The cabin was only leaking in one corner of the room. But rain was streaming through the uncovered windows. We moved all our stuff into the dry corner and stayed close to each other for warmth. I used some of our only nails to hammer a blanket over the windows, which helped a little. The rain had certainly pointed out some things that needed to be fixed. It was going to be a damp, miserable night.
I couldn’t sleep. I was too concerned for Joseph and Careen. Listening to the wind blowing outside, it sounded devilish, howling and whipping the trees. I worried about the strength of our cabin. If it fell down on us, we would be crushed by the trunks on the roof. It held strong. I pictured Careen and Joseph huddling together in the cold, as we were. At least I started to, until my imagination had them crawling all over each other and I felt sick to my stomach. It wasn’t going to happen, I convinced myself. I held Hessa close and concentrated on keeping him warm.
Deshi was awake too. Apella and Alexei were intertwined with one another and had fallen asleep in a tangle.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re fine,” Deshi said unconvincingly. He held out his hands out for Hessa, but I wasn’t giving him up tonight.
I shook my head. “Don’t you worry—there is no way I’ll sleep tonight. You try and get some rest.”
“You forget, I worry about Joseph the same way you do,” he said, annoyed. I nodded. There were no words for him.
Changing the subject, I asked, “What do you think of Careen?”
He laughed. “If you’re asking—do I think she’ll have a go with Joseph, absolutely!”
My heart stopped.
“Just ask me if you think he would rise to the bait,” he said, leading. I didn’t say anything and he answered himself, “Absolutely not.”
He put his hand on my arm and patted it awkwardly. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Yeah, except them freezing to death, or being attacked by an animal, or not having enough to eat,” I said bitingly.
“Ha, yeah, except for that.”
I laughed despite myself.
“Rosa, I don’t think you understand just how much he loves you.”
I squirmed uncomfortably. A cloud of memories rustled up, like shaking a blanket full of dust. Bits billowing out, some floating away, others getting stuck up your nose; a choking feeling, making you want to sneeze.
“I do,” I said quietly, but I sounded unsure. I knew how I felt, but his feelings had always seemed a bit confused in my mind. There was the before and the after. Before, when we were in Pau, when he wanted to be close and then pushed me away, the after when he told me to leave him alone at the Classes. Then there was the before that I didn’t know about, those four months I was missing, where he said he never stopped looking for me. The next after, was yet to come. After the baby was born.
Deshi laughed, but there was a bitter edge to it. “No, you don’t.” He looked to the door, watching the water streaming down the entrance, almost solid. “When you were at the Classes, did you ever see how much pain he was in?”
Most of my memories were of him joking around and talking to his friends. There were only a couple of times that he gave the impression that he was less than happy. I held my heart, feeling like if I didn’t, it would fall out of my chest. These memories were too painful. They brought with them visions of Rash, Henri, blood and broken faces. I just shook my head.
“He was in agony. He wanted to talk to you, but he knew you had no future together; he was trying to do the right thing. But by the time he had decided to tell you how he felt, it was too late, you were gone.” Deshi’s hands fell flatly on his crossed legs. “When you disappeared, so did Joseph. He was tormented. He barely ate or slept. I don’t know why, but I think he blamed himself, like he could have stopped it.” Deshi shook his head. I knew Deshi blamed me; he probably blamed me for a lot of things.
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, he would never jeopardize the delicate ‘thing’ you have, not in a million years.” He said it with distaste. He didn’t get it. I’m not sure I really did either. All I knew was how it felt.
He looked at me, eyes tracking up and down, narrowing. I knew he didn’t think I was worth it. Our relationship always tipped back and forth like this. Talking about Joseph was a mistake for us. It hurt.
I tried hard not to sound jealous when I said, “Do you think he is safe with her?”
“I don’t know.”
I rolled my eyes, “Well, that’s comforting”
“She’s a bit crazy, but I don’t think she’d hurt him. I think she’s just traumatized or something.”
I stared into my lap, Hessa folded neatly into the crook of my arm. Was I traumatized? Probably.
At some point in our conversation, the rain started to ease. A damp, dreary morning peeked through the doorway, mist rising off the grass. We roused ourselves and surveyed the damage. The top of the fireplace had collapsed, dark grey stones and clay scattered on the ground. But apart from that, everything looked ok. The cabin had held up remarkably well through the storm. We identified the holes and started working to fix the problems. The fireplace needed to be shorter and wider to make it more stable. Once it was repaired, we lit a fire and let it burn all day, baking the stonework and drying the cabin out.
Apella and Alexei went into the forest to search for food. I tried following them once but I felt I could barely walk two steps without feeling the weight of the leech pushing down. I needed to go to the toilet all the time and I felt quite sure, if I walked too far, the child would fall out. Bang! Like a chicken dropping an egg.
Apella asked me to lie down and she poked and prodded my stomach. Squeezing me like an orange. She informed me that the baby was engaged. I giggled, “What? Already? When’s the wedding?” Apella almost smiled. Almost. She explained the head was down and that’s why I felt pressure. So, it was standing on its head and bouncing up and down on my bladder. Great. She also said not to worry, this could happen weeks before the baby was actually born but I should try not to push myself.
Every time someone went past the tree line and returned, my heart cartwheeled. I could always hear them coming before I saw them and I hoped against hope that it was Joseph, stomping through the forest. It never was.
The forest was looking sparser now, more leaves on the ground than the branches, looking like stark, straggly fingers reaching to the sky, calling the snow. The colors of the leaves reminded me of the sunset we had viewed from the top of our hill. I could almost feel him breathing into my neck, his strong arms holding me. Almost, but not quite. I knew he had probably reached the city by now but there was no way he would be back today unless he ran all the way. I dreaded another night alone but at least the rain had moved on. With the fireplace repaired, hopefully we would get some sleep.
Deshi helped me drag the heavy shutters inside. We leaned them in the windows, leaving a crack for ventilation. Deshi settled Hessa and gave him a bottle. We ate in silence, chewing on Careen’s dried rabbit. All of us wondering where they were, whether they had found anything, and when they would be back.
Apella parted the silence with her wispy voice. “Rosa, I have been meaning to say thank you.”
I looked at her incredulously. Thank me for what? I had been nothing but mean to her from the moment we left the facility.
“Without your knowledge and persistence, we never would have built this home. We would have kept walking and ended up freezing to death. This was a good idea,” she finished.