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Authors: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

The Woodlands (29 page)

BOOK: The Woodlands
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After a couple of days walking, we started scouting for a position for a hut and store. I put together a rough house plan, using the surrounding timbers as a starting point. We needed somewhere flat, which possibly backed onto a hill, and hopefully faced the morning sun.

Low, grass-covered
mounds dominated the scenery like a voluptuous woman had laid down and pulled a green blanket over her body. Small patches of woods sprouted up like green-brown birthmarks on the land. It was a gentle and inviting, although I could imagine it was very different once covered in snow.

We chose to build
against the shelter of a low hill. It was stupidly idyllic, with a creek running through the valley and plenty of well-shaped adolescent pines that would make perfect logs for a cabin. The construction would be simple. The boys would cut the trees and drag them to the site. I would carve the notches in the logs and shape wooden pegs to secure each log to another. Apella and Careen would pack every crevice with mud and collect stones for a fireplace. At this, Apella’s smooth as silk face scrunched up unappealingly. I smirked at her and rubbed my hands together. Hands that were itching to get dirty.

Once we started,
we quickly got into a rhythm, working in unison to achieve this one goal. Apella stopped talking about survivors and settlements. Deshi, Joseph, and I took turns caring for Hessa while working and Alexei flapped about, occasionally being useful, but more often than not just getting in the way.

Hessa was changing daily. Changing from a baby to a little person.
As we worked, he would lie on a rug and happily gaze at the sky, kicking his chubby little legs in excitement. He had his mother’s temperament, always smiling, hardly ever crying. He adapted easily.

We walked into the forest every day. It was wonderful not to be trudg
ing down the same line. We meandered down different paths, stopping whenever we pleased to examine something or collect some food. I started to teach Joseph about the different fruits and nuts we needed to store. He wasn’t a very good student, listening to half of what I had to say before pinning me against a tree, burying his face in my hair and kissing my neck. Driving me crazy. He was very good at this, and I was very good at being distracted. To a point. There always seemed to be a moment where something would clamp down inside me and I had to stop him.

 

 

The cabin was nearly finished.
It had been two and a half weeks and the basic structure was done. I stood back and appraised it, casting my eyes over the dark wood and dripping mud. It was a bit wonky, leaning into the wind like it was listening for a secret, but it was solid, strong. It had no shutters or a door yet, but it would be comfortable. The fireplace was half-finished, made of stones and clay mud. I tapped my finger on my chin absently; I needed to ask Careen to focus less on hunting and more on the fireplace. We needed that done if we were to stay warm over winter.

 

 

The sun pulled back like an eyelid over a blue iris, streaks of light skipping over the craggy bark of the pine log I was planing. I ran my hand over it, enjoying the splintering feeling, the coarseness. My arm tugged backwards and I lost balance. Joseph pressed his hands into my back and steadied me. I squinted up at his shadowed face.
“Want to go for a walk?” I nodded eagerly. The time for us to be alone was coming to a close; there would be no privacy when we were holed up in the cabin for days or weeks at a time.

I looked down
as we walked, I couldn’t see my feet anymore, but I noticed the leaves were starting to change color and drop to the forest floor. The seasons were changing. I scooped up various plants and seeds as we moved, examining them in my palm. Tossing some away and stuffing others in the brown leather bag I had brought with me from the ruined city. I found my knowledge was pretty limited. I would bring things back to the hut; we’d examined them, weigh up the risk of trying them, but most we threw away. We could do nothing if one of us was poisoned.

Joseph bent down and picked up a
pinecone off the ground. He swung around, asking me the question he always asked, “Eat or don’t eat?” His eyes glinting with mischief.


Eat,” I replied.

Joseph
opened his mouth to bite the pinecone.


Not like that,” I laughed. I took it from his hand and showed him how to pull the edible nuts out of the woody, brown spikes. I handed him one. He ate it, screwing up his nose.


I think I prefer the grey stuff,” he said, scratching his arm unconsciously.


Well, you better get used to it. If there’s no light, it will be nuts and berries,” I lectured, shaking my index finger at him.

He wrapped his hand around my finger and bent his head down to catch my eyes. I shivered under the intensity of his gaze.
“Don’t forget the dried meat,” Joseph teased, knowing it would annoy me for him to talk about Careen’s contribution to our food stores. She proved to be quite a good hunter, bringing back rabbits and birds, which she carved up with frighteningly good skill, drying strips of them over the fire. She also collected piles of pelts, which would be useful for warmth over winter. I appreciated everything she did, but I found her intimidating. In the back of my mind, I worried about how much she seemed to enjoy the killing. At least, she had stopped rubbing herself up against Joseph like a cat starved of attention. Mostly because he had told her, kindly but firmly, that he wasn’t interested. I guess it was better than the solution I had played out in my head, where I jumped on her and scratched her eyes out. Joseph only found my irritation with her amusing and he seemed to enjoy bringing it up just to get a reaction out of me.


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.

Jos
eph 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.”

H
e 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 Jo
seph 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.

 

BOOK: The Woodlands
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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