Authors: Ryann Kerekes
“Eve?” Kai drops down beside me, lifting my chin. “What is it? Should I take you back?”
A single tear escapes and drops to the ground. I shake my head. “No. Not yet.”
He folds me into his arms, and I don’t protest. I can’t. It’s not like when Will
held me, but it’s something. At least I don’t feel quite so alone. “Come here.” He lifts me from the ground and carries me several paces before setting me on my feet. “This is where I found you. Surrounded by wildflowers, the sun streaming down on you. I thought you were an angel at first.” He smiles shyly.
I look down at my feet. His kindness toward me is misplaced. I’m not who he thinks I am. I’m an imposter. “I shouldn’t be here.” I swallow the emotion down.
“I’ll take you back now.”
I simply nod.
Kai stoops to the ground and plucks one of the white flowers. “Here. For you.” He holds it out as a peace offering.
I take the flower, balanc
ing the delicate weight of it in my palm, and can’t help but remember Will picking wild edible plants for me. This flower in comparison feels useless, silly.
~ Six Months Later ~
Winter passed in a series of frigid nights spent around the hearth, watching glittering white snow dropping from the sky and lots of knitting with Sage. Spring has brought back the brilliance and warmth of the sun and hope blooms in my heart.
As I suspected, my welcome at Sage’s quickly ran its course and I’ve now been living in a spare room at Kai’s for the past several months. I pretend not to notice the way he looks at me while I’m cooking, or when I emerge from the bathroom scrubbed pink with still-damp hair, or the way he silent
ly grins when I hum to myself. A habit that I unfortunately picked up from Sage.
A lot had changed in the six months I’d been living at the outpost. The most significant being that I knew with certainty Will wasn’t coming. My heart had sealed itself off, all hope abandoned. I’d earned a spot amongst my new people, even if I still didn’t feel like one of them – I was a contributing member, something Sage insisted upon. I rejected many of the things she thought were women’s work – cooking and gardening and instead helped build houses and went on hunting expeditions with the men, thanks to my passable aim and skill with weapons due to Will’s lessons.
Living with Kai, I’d also begun to help with some of his duties as healer. I’d seen him birth a baby, treat countless bumps and minor contusions, and say a last blessing for a dying man when nothing more could be done.
Thankfully my days were filled with activity and work. It was enough of a distraction that I could carry on, even if it wasn’t fully living. But nights…nights were a different story. The moon taunted me,
its gorgeous bluish light beckoning me to remember evenings with Will, or in lesser instances, my mother.
The fragrant springtime bree
ze through the open window lulls me into remembering my time spent in the meadow with Will, my sore muscles from the manual labor always a reminder of my time at the compound. They say that time heals all wounds, but I’ve found that’s a farce. I am not healed. Numb, maybe. Time makes you numb to the pain, but it doesn’t make you forget.
When I rise in the morning, grumpy after another restless night, Kai is packing his bag in the small kitchen. He looks me over, still dressed in my bedclothes, which consist of an old t-shirt of his. His gaze lingers at my bare thighs where the shirt stops
and his lips part as he pulls in a shuddering breath. I don’t mind Kai looking at me. I know he’s kind and good-natured. I know he deserves love and desires a good woman, but I also know that I am not that woman. After a second his eyes snap back up to mine and his hands continue stuffing various implements into his bag. “Elliot is sick. Do you want to come with me?” he asks.
Elliot is a toddler and
easily my favorite person here. He doesn’t know about my past, he doesn’t care about my tattoo or the jagged scar on my wrist, he just accepts me. Besides time with him guarantees a distraction. “Sure. Just let me change.”
Kai nods and finishes packing his bag while I go to my room to change. My clothes are secondhand pi
eces from the women and even some of the children, since I never gained back the weight I lost on the journey here. I slip a soft cotton shirt over my head, and step into a pair of jeans. Both knees are shredded, but it doesn’t matter to me. They’re comfortable.
When Kai and I set off, we see a group of men returning to the outpost at the edge of the woods.
Kai points. “They’re back.” They pull a heavy sled laden with supplies and large backpacks bounce on each of their backs. It appears their journey was successful. That will mean more antibiotics, supplies, dehydrated foods and critical tools. I never knew that trade existed between those on either side of the fence. It was just another thing the capital didn’t want us to know. Cooperation and humanity still exists, even if they liked to pretend it doesn’t.
We
reach the little cottage, and Kai taps lightly on the door, then pushes it open. He’s close friends with Elliott’s parents. They’re actually not much older than we are. Eli is eighteen, like Kai, and Fern is twenty. Before Eli moved here a few years ago, Fern and Kai were a couple, and I can tell by the way Kai looks at her that he wishes they still were. But Kai is never bitter. He doesn’t have a vindictive bone in his body.
We enter the front room and
Fern stands to greet us, pressing a kiss to each of our cheeks. She looks horrible, tired and weary with dark circles marring the skin beneath her eyes. She hasn’t slept. “He’s in our bed,” she says, and leads us down the hall.
The room is dim without any candles or lanterns burning and the curtains firmly shut. It takes my eyes a second to adjust. Eli is cradling little Elliott in his arms. My heart clinches seeing the sweet toddler, who normally doesn’t sit still, weak and non-responsive.
Kai, sure and confident as ever, takes Elliott from his father, lying him down on the unmade bed. Needing something to do with my hands, I open Kai’s bag and set out various things I think he might want. A piece of cloth, a vial and a syringe. Kai’s eyes meet mine, as if saying thank you. I nod once.
You’re welcome. Just make him better.
Kai’s large fingers are so gentle against the baby’s neck and wrist, feeling for a pulse, that I know must be weak based on Kai’s frown.
I wonder if this will be my life – living on this outpost with Kai, maybe having a baby of my own someday. A baby that can be taken from you by the simplest of illnesses because of a government that forces outsiders to live without necessities like immunizations and medicines. The thought does not sit well. My stomach is a tangle of nerves, in fact. Is it possible to live a life when your heart and soul is on the other side of a fence?
Kai lifts Elliott to listen to his lungs, pressing his ear against the little guy’s chest and then murmuring sweet things.
“You’re gonna be okay, buddy.”
My heart clenches in my chest. Kai is good at what he does, and for that I’m thankful. After lying Elliot back down on the bed, Kai reaches for the syringe I’ve set out. Neither of us comment that this is his last vile of penicillin. We both know Kai would give it to him even without the promise of more in the haul that arrived this morning. I hold Elliott’s little limp hand in mine, stroking the back of it with my thumb while Kai exposes his chunky thigh and gently administers the shot. Elliott’s eyes flutter open and find mine. I brush his blond curls back from his forehead. “
Shh. Just rest now, sweet baby.” Elliott lets out a soft grunt and closes his eyes again.
I feel Kai watching me and when I meet his
eyes, his expression is soft, reflecting wonder and kindness. I swallow roughly. “Is he going to be okay?”
Kai nods slowly, his eyes not leaving mine. My hands fumble to pack up Kai’s bag. When he watches me like that, like I’m the most interesting thing in the room, it makes my insides go all fluttery and I don’t know where to look or what to say. It’s not like Kai’s bad to look at, or hard to be around. He’s a sweet guy. He just isn’t Will and my mind won’t let me forget that. No matter how bad I might want to sometimes.
As if by unspoken agreement, we walk to the center of town in silence. We’re eager to see what the men have brought back, to hear of their journey, but for very different reasons. Kai gets excited about medicines, packages of bandages and I’m eager to hear what’s happening in the capital, to know the climate beyond the fence.
When we approach, Kai wanders to where the goods are being spread out and organized. He picks through the meager supplies and begins packing various things into his bag. I wander over to hear the men speak. Wilson is the unofficial leader of the group – he’s in his late fifties, but as vibrant and strong as a man half his age. He’s standing on an over-turned crate, speaking passionately before a small crowd.
“There are widespread riots and unrest in the capital and surrounding areas.”
My stomach drops to my feet as I think of Will, Rena and my friends.
“We traded for more weapons this trip as a precautionary measure,” Wilson continues. Murmurs and rumblings i
n the crowd erupt. Wilson raises his hands, quieting the group. “Mostly knives. We must be prepared.” The whispers subside slightly, and I see women clutch at their men’s hands, mouths pressed into tight lines and emotions running high. Kai walks over, joining me, the bag on his back having grown considerably.
Wilson steps down from the crate, waving his arms to disperse the crowd. “We’ll be making a return journey to stockpile again. Things are too unstable to wait.”
Trips to the fence are made once or twice per year, not twice within as many weeks. It’s a long and dangerous journey. To send men back so quickly must mean something more is going on than Wilson’s saying. But he wanders away, his shoulders heavy with worry.
“I got you something,” Kai says, his voice soft.
I’ve been sitting in the same spot since we returned home, staring vacantly out the window.
I turn and watch Kai carry a package wrapped in brown paper towards me. It’s been a long time since someone’s given me a wrapped gift. Since my sixteenth birthday, actually, which is nearing a year ago now. “I figured you could use a few things of your own, so I had Stone find me what I was looking for.”
Kai’s kindness is too much. Asking for specific items on a journey to the fence is expensive. I wonder what he had to trade to get this for me. Kai doesn’t have much to barter with, his home is very sparse, his own wardrobe just a few pairs of cargo pants and cotton shirts. We always have enough to eat, but just barely. I don’t like the thought that he’s going without to give me something.
The brown paper crinkles in my hands as I stare down at the offending package. It’s soft, so I know it won’t contain tools to hunt or fish with – the things I want most. I think of the gifts Will surprised me with a time or two – they were usually weapons. Something practical to protect myself with.
“Open it,” he commands.
I pull the yard of twine holding the package closed and open the paper. It’s a sweater made of dyed navy blue wool and appears to be my size. I’ve never held something quite so soft.
“Cause you’re always cold,” he says.
“Thank you.”
“There’s something else too.”
Nestled under the sweater are several pairs of underpants. The government-issued-used-to-be-white-and-are-now-gray-underpants I used to wear. My chest gets tight.
“You know I’m fine with sharing, but you can’t exactly wear my boxer shorts.” His smile is shy, unsure and his cheeks are slightly flushed.
I don’t mention that after my last pair became too full of holes, I’d stopped wearing panties altogether a couple of weeks ago.
“Thank you,” I say again. Without another word, I carry my gifts to my room and stuff them in a drawer before curling up on the bed.
Several minutes later, Kai taps lightly on the door. “Eve?”
I remain quiet, knowing he’ll just come in anyways. Kai crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under this weight. He places a hand on the center of my back, rubbing slow languid circles. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Fine.” I nod. I look up into his eyes, which are deep blue pools of worry. I’ve come so far since he first met me, but I know he wants more. He wants to be the one to make me whole again. I just don’t think that’s possible.
He continues rubbing my back and I let him. It feels nice. “You should come out and eat something.”
I shake my head. “Not hungry.”
Kai frowns. “Are you going to bed for the night?”
It’s hardly dark out. I shrug. I just want to lie here. I don’t care what happens next.
Kai gets quiet and his hand stills on my back. “Can I stay here with you at least?”
“Sure.” It’s his house after all.
Kai lies on his side next to me, stretching his body along the length of the mattress so we’re just a foot apart.
“I’m sorry if my gifts upset you,” he whispers.
“They didn’t. I said thank you.”