I sensed we were heading downhill.
He stopped suddenly and I thought we were at our destination but then he changed direction and kept walking.
It started to cool slightly, and the light against my eyelids was softer. Joseph’s footfalls were softer too, hitting dirt now instead of asphalt. I could smell damp, sodden earth and pine. And fire. I smiled, the plan coming together in my mind.
“We’re here. You can open your eyes,” Joseph said. He wasn’t out of breath in the slightest. His tone even, his breath steady. How did he manage it? I marveled at his strength.
I opened my eyes to a circle of pine trees.
Joseph leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “I hope this is all right. I wanted to bring you back, show you…” His voice was a rumble; it shook my chest, my heart, delightfully, like the words were in me.
I cut him off, “It’s perfect, thank you.” The light was filtering through the pine needles, creating sharp, crisscross shadows on the forest floor. The woods looked more like I remembered. The snow had indeed receded. There were a few icy patches but spring was slowly announcing itself.
Joseph lowered me to my feet gently but never took his hand off me. And unfortunately, I needed steadying. My head was still sore and my arm made everything awkward. I knelt down and held my palms to the small fire. It radiated warmth that seemed to reach out and engulf us both. I was glowing.
We sat together and I nudged him with my shoulder. Memories flooded through me and around me, some flying like open-mouthed ghosts swirling in a circle and some living in me, breathing with my every breath. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me even closer. I looked up and watched the fire dance in his beautiful eyes. The trees leaned in to hear us, to hide us from the outside. We were part of this landscape.
“Rosa, I love you.” His earnest expression broke my heart but in a good way.
I nodded. My eyes wet. Love. The words were easy. What I felt was beyond that, and I didn’t know how to say so.
“Do you think we’ll make it?” I said casually.
“What do you mean?” he asked, his eyes wide. “I think we have some challenges ahead of us. The Woodland soldiers are coming, but I think the Survivors have a plan. I don’t think we will be caught out like we were at the mounds.”
That’s not what I meant, but his words were heavy. I’d been so caught up in my own problems, I’d forgotten about the threats looming over the whole community. There were big issues we needed to face. The Woodland threat was like an infiltrative disease. It was creeping its deadly shadow slowly across the landscape and soon it would reach us. I imagined dark, pointed fingers impaling the fleeing people. Did they really understand what they were up against?
I took Joseph’s hand and traced over his knuckles one by one. I heard him sigh.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. I’m just so glad this hasn’t changed. I was so scared that things would be different between us, after… but they’re not.”
I kissed his hand and stared into the fire. It was simple in there, in the flames. All or nothing. Consume or be consumed. Was I changed? Not in that way at least. I loved him the same. No, I loved him more. Always more. The rest? I didn’t know what it had done to me yet.
“Tell me more about what’s happening in the Woodlands,” I said.
Joseph rested his head on the top of mine and paused. Then he pulled the backpack towards him. From it, he produced some food and spread it out on a blanket. He filled a pan with water and set it on the coals. “You should eat,” he said in his doctorly tone.
I took some bread and smeared jam on it. Finding his eyes, I urged him to tell me more but he seemed hesitant.
“What is it?”
“Don’t jump at this,” he said carefully, “but they’re going to the Woodlands in a couple of weeks.”
“What, why?” I said, barely able to keep the desperate tone from my voice.
“They’re retrieving the Spiders,” he said.
We ate in silence for a while. I knew he was watching me, trying to peer into my brain and see what I was thinking. And what was I thinking? Exactly what he feared… If they were going back, then this was my chance. My toes were tapping in agitation.
But before I could form a plan in my head, Joseph swept it away. He didn’t ask me what I was planning to do. He didn’t make me promise not to go. He just put his hands on both my shoulders and squared them so I was facing him directly. He stood and I stood with him, his arms directing me like a wooden puppet. His mouth was flat but his eyes were dancing, the green flourishing, the gold flecks sparkling like fireworks and drawing me in. He moved me gently but deliberately so that my back was against a tree and then he sunk his mouth into my neck and crept his lips up to my ear.
I found myself fighting him, because he was making it take too long. I wanted his mouth, the taste of it on my own. He finally found me and I was awash in him, in the golden bands that bound us and held us to each other. Wherever my train of thought was heading, I missed it. It was gone and, in that moment, I couldn’t have cared less.
We stayed by the fire until it became too dark too see the forest around us, enveloped in each other’s arms and company. This was exactly right and I didn’t want to leave, even if it was a false feeling. But, reminded of the great, striped creatures that stalked the night, we poured our cups of tea onto the fire and headed back to the hospital.
Matthew wasn’t there but the nurse told us he said I could go home.
She handed me a bottle of pills and a bag containing the clothes I’d worn that night. She told me I would have to come back to have the cast removed in two weeks.
I nodded and Joseph and I walked home hand in hand.
Home. I craved it and dreaded it at the same time. But when we got there, it looked the same as always. Its cracked and weathered shingles creaked in the cold. Its open shutters blinked at me and welcomed me in. It was just a building, and the violence and chaos it had housed were gone. I treaded lightly over the stone path and took the steps two at a time. Standing at the doorway, I watched the house sigh and expel the menace. It whirred out the opening and soared into the sky. Gone.
Orry cried out. The warmth of the woodstove poured over me like a wave. I heard Deshi creaking over the floorboards and calming Orry with his smooth voice. And I knew it was still home. My home.
I slipped comfortably back into my home like a familiar, worn shoe. Deshi showed me how to make up a bottle for Orry, a process that was clumsy and time consuming. But I had to shake off the things I couldn’t control. Like dry leaves clinging to a coat, they floated to the ground and I stepped on them with a satisfying crunch.
I caught up with Deshi at the door while Joseph was changing Orry’s nappy.
I grabbed his arm and, for once, he didn’t shrink away. “Deshi, thank you. You’ve been a better friend than I deserve. I… I hope this hasn’t been too hard on you.” I knew my words were a bit incomplete but what could I say? I’m sorry if Joseph and I playing house is difficult for you?
He put his hand on my shoulder and patted it. “You know what? If you had died, that would have been hard. Watching what happened to him when he saw you lying there in front of the door… Rosa, I’ll never forget that face. I know things haven’t been easy between us but I am glad you’re ok. I want him to be happy.” Deshi eyes moved to Joseph struggling with Orry’s kicking legs as he tried to fasten the gurgling baby’s nappy.
It was rather inadequate but I said, “I really want you to be happy too.”