“You like it?” she asked between loud slurps.
“Love it,” I replied. “You know, I wish you could cook for me every day.”
“You never know, maybe I will,” she answered as she locked her beautiful eyes upon mine.
My face suddenly became rather hot, and I don’t think it was from the soup. And although it didn’t make any sense, I got the impression yet again that she was interested in me. Yet, that niggling doubt that she was doing these things to repay a debt for saving her life refused to go away.
"Nanako, there's something I've been wanting to tell you,” I began hesitantly. It was time to get that doubt out into the air, “I don't want you to feel like you owe me anything."
"You mean for saving me from the Skel?" she asked, her eyes sparkling humorously.
"Yes."
"Is that why you think I'm making these meals and spending time with you?"
"Well, it’s not what I’m thinking, per se. But I just wanted to make sure you know that you don’t owe me anything, that’s all," I explained clumsily.
She leaned forward, smiling broadly. "That's not why I'm doing these things."
"Then why are you?" I pressed.
"Because I like you," she replied, and then, looking down at her dinner, she muttered softly under her breath, “Anata o aishite iru kara.”
I wasn’t supposed to hear that phrase whispered in Japanese, but to my ears it was as clear as if she had spoken it aloud. She had said; “It’s because I love you.”
Now that was the one answer I hadn’t expected to hear, though to be honest, that such a beautiful, mysterious girl should profess that she loved me both flattered and confused me. It made me feel special and privileged, but baffled me because we barely knew each other, and because it was a love that could not be realised due to my town’s rigid customs.
"But you've known me for less than a week," was all I could think to say.
"As soon as I saw you on Monday – after you had helped Councillor Okada from the car, I knew you."
"What do you mean?"
She reached across the table and laid her small left hand on my right. A thrill raced up my arm and down the back of my head and spine, melting more of the walls I had built around my heart. "When I saw you, I saw an upright, honest man with a heart for others - a man of passion and capable of greatness."
"I…don’t know what to say. No-one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”
“Then don’t say anything,” she smiled.
I thought of Father’s attempt to marry me off to Sienna King, and once again wished he would contact Nanako’s parents to arrange a marriage between the two of us instead. I wished this blossoming friendship could continue yet on a much deeper level. But sadly, it was impossible, for my father would never allow it, and surely neither would hers. I wondered what her goals were in pursuing me so openly, and refused to think it was a merely physical attraction, since she said she loved me.
Searching for answers, I decided to try the bold approach. "Nanako, are marriages in Hamamachi arranged by their fathers like in Newhome, with the children having no say in the matter?"
She shook her head emphatically, her pink fringe swinging from side to side. "In Hamamachi a couple either meets through an introduction arranged by the prospective parents - with no obligation to marry; or they meet and decide to marry entirely on their own, with no input from their parents."
"You're kidding." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I'm serious," she said, before lowering her voice and continuing, "Ethan, I've been to several Victorian towns and none of them are even remotely similar to Newhome. None of them have twelve-foot walls; their residents are free to come and go as they please; there are no exclusive upper class districts like your North End; and I've never seen anything like your Custodians, who seem more interested in controlling the people than in providing security against external threats."
I tried to absorb what she shared, and to be honest, I wasn't overly surprised, for I had long considered Newhome to be a prison for a population with very few freedoms.
"Do you know who established this town, because I'll bet it wasn't Australians?" she asked.
Now that was a thought that had never occurred to me. "Who else could have established it? We're at the southern end of the Australian continent - what foreign power would have come all the way down here to set up a town?"
“It's a mystery, that's for sure. Councillor Okada is stumped by it too. He believes the submarine moored in the river beside the town may be the answer.”
"The submarine’s nuclear reactor provides Newhome with its electricity. Are you suggesting it isn’t from the Australian navy?”
"The councillor says it's a Soviet built Whiskey Twin-Cylinder, but that doesn't mean it's from Russia, for they sold them to a number of nations. And are you sure it has a nuclear reactor? The councillor said the Whiskey-class subs had diesel-electric engines."
"All of Newhome's power comes from the sub," I answered, "There's an entire department here devoted to the maintenance of its nuclear reactor. From time to time they disconnect it from the city's power supply in order to replace one of its components. My friend David said it's to make sure no parts of the reactor ever develop cracks."
"So someone down the line must have replaced its engine with a nuclear reactor. But at any rate, our guess is that whoever came here in that sub established this town."
"Interesting," I replied, wondering if there was some way I could find out what nation the sub had belonged to. I decided to file that topic for later consideration and returned to what we had been discussing previously, a topic that was of much greater significance to me personally. "Forgetting about submarines for a moment, may I ask from what age you are permitted to marry in Hamamachi? It's sixteen here."
"Its eighteen for us," she replied, "however, the age can be lowered to sixteen with parental consent and a magistrate's approval."
I reflected upon all she had told me about marriage, and pondered the mindboggling implications of Nanako being able to choose her own husband. The implications of this filled me with a kind of nervous excitement, though I wasn’t sure why.
There was one more question I absolutely had to ask; "Nanako, you don't have, you know, a guy back home?" I asked, although I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.
Her confidence faltered and she broke eye contact, her hand slipping off mine. "No. I did have, a couple of years ago, but he...he said he never wanted to see me again."
I looked at her downcast face, and feeling for her, I reached out and lifted her chin so that she met my gaze again. "Nanako, if I had a girl like you, I'd never ever, for any reason whatsoever, let her go."
Her eyes moistening, Nanako suddenly stood to her feet, "Sorry, I need to go to the bathroom."
She practically ran to the bathroom and shut the door behind her, leaving me at a loss. What did I do wrong? Did I say something inappropriate, or was this just a very sensitive issue for her?
I wanted to give her the privacy she sought, but with my enhanced hearing I heard her slide down the bathroom wall to the floor and sob quietly, saying the same phrase over and over, "I can't go through this again, I just can't."
And then I knew what weighed so heavily on her heart, why she had sat crying so dejectedly on the apartments' roof her first night here. Some fool guy had broken her heart.
Determined to give her privacy, I collected the dirty dishes and washed them rather noisily. I put the leftover udon back on the stove and covered it, as it would need to cool down before I could put it in the fridge.
Nanako emerged from the bathroom five minutes later, her eyes puffy from crying. Outwardly composed, she bowed. "I'm sorry. We're having such a lovely evening and I don't want to go spoiling it by getting all emotional."
I reached out and took her left hand awkwardly in mine. "You have nothing to apologise for."
"Shall we watch some TV?" she asked, tugging
me after her as she headed for the sofa.
I popped on the TV and we dropped onto the threadbare sofa, which only just accommodated two. She sat on my right, turned towards me, and draped her slim, shapely legs on top of mine. The way her thighs flattened out upon mine was simply mesmerising. She laid her head on my shoulder and snuggled her arms against my chest. I hesitantly put my right arm around her shoulders, and simply enjoyed being with her. And as we cuddled, a serene peace saturated every part of me, driving away the disturbing sense of emptiness that had been with me ever since I woke in hospital back in December '20 after the operation.
I thought it strange that although I had never seen my parents cuddle, hug or even touch, holding Nanako like this felt like the most natural thing in the world. I ran my fingers through her hair and then jerked them back in surprise. "You're wearing a wig!"
"You didn't know?" she asked, amazed.
"I had no idea," I laughed. "Can I see your real hair?"
"Alright," she said. She carefully lifted off the pink and black wig and then removed a stocking-like cap that held her hair flat. That done, she shook her hair out until it fell naturally around her face.
The result was stunning. Her real hair was naturally black and worn in a bob-cut that was short at the back and long at the front. And like the wig, her fringe hung below her eyebrows, which if anything, further enhanced the effect of the thick eyeliner surrounding her eyes.
"Why the wig? You look just as pretty without it," I declared as I ran my fingers through her hair, which was as smooth as silk.
"I like it, besides, it’s part of the fashion," she answered. She hesitated, and then asked, "Hey, can you give me a leg massage?"
I looked at her in surprise. "A what?"
"You know, massage the muscles in my legs."
"How do I do that?"
"Just start at the ankles and work your way up," she said.
I looked at her legs draped sideways over mine, and at the exposed length of thigh showing between her over-knee socks and the shorts, and it seemed to me that what she was asking was quite improper. "Sorry, I really can't."
"Sure you can," she assured me as she rested her head on my shoulder again. "Go on, give it a go."
And so hesitantly, and buffeted by guilt for touching the legs of an unmarried girl, I took my left hand from the sling and starting at her ankle, began to massage her left leg. First I worked the Achilles tendon that joined the calf muscle to the ankle, and then worked my hand upwards, my fingers kneading the calf while my thumb dug into the muscle beside the shin bone. And as I worked, it occurred to me that although I thought had no idea how to massage her leg, it seemed second nature to my hand.
I worked my hand up to the back of her knee and gently massaged the pressure points there (and there was no way I was going to go higher than her knees) when her legs and arms began to twitch.
I looked down at her in surprise, and just as I suspected, she had fallen asleep.
I ceased massaging her legs since I felt uncomfortable touching them, and pondered all the things she had done since I had met her. Her meaningful glances, making obento for my lunch, the oden and udon for dinner, her gentleness in caring for me when I got wounded, even standing up to my father. All of these things had captured my attention and interest. But this - to be so innocent and trusting as to fall asleep on my lap - now she had gone and captured my heart as well.
I knew then that I wanted to be with her forever. And as I held her in my arms, I wanted to scream in frustration because of Newhome's rigid customs regarding marriage. Having spent my life expecting to be locked into a loveless marriage, it never occurred to me that I would meet a girl like Nanako. Was there anything I could do to be with her?
It occurred to me that if Nanako went back to Hamamachi, I could abscond while foraging and make the dangerous trek alone to Hamamachi to be with her there. However, with foraging called off indefinitely due to the Skel besieging our town, I may never get a chance to do that.
And should I do such a thing, not only would my father disown me, but I could never risk returning to Newhome, for I would be jailed for having run away. And that meant I would never see mother or my younger sister again.
Another thought popped into my mind - what if I could find a way to persuade my father to let me marry Nanako? It was an extremely long shot, especially in light of what had happened last night, and there was also the matter of the inexplicable animosity that had been displayed by my father and Nanako towards each other.
As I tried to dig my way through this impossible situation, my eyes grew heavy and I too fell asleep.
And began to dream.
Chapter Twenty
Although I was dreaming, my mind entered a state of utter clarity to the extent that it felt like I was actually experiencing the dream. It was January ’20, and I had only been out of school for several weeks – next month I would turn sixteen. I had run away from my foraging team and was currently prowling quietly along the front of an old, dilapidated factory in Lillydale, one of Melbourne's eastern-most suburbs.
Directly ahead of me and to the left was the factory’s weed and wild blackberry overgrown car park, in which a beaten old but functional ute was parked. It wasn’t the ute that interested me, however, but the sounds I could hear of four young people having a riotously good time – laughing, cackling, and shouting in a foreign language.
I was wary of them – as I was of everything out here in Melbourne’s ruins - yet at the same time irresistibly curious, for I could hear male and female voices together. So I crept quietly through the wild blackberries overgrowing the car park and climbed without making a noise onto the bonnet of the youths’ ute, where I sat cross-legged and settled down to watch them.
They were teenagers of a similar age to myself – there were two guys and two girls. And they were having a hoot of a time watching four small lizards racing through four narrow plastic pipes. Whenever a lizard popped its head out the wrong end, they would slap their thighs and laugh rather boisterously. The little lizards garnered a similar reaction when they appeared out of the far end but then disappeared back into the safety of the pipe before they could be caught.
I was most surprised and yet extremely fascinated to see girls outside their homes without their mothers to chaperone them, not to mention mixing with boys on even terms.
The shorter of the two girls must have spotted me from her peripheral vision, for she suddenly stood up and spun around to face me, her slightly upturned mouth open as she studied me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.
She was by far the strangest and yet most intriguing girl I had seen – not that I had seen that many – with her clothes and hairstyle at complete odds to those worn in Newhome. Her hair was jet black except for her fringe and some longer strands, which were died bright pink. She wore a black and blue zebra stripped jacket over a black top, a pink and blue lace skirt, torn and slashed pink leggings, black boots, and a dog collar with a silver bell around her neck.
"Hello," she said in English with a broad Australian accent.
"Hi," I replied.
"Have you been there long?" she asked, her dark brown eyes studying me intently.
I nodded. "A while."
"I didn't notice you come – are you by yourself?" she asked, glancing to either side.
"I can be pretty quiet, and yes, I’m alone."
Her three companions, who had become aware of my presence once the girl began talking to me, jumped to their feet and came to stand beside her, clearly worried. The taller girl was dressed similarly, while the boys wore jeans and t-shirts. The tallest boy hesitantly pulled out a gun and aimed it at me, but the first girl stretched out a hand and pushed it away.
"So what's your name?" she asked, peering out from beneath her pink fringe.
"Ethan."
"I’m Nanako. Where are you from?"
"From a town about a day's walk to the west of here," I answered.
"Really? So wh
y are you out here by yourself?"
"I kind of ran away," I replied, hoping the admission didn’t make me seem like an immature juvenile.
"From your family?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"No, not from them, from the town," I replied, thinking that should have been obvious.
Her eyes – which were encircled with thick, black eyeliner, opened wider in surprise. "You mean you can't come and go from your town as you please?"
"No, no one is allowed to leave the town."
"So how did you get away?" she queried, taking a step forward. It appeared she wasn’t wary of me any longer.
"I'm a forager. I go out of the town into Melbourne's ruins with a team to collect scrap metal. When no one was looking yesterday I ran off," I explained.
She took another step closer, smiling warmly now. "We're a foraging team too, you know. We collect old mobile phones and such. But hey, I bet you’re hungry. How’d you like to join us for lunch?"
"Sounds great," I said as I slid off the ute. The other three youths spoke to Nanako in worried, hushed voices in their own language for a moment, but she must have allayed their fears for they relaxed and joined her in fetching their lunches from the ute.
Nanako brought out a beautiful lacquered black lunch box wrapped in a handkerchief, and invited me to sit beside her as the four of them sat in a rough circle on the ground.
Feeling way out of my depth, I accepted her invitation and hesitantly sat beside her, where she gave me a rice-ball wrapped in paper-thin seaweed. I had never eaten rice before, and it tasted awesome - a refreshing break from potato and bread.
"My friends are Miki, Ken and Hiro, but they don’t speak English, I’m afraid," she said. "We're Japanese, by the way, from the town Hamamachi over near Inverloch."
I nodded politely to the other three Japanese youths, and they gave short bows in return. I reflected on my good fortune to have found such friendly people one day out of Newhome.
Forager (Forager - A Dystopian Trilogy) Page 14