everything a half-finished, half-old, half-new look. No space was wasted. It was neat, tidy, and absolutely ramshackle. A patchwork city.
“Since the sun is out, we’ll walk,” Matthew announced. We followed him and he pointed out different things as we went. “This town used to be a huge tourist destination. People came from all over the world to see the Wall.” Why would anyone want to visit a wall? “They had masses of restaurants, shopping centers, movie theaters…” I couldn’t keep up with him… every second word was foreign and had little or no meaning to me.
The whole town sloped downwards like it was tilted towards something. Up ahead, people were walking downhill, dressed in all manner of clothing. They were coming from every direction, heading toward a big, stone-fronted building with red and gold paint peeling off its ornate, carved-stone frames. It had a large verandah that was sagging at one end. Wooden and steel scaffolding held up the worst side. Blackened plastic casings that once held light bulbs lined every straight edge of the structure.
As we walked, we could see most of the buildings in this area were once shop fronts. Some were still used as such but most had been turned into homes. Colorful, painted flowerboxes filled with dirt hung out of windows ready for warmer weather. I imagined flowers spilling over the edges, dripping with vibrant petals. Brightly sewn curtains hung in the windows. I peered through the panes and saw a small display of miniature models of the Great Wall behind us, some carved from wood, some set in plaster, all with little, metal placards glinting in the sunlight that read: The Great Wall of China.
This place was a standing contradiction. Amazing technology set amongst a self-made mishmash. It boggled the mind. I was in awe of what they had managed to do.
“We’ll sneak in the back. This used to be an old movie theater. It seats about four hundred. The rest will probably be standing.”
The rest? I stifled an eek.
We stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. None of us knew what the words ‘movie’ or ‘theater’ meant. I was aching to find out though.
We ducked into a side street before the theater and Matthew guided us through a door, into a dark space. I walked straight into heavy material, hanging from a very high ceiling. It was shedding bits of red fluff and smelled like dust. Velvet. Very extravagant for curtains, my mother would have said. All the while, Joseph kept his hand on me, leaning in to smell my hair. When we stopped, he placed his chin on my head, making it hard to think of anything other than unbuttoning his shirt and laying my head on his muscled chest. I sighed but it came out more like a grunt as I pushed the air out and forced myself to concentrate.
We could all hear the voices. They melded together into one collective hum. Odd smells of rancid butter and heat from too many bodies wafted through the air. Exchanging glances nervously, we shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, like we were stretching for a race. The unfamiliarity of it, the noise, and the oppressive heat hovered over us like a starter gun poised to fire. We were used to running. It was our first instinct.
Matthew looked at us sympathetically. “It’s all right. They just want to meet you.”
Oh God. I really didn’t want to go first.
Joseph took a deep breath and spoke, his voice deep and calming, “Let’s all go out together.” Then he grinned and said, “And if they turn on us, we’ll throw Deshi to them and run like hell!”
Deshi punched him lightly. “Nice.”
“No one’s going to turn on you. They’re just curious,” Matthew said. He strolled through the curtains and out onto a dark, wooden stage. I peered after him. My heart pounded in my chest as I saw at least a few hundred pairs of eyes following him as he walked to the center. The voices settled down and they waited for him to speak. “Ok, they’re here. Be nice…” He beckoned with his arm. The crowd started making noise again. Maybe they weren’t that interested in us anyway. Joseph walked out and Matthew introduced him, then Deshi, and Alexei. Apella was standing next to me holding Hessa, her feet stuck in the same glue as mine. Then those dried-up old hands started shoving me ineffectually. “Just get on with it, dear.” The crowd still hummed. Not really paying attention. Someone yelled out, confused, “I thought there were more?”
All right, I thought, one, two, three. I stepped out with Orry in my arms and dragged Apella with me.
I don’t know what I was expecting. Not this.
They looked impressed. People clapped and cheered. I recognized some faces. Gwen, Gus, Cal, all smiling, with admiring expressions everywhere.
I felt ridiculous standing there on show. I waved at the ones I knew and sat down on the stage, my legs dangling over the edge. I looked up at Matthew as if to say, What is this all about? He leaned down and whispered, “You’re the first escapees from the Woodlands. They’re impressed.”
People started approaching us, offering clothing, food, someone mentioned a vacant house they would help us fix up if we were interested. They also asked for help. Asked us what skills we had. A lot of people just wanted to touch Orry and Hessa, leaning over them cooing and fussing like they’d never seen a baby before. It was too much and I found my eyes tearing up. Kindness. Was this how people were supposed to behave?
Joseph was smiling but he looked tired. This was overwhelming, even for him. He held out his hand and I took it. Cal was staring at me again, looking back and forth between my face and our joined hands. I hoped it was a friendly stare but it made me feel uneasy.
The way they were all fussing over Orry and Hessa made me think. I scanned the crowd and could not pick out one child. Sometimes, I wished I had a notebook I could get out and jot down all the suspicious questions I had accumulated in my head. Where were all the children?
There was no time to ask. We found ourselves sucked into the crowd and carried outside on a wave of people. I looked back and could see Addy waving at me from the stage with a big grin on her face, her ruddy features becoming smaller and blurrier as the rush of people pulled us out on their tide.
My chest seized. No. We were letting ourselves be carried out on this current of strangers. I turned and battled my way back through the crowd. I wasn’t going to leave anyone else behind. Joseph was inadvertently pushing me forward with the heel of his hand so when I turned around, he pushed me in the chest. Face to face, I frowned at him.
“I’m going back to get Addy,” I said.
“Why?”
I ignored his question. It was too hard to explain. The others had stopped at a shop front that had been converted to a home. Red and
white poles decorated either side of the door and a picture of a man’s head floated over the entrance. These glimpses into the past had a bitter taste to them. The floating man with initials KFC, was probably dead, his dark-rimmed glasses and bowtie buried with him. They were inspecting it, I suppose, as a possible home.
I twisted my head to look at the sky, watching a black scribble of a bird lazily wind its way around in circles. I had longed to be free of them for so long but now the idea of us living apart frightened me. We had become each other’s safety and comfort, an annoyance but an anchor in a too-fast changing future. I kept pushing past the flow of foot traffic, making my way to the theater. Joseph sighed his Rosa sigh and came thumping after me. Addy, I could trust. I wanted her advice on what we should do.
When I got to the door, Addy was climbing carefully off the stage. I looked up at the red-velvet curtains. From here, they looked grander. I wondered about the people who had time to sit in these seats and watch a performance. It seemed lazy to me.
“What are you doing back here, girl?” Addy asked, raising her eyebrows.
“I… I want you to come with us. I didn’t want to leave you behind,” I said, not really sure why I came, just that I couldn’t turn my back and walk away from one more person.
“Oh, I’m fine, silly girl. I would have caught up to you eventually,” she replied, waving me away.
“I doubt it, the way you move,” I laughed.
She took my arm and we walked outside, very slowly. The others were still standing at the shop front. I approached them and asked what was happening. A small group of Survivors was still around us, including Cal.
The Survivors had been busy while we were in quarantine. They’d found us all possible places to live—two here, and one up the hill. It made me very uncomfortable that we were being helped so much. I got the sense we would be asked for something in return soon enough. It was their way.
A woman, who introduced herself as Odval, swept her long, brown hair behind her ears as she talked in dips and mumbles. She pointed out all the main rooms, the patchwork pieces of furniture salvaged from various places. Her eyes were warm, dark pools framed with short, dark lashes and her skin was wrinkled, though only around her eyes and mouth. She looked down at the babies and sighed, sweeping Hessa’s hair back gently with her finger. She emanated loss. I could tell, because it was same grief that sometimes steamed off my body in plumes. Where was her child? Did she lose one or just wished she had one? My mouth pursed as I thought. How did you even go about asking such a question?
The Wall (The Woodlands) Page 13
