I tried to recede to the point where nothing could reach me, but something was always tugging, pulling at my shirt, trying to drag me back into the light. But without her, the light was dull, insipid, lying over the forest like a silty blanket.
For weeks, I stayed inside myself. Joseph tried to coax me out, but even he stopped trying after a while. On the twenty-third day, I heard words. My head rose above the waves of my grief and I heard them talking.
Apella was cooing to the child.
“You’ll make a wonderful mother to little Gabriel,” a stuttering voice said lovingly. Gabriel?
I kicked my feet, trying to keep my head above water a little longer.
“Thank you, darling, you will make a wonderful father too.” Apella’s sweet voice was like a booming bell, reverberating and hurting my ears.
“His name is Hessa,” I said, my voice a tiny crackle.
Everyone stared. Apella sheltered the child in her arms, like she thought I was going to hurt him. I wasn’t going to hurt him. The couple was sitting, cradling the child under a tree. It was a spring sapling that was bending and swaying in the breeze, making shushing noises as the leaves grazed each other. Apella was holding a bottle full of grey liquid, which the baby was sucking. My head fractured as I thought of our grey milkshakes.
The trees were no longer grey, the color returning slowly. Green leaves touched by sunlight. I moved towards the couple on my hands and knees, aware that Joseph was behind me, shadowing my movements. I sat back on my heels and gently folded the grey blanket they had wrapped him in away from his face. He had springy, black hair, caramel-colored skin, and big blue eyes. He looked just like her and nothing like her at the same time. He was definitely All Kind. But it was there, that light had passed to the child. It shone in and around him, protecting him, announcing him as Clara’s son. I held out my arms. Apella shook her head. But Joseph was right there. So was Deshi.
“Let her hold him,” he said quietly but with force. Deshi was standing next to Joseph, looming over Apella with a stern look on his face. They both knew I would never hurt the child. I think Apella knew it too—that wasn’t the reason she didn’t want me to hold him.
Apella gently handed the bundle to me, uttering “careful,” as she let go of the child painfully slow. I peered at his face, pulling one of his arms out of the blanket and letting him wrap his fingers around my own. That touch wrapped around me like a bright white chain, binding me light as a feather but strong. I knew this child was mine. I was his family now.
“Hessa,” I whispered as I traced his tiny lips with my finger. I turned to Apella and Alexei’s pleading faces. I did not relish the disappointment I was about to bestow upon them. “You know you can’t keep him,” I said plainly, not meaning to repeat the words I had spoken to Clara back when we were underground. After everything she had done, what she had kept from us, this was not Apella’s redemption. She was not his family and had no place in his life. I knew now why Clara had named me her sister.
Apella didn’t speak. For the first time, that perfect facade contorted as she burst into tears. It lasted all of thirty seconds, then she patted her tears, straightened her clothes, and walked away. Alexei followed.
I held the child, not overcome by the decision I had made. It was simple. It was fact. It was the easiest thing I had ever done. I felt two distinct hands on my shoulders.
“Welcome back, zombie,” Deshi said with a grin. He looked tired and thin.
“I’m sorry,” I said, without looking away from Hessa. “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
“Don’t be sorry. We’re just glad you’re back,” Joseph said, smiling. “So you’re a mother now.” There was a hopeful glint at the end of his sentence and I knew what he was thinking, but I wasn’t sure this changed anything.
“No. Not a mother, an aunt,” I said, already feeling something absolute solidifying inside me, love. Joseph shrugged, seeming to accept that was all I could manage for now. He ran his hands through my hair and tied it back with a piece of twine, my skin buzzing from that barest touch.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a bubble of that liquid gold pushing through my veins. I looked at his earnest eyes, green with flecks of gold, and wondered if he would always be this patient with me. If I pushed him away now—would he come back? I held out my free hand for him to hold, which he took eagerly but gently. It was an uphill battle and the gold rose and receded, not quite able to push past the pain.
“Are you all right?” Joseph asked. I looked down at Hessa. The baby blinked uncomfortably as drops of water hit his perfect little face. I thought it was rain at first, quickly realizing they were tears. For the first time since I had watched my sister slip away, I cried. I rocked the child and let it all out. I saw her face as she left me; I saw her face in her son. But it was not painful to see him. It was comforting. She would always be here with us, in him. The boys sat back and let me go until I could cry no more, my face red and salty.
Hessa was sleeping. Peaceful. He was unaware of our journey. For him, home was under the trees. He had never seen the grey walls of Pau or the Classes, never seen the towering, concrete prison of the rings. He could have a free childhood. It was an exciting prospect and it motivated me even more than before.
Joseph filled me in on what I had missed. We had covered a lot of ground but there was still a lot ahead of us. Looking around, it seemed the scenery had opened up a lot. We were sitting at the edge of a field, tall grass and saplings dominating the landscape. It was much flatter than before and it made me feel exposed.
“Have there been any more choppers?” I asked. I felt foolish for not knowing, for being so unaware of my surroundings.
“No,” Deshi replied. He was preparing a bottle, spooning the grey sludge from the box in and watering it down, giving it a sharp shake.
Hessa awoke with a start, screaming. I panicked—had I done something? Deshi saw the fright in my eyes and answered my question.
“He’s hungry,” Deshi said as he opened his arms. I gently handed the child over and watched as Deshi adeptly fed and changed the child. He played with him for a while and then rocked him to sleep, placing him, tightly wrapped, in an emptied-out backpack. He looked at the child with a love that was unmistakable.
Joseph laughed at me, which I didn’t appreciate. “It’s just a baby, Rosa. You don’t need to be afraid of it. It cries, eats, and needs to be changed.” I had a bit of catching up to do. “Don’t worry, we’ll all help you.”
Hessa now had three parents.
Apella returned, her face composed but shaky, her lip quivering unappealingly as she spoke. “I know I can’t keep him. I know I don’t deserve him but I want to help. Will you let me help you?” She was humbled to the point of begging. I wanted to say no. But something softened in me. I would need all the help I could get. I wasn’t going to be her friend. I was never going to like her—but I could use her.
“Sure,” I said, deliberately trying to sound like I didn’t care. But I would be watching them both. We all would.
Watching Hessa sleeping on top of the backpack gave me an idea. It wouldn’t do for him to sleep like that, and we needed the backpack to carry other supplies.
“Can I have a knife?” I asked, surprised faces all around. I guess it was hard going from zombie to fully functioning human without people wondering whether you were insane.
Deshi searched around the site and found one. I set to work cutting down some of the bendy green saplings. As soon as I cut into the trunk, the right feeling was overwhelming. I ran my hand over the trunk, enjoying every little bump. I had missed this. I sliced through the sapling, sticky sap oozing from its wounds. I cut down about eight small trees and went to work skinning them and bending them. I know everyone probably wanted to get moving but they let me work. I must have looked possessed. I didn’t speak. I just worked. I bent the wood into the shape I desired and tied it with the tough grass we were surrounded by. I felt like I was made for this. I saw things differently to the others. I could see there was a life to be made out here. The forest was abundant and provided everything we needed.