“You can’t just eat meat all the time,” I snapped.
“I know, I know,” he said, arms up in surrender, the sleeves of his shirt pulling back to reveal his forearms.
“What’s that?” I asked, grabbing his arm and inspecting it more closely. It was red and bumpy, the skin angry and raw. I ran my fingers lightly over the sore flesh and he sharply withdrew, wincing in pain.
“It’s nothing. I think my skin’s just irritated from all the sawdust. My boss is such a slave driver, you know,” he said with a smirk, jerking his sleeve down and pulling me towards him.
I was concerned, but as soon as he started tiptoeing his fingers up my arm, I forgot what I was thinking. Joseph had become very good at avoiding my huge stomach as his fingers meandered up my arm and found their way to my hair. Pulling my head gently to the side, he parted my lips with his own. My head filled with gold, pushing logical thoughts out of my head like loose slips of paper.
After a while, he pulled his head back and I felt his lips gently brushing my ear. “I’m so impressed with you,” he whispered.
“Really, why?” I asked, not really caring for the answer, just craving his lips on my ear again.
“You’ve come so far.”
I froze, no longer moving towards him. Feeling my body reluctantly, but instinctively, pulling away from his touch. A beautiful oak tree leaned down to hear us, its orange and yellow leaves lighting the branches up like flame.
“What does that mean?” I asked defensively, clenching my fists.
Joseph eyes fell. He scratched his arm again and let his arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Rosa, I don’t want to fight.”
I took another step back, my feet crunching and then squelching into the dirt as I stomped, vibrating with anger. “Just explain to me what I have done to impress you so much?” I spat.
“I just meant, you’ve changed, you’re more open, you’ve let me in.”
He stumbled over his words, trying to diffuse me. He held out his hand but I smacked it away. I hated when he tried to ‘manage’ me like this. It made it even harder to control my anger. It rose in me like an over boiling pot, bubbles surging up and burning me with hot steam. I was of two minds, one part of me trying to calm down but the other, overwhelming part, held onto the anger and pushed it forward.
“I didn’t realize I was so behind before,” I said sarcastically, knowing I was taking it too far, but unable to stop myself. As I grew in size, so did the strength of my changing emotions. I was fuming, although not entirely sure why. “You can’t change me, you know, this is it.” I was stamping the earth like a child having a tantrum, smattering the colored leaves with dirt.
Joseph’s expression changed from apologetic and calm to angry, his mouth pursed, eyebrows knotted, a temper starting to boil up to join mine.
“Believe me, I know that,” he said loudly, his deep voice booming through the forest. I leaned away, shocked; he had never really raised his voice to me. I knew I had gone too far, I knew it, so why didn’t I stop? I pushed his chest. He didn’t move. So I turned my back to him and uttered, “You need to leave, now,” even though I didn’t want him to go anywhere. I was desperate for him to stay.
“Fine, you get your way.” He walked away from me, his boots thumping through the forest loudly. But as his furious form retreated through the trees, I caught him mutter, “You always do.”
My face fell and tears brimmed over, splashing down my face. I willed him to turn around, to see my sorry face, but he never did. He just stormed through the soft undergrowth, trampling plants and scratching his arm furiously as he went, until he disappeared from sight.
I looked through the spaces between the branches of the oak tree. Little framed windows of white light sparked and shot down to the forest floor. What’s wrong with me, Clara? Why can’t I be happy? Why am I always pushing him away?
I thought back to the day when I was eavesdropping on Joseph and Clara’s conversation. “She trusts you, she just doesn’t trust herself,” she’d said. She was right. The closer it got to my due date, the more I worried about my feelings. I didn’t trust that I could make it work. I didn’t understand why he had faith in me, when everything I loved turned to dust. I fell to my knees, placing my hands in the dirt. This was what came of loving me. I picked up a handful and watched it trickle to the ground. Dust. Tears turning to mud as they merged with the ground.
I sobbed pathetically, sitting in a triangle of light that finally forced me to move. I rose from the ground and wiped my red face. I knew a lot of this was pregnancy hormones, but part of it was fear. The baby always drove a wedge between us because I was afraid of it. I resolved to try and talk to him rationally. I needed to explain how I was feeling.
I made my way back. Tonight was the first we would sleep inside. It was a good thing too; the nights had started to get icy, a fine frost gathering on the outside of our sleeping bags. I hoped Careen had made more progress with the fireplace. I hoped Joseph hadn’t stormed back angry and was telling everyone what a horrible person I was. No, he would never do that.
When I got back, everyone was hovering over something I had been working on. They were circling it and talking to each other when I broke the circle. I busted in, deliberately opposite Joseph, trying to catch his eyes, but he avoided my gaze. I frowned. I guess at some point it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to be my punching bag anymore but I was disappointed. I’d hoped he would realize that I was just overly emotional from all the hormones. With every second that he avoided me, I could feel myself prickling, feel the compulsion to yell or push him again, but I told myself to calm down. This time the calm side won. He couldn’t always be the understanding one. This time it was my turn to make it right.
“Why are you all staring at the door?” I asked, bending down awkwardly to wipe some sawdust off the roughened planks of wood. Joseph’s hand reached out to help me, but then it withdrew quickly. I stayed on the ground, looking up at the group. I had laid out the planks side by side neatly and placed cross braces on them to make a door, but I hadn’t quite worked out how to hang it in the doorway.
Deshi spoke first. “How are we going to put this up? We can’t have a house with no door over winter. It kind of defeats the purpose,” he said crankily, holding Hessa over his shoulder and bouncing up and down as he patted the child’s back.
Careen held out her hand and I took it. She pulled me up too quickly and I felt the blood rush to my head, swaying a little, Apella steadied me with her wispy hands. Joseph stood, hands by his side, silent.
“I’m not sure, at the Classes we were taught to hang doors with hinges. I don’t think I can fashion hinges from wood. Besides, I don’t think they would be strong enough,” I said, still trying desperately to get Joseph to look at me but he wouldn’t. His jaw was tense and he looked at his feet. It was just a little fight and he was sulking like a child. I watched him pat his right arm over and over with narrowed eyes.
“Couldn’t we just stand the door in the gap?” Apella said naively, flicking her finger towards the yawning hole in the cabin.
“No,” I replied, thinking it over. “The weather would push through and it would blow down if it was windy. It needs to be secure and strong against the elements.”
Finally Joseph spoke, a smaller sound than I was used to, “Then we need some hinges.”
I knew what he was going to say. I knew I wouldn’t like the sound of it at all.
“I’ll go back and get some. Remember? Every door was rotted through but what was left of them was hanging off big, iron hinges,” he continued.
“No, it’s too far and it’s too dangerous,” I said, hearing my voice increasing in pitch. “We’ll find another way.”
His eyes were steeled as he said, “I doubt it. Look, we have plenty of time. The rest of you can collect more food and firewood. Finish the fireplace. By the time I get back, you’ll be done and we can put the door up.” He sounded so
calm. Everyone else was nodding in agreement.
I pitched forward into the group. “Are you all crazy? What if he gets lost, or injured? He can’t go alone.” The idea of him leaving me was too much, especially on these terms.
“I’ll go with him,” Careen volunteered. My worst nightmare. Well, one of them at least.
Alexei pushed his glasses up onto his head only to run his hands through his hair and knock them to the ground. “Ok, then it’s settled, you can leave in the morning,” he said to the ground.
Everyone nodded and returned to their various tasks. I stood over my door, staring at it, racking my brain for another solution that meant he could stay. I couldn’t come up with anything.
I found Joseph stacking stones for the fireplace, the clink of rock on rock interrupted by his slight heaves. I touched his arm and he swung around, startled. When he saw it was me he relaxed a little, but I could see he was still hurt.
“I’m sorry,” I admitted, drawing the apology out of my mouth like a heavy bucket from a well. It was difficult, but I didn’t want him leaving without trying to work this out. In truth, I wanted to convince him not to go.
His surprise was hurtful and obvious. “Wow, ok, I thought it would take a little longer than that,” he laughed, that familiar smile returning to his face.
I moved closer, pressing my fingers to his chest. “I’m just a mess. The hormones make me crazy. I think, as we get closer to the leech…I mean, the baby being born, the more I worry about how things will change,” I confessed, heart jumping. I was wracked with uncertainty, feeling stupid to have put myself in this situation in the first place.
Joseph put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eye. “I’m scared too, Rosa. Don’t you get it? I don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what will happen when the baby comes. I’m not sure how I will feel, or how you will feel.” His eyes left mine and he looked past me. “Sometimes I worry this was a mistake.” I went cold, sharp shivers shooting through me.
I hated how desperate I sounded when I said, “It’s not. Whatever happens later, I will always be glad that I had this, no matter how painful the rest might be. Don’t give up on me yet, Joseph. You know, you can’t always predict what I might do,” I said, smiling sadly.
“Oh, I know that!” he laughed as his arms slipped from my shoulders to my waist and he pulled me to his chest.
“So, it’s not a mistake?” I asked, looking up into his eyes.
“Oh, it definitely is!” he said, grinning, “But I don’t care.”
I wanted to say, then don’t go, but I knew it wouldn’t change his mind. He wasn’t as stubborn as me, but he was pretty close. I thought of going with him but I would only make them take longer. Instead, we climbed the hill that rose from behind our little cabin to watch the sunset. Joseph had to push me up the hill, but it was worth it to get to the top. We could see the mounds of grassy hills; rocky patches sliding into creeks and wooded forests. It felt like we were the only humans that had been here in hundreds of years. We probably were.
The sky was cloudy, which made for a more spectacular sunset. Colors of purple pierced bright oranges and deep dark reds the color of blood. We sat in the wet grass and watched the sun slip below the hills. I leaned into his chest, his warm arms wrapped around my shoulders, his shirt, uncharacteristically, buttoned at the wrist. His legs sprawled on either side of me and I felt cocooned, safe in my space between his chest and his worn, dirt-caked boots. I sighed at the state of them. All that walking. We had both come so far.
I placed a hand on his knee and he shifted slightly. “Don’t go,” I said, feeling tears welling. Panic and hope mixed together. I was annoyed that I said it. I didn’t want to be this person. This pathetic wreck, so tied to him. I was angry too. He opened me up, and now he was leaving, again. I felt like I would stay open until he returned, a throbbing wound bound together loosely by dirty string. I could have been happy before, but he changed what happiness meant.
“Rosa, don’t worry. I won’t be gone long. It’ll only be a couple of days. It will give you a chance to miss me,” he said, but his cheek was unconvincing.
I closed my mouth. Anything I said would only sound like begging, and it wouldn’t make any difference anyway. I was full of misgivings about this trip and I knew the next few days would be unbearable.
We stayed there for hours, talking and laughing. He held my hand and I kissed his fingers one by one. He nuzzled his now scruffy face in my hair and caressed my neck. We were determined to enjoy this last night together. Somewhere, the panic lifted and I floated away on a cloud of happiness and tiredness.
I only had a slight awareness I was moving, my head fuzzy from sleep. He lowered me into my bed, now propped up off the floor by fur and dried grass. It was warm and comfortable. I sunk into it, awaiting the extra warmth of his body beside my own, the comforting sound of his slow, even breathing. But all I could hear was a faint clattering. I opened my eyes drowsily to see him stuffing things into his backpack. I opened my mouth but he beat me to it, whispering, “The sooner I leave, the sooner I will be back.”
“No,” I begged, finding my voice. I pulled myself up, fighting sleep. “Please. At least leave in the morning.” My voice stripped down, withering and pathetic.
“All right,” he sighed, placing his pack against the wall. He climbed into the bag with me and I snuggled into his chest. I wished I could hide his pack or find some other way to stop him or delay his leaving. I fell asleep, concocting ideas of how I would convince him to stay in the morning.
When I opened my eyes to the beginning of morning, Joseph and Careen were gone.
There are so many things I didn’t understand. Needs and wants I didn’t even know I had. Not until it was too late.
The next two days were absolute agony. When I realized he’d left, I was furious, throwing things around in a fit of anger. When I calmed down, I found a scrawled note on a scrap of wood.
‘Sorry I left without saying goodbye. Knew you would make me stay. Back soon. I love you. Joseph.’
I threw it out the window, the scrap slicing through the air like a saw blade. Feeling tethered to it like it was my last shred of hope, I ran outside and retrieved it. I held it close to my heart while the others watched, feeling like an idiot, but having no other tangible thing to hold onto. I was so worried. There were so many dangerous things out there. I thought about the wolves, the yellow-eyed animals. I shuddered. It was terrifying to think of him being attacked again.
I turned my focus on Hessa and finishing shutters for the window. Distraction was the key. The fireplace was finished and drying. I laid Hessa next to me as I used the axe to plane down planks of wood ready to attach to each other for window shutters. He watched me with his perfect blue eyes, squinting as the sun grabbed around my shadow. He held his hands in front of his face, mesmerized by them one second and sucking on them the next. I handed him his doll and let him suck on that. Sometimes it was like his mother was staring back at me. It calmed me. I felt her invisible arm link with mine. I played with his tiny feet, tickled his toes, and watched his delighted face when I held them up for him to see, like they were not his own. He made me laugh and brought me out of my miserable state, for a little while.
Towards the end of the day, the sky darkened. Hessa’s face was shrouded in shadows. I worked on, until the first splashes of water hit his little face.
I pulled myself up slowly and brought Hessa out of the rain. This would be a good test for our cabin. The clay had been drying for about a week. I hoped it was enough time. I pick Hessa up and walked towards the dark wood shelter, the need for a door very evident as rain cascaded down the gap, creating a curtain of water to pass through. The others filtered in from the forest with various handfuls of nuts and fruit, tumbling them into a blanket by the fireplace. I laid Hessa on my bed and made a fire. The sudden chill in the air was hurting my lungs. It had changed so quickly.
I thought of Joseph and Careen and prayed
they’d found shelter somewhere.
I struggled to light the fire. Damp wood, damp matches. I blew on it, trying to persuade a flame. Slowly sparks crept up around the timber. But once I had it going, the room filled with smoke; dark grey smoke, pushing forward and pouring out the windows. Hessa was coughing. Our eyes were stinging. The chimney must have been blocked, or had collapsed outside. I smothered the fire, then, using the water that was pouring from where the door should be, I completely extinguished it.
The cabin was only leaking in one corner of the room. But rain was streaming through the uncovered windows. We moved all our stuff into the dry corner and stayed close to each other for warmth. I used some of our only nails to hammer a blanket over the windows, which helped a little. The rain had certainly pointed out some things that needed to be fixed. It was going to be a damp, miserable night.
I couldn’t sleep. I was too concerned for Joseph and Careen. Listening to the wind blowing outside, it sounded devilish, howling and whipping the trees. I worried about the strength of our cabin. If it fell down on us, we would be crushed by the trunks on the roof. It held strong. I pictured Careen and Joseph huddling together in the cold, as we were. At least I started to, until my imagination had them crawling all over each other and I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn’t going to happen, I convinced myself. I held Hessa close and concentrated on keeping him warm.
Deshi was awake too. Apella and Alexei were intertwined with one another and had fallen asleep in a tangle.
The Woodlands Page 24