“Stop playing with the sand—start working!” He’s just as aggressive as ever. In the beginning I cringed and panicked every time he shouted at me, but now I’m used to his mean tone of voice. Still, I’d better do as he says, so I reach for the trowel so I can dig faster.
When the holes are deep enough, he passes me seed potatoes. I drop them in—it’s unbelievable that they can multiply into so many more. After that, we go to a well and fetch water to feed our plants. The outcasts dug their own well several years ago. That’s hard for me to believe when I see how deep it is. The water glimmers dimly far below. The bucket dips into it with a splash, and in a moment I, too, long for a bath as the sweat runs down my back. Slowly I am getting used to the hot spring. I like it how the tiny bubbles caress my skin, and I like the feeling of being surrounded by water. The very best thing is to dip my head under.
It’s easy to pull up the bucket with the winch, but carrying it is hard for me. It’s so full, so heavy, that little splashes fall over the edge as I walk.
Finn has less trouble with it. He carries the bucket as if it is a game. And he’s got enough energy left over to look me up and down, eyebrows raised. “Look out, you’re tipping out all the water!” he growls. Well, I knew that was coming. He loses no opportunity to humiliate me.
“I’m doing my best!” I hiss back, huffing. The bucket’s metal handle cuts into my hands, but I don’t want to give Finn the pleasure of seeing me set it down or even dropping it. I keep going.
Suddenly, someone reaches from behind me and grips the heavy weight. Surprised, I turn around and look into Paul’s friendly green eyes. “I can’t stand to watch you exhaust yourself like that.” He grins at me and carries the bucket over to Finn, who’s already watering the plants. “You’re a true gentleman, letting a lady carry such a heavy weight.”
“I don’t see any lady here,” comes the cold answer immediately.
I don’t care.
Paul tilts his head disapprovingly, but resists making further comment. Before he goes, I thank him. Without him and Florence, I would be at the mercy of Finn’s attacks. The others are all nice to me, but they don’t really intervene when Finn harasses me. I guess they don’t want to get in his bad books.
Sometimes I’ve tried to be extra nice to him even though he’s so mean, but that only made him angrier. So I prefer to ignore him.
After the planting is done, we go to where Gustav is harvesting berries with Emily and Iris. As soon as she sees me, Iris glows and skips over to me. “Cleo, try this!” she calls happily, and reaches out her hand. It’s dirty from the work, and daubed with the red juice of the berries, but two small fruits lie in her palm. Smiling, I take one and put it in my mouth. It tastes sour, but I like how it prickles on my tongue. Definitely delicious—like everything I’ve eaten here so far. “It’s a bit like the pink tablets, isn’t it?”
Iris nods enthusiastically. “They’re called canbeddies.”
“Cranberries!” calls the petite, red-haired Emily in a smart-alecky voice. She’s eating the little berries too. Her nose is covered in little brown spots, and it makes her look cheeky.
Iris laughs and reaches her hand, with one berry in it, to Finn. “You want one too?”
Finn hesitates a moment, but then he looks at Iris with the same angry expression he usually saves for me. “Are you seriously offering me my own food? You should ask permission before you give away things that belong to other people.”
That’s enough now! “And you should be ashamed of yourself, talking to her like that!” Iris is just a child, he’s got no right to treat her so.
His eyes go wide and the vein in his neck throbs. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that again, or I’ll put you back in your cell.”
I’m not afraid of his threats. “How about don’t you dare talk to my sister like that again!”
“Or what?” His tone is full of contempt.
“All right, enough now,” says Gustav. When he sees how sad Iris is, he smiles at her. “Don’t listen to that bully, I think the sun is addling his brain. Keep on picking berries with Emily. Later you can bake a pie with Marie, she’ll like that.”
Iris nods, a little afraid, before Emily takes her hand and pulls her behind the bushes. They’re hardly gone when Gustav’s expression becomes angry. “Boy, why are you behaving so badly? It’s like I don’t know you at all!”
Finn only shrugs and looks away defiantly. When Gustav speaks to Finn, I realise Finn is hardly any older than me, even though he behaves like he is. With Gustav around he seems like a little boy who feels guilty and lets himself be scolded.
“What do you think these two girls must think of you? You’re behaving like a monster—your mother would be horrified.”
“My mother’s dead and it’s their fault!” Finn shouts at Gustav, and points accusingly at me. Tears sparkle in his eyes, taking my breath away. It’s almost a miracle to see Finn so vulnerable. He always seems so hard and cold that I almost forgot it’s possible. When he notices his own tears, he retreats hastily and strides back to the caves without another glance at me.
Gustav lays a hand on my shoulder. “Please don’t hold it against him. The boy lost his whole family.”
I nod sympathetically, which would probably make Finn even madder. I never had a family, no mother, no father. But if I imagine things being different and then losing them, the pain would be unbelievable. Even the thought of losing Iris makes my heart throb painfully. I wonder why he thinks it’s our fault, though?
Since Finn has gone, I find Paul and Florence, who are cutting big stalks out of the ground. “Can I help you two?”
“Surely, dear one,” calls Florence in her kind way, and presses a small knife into my hand. “Come, it’s best done on your knees. This is rhubarb, we’ll make a delicious pudding from it. Cut the stems with the knife, like this.” She shows me how she does it, so it’s easy for me to imitate the movement.
“What was up with Finn?” asks Paul, as casually as he can.
“He was mad at me.”
“Well, that’s nothing new,” hisses Florence as she cuts up the stems I pass her.
“I’m sure he’s trying really hard.” Paul tries to stand up for his friend, but there is no mercy in Florence’s eyes.
“To do what? To be particularly obnoxious?”
In that moment, Finn himself appears right in front of us. His golden hair is hidden under a dark brown cap that throws a shadow over his eyes, so that only his grumpy mouth can be seen. I expect a sharp comment from him, but instead he takes one of the knives and kneels down next to me on the sandy earth, without a word.
He’s not working quite so frantically as before, but seems to be making an effort to match my speed. Our arms side by side are a conspicuous contrast: his skin is tanned from the sun, while mine shines bright white. My skin looks so thin that blue veins are visible in my forearms.
When his bare arm touches mine accidentally, it’s as if an electric current shoots through my body. His skin is pleasantly warm, but mine is like ice. No wonder that he thinks I’m a monster, accusing me for being here instead of D523. Her skin is just as warm as his.
Usually I like to keep as much distance between us as possible, but now I’m longing for his warmth. Even though the sun is beating down on us and the sweat is running down my back like a river, I suddenly feel cold. As if by accident, I touch Finn’s arm with my elbow. Goosebumps spread up my arms and tickle my neck. It’s such a pleasant feeling, something I’ve never felt in my life before. I knew about goosebumps before, of course, but only as a sign of fear or disgust—never something so beautiful.
The strangest thing is that Finn isn’t reacting to my “accidental” touches. He’s just letting them happen, apparently without noticing. Not flinching back, not shouting at me.
Soon we’re working so close together that my upper arm presses against his. For the first time I recognise his scent. Admittedly it’s the sour stink of sweat, like we all have in th
is heat, but also somehow he smells like rain. That’s exactly what it smelled like in the forest when I was running away, just before the storm broke out.
A sharp pain makes me gasp and jerk back. Blood flows from the palm of my hand and spills onto the rhubarb stems. My stomach flutters. I tremble and look at my hand, where a deep cut in the palm is the source of the dripping blood. Clumsily, I fall to my rear, while the sounds around me become a confused mess. There’s a roaring in my ears and the world starts to blur before my eyes. I can only stare at the blood in my hand. Blood means danger, war and death.
“I don’t believe it! How stupid can one person be?” It’s Finn’s voice, as if from a great distance.
“Can’t you see she’s about to collapse?” Florence hisses back.
Someone lifts me from the ground and the world spins around me.
The gentle sounds of picked guitar strings pierce into my consciousness. For a moment I just listen, and my inner eye shows me Florence laughing. She always looks so nice and happy. Thinking of Florence makes me remember the blood in my hand. Worried, I force my eyes open and sit up, only to groan at a burning in my temples. I squeeze my eyes shut again.
“Oh dear. That’s what Pep always looks like the morning after he’s stolen Gustav’s wine,” says Jep cheerfully.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” answers Pep, equally amused. “The morning after, you look like Gustav.”
Carefully I open an eye and peer at the two. Pep holds the guitar on his lap, and Jep watches me curiously, although his black curls are almost blocking his sight. Slowly I open the other eye and see that I’m in the cave bedroom I share with Iris.
Pep starts playing his guitar again. Jep makes up words and sings.
“Sleepyhead, you’re finally awake, you’ve slept all night. Sleepyhead, don’t look at me like that, we got rid of Finn for you!”
His words get a smile out of me. Worried, I look at my hand. It’s wrapped in a thick pink bandage.
“The pink was Florence’s idea. She probably thought she’d add a bit of ‘pep’ to your outfit.”
“Then it would be green, not pink, you idiot,” answers Pep, pretending to be angry as he indicates his green shirt.
“Pink would suit your character much better, Twin.”
Before the two of them can banter any more, I clear my throat. “What actually happened? I only remember that I was bleeding.”
“Women do that once a month.” Jep grins. I don’t know what he means, but I’m too shy to ask.
“You’re an idiot, really. If you keep on like that we’ll never find a wife.”
“We? I’m not sharing with you! Have you got a screw loose?”
This time it’s Pep who clears his throat, embarrassed. “Sorry, Cleo. Well, you cut your hand harvesting rhubarb, and then you fainted, like a proper lady.”
I remember that much. But what happened then? How did I get into my room? I remember someone lifting me up. For a moment I imagine it might have been Finn, then I catch myself.
“Paul brought you here, and Florence whacked Finn on the noggin.”
“I don’t believe it! How stupid can one person be?”—an echo in my head. That was Finn. He hates me. He’d never carry me.
“So now we’re your babysitters.”
Pep starts to pluck at his guitar again, and Jep jumps up and down. “Little Cleo has a sore bum, but she’s still happy, so, um...Little Cleo doesn’t like dresses, but she’s still...”
“And now, Mr. Poet?” Pep needles his twin again.
“...Growing tresses,” finishes Jep, grinning broadly at me. His words make hardly any sense, but they still make me laugh. A lot.
“Now you’ve done it, she thinks we’re clowns—not rockstars,” Pep comments, also grinning. I notice he’s got dimples in his cheeks, unlike Jep.
“Women like men who make them laugh, isn’t that right, little Cleo?”
“I don’t know,” I answer, uncertain, because I don’t want to snub anyone, and I know nothing about love, anyway.
“Oh man, now you’ve embarrassed her. Look how red her cheeks are!” Pep is razzing his brother, but me along with him. Surprised, I lay my cold fingertips on my glowing hot cheeks. It’s true. This has never happened to me before.
“It only makes her prettier,” answers Jep, and winks at me cheekily. Strangely, he seems to mean it. Or maybe he’s just being kind, because I’m certainly no prettier now than I was a couple of days ago.
“Please, stop it,” I beg them, and try to stay serious although they’re being so silly. I look to the door to see if Finn is out there as usual. But there’s no one there.
When Pep sees my glance, he grins even wider. “He won’t dare to come back here in a hurry. Florence sent him hunting in the forest...”
“...and no one would dare disobey our little sister. She has a really sharp tongue.”
I throw the question into the room that has been circling in my head for days now. “Why is it that Finn can’t stand me?” I understand that he doesn’t want to welcome me with open arms, as the others have done, especially because I don’t want to be here and he knows it. But that’s not all. Finn hates me.
“Our boy Finn is offended that you’re faster than him,” explains Jep.
Pep agrees. “He can’t handle not being the best at something.”
Confused, I wrinkle my brow. “Faster?”
“When you ran off, none of us could catch you. You ran like the devil, and barefoot, too. We lost sight of you and gave up, only Finn kept searching.”
“You can thank him that you’re sitting here now and not slaving for the Legion in the safety zone,” adds Jep, then he grins and corrects himself. “Okay, so you’re slaving for us, but believe me, it’s better here. At least we have proper food. I’ve heard there’s going to be cranberry pie today.
To think that I could have been back at home for days already, and Finn was the only one who stopped me, makes me grow angry at him. How could I ever have sympathy for him? He’s just mean.
“Whether you believe it or not, Finn can be a fun guy sometimes. Most of the time he’s an annoying smart-aleck, he thinks he has to be the best at everything.”
“And anything he can’t do, he thinks it’s unimportant. Do you know what he calls our music? A racket! Hard to believe, right?” The two of them are talking themselves into a rage and can hardly stop their anger at Finn.
“He’s incredibly miffed that you, a girl, and one from the safety zone on top of that, almost got away from him.”
“He’s probably training at night again, so no one can see him, to make sure he’s better than you.” Pep giggles.
“Zoe caught him once with his shirt off, admiring his muscles in the mirror. After that, everyone laughed at him,” Jep remembers, laughing.
Wait...“Zoe?” I’m confused. I haven’t heard that name before. Maybe she’s one of the many people I have yet to meet in this confusing place.
Pep’s eyes widen in horror and Jep slaps his hand over his mouth, saying no more than “Oops.”
“Who’s that?”
They stare at each other, perplexed, obviously struggling with themselves. I can tell they want to say more. It’s burning on their tongues.
“Zoe isn’t here any more. She’s somewhere else.” Pep hedges.
Jep elbows him hard in the side. “Shut up, or Finn will have our heads.”
“I won’t tell him you told me. Where is Zoe now?”
Jep shakes his head apologetically. “Sorry, Cleo. It’s not like we don’t want to tell you, and we’re not scared of Finn, but it’s his business. Maybe he’ll tell you himself someday.”
I doubt it. Jep knows just as I do that it’s highly unlikely Finn will ever tell me anything of his own free will. It’s a miracle if he even talks to me without shouting.
Together, the twins stand and leave, but after Jep is gone, Pep bends down to me and murmurs in my ear. “Zoe is where you come from.”
I sti
ffen. That must be it. Zoe is D523. The girl who should be here instead of me. The girl no one’s allowed to talk about. The girl who means so much to Finn. But what is their relationship? Were they maybe ‘together’, like Paul is with Florence?
When Grace comes to get me for dinner that night, she claps her hands over her mouth in shock. Iris and Emily giggle quietly.
“Oh no! Cleo, why didn’t you say something?” She sounds worried, but I don’t know what she’s talking about. My cluelessness must be visible to her. “Isn’t your skin burning? You’ve got a sunburn!”
Perplexed, I look at my bare arms. Okay, they’re a bit tight and slightly red, but what’s so bad about that?”
“We’ll have to get cream on you before the skin starts to peel,” she says, alarmed, then leaves me alone with the two girls.
“What is a sunburn?” I ask them, uncomprehending. “Is it a sickness?”
Emily shakes her head and smiles at me as if I am younger than her. “No, it’s what happens to people with pale skin when they spend too much time in the sun.”
“It’s really not that bad. I had it in my first days too.” Iris tries to cheer me up, and strokes my shoulder, which in fact does burn a little at her touch.
“You look like a lobster,” says Emily seriously, and blows strands of red hair out of her face. Neither Iris or I know what a lobster is, so we just shrug.
Grace returns, armed with a small jar, and presses it into Iris’s hand. “Here, you have to do a good job of rubbing this on your big sister, promise?”
Iris nods proudly, because she gets to take care of someone now. She grins at me. “Don’t worry, Cleo. I’ll put so much cream on you that your skin won’t dare peel.”
After dinner I take my shirt off so that Iris can put the cream on more easily. I’m not so ashamed in front of her, because she’s still a child, and her skin is almost as pale as mine.
The Outcast Ones Page 9