On a level, though, I’d been terrified.
“Carl’s,” she said, “He’s the only one I didn’t… we didn’t use a condom. I can’t be positive.”
“It’s not a problem,” Carl said. “We’ll figure this out. This sort of thing takes a village, and that’s what we’ve been building all along, isn’t it?”
There were nods here and there.
The me of then was watching it, seeing the reactions, the way that Fungus Face was the last one to start nodding, and how she didn’t look any less upset.
In agreement, but not agreeing.
I met Carl’s eyes.
His gaze was cool, confident.
The peace of this place had been disturbed.
■
The cabin doors didn’t have locks. I was sleeping under heavy blankets, comfortably warm, when cold air swept into my room.
My first indication that I had a visitor was when my sheets moved of their own accord. A cold hand touched my back as a weight settled in under me.
“Jesus, you’re cold,” I said, turning. I stopped.
One of the newest to join. The sister from a brother-sister pair. Cute as a button, maybe two years younger than me.
“Hi,” she said. “Is this… a problem?”
When I didn’t respond, her hand touched my stomach, slowly moving down.
My hand fell on hers, stopping it where it was.
“After what happened to…” I couldn’t say Fungus Face, and the only two names in this shadow-place were Carl’s and my own. “After the pregnancy… this feels less cool.”
“We can be careful.”
“I’m saying no,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, her voice a hush. “Can I stay? It’s warm here, and I don’t want to walk back through the snow.”
“You can stay,” I said, reluctantly. I’d kind of been wanting quiet. Rest. It was hard to come by, at times.
She snuggled close to my back, warm, but all I felt was uncomfortable. Bothered in a way I couldn’t put my finger on.
“Carl said you were into me, that you’d been watching me, so I thought…”
“Another time, it would have been… very welcome,” I murmured. “But not now.”
“Okay,” she said. I heard a soft giggle. “Very welcome?”
“Very,” I said, but there was no warmth in the word. Even when the past me had said it.
Time passed. The wind made one bit of fencing rattle around the cow pen. Every time I heard it at night, I told myself I’d fix it, and then when morning came, there was always more to do.
When I spoke, the words were quiet. “Around the time… your friend invited you to come here, she was talking about going home for a bit. It was getting colder, and she wasn’t enjoying the experiment so much.”
The bit of fencing banged in the distance.
“Now she’s pregnant,” I said. “And everyone’s just assuming she’ll stick around. I’m not sure I like that.”
“If she went home, it’d be the same, wouldn’t it? Worse. Her parents would make her make a decision and she wouldn’t necessarily have a say.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Here, at least, she’s got the freedom to decide on her own,” she said, and there was a finality to her words, like she’d decided.
The present-day me wondered if past-me had believed her.
■
I heard a car door slam.
I’d been unsure how I’d feel, but when the moment arrived, I felt my heart sink.
“Heyyyy!” a voice.
“Heya!” Carl said. “I brought people!”
There were cheers, noises of greeting.
I sat on my bed, my knife cutting bits out of a stick. I was trying to get a figure out of the wood, but I’d yet to get a result I wanted. There was time.
Fifteen minutes passed. Carl pushed on the door, and the rock I’d put behind it stopped it from opening.
“Blake?” he spoke through the crack.
“Hi,” I said. “Sorry, I wanted privacy.”
I didn’t move to stand or move the rock.
“Blake, a lot of the others was saying you were feeling off.”
“Nope,” I said. “Feeling good. I’m just not feeling-“
I was cut off as he pushed the door, the stone I’d put down grinding against the wooden floor.
He entered my room, hand over his eyes.
“You’re not jacking off?” he asked.
“Nah,” I said.
“Because there are a lot of girls around who’d be happy to-“
“Not doing that either,” I said, cutting him off.
“Blake, is something wrong?” he asked. He dropped his hand and managed to look concerned. “I’m gone for a week and-“
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said.
“You are acting strange, Blake,” he said. “You’re not helping out, and others are shouldering the workload-“
“No,” I said. “I’ve gone above and beyond before, they can manage the slack for now.”
“We don’t treat work like a currency here.”
“I do,” I said.
He frowned.
I took a piece out of my stick.
“How can you even sleep in that bed?” he asked. Change of subject.
I looked down at the spikes of wood I’d carved off of sticks.
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You’ve got cabin fever. Come on, fresh air. I’m not one to give orders, but I’m ordering you right now.”
I hesitated, but he pointed, and I moved before I thought to do different.
I climbed out of the bed, stick and knife going on the squat bookshelf that served as my bedside table. I pulled on my worn boots with the glued sole that Carl had given me, then my jacket. We ventured outside.
The others were collectively unloading the truck. Beer, basic supplies, tools.
“This whole thing is supposed to be low stress,” Carl said. “You seem stressed, Blake.”