Planet Urth

by Jennifer Martucci

  “We are going to go and bury my parents,” Will says solemnly.

  “Would you like us to help?” June offers. “Or would you like privacy?”

  Again, I am astounded by her poise and tact. She grows more amazing with each minute that passes. I realize I have so much to learn from her.

  Will smiles at June tightly. “Thank you for offering to help, but I think Oliver and I can handle it. But if Riley wants to stay with you, can she?” he asks.

  “Absolutely,” June answers brightly without missing a beat.

  Will turns to face Riley. “Would you like to stay here with Avery and June?” he asks. “Oliver and I are going back to the lake. We have to take care of Mom and Dad’s remains.”

  Riley’s eyes are wide and frightened. “I-I don’t want to see them as they are now. I want to see them how they used to look,” she says through tears. “But I want to stay with you.”

  “Then I will carry you and cover your eyes and you can wait in the cave while we work,” Will says tenderly. “Whatever you need me to do I’ll do, okay?”

  Riley bobs her head and lifts her arms to him. Will scoops her up. “We won’t be too long,” he says before turning and going back to the lake.

  When he is a far enough distance away and out of earshot, I drop my arms then slap my hand against my forehead. “I can’t believe what a jerk I was,” I say with a groan.

  “Avery, I don’t think what you said upset him. If anything, knowing he’s not alone will help him.”

  I hadn’t thought of that possibility. I just assumed that my blabbing would have nothing but negative effects all around. And while I am not totally convinced of June’s theory, I find it helpful.

  “Maybe,” I say with the exact amount of uncertainty I feel. “Still, I can’t believe I said all that. I mean, talk about terrible timing.” I shake my head.

  “Yeah, well, maybe the timing would have been better if you waited until later or tomorrow, but as I said before, I think you did more good than harm,” June says.

  I am astounded and impressed by her wisdom. “June, are you sure you’re only eight?” I ask in another unfiltered, random bout of blather.

  June giggles. It is a sweet sound that reminds me of when she was little.

  I smile at her. “After all you went through yesterday, last night, and today, I am amazed by how well you are holding up,” I admit honestly.

  With shining eyes in a powdery-blue shade that rivals the sky on a clear day, she tips her chin and looks directly at me. “I had a really great role model who taught me to deal with what life throws at me.”

  “Yeah, Dad was pretty great, wasn’t he?” I think of how levelheaded he always was, how calm and in control he remained at all times.

  “I am talking about you!” she says and smacks me on my arm lightly. She stomps her foot then places both hands on her hips. “Sheesh, don’t you even know how to take a compliment?” she asks me exasperatedly.

  I am taken aback by what she has said. “Me? I’m the role model you’re talking about?”

  “Yes, you dope! Who else would I be talking about? I was looking right at you.” She throws her hands in the air. They land against her thighs with a slapping sound.

  “First of all, where the heck did you get your temper from? And second of all, I thought you were talking about Dad because I am not half the role model he was. I kept everything bottled up forever, remember? I was too afraid to tell you anything,” I say then add, “and I am not a dope.”

  I wait for June to erupt and unleash the last few days’ worth of fear and anger on me. But she does not. In fact, her face is serene.

  “You’re right,” June says. Every bit of fire in her voice is extinguished. “You are not a dope. Not at all, in fact. You are smart and strong and an amazing hunter and an even more amazing fighter. You can do anything you set your mind to, Avery. And you take good care of me. All those things make you someone to look up to, the person I look up to and want to be like.”

  My throat tightens and my eyes burn again, but this time they are not tears born of sadness or shame, anger or frustration. This time, they are tears of gratitude, and pride.

  “Thank you,” I say in an unsteady voice.

  “No,” June says. “Thank you.”

  I allow a moment to pass between us as I blink feverishly and try to keep from crying.

  “My pleasure,” I barely manage.

  June smiles broadly then turns toward the lake. I take a moment to compose myself and at the same time, scan the woods for any sign of Urthmen. All seems quiet for now, but the day is slipping from us. I did not realize so much time had passed. Will and his brother and sister have been gone for a while, and June and I have been talking for quite some time. Time feels as though it is ticking faster than ever. We need to leave as soon as possible. We need to hurry if we want to make it to the cave before the Lurkers come out.

  “It looks like they are almost done down there,” June says quietly.

  I breathe a silent sigh of relief. I do not mean to be disrespectful in my thoughts, but the world we live in does not provide us time for anything. We are always running from something horrible, hoping we are headed toward something that will bring us comfort and solace. Moments of peace are rare and precious. And they do not last long.

  Will, Oliver, and Riley head up the hill with some of their belongings. Their moment has ended, and a new one begins.

  “Are you ready?” I ask Will.

  “I guess so,” he replies after a deep breath.

  I want to reach out and touch his arm and tell him that he will be okay, that his brother and sister will make it through this. But now is not the time, and standing in the middle of the woods where Urthmen just struck is certainly not the place.

  “All right then you guys can just follow us,” I say with a weak smile and wave them on.

  We walk and backtrack the trail June and I traveled to get to the lake. Our pace is brisk and I notice that Will is as vigilant as I am. His eyes sweep the landscape continually. The forest is filled with ordinary sounds. Birds flit from treetop to treetop. Leaves rustle, and squirrels and chipmunks scurry across our paths. The only added sound is the pleasant lilt of June’s voice as she tries to make conversation with Oliver and Riley.

  “Our cave is not huge or anything. It is cozy. And Avery and I have candles made from beeswax that we use at night. She usually leaves them lit until I fall asleep,” I hear her say.

  I strain to watch Will from the corner of my eye. A tiny smile pulls at the corners of his mouth. His smile becomes contagious. I feel a similar one begin to make its way across my lips. June has a charm about her that I never knew existed. And how could I have? We’ve been isolated for her entire life. Her gift has been kept under wraps. Now, though, as we walk and I hear her working her magic on Oliver and Riley, getting them to respond with tones that are remarkably upbeat considering their circumstances, I am blown away by her. She is my new role model in that regard. I will look to her when hoping for pointers on how to win them over and help them.

  We continue at our hurried speed and June captivates Will’s brother and sister with her magnetic personality. She has described our cave inside and out, has told them about the river we go to every morning and her incident with the boart that led to my incident with the mother boart. I notice she is careful to leave out the part about me getting entangled and almost eaten by the spidery monster and the Lurkers that we barely escaped. Neither Oliver nor Riley need to hear a story as disturbing as the one that unfolded last night. Even I would prefer not to hear it. The memory is just too frightening to relive. I can only hope that the Lurkers have moved on, that they don’t return again tonight.

  When we reach what I believe is the halfway point of our journey, I slow and take a quick glance at the children. The conversations have ended and the three of them look tired. I look at Will and take my cue from his expression.

  “I don’t know about everyone else, but I need
to stop and rest my feet for a minute,” I say.

  “Me too. Who else is with us?” Will asks.

  June, Oliver and Riley raise their hands.

  “It is unanimous, I guess,” he says to me.

  “Okay, how about we rest over there by those big flat rocks,” I say and point to a pair of stones that jut from the earth and are surrounded by bushes dotted with plump, yellowish-red berries.

  The children do not need to be told twice. They scramble for the opportunity to sit and beat Will and me there. The three of them sit on one rock while the other remains empty.

  Will sits first and slips the straps of his backpack from his shoulders. He places it between his feet and looks at me. My feet are throbbing and I want to sit, but the thought of being so close to him makes my insides tremble like leaves in a windstorm. But exhaustion triumphs and I make my way to the rock slowly before sitting.

  I notice his scent right away. Unfamiliar but pleasant and welcome, I am suddenly filled with his musk-and-sunshine scent.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he says and tears me away from the strange joy I am reveling in from simply sitting next to him.

  I pause for a moment and need to remind myself what he is talking about. I do not know why my mind feels so scrambled.

  “I don’t know how to do what my parents did, you know? I don’t know what to do for Oliver and Riley,” he says quietly.

  “You did great back at the lake when Oliver was about to smash the Urthman,” I say and feel as though the sun is blazing down on me from overhead when it is not.

  My clothes cling to my body. My skin is suddenly damp with perspiration. My calves complain from trekking all day as I tuck one leg under my bottom. I am suddenly very aware of Will’s close proximity. He reaches for his backpack and unzips it. As he does, his forearm brushes mine. His skin is fiery against mine, unexpected and yet so deliciously welcome despite the fact that I am perspiring as though I have been running in midday summer sun. I scoot aside ever so slightly, away from Will, for fear I will burst into flames if his skin touches mine again. I am suddenly parched. I reach for my canteen.

  As my fingertips graze the hard exterior, my thirst burgeons. I quickly open it and bring it to my lips. Cold water trickles down my throat as I greedily gulp. It is refreshing and cools me from the inside out. Some dribbles from the corner of my mouth. I try to whisk away the droplets with the back of my hand without Will noticing. I glance at him quickly and see that he drinks from his water bottle, too, but is far more refined about it, sipping rather than swigging as I did. When he finishes, he turns to face me. He bends his leg as he twists his body and his knee rests against my thigh. I feel heat bloom across my cheeks.

  “How did you do it?” he asks. “How did you care for June all by yourself for the last year?”

  I consider his question briefly before answering. “Truthfully, I have no idea. I know that’s probably not the answer you want to hear, but I just woke up every morning and did it. I rarely have a plan for anything. I take one day at a time, and some days, it feels like I can only take one breath at a time,” I admit. I hope I have made sense and that I have not said too much.

  “Yeah, I understand what you mean,” he says and looks directly into my eyes.

  I am lost in the swells of pastel blue and green as they blend seamlessly and undulate like ripples on a still lake. I have to remind myself to blink, to breathe. The moment quickly becomes one that I can only take a single quivering breath at a time. Words escape me and my heart plucks away at an unsteady rhythm inside my chest.

  Will scrubs his face with both hands and the hypnotic spell of his eyes is broken.

  “I just, I just can’t believe they’re gone,” he says and his voice cracks. “One minute my family was happy and fine and the next. . .” He allows his sentence to trail off.

  Sadly, I know exactly what he is talking about, what he is feeling. “I know,” I whisper.

  “The hurt,” he begins, but his ability to speak is strangled by loss.

  My hand darts out, acting without the authorization of my brain, and touches his forearm. His skin looks exactly as it feels: rich, almost velvety. He is hurting, suffering, and I know that my thoughts about his skin and the fact that I am touching him is inappropriate, but I am inexplicably powerless to stop myself. I want to comfort him, but do not know how. Words of consolation do not exist in the English language for what he and his brother and sister have been through.

  He looks at my hand on his arm then to my face. Heat zips like a laser beam from his eyes to my cheeks and sets them afire. I start to pull my hand away and am shocked when his long, slender fingers cover my hand and keep it there. My pulse quickens and a peculiar rush similar to hope gushes through my veins.

  “How do you work around it? How do you get through it and take care of June? Right now I can’t imagine anything other than how I feel right now.”

  His grip on the top of my hand tightens and I worry that when I try to speak, my words will come out in one breathless jumble.

  “It wasn’t easy,” I say honestly. “I mean, after seeing my mom,” I cannot say the word “killed.” I clear my throat and continue. “I still had my dad. But once he passed we were on our own.”

  Will lowers his head. “Oh,” is all he says feebly.

  “You will figure it out. You’ve already started. I saw it back at the lake,” I say. “And I will help any way I can,” I add.

  He lifts his chin and looks at me. “Thanks,” he says and offers a small, pained smile. He looks to the sky and I follow his eyes.

  “It’s getting late,” I comment on the position of the sun. “We’re only about halfway to our cave.”

  “I guess we should get going,” Will agrees.

  He releases my hand. I withdraw mine and delight in the puzzling tingling in my fingertips. He stands and turns to me. Golden light sluices through the forest canopy and kisses his deep-tan skin, illuminating his lustrous eyes, making both glow with unearthly radiance. Even his rich, dark hair has scattered highlights. He offers his hand to me and I take it unquestioningly. He helps me up. I did not need help, but the feel of his hand wrapped around mine again is welcome. Once I am on my feet he releases it, but not before giving it a slight squeeze.

  “Okay guys, we need to start walking again,” he tells Oliver and Riley.

  I nod to June. She stands and we resume our hike back to the cave. I lead the way and Will picks up the rear. The sun is dipping lower with every minute that passes. Dusk will be upon us before we know it. We must hurry if we want to avoid another massacre, one that none of us will survive. I am all too aware of the danger threatening all around us, Urthmen, Lurkers, both seem unavoidable. But as I walk knowing Will is behind me, my thoughts remain divided, split between the endless hazards that menace us continually and the endless possibilities of a future with our new friends.

  Chapter 14

  When finally we make it to the cave, Oliver, Riley, and June are exhausted. Will and I killed a rabbit each on the way home and roast both quickly before putting out the fire and settling inside the cave for the night. I show Will the boulder and logs and how the boulder fits perfectly against the mouth of the cave and how it is wedged in place by logs that extend to the far wall. He seems impressed by our security system. I used to be. But after the night June and I had with the Lurkers screeching and hissing as they scratched at the boulder, I am not so sure anymore.

  June has lit the beeswax candles and served dinner. We eat in silence, then the children, June included, lie beside each other. June wants to hear about Will, Oliver, and Riley’s lives before they moved to the cave by the lake.

  “Where did you live before finding the cave by the lake?” she asks. “Are there others out there, other humans like us?”

  “Yes, there are,” Will begins speaking. “Remember the people we met?” he addresses Oliver and Riley, prodding their memories. His rich, deep voice fills the space. His brother and sister nod.r />
  “We’ve met quite a few different people along the way,” he says. “Remember Calyx?” he says to just Oliver.

  Oliver shudders as if bugs are crawling over his skin and says, “Oh yeah, how can I forget her?”

  “Calyx was an old woman who lived underground with her daughters. They had survived attack after attack somehow and found us when we were out hunting.”

  “I screamed. She looked like a girl Urthman,” Oliver adds. His expression is grave. “She had only one eye that worked and it was droopy. Half of her face was like that. The other eye was all cloudy-looking and whitish. It rolled around and never focused.” Another tremor shakes Oliver, and he crinkles his nose as if he has smelled something unpleasant. Will shoots him a stern look and Oliver’s features smooth instantly.

  “That’s true,” Will says. “She had an unusual look about her. So when Oliver saw her, he started screaming. My mom and dad came running, ready to kill her, but her daughters rushed to help her. We saw them and realized they were human and that the old woman belonged to them.”

  I look at June. Her eyes are wide and her mouth is shaped like a small ‘o’. She looks captivated by Will and Oliver sharing a tale of other human beings living in our midst.

  “What happened next?” June asks. “Did anyone get hurt?”

  “No,” Will answers and rakes a hand through his short hair. “No one was hurt. My parents lowered their weapons and they all greeted each other.”

  “What about Calyx?” June persists. “Weren’t her feelings hurt because everyone mistook her for a female Urthman?”

  A chuckle passes through Will’s lips, an amazing sound I want to hear again. “I don’t think so,” he says. “We didn’t tell her what we thought. We kept our initial opinions to ourselves, especially after seeing her daughters.”

  “Oh wow,” June says dreamily. “That is so great. What about the daughters? Were they beautiful? They must have been,” June says.

  A strange sensation washes over me at her words. I feel agitated and threatened for no reason. I feel a blend of anger and sadness at the thought of Calyx’s daughters being beautiful, or more specifically, of Will thinking they are beautiful. I do not know what has come over me, why it would matter if he did or didn’t. My fists are balled in my lap. My nails are biting into my palms. I am waiting for Will to agree or disagree with what June has said with the same eagerness I anticipate a meal.