I let the dozy feeling wrap around me like a loose bandage and daydreamed about what it might be like to have a home. A home with Joseph and, of course, Hessa and Deshi. Could I make room for another in our little family? For the first time, I opened my mind to the possibility. It was a hazy dream. I could see the four of us; the fifth member was a sketchy grey cloud I couldn’t quite put a face to. Up until now, the leech was not even allowed to exist in my dreams. But it was pushing away at them now, infringing on the edges. Making it presence known.
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 trudging 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.”