“I’m not stressed,” I said. “I’m me.“
“You’re holed up in your room, being antisocial. People are worrying about you, enough that it’s something I hear from five different people within two minutes of getting back. All of them are worried about you, Blake.”
“I’m fine,” I said. I somehow managed to sound less fine each time I said it.
He raised his hands, a placating gesture. “Great. I’ll take your word for it.”
We stood on the edge of the grass, where it overlooked beach and the small, dark lake under the pitch black sky.
“You came from a bad place,” he said. “I heard about your suspicions about the pregnancy.”
“Fancy that,” I said.
“It’s natural to have trust issues, coming from where you came from. But this is supposed to be a healthy place, Blake. A good place.”
“The problem’s all me, then. I’m just screwed in the head,” I said. The words came out bitter, not like I’d meant them to.
He sighed. “Something’s going on with you, Blake. You’re confrontational. Did you just stew in that room for the last week, convincing yourself something was wrong? That because this works, there must be something wrong at the center of it? Because I know what it’s like to think that way, Blake, I did when I was your age. I only want you to let that go, so you can enjoy life like I do.”
A group of people walked by. The new group, taking a tour with Fungus Face leading the way. She had a baby bump. The car trip to Toronto had been partially to get her to a doctor for necessary checkups.
“Bonfire for the new guys?” Fungus Face asked.
“Go for it,” Carl said.
Her face wasn’t so much fungus anymore. The horns were barely noticeable. A large portion of the strangeness to her features were a blush of green and purple to her pale skin, nothing more. So easy to ignore it, now.
On a level, I felt like I’d been here months. It was surreal, to have to remind myself of what was wrong. That this was a stage, with actors, a test.
Someone had to jog to catch up with the group. She was lagging because she’d stopped to try and light a cigarette in the cold. Her hair blew across her face, very nearly coming in contact with the smoking cigarette. Only her cupped hands stopped it.
I stepped forward, gingerly touching her hair to move it out of the way.
She successfully moved it back, and fixed it in place with her hat. She flashed me a funny little grin, cigarette clamped between her lips, not even showing a hint of her teeth.
Younger than I remembered her. On the tail end of a very unkind adolescence. She had bad pimples, patches of acne. Her longer hair was meant to cover most of it.
“Hey, Alexis.”
Her eyes widened in recognition as she saw me. She ducked her head down as she spoke, “I don’t remember your name.”
“Blake.”
“You know each other?” Carl asked.
“Crossed paths,” I said, nothing more.
“See ya,” she said. She ran to catch up with the others, snow flying behind her with each running footfall.
Carl and I walked a bit in the opposite direction, down to the beach.
“I only want to see you happy,” Carl said. “That’s it.”
“Uh huh,” I said.
“What’s your opinion on Alexis?”
I shrugged. Wary, I only said, “She’s cool.”
“That’s not very helpful. I want to know her as a person, and she’s hard to get a read on. A bit of an odd bird.”
“I like odd birds,” I said. “She had helpful advice a few times, we watched each other’s stuff in the one shelter. That’s all.”
Just a bit of a lie.
“Hamm’s Shelter?”
I didn’t respond.
He jammed his hands in his pockets. I watched the water, while he focused on the group unloading the truck. The headlights were on, lighting up the exhaust, giving the group a clear view of the unloading process.
“If you like types like her, could I ask you to maybe go out of your way to make her feel comfortable?”
I felt a cold knot in my gut.
“Make her feel comfortable?” I asked.
“Keep her company, pair off, show her how things work, the usual chores and feeding the animals?”
My skin crawled.
I felt vaguely nauseous.
“Pair off… like how you pointed Fungus Face my way?” I asked.
“Fungus Face,” he arched his eyebrows.
Breaking script, both of us.
“When I seemed jealous about Fungus Face and the other guys, you pointed Teeth my way. One by one, all of the girls. You sent the little sister to my bed the night I seemed unsettled about the pregnancy. Now you’re very subtly hinting for me to go keep Alexis company?”
“You’re making this out to be some screwy conspiracy,” he said. “The only time I’ve seen Alexis smile is when she looked up at you just now. And you said you liked her type.”
“That’s not-“
“What, Blake? Am I wrong?”
“You can’t just do that,” I said.
“Do what?“
“Manipulate us. Screw with us.”
“To make you happy?“
“So you’re admitting it,” I said, and there was anger in my tone.
“No, Blake,” he spoke the words as a sigh. “I’m trying to figure out what agenda you think I have. I’d rather solve the big question than the little one.”
“You’ve got this grand idea for this… I dunno, this commune, self-sustaining, whatever, free love, easygoing, away from the pressures of the world.”
“You’re making that out to be a bad thing?”
“I’m making your methods out to be questionable,” I said. “Pushing people, messing with them, always the group and what we need as a whole, you never give orders and you never seem like you’re doing anything major, but you’re really fucking good at steering the group against anyone who acts different. You did it to Fungus Face.”