“We need to talk.” His voice was low and raspy, almost inaudible beneath the warbling cries of the baby. Yet somehow the words still had the power to make Ocean shift her gaze to the floor, as if she’d discovered something of intense interest on the tip of the black slippers Levi had given her.
“I gotta… I have to tend to Baby. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, he won’t stop crying and I’ve tried—”
“That kid’s the least of your worries.”
Ocean felt as though her entire body had just been doused in freezing water. He really does know, how does he know? Did I leave some kind of clue?
Corduroy stepped closer to her and Ocean involuntarily took a step backward. Her back was now pressed tightly against the wall and she felt slightly dizzy, torn between the desire to cry and run.
“In fact, I wouldn’t plan on gettin’ too attached to him if I was you.”
She glanced up for a fraction of a second and then found herself scanning the room as if a doorway through which she could flee might magically appear. The nursery was so small, no bigger than the interior of the car she used to sleep in really. Even if some sort of escape route did present itself, Corduroy would have no problem blocking her way with a simple sidestep.
“I wouldn’t plan on gettin’ too attached to anyone.”
The words hung in the air like a thinly veiled threat, and the trembling which wracked Ocean’s body punctuated Baby’s weeping with a slight vibrato. She was trapped, and that disgusting rotter of a man was so close now that she imagined she could almost smell the ghost of charred flesh.
“Cord! This latrine isn’t going to dig itself.” Gauge’s voice boomed out from somewhere beyond the nursery and Ocean finally found the strength to look her accuser directly in the eye. She wanted to appear defiant and challenging, to convey with a gaze that she wasn’t afraid of any punishment they could possibly dole out. But, at the same time, the thought of never being able to see Gauge again, of not hearing his laugh or feeling the warmth of his hand on her bare shoulder, caused her to feel as though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces. Her vision wavered through a cascade of tears, but she tried to stand as straight and tall as possible.
“Corduroy!”
The older man angled his head slightly and called back over his shoulder. “Keep your pants on… I’m comin’.”
He took a final, long glance at Ocean and jabbed his finger toward her. “This conversation isn’t over, girl.” And, just like that, he was gone.
Ocean tried calming Baby, but it was as if the infant could sense the tension that pinched at the girl’s neck and shoulders. After what felt like hours, Levi came into the nursery with the offer of taking the little boy off her hands, if she’d help the men with the latrine. Torn between the fear of what Corduroy had told Gauge and the dull ache that throbbed in her head from Baby’s incessant crying, Ocean finally relented. She relinquished the little bundle into Levi’s arms and trudged out of the room.
She walked toward the sound of digging slowly, as if partially afraid that it wasn’t a new toilet being constructed at all, as if it were actually a grave that she would be lowered into after judgment had been passed and her sentence pronounced. That was silly… they wouldn’t kill her for what she’d seen. Would they? They might banish her back to the surface, back to that foodless world of rotters and ruin. But kill her?
I’d rather die. I’d rather they kill me, I really would.
And, if she were brutally honest with herself it was what she deserved. Shouldn’t there have been some sort of punishment for what she’d done to her mother? Shouldn’t she have been made to suffer for her sins? But, no—she’d been rewarded. She’d been clothed and fed, introduced to a world where the fear of violent death was as far removed as the stabs of hunger. And she’d met him, the only person in the world who she’d never want to have think an ill thought of her. To have all of that dangled before her and then yanked away would be far crueler than any execution.
Well, maybe that’s what you get, because of Mama. Maybe that’s exactly what you get.
Ocean stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Gauge plunged the shovel into the floor. His muscles rippled with each thrust and he grunted softly while Corduroy replaced the full bucket of dirt with an empty one. He was so handsome, her Gauge, so perfect in every way. She’d miss him the most, even more than the food and clean clothes. Even more than—
“Hey, beautiful,” Gauge panted as he looked up, “I didn’t hear you.”
Despite the fear and uncertainty, Ocean still felt a gush of giddiness wash over her. He thinks I’m beautiful.
Corduroy looked at her with a steady gaze. His good eye gleamed with a coldness in the candlelight, shadows flickered over the gnarled remnants of his face.
She swallowed hard and braced herself for what was to follow. No matter what they decided, she wouldn’t cry, not this time. She was so tired of wasting water, of feeling her insides ripped to shreds with the force of sobs. She would be brave. Strong.
Gauge wiped the sweat from his forehead with a swipe of his arm and grinned at her.
“The problem with digging a hole,” he said, “is you always end up with more dirt than what you took out.”
Just do it. Get it over with, please, just do it.
“I mean, this latrine? It’s not even as deep as the old one yet. But we’ve already got that sucker filled up. And we still got all this dirt to deal with.”
Was he trying to make some kind of point with his little speech? Was he comparing her to the dirt in a hole, maybe?
“Of course, the hardest part is over. About broke my back busting through the concrete.”
He shot a look at Corduroy and narrowed his eyes.
“Really could have used some help with that part, too.”
Why was he being so mean? Why didn’t he just come right out and tell her that he knew she’d disobeyed him, that he was aware she knew what was hidden behind that rusted, metal door.
“So here’s where you come in, sweetie. You need to take these here buckets down the south tunnel. Just after you pass the third drain, there’s going to be a passage off to the left. Take that one, turn right twice, and you’ll come to this big crack in the ground. Be careful because it looks like it could lead right down to the very center of the earth. Anyhow, you dump the dirt down there and by the time you get back, we’ll already have more for you, okay?”
It began to dawn on Ocean that, for whatever reason beyond her understanding, Corduroy hadn’t told Gauge yet. Maybe he was waiting for just the right time, or maybe he planned on holding it over her, wielding the power of this secret in an attempt to make her do dirty things to him. Her mother always said some men would do that, that she should never get into any situation where someone would have that kind of leverage over her. Was that it, then? Was he wanting to—
“Hey, darlin’, are you okay? You don’t look right. Do you need some water or something?”
She mumbled a reply, something about a headache due to Baby’s crying, and concern had immediately pulled Gauge’s feature’s into a long frown.
“Maybe you should go lay down. Cord can haul the buckets. It’ll take longer without the two of us both working but—”
“No, I’m fine, I can do it. Really. Third drain, turn left, take two rights… right?”
She soon found herself with a wooden bar pressing down on her shoulders, two white buckets of dirt dangling by their handles from either end. The added weight made her take tiny, shuffling steps forward, making the south tunnel seem much longer than it ever had before. By the time she was halfway to the forbidden door, her back felt as if the muscles were stretched taut, and her knees ached with each step. Only the constant repetition of do it for Gauge, do it for Gauge kept her moving forward and from collapsing onto the ground.