Alisiyad

by Sarah R. Suleski

  A hot fog descended over him, and Liseli’s face above him was fuzzy, now. Her voice sounded distant, as if she stood on one of the mountain peaks, and the sound echoed down to him. But the words were lost. He closed his eyes, feeling like he was falling backwards, ever so slowly, into dark waters, sinking down . . . .

  * * *

  Liseli crouched next to Russ for a few minutes, her arms wrapped around her knees. He looked to be sleeping — eyes shut, ragged breathing slow and measured, though still shallow. He didn’t look well at all.

  “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, and stood. She didn’t know if the nap would make things better. But there wasn’t anything else to do — he couldn’t go on, and she couldn’t pull medicine out of nowhere.

  Liseli paced back and forth for a few minutes, mulling over everything that had happened. It just didn’t make any sense, and the more she thought, the less sense it made.

  She tried to sleep, but she couldn’t relax. The ground was lumpy, and when she lay down on the grass little ants and other insects started to crawl over her. How could Russ sleep so deeply? Too deeply, maybe, like someone had knocked him out. She stopped staring and got up again. It was better to just keep pacing.

  A little over fifteen minutes into the rest, Liseli looked up and saw a figure standing some distance away, across a field. She caught her breath and stopped. From where she stood it looked like the thin tanned frame of a small child wearing a white loincloth. The child stared back at her. He was bald.

  “Hello!” Liseli called, breaking from her stupor. The child didn’t respond. Liseli threw a glance back at Russ. He hadn’t stirred. She turned back to the child and tried again: “Hello! Can I talk to you?”

  He turned slowly and began to walk away. “Hey!” Liseli objected, “I just want to, I mean, I need some help, and . . . .” He didn’t stop or turn back. Liseli started to jog after him, but even though he appeared to move slowly he disappeared around a bend of trees before she could approach him.

  Liseli followed around the curve of the woods, but she couldn’t find him. She hurried on, up past other clumps of trees, but still there was no trace. How could he get away so fast? she wondered, turning in circles. He must have a little fort or some kind of hiding place. She stopped and spoke into the seemingly empty woods: “My name is Liseli Luenford. I don’t want to hurt you; I just want to talk to you. I need to find out where I am, and my . . . my f-friend is sick, and needs help, and I . . . . We need your help. Alright? Will you come out?”

  * * *

  Russ awoke still feeling dazed and foggy. He sat up, an uncomfortable stiffness in his neck. He choked and coughed on the gunk that had been building up and dripping into the back of his throat, then groaned, rubbing his face. He was very thirsty, so he bent over the stream again, this time not bothering to use his hands. It felt cool against his burning face, though his throat was sore and it hurt to swallow. But he did feel somewhat better, after sleeping, and the water was reviving. He sat back and looked around, slowly recognizing that something wasn’t right.

  Liseli was gone.

  Russ dragged himself to his feet and looked around again. “Liseli?” His voice came out in a hoarse wheeze. He cleared his throat and called again, but still couldn’t manage any decent projection.

  It doesn’t matter, she wouldn’t answer.

  The thought stopped him cold. He stood in shock as the realization hit him. She had left.

  He sank back down to the ground and sat there staring at his knees. Was that why she’d been so eager for me to go to sleep? So she could sneak away?

  Of course. How stupid of you. Liseli doesn’t like you when you’re healthy, she’s not gonna drag you around when you’re sick. Nothing but a hindrance. Should have known.

  He leaned over the stream again, and saw his reflection peering back up at him, warped and distorted by the rippling water. He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut, but in the dark he saw Liseli’s green eyes glaring down at him. It made him feel angry for a moment. She’d deserted him! Sick to death and lost in the middle of nowhere . . . and she just ditched him! Yeah. I’d ditch me too. But maybe if I wasn’t so sick, I could be . . . a help . . . . No, who are you trying to kid? Liseli doesn’t think she needs any protection, and certainly not yours.

  Stop this. Get over it, think, do something you stupid bastard! He stood up, thinking he should try to find her, anyway — to hell with whether she wanted him around or not. She was alone in an unknown place, after all . . . . He felt a surge of dizziness and sat back down again, hard. He took a breath, but the air felt like knives shoving down into his lungs, and he choked on it, coughing violently. He thought he heard laughter then . . . he was sure someone was laughing at him from far away.

  Chapter 4 ~ The Child, part 2

  Liseli searched for the child. Was there a cave, she wondered? Had the child disappeared underground? That had to be it, because she’d looked up into every tree and under every fallen trunk without success. It was all she could do to maintain self-control and not yell something rude. Several things were on the tip of her tongue, ready to be unleashed in her frustration.

  Face it, he’s gone, she finally admitted. At least she knew that there were people here. She’d go back and get Russ, and they’d find where the child lived. Perhaps the adults will be more reasonable.

  She turned and stalked back to the stream, where Russ sat with his head between his knees. He clutched at his hair with one fist as if about to pull it out.

  “Good, you’re awake!”

  Russ’s head snapped up, and he stood, wavering a little. His foot slipped down into the stream with a splash, but he steadied himself, backing up. “Liseli, where—”

  “I saw a person, a little kid,” she said in a rush. “He wouldn’t talk to me, and I lost him. But at least that proves there are people here. We’ve got to find the town, or whatever, so let’s—” She broke off, noticing his increased pallor for the first time.

  “What?” he asked nervously.

  “Russell . . . you’re . . . white . . . ” she gaped. “I mean . . . white white, are you—”

  “I’m fine.” He muted a cough.

  Like hell you are! She stared for a moment more, bringing herself under control. “Alright,” she said, “we need to find people. Soon. Come on, let’s get one more drink, and go.”

  * * *

  They struck out again, still heading for the mountains, since that was the direction the child had gone. Russ felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment that he had jumped to a false conclusion and become so melodramatic about it. But the relief was stronger at the moment, and his steps didn’t feel quite as heavy as they had before. Come to think of it, everything felt lighter than it had before, and he wasn’t altogether certain that he was balanced firmly on the ground.

  Liseli was more talkative. She told him all about the aggravating child, but he only half heard what she was saying. He liked the sound of her voice, when she wasn’t snapping, but it was hard to concentrate on her words, because they seemed so . . . light. He made little replies in the empty spaces, but even his own voice sounded distant and flimsy to his ears.

  * * *

  Liseli drifted into silence. She could tell that Russ was not “all there,” and she could not really think of anything to talk about, once she exhausted the topic of the child. Her thoughts turned to food — how many hours had it been since she’d eaten? She didn’t usually eat lunch, using her lunch break to escape to the Mill, but she didn’t usually spend her afternoons hiking, either. She wondered what they would do if they could not find people with food. But that was out of the question: of course they would find people. The child assured this. She pushed away thoughts of food.

  Time passed with surprising quickness. They kept walking up and down hills through fields of calf- or knee-high grass, dotted with small woods and clusters of trees and bushes. There were no signs of people, but they kept going, driven on by the promise of the child. Li
seli even thought she caught glimpses of him every now and then, though she couldn’t be sure, and Russ didn’t seem to be able to make out anything definite. “Could be an animal . . . ” he reminded her, every time. But otherwise he did not make any protest. He seemed to recover a little as the day wore on, becoming more alert, though he still seemed tired and congested.

  They rested again toward evening. They found a little pond — not the freshest looking water, surrounded by gnats and mosquitoes, but it would have to do. Little tadpoles darted to and fro in the shallow water near the edge, and Liseli stared at them dubiously. No — she wasn’t that hungry, not yet. She only drank a few sips of water, hoping that she wouldn’t get a disease, or worms, or worse. It didn’t taste very good, either.

  “Should we go?” Russ asked, waving the bugs away from his face.

  “Don’t you want another rest?”

  Russ shrugged, but he looked tired. Liseli scooted back away from the mud by the pond’s edge, and sat down in the damp grass. “Well, I need one. I’ve never walked so freaking far in my life.” She heaved a sigh and added, “I’ve got a bad feeling that we passed wherever that little kid lives. I thought he was heading west toward the mountains . . . but I guess that didn’t mean much. He could have turned north or south at any time.”

  Russ just nodded, slowly and methodically, without offering any suggestions for what to do next.

  “I’ve never been anywhere so empty,” Liseli observed. “If we were . . . if we were home . . . we’d have come across a thousand houses by now, and roads — they don’t even have roads here!”

  “Maybe it’s a nature park.”

  “I thought of that. But do little half naked kids wander around alone in nature parks?”

  He shrugged again. “Maybe here they do.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  A yawn escaped him before he replied, “Has anything made sense yet?”

  “No,” she conceded, looking out over the pond. “No it hasn’t.”

  Her words hung in the air between them for a moment or two, sounding dire. It felt dire, this helpless state of not knowing what made sense anymore. I’m tired and cold and it’s getting darker, nothing has gone right since we left that spot . . . since we left the Mill. How many miles did we cover today running after that idiot kid? Miles. As if miles matter when everything has changed. Maybe this is home, maybe it’s like . . . it’s like we missed a thousand years passing and everything’s gone back to wilderness and mountains have sprung up, like a giant earthquake wiped out civilization and we . . . and we . . . oh this is stupid.

  She shook her head, determined not to believe the absurd idea that they’d been caught in a time warp while civilization crumbled and mountains rose. Biting off a laugh, she said, “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever skipped work. I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mr. Berdilo when we get back.”

  Russ took a moment to respond. If he’d been thinking about anything like catastrophic time warping plate shifts, he didn’t show it. “I thought Mr. Berdilo fired you.”

  “What?” She turned to look at him fully. Something in her voice or look must have worried him, because he edged away. “Why on earth would you think that?”

  “You ran off . . . all upset.”

  “Oh.” She looked at the ground. “Well it wasn’t that.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I just left. It doesn’t matter why. But . . . but he wasn’t expecting me to leave. And then you had to go and follow me; that’s both our jobs screwed.”

  “You know—” Russ began, then stopped to cough.

  She didn’t like the way it sounded; like a piece of his lung would end up in the pond. At least he’d covered his mouth with an arm, though. It was more than she would have expected. But it didn’t make the hacking sound any less . . . dire.

  “Sorry,” he wheezed. “Anyway . . . I . . . I think what to tell Mr. Berdilo is the least of our worries. Right now.” He drew his knees up and rested his forehead between them. After a moment his voice came out muffled against his legs; “I feel like I’m dying.”

  Liseli frowned. “Russell, I know you’re sick, but this is no time to curl up and whine. You’re coughing and congested and running a little fever . . . big deal. You’re not the first person to have to deal with something while you’re sick and you are not going to die.”

  He stuck his legs out straight again and peered at her out from under his hair. “Fine, I’m fine.” He inhaled shallowly.

  “Listen,” she relented, “I know it’s tough. And you’re right.” She paused, swallowing. “I mean, our jobs aren’t as important as whatever else is going on here. But I’m just thinking positive, thinking ahead to what’ll happen after this little problem has . . . gone away.”

  He shrugged. “I guess.” Then he lifted his head a little to look at her more directly. “What about your family? Is the Burger House all . . . .”

  “Is the Burger House what?” she asked darkly.

  He smiled, or at least she thought he did; it was getting too dark to be able to tell. But she could see him shake his head, refusing to go on.

  “If you mean to ask ‘is the Burger House all I ever think about,’ no.” She sniffed and shifted her seat on the ground, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she resituated.

  He didn’t deny that that’s what he had meant.

  “Not that it’s really any of your business about my family,” she went on, “but I have a lot of siblings, all younger than me, and my mom has been busy lately because she’s getting married again next week. So she doesn’t keep tabs on me, I am sure I will probably be home before she realizes I was gone.” She feared she was babbling, and fell silent.

  “I think they’ll notice. I mean, I’d noticed if . . . you were gone.”

  She huffed and looked away. “You don’t know my family, we’re not the ‘sit around the dinner table and discuss the day’ types. Anyway. What about you?”

  “What about me?” He sounded genuinely lost.

  “Your family.” She turned back to shake her head at him. “We’re discussing all the many people who are going to miss us, remember? It was your idea.”

  “Oh.” Russ looked at the ground. “My mom won’t really care. My sister, though . . . I dunno. She always has to know everything, so she’ll want to know where I was.”

  “What about Marcy?”

  He shrugged, itching his head for a moment, as if the question was very difficult. “We broke up.”

  “Oh.” Liseli felt she should add a perfunctory “that’s too bad” or “I’m sorry,” but she didn’t. “I thought I saw her in the Burger House this morning.”

  He looked up, shrugging again. “She likes the Burger House.”

  “I thought she only came because you gave her discounts.” Liseli half-closed her eyes with a little sniff. “Are you still—”

  “No fucking way,” he snapped, then broke into a cough. He added a mumbled, “Sorry. I guess I’m still a little pissed. She just,” he paused, wiping his nose, “didn’t say anything to me. My sister . . . told me.”

  “Wait, Marcy dumped you?”

  He nodded. “Last night. She’s dating someone new, already.”

  “Ah.”

  Russ shrugged, then tossed something into the pond. It was a stone, and it skipped one, two, three times before disappearing with a plop.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he spoke into the silence.

  Liseli snorted and looked at the sky. “See, I told you not to give her discounts.” Brilliant comment, she chastised herself. But she’d never been good at commiserating about breakups . . . she’d never had one herself and she’d always hated being around to watch her mother sighing over lost husbands and her sister pouting between boyfriends. Russ pouting over his girlfriend wasn’t much better.

  “I don’t think that had anything to do with it.”

  She thought she could hear a faint smile in his voice. Maybe he’s not pouting. Maybe it does
n’t really matter. Right. He’s a guy, they don’t care. “I just meant that she didn’t deserve those kind of favors; risking your job making unauthorized discounts. Now you see why I told you not to.”

  “I didn’t think you . . . .”

  “What?”

  “Nevermind.” He shook his head. “We got along okay, so I didn’t expect . . . .” He drifted off with a rattling sigh.

  “Well, you’re probably better off without her anyway.”

  “What?”

  Liseli smiled, though she knew he probably couldn’t see it. “We are talking about the same person, right? Marcy? I didn’t think you made a very good couple.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, and she started to think maybe this wasn’t the best subject for them. He sent another stone flying into the pond, but it failed to skip.

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, I mean,” she added. “Just my opinion.”

  He finally spoke again, quietly. “It’s alright. You’re right, I guess. I mean, she’s just a friend of my sister’s, really . . . Kyla set us up and I went along ’cause, well . . . it’s not like I had anyone else to go out with.” He slapped his neck and mumbled, “Damn bugs . . . .”

  She snorted again. “You could do better.”

  His silence lasted longer this time, and he kept his head down with his hair hanging in front of his eyes. Liseli wished that she hadn’t spoken so boldly — he probably thought she was coming on to him now. Which was absurd. Why does it always have to be an insult or an encouragement? Can’t you ever just talk normally with him, you little idiot? This isn’t high school!

  She needed to change the subject. “So it’s just your mom and sister at home, then? Is your dad . . . I’m sorry.”

  “No, he lives in California.”

  “Oh. Mine lives in Illinois. My parents have been divorced for a long time now,” she said, shrugging. “So, you know, I barely remember what it was like before then.”