“So you can’t tell me anything?” I sighed.
He responded to my obvious disappointment, eager to impress. “I can show you some things,” he said, extending his hand. I eyed it apprehensively. I wasn’t sure, and I really should have stayed right where I was. I talked myself into it; waiting was not going to achieve anything anyway. I took his hand. It was warm and dry. A shiver ran through me, a reminder, and I let go abruptly. I walked to the cot to check on the baby. Hopefully, he would sleep for at least an hour. “Ok, lead the way.”
Cal grinned at me and started walking down the hall away from where the people were. Then as it got quieter and darker, he broke into a jog. I jogged behind him, wondering why I was mindlessly following this strange boy but feeling a sense of freedom. My footsteps sent a new energy through my body as I ran. A sense of my old self, impulsive, mischievous, was surging forward. He told me to hurry up. We were nearly there.
He pulled up suddenly and turned to face me. In the dark, I could barely make him out and I slammed right into his stationary body with a thud. We were both panting, breathless. I laughed. So did he.
Once I couldn’t hear footfalls anymore, another sound was pushing up out of the darkness. Barking.
The air was heavy down here. Cal found my hand and I didn’t pull away because I couldn’t see where I was going anymore. It made me feel intensely uncomfortable and I was starting to regret my decision. He placed my hand on a metal rail, patting it once, and told me to climb down. I gripped the rails and clumsily tried to find the rungs of the metal ladder with my feet. Cal was right behind me and stepped on my hands.
“Ouch! Watch it,” I snapped
Cal scoffed, “Whoops, sorry.”
Hitting the ground, I adjusted my eyes. I could see light again. I followed it; hearing the sounds of dogs barking, the unpleasant smell of animal closeness creeping up my nose. I came to a door. Cal opened it for me, putting his hands in the small of my back and pushing me through gently. I jerked away from his touch and stumbled into a room full of wolves.
I turned to run, my blood thumping in my ears. But Cal was just smiling casually at me, like the room was full of bunny rabbits. There was a man in the corner fiddling with what looked to be a carriage. He looked up and waved a hand at Cal. “Hey, Bataar,” Cal said. The man just grunted. His dark brows pulled together in concentration as he tried to untangle meters of rope.
The wolves were jumping up excitedly, their claws click-clacking against the stone floor. Cal approached them. I squeaked out a “No,” but they knew him. They were licking his hands and he was patting their heads, pulling on their ears and talking to them.
I didn’t notice I was pinned against the wall until he brought one over to me, holding it by the collar. I gulped drily; I had nowhere to run. I peeled myself off and leaned down towards it. “This is Bold.” It wasn’t a wolf, at least not like what I had encountered. Its eyes were a golden yellow and its coat was thick and fluffy. It looked at me, teeth bared in an almost human grin, tongue hanging out. “It’s ok. He won’t hurt you.” I reached my hand out and patted it stiffly on the head. It leaned into my palm, taking the pat as a sign that it could jump on me.
I surprised both men when I firmly said, “No!” The dog tilted its head and planted its bum on the ground. I laughed. “Good.”
“You’re a natural,” Cal said admiringly. The man in the corner sniggered and spat on the ground.
“What is this? I mean, why have you got animals down here?” I had the sudden and ridiculous fear that maybe they ate them. I chided myself.
“This is our transportation,” Cal shrugged, like it was obvious.
My eyes grazed over harnesses, carriages, stacks of containers piled against the walls of the big, dark cavern. I grinned. This could be fun. But I instantly felt a stab of guilt at enjoying myself when Joseph was under the knife and Apella was grieving her baby. I sat down against the wall and sighed deeply. Would I ever be able to enjoy life without something pulling it away from me?
Joseph , please wake up.
One of the dogs sidled up to me and laid its head in my lap. I ran my hands through its fur, rough and prickly on the outer layer, but when I pushed my fingers deeper, it changed to a soft down. My happiness was attached to these feelings. A mixture of fear and love had pushed me into a tree and created the most amazing night of my life. I held my chest, afraid of my ribs parting, my heart falling out and dropping to the dirty floor to be covered in dog hair. I laughed halfheartedly as I imagined someone picking it up, dusting it off, and handing it back to me saying, ‘Here, you dropped this.’ I felt like I was going crazy. I was.
Cal played with the dogs and I watched him create mini-tornados of dog fluff and dust. Yawning. Distraction didn’t last very long. He walked over and sat next to me, our legs touching. It was too close. I edged sideways, putting a gap between us. The dog snored in my lap. I wished I were him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurted out, harshly.
He was taken aback but he answered me kindly. “Because I know what you’re going through.”
I snorted. How could he possibly?
“I lost my sister six months ago. She got sick. Matt tried to save her but he couldn’t.” He looked sad. Tired. Grief does that. It wears you down. So all you feel is bluntness and loneliness.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shoulders slumped, suddenly feeling so weary I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Close your eyes and rest,” he said. “I’ll wake you in half an hour.”
I didn’t reply, the heaviness of the day was pressing down on me, one life slipping away while another fought to hang on. Half an hour. I could rest and then I would go back to the room and wait. A heavy, furred head on my lap lulled me to sleep with its warmth and rough snoring.
I was running through the forest, the light streaming through peppered trunks. It was warm; the autumn colors shone Technicolor bright, as if painted on. The trees leaned into me, whispering secrets as they swung their arms back and forth in a slow dance. Someone caught up to me. A big, warm hand clasped my own. It started to rain, but I didn’t feel wet. It showered down on me but only sent pinpricks of pleasure through my free body. Joseph chuckled and stopped running. I gazed into those beautiful eyes, the green of the forest living in them. The gold of my heart scattered around the irises. He started climbing a tree and I followed, vaguely aware of dogs barking in the background. We sat together on a branch and he pulled me into his lap. It was light, brighter than light, everywhere. It folded over us like a warm blanket. He held my face in his hands and pulled me closer. I parted my lips just slightly, breathing in his warm breath. I closed my eyes and opened them again.
Cal’s face was about an inch from my own. Before I could stop him, he leaned in and tried to kiss me. Shocked, I froze. My lips set hard, my whole body stiffening like a plank of wood. I leaned back, trying to put my hands on his chest and push him away but he had a hold of them, grasping my arms at the elbow. He pushed towards me. I pulled my legs up quickly and kicked. He flew back, knocking over water bottles that made lonely, metallic, rolling sounds against the rock floor.