“Since when do you ever ask for permission to…?” Deshi started, but I was already walking slowly towards the double doors, feeling weightless and floaty from my mix of drugs. I hoped they would wear off soon.
Joseph stood to accompany me but I waved him off. “I’ll meet you out front,” I said.
I pushed open the door and slipped through, feeling a chill from within I couldn’t explain. Looking left and then right, I could see Matthew at the far end of the corridor walking away from me. I shouted out, but my voice was swallowed up by the long hallway. Its steep ceiling carried my crackly voice up into the rafters. It seemed wherever the Survivors lived, noise was absorbed. I wondered whether quietness was a valued quality in the people who used to live here before us. I snorted at the thought of my loud and unruly presence in such a society. Giving up on shouting, I padded after Matthew, my body dipping and swaying a little as I skidded along the shiny floor in my socks.
I was just about to call his name again when he stopped abruptly and entered a room. And for some reason, at that moment, I didn’t want him to see me. I stopped and hid behind a pillar until I heard the door swing shut.
Some things you just know. I hated to believe it but somehow being attacked linked me to him and if I were a spitting person, I would have spat on the floor at the thought of it. But as soon as Matthew stopped, I knew he was entering Cal’s room. And even though every inch of me wanted to scurry away from there like a cowardly mouse, I found myself being pulled to the door, my shadow dragging behind me kicking and screaming.
I peered in the window and there he was. Small, weak. The wire lattice set in the glass made him look, pleasingly, like he was imprisoned. He was hooked up to so many machines he looked like an octopus. He was facing Matthew, talking. The good doctor checked his pulse, adjusted the dripping bag above his bed, and started walking towards me. I tried to duck down quickly but my responses were so slow I found myself looking right in his baffled face.
Thankfully, he remained composed until he was out of the room.
“Rosa, what are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.
My face was loose; I felt like if I spoke, something would fall off. “I just wanted to see if you had organized the meeting?” I said meekly.
Matthew dipped his head and rubbed the crinkle between his eyebrows. The one I’m pretty sure he didn’t have until he found me. “Yes, I spoke to Gus. He has agreed to see you tomorrow, at your house at twelve o’clock.”
“Good,” I said. “What’s happening with…?” Don’t ask, I told myself. You don’t care. I stopped talking.
Matthew looked at his hands and then at me. I noticed he still wore his wedding ring. “He’s asking for you. You know he doesn’t really understand what happened, but he knows he hurt you. He wants to apologize.”
I considered it. Could I be that person? Could I be strong enough to face him, forgive him? If I was going to go in there, I would have to do it now. Joseph would be looking for me soon and he would definitely object. I sighed until all the air left my lungs, trying to expel the fear and the sense that this was a mistake. I pushed open the doors and stepped through.
“You came!” Cal’s face was alight with pleasure. He spoke like a child who had received a gift. His broad grin and pushed-up cheeks were too cheery to look at. They burned me with their brightness. He really was sick.
I stood in the doorway, leaning away, leaning back like there was a solid bubble surrounding him that I dare not penetrate. What was I doing?
I thought I could do it but the minute I saw his face, the violence of my thoughts frightened me. I wanted to smash the happy expression from his lips. Pull his head back by his disgusting, greasy curls and slam it against the metal bed frame until there was nothing left to hold onto.
I stayed frozen in the doorway, my hands shaking with their need to hurt him.
Cal looked at me with innocent eyes, all the menace gone, sucked out through a tumor whirlpool. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t. My sympathy was lost to him the moment he stepped into my home that night. Some things can never be undone.
I was shaking so hard I had to hold out my hand and steady myself on the doorframe. I felt like the whole building was shaking under my will, leering and shuddering, bits of the wall peeling off and littering the ground.
“I’m sorry. I… I can’t,” I managed to stammer. This was such a bad idea.
I thought I’d been handling it well up until then. That I could magically say ‘I’m fine,’ and it would be so. That focusing on something else would make me ok. No. I had to make a painfully conscious decision to be ok. That I would not let it change me. And I had to know that maybe it would change me anyway. For that reason, I could never lay eyes on Cal again.
I walked backwards out of the door and stumbled down the hallway, uncoordinatedly. Matthew caught up with me and grabbed my shoulders to slow me down before I fell over. I turned to face him, ready to yell at him, say something clever and sarcastic, but all that came out of my mouth was a tortured slip of a cry. I slumped down on the ground and hugged my knees. I let Matthew hold me and I poured out every last tear I had. I watched them fall and splash onto the rubber toes of his sneakers as I buried my head in his chest and soaked his shirt. And whether it was possible to make such a decision, I was determined right then that those were the last tears I would shed over this situation.
“I hate you,” I said, my lips squashed against one of his shirt buttons.
“That’s ok,” he replied. “Addy told me to let you hate me.”
I thought, If that’s true, then stop making it so hard to do so.
When I returned to my room, Joseph had come looking for me. He was sitting in one of the metal chairs, all his bravado and cheek succumbing to nervousness. I’d taken my time getting ready, splashing water over my face and dressing slowly, selecting jeans, a low-cut shirt, and a jacket. All they had were sneakers and that was fine with me. If there were a Survivor uniform, it was those canvas sneakers. I ran my finger across my chest, pressing my charm between my thumb and forefinger, feeling a strange reassurance in the dull metal.
I still felt wobbly, and I wasn’t sure I was up to whatever Joseph had planned, but I desperately wanted to get out of here. Hospitals, hospital beds, the foreign beeping and dripping that never seemed to die out, were beating down my brain. I needed fresh air.
Joseph stood clumsily when I entered. The chair came with him, clinging to his extra wideness with a pack on. When it clattered to the floor, he blushed uncharacteristically and the nurse rolled her eyes at both of us.
I’d tried my best to cover my hair and dress nicely. I’d tried my best not to think about the night I’d dressed for our date the first time. The date that never happened.
“Wow!” he said.
I carefully checked my hat. Was it not covering the bald patch well enough?
“You look beautiful,” Joseph said.
“I bet,” I said, “next you’ll say being half-bald suits me.”
He chuckled. “There isn’t much that doesn’t suit you, darling.”
Darling. Black scratches hung in the air like a claw had torn through time. I hunched my shoulders, feeling the memories trying to push their way into my head.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone belying his surety.
“I’m fine,” I said, changing the subject. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. Now close your eyes. Deshi’s waiting outside so you can say goodbye to Orry.”
“No way!”
“Please?”
I closed my eyes, frowning with my arms folded across my chest. “How am I supposed to walk like this? I’ll walk into a wall.”
His strong arms scooped me up and pulled me close to his chest. “Never expected you to walk,” he said.
I relaxed. Even if this was all there was, it was plenty.
Joseph kicked open the doors and stepped quickly outside before they shut on him. The temperature dropped as s
oon as we were outside. The air was cool but the sun was out and it warmed my skin. I had lost track of time in the soundless, temperature-controlled hospital room. Was it afternoon? I could hear people moving and talking around us, footsteps on the asphalt, the metallic hum of the spinners as they coasted down the street. Deshi lifted Orry’s face to mine and I kissed him. He slobbered on my nose.
“I’ll just take him back to your house and wait for you there,” Deshi said.
Joseph thanked him and we continued on. I felt ridiculous but he made me promise to keep my eyes closed.
It was a curious feeling, heightening my other senses. I could eavesdrop on other conversations around me. I heard someone talking about mobilization of Woodland forces but then we moved out of earshot. I tried to follow the words but all I caught was ‘… weeks… late snow’.
Joseph started talking and I got lost in the vibration of his voice in his chest and his warm breath, which smelled like fresh bread and toothpaste, on my face.
He talked about plans, how spring was coming. He asked me what I was going to do with the garden. It was an odd conversation, too normal. I wasn’t sure we got to have normal. Vegetable gardens and furniture-making seemed further away from me now. It was something I had craved but now I focused on the present. Anything else was not manageable.
I sensed we were heading downhill.
He stopped suddenly and I thought we were at our destination but then he changed direction and kept walking.
It started to cool slightly, and the light against my eyelids was softer. Joseph’s footfalls were softer too, hitting dirt now instead of asphalt. I could smell damp, sodden earth and pine. And fire. I smiled, the plan coming together in my mind.
“We’re here. You can open your eyes,” Joseph said. He wasn’t out of breath in the slightest. His tone even, his breath steady. How did he manage it? I marveled at his strength.
I opened my eyes to a circle of pine trees.
Joseph leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “I hope this is all right. I wanted to bring you back, show you…” His voice was a rumble; it shook my chest, my heart, delightfully, like the words were in me.
I cut him off, “It’s perfect, thank you.” The light was filtering through the pine needles, creating sharp, crisscross shadows on the forest floor. The woods looked more like I remembered. The snow had indeed receded. There were a few icy patches but spring was slowly announcing itself.
Joseph lowered me to my feet gently but never took his hand off me. And unfortunately, I needed steadying. My head was still sore and my arm made everything awkward. I knelt down and held my palms to the small fire. It radiated warmth that seemed to reach out and engulf us both. I was glowing.
We sat together and I nudged him with my shoulder. Memories flooded through me and around me, some flying like open-mouthed ghosts swirling in a circle and some living in me, breathing with my every breath. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me even closer. I looked up and watched the fire dance in his beautiful eyes. The trees leaned in to hear us, to hide us from the outside. We were part of this landscape.
“Rosa, I love you.” His earnest expression broke my heart but in a good way.
I nodded. My eyes wet. Love. The words were easy. What I felt was beyond that, and I didn’t know how to say so.
“Do you think we’ll make it?” I said casually.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes wide. “I think we have some challenges ahead of us. The Woodland soldiers are coming, but I think the Survivors have a plan. I don’t think we will be caught out like we were at the mounds.”
That’s not what I meant, but his words were heavy. I’d been so caught up in my own problems, I’d forgotten about the threats looming over the whole community. There were big issues we needed to face. The Woodland threat was like an infiltrative disease. It was creeping its deadly shadow slowly across the landscape and soon it would reach us. I imagined dark, pointed fingers impaling the fleeing people. Did they really understand what they were up against?
I took Joseph’s hand and traced over his knuckles one by one. I heard him sigh.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. I’m just so glad this hasn’t changed. I was so scared that things would be different between us, after… but they’re not.”
I kissed his hand and stared into the fire. It was simple in there, in the flames. All or nothing. Consume or be consumed. Was I changed? Not in that way at least. I loved him the same. No, I loved him more. Always more. The rest? I didn’t know what it had done to me yet.
“Tell me more about what’s happening in the Woodlands,” I said.
Joseph rested his head on the top of mine and paused. Then he pulled the backpack towards him. From it, he produced some food and spread it out on a blanket. He filled a pan with water and set it on the coals. “You should eat,” he said in his doctorly tone.
I took some bread and smeared jam on it. Finding his eyes, I urged him to tell me more but he seemed hesitant.
“What is it?”
“Don’t jump at this,” he said carefully, “but they’re going to the Woodlands in a couple of weeks.”
“What, why?” I said, barely able to keep the desperate tone from my voice.
“They’re retrieving the Spiders,” he said.
We ate in silence for a while. I knew he was watching me, trying to peer into my brain and see what I was thinking. And what was I thinking? Exactly what he feared… If they were going back, then this was my chance. My toes were tapping in agitation.
But before I could form a plan in my head, Joseph swept it away. He didn’t ask me what I was planning to do. He didn’t make me promise not to go. He just put his hands on both my shoulders and squared them so I was facing him directly. He stood and I stood with him, his arms directing me like a wooden puppet. His mouth was flat but his eyes were dancing, the green flourishing, the gold flecks sparkling like fireworks and drawing me in. He moved me gently but deliberately so that my back was against a tree and then he sunk his mouth into my neck and crept his lips up to my ear.
I found myself fighting him, because he was making it take too long. I wanted his mouth, the taste of it on my own. He finally found me and I was awash in him, in the golden bands that bound us and held us to each other. Wherever my train of thought was heading, I missed it. It was gone and, in that moment, I couldn’t have cared less.
We stayed by the fire until it became too dark too see the forest around us, enveloped in each other’s arms and company. This was exactly right and I didn’t want to leave, even if it was a false feeling. But, reminded of the great, striped creatures that stalked the night, we poured our cups of tea onto the fire and headed back to the hospital.
Matthew wasn’t there but the nurse told us he said I could go home.
She handed me a bottle of pills and a bag containing the clothes I’d worn that night. She told me I would have to come back to have the cast removed in two weeks.
I nodded and Joseph and I walked home hand in hand.
Home. I craved it and dreaded it at the same time. But when we got there, it looked the same as always. Its cracked and weathered shingles creaked in the cold. Its open shutters blinked at me and welcomed me in. It was just a building, and the violence and chaos it had housed were gone. I treaded lightly over the stone path and took the steps two at a time. Standing at the doorway, I watched the house sigh and expel the menace. It whirred out the opening and soared into the sky. Gone.
Orry cried out. The warmth of the woodstove poured over me like a wave. I heard Deshi creaking over the floorboards and calming Orry with his smooth voice. And I knew it was still home. My home.
I slipped comfortably back into my home like a familiar, worn shoe. Deshi showed me how to make up a bottle for Orry, a process that was clumsy and time consuming. But I had to shake off the things I couldn’t control. Like dry leaves clinging to a coat, they floated to the ground and I
stepped on them with a satisfying crunch.
I caught up with Deshi at the door while Joseph was changing Orry’s nappy.
I grabbed his arm and, for once, he didn’t shrink away. “Deshi, thank you. You’ve been a better friend than I deserve. I… I hope this hasn’t been too hard on you.” I knew my words were a bit incomplete but what could I say? I’m sorry if Joseph and I playing house is difficult for you?
He put his hand on my shoulder and patted it. “You know what? If you had died, that would have been hard. Watching what happened to him when he saw you lying there in front of the door… Rosa, I’ll never forget that face. I know things haven’t been easy between us but I am glad you’re ok. I want him to be happy.” Deshi eyes moved to Joseph struggling with Orry’s kicking legs as he tried to fasten the gurgling baby’s nappy.
It was rather inadequate but I said, “I really want you to be happy too.”
Surprisingly, he smiled at me, leaned down, and kissed my cheek. “I am.”
And with that, I released him. He waved through the door. “See you tomorrow, Joe.”
Joseph grabbed Orry’s legs with one hand to still them and managed a muffled “See ya” through his gritted teeth, a nappy pin hanging out the side of his mouth.
We settled Orry and placed him in his crib. I stroked his head and watched his eyes flutter and close. I felt safe here. What was I thinking giving this up to chase down a mother who probably didn’t even want me? But I felt like I had no choice—I had to go. Mother was beaten down, and even if I only knew that feeling for one night, it was enough, enough to know no one deserves to feel that way.
When I finally fell asleep, I dreamed a swirl of images that didn’t fit. I was dancing around my living room with Orry to the music Gwen had given me, laughing and throwing my head back, singing out of tune. Then I was running through the forest, a wolf’s snapping jaws at my heels. Then I was lying in bed with Joseph but thrashing around like the sheets were trying to strangle me. I fought my way free of them and landed with a thud on the floor but instead of the ground, I found myself pressed up against a Ring gate.
The Wall (The Woodlands) Page 20
