She lifted her hand and pointed. “Jam.”
“Jam. Really? Well, it seems a little unorthodox, but jam it is,” Joseph said as I pulled around the corner and met his eyes. His gaze dropped to my bare feet, his fingers flexing at his sides, a jar of strawberry jam in one hand. He seemed to check himself, cracking his neck to one side, and then took a deep breath. Stepping towards me awkwardly, he swept me into his arms and held me close. He breathed in my hair as if he were memorizing me, saving me, like I would disappear. I felt bendy and squeezed of air in his arms, but happy.
The jam jar knocked the back of my skull with a light clunk. I felt Rosa-May’s eyes on us. “Ouch!” I exclaimed, though it didn’t really hurt, and he broke our embrace, leaving me wobbly and rubbery, liable to bend to the ground.
“Sorry if I woke you,” he said, his eyes running over my body slowly. I couldn’t quite work out what he was doing. Or thinking.
“You didn’t,” I replied politely. In agony. Rosa-May clambered over the back of the couch and ran to my side, wrapping her arms around my legs like a vice. I bent down and smoothed her hair, feeling a grief-coated lump rising in my throat.
Joseph’s eyes were sadness rounded with distress when he caught my expression.
“What can I do? I don’t know what to do,” he said, expelling the thought desperately, without meaning to.
I wiped my eyes before my sister could see my tears and we both looked up at Joseph, our faces two halves pressed together, two parts of a whole.
His smile was a clash between guilt and love.
“God! She looks so much like you. She’s beautiful.” He kneeled down and tucked his large finger under her chin. “You’re beautiful, Miss Rosa-May.” The ‘Miss’ sent me tumbling towards a dark tunnel, but I braced myself against the sides.
She narrowed her eyes for a second, like she was sizing him up, and then she barked, “Toast.” Like that, she pulled me back from the edge as we all laughed, truly laughed.
Joseph turned to make breakfast, and we discussed what we needed to do next.
We needed to find Gus and Matthew.
We needed to leave Pau and get Orry.
We stepped from the thin home and into a grey dawn. I tripped and stopped to roll up the long legs of the pants Joseph’s friend Elise had lent me. The shirt she gave me hung over my hands and the boots were two sizes too big, but it was so much better than the torn dress I’d been wearing. Joseph waited, his eyes out over the fuzzy sky, his mouth pulled down.
I knocked his arm to startle him back to the present. “You still asleep or something?”
He dipped his chin to me and forced a smile. “Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” I smirked, and he sighed like he’d just expelled a large ghost from his chest. The sigh flapped around me and I pulled my grey jacket tighter around my middle, hoisting Rosa-May onto my hip.
Last night, we’d left everyone to sleep, to rest. This morning’s light showed a world turned upside down. All the Survivors inside the walls, and most of Pau Brazil milling around outside, completely lost.
Matthew appeared from the mist, striding down the dreary street, his face etched in tired lines of worry and held up with purpose. I waved him over.
“Oh good, you’re up. We’re meeting outside to discuss our next move. Joseph, I believe your parents are waiting for you out there too.” His smile was wary.
Joseph tensed at the mention of his parents. Their reunion last night had been joyful but brief with Joseph making excuses and whisking me away before much could be said. I think he was happy to see them, but I also understood his reluctance. We were not the same people who left here two and a half years ago.
Matthew turned, expecting us to follow.
“Where’s Gus?” I asked, running to walk beside him.
“Hunting,” he replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.
We parted the mist and climbed the crest of blown-apart concrete. The view shocked us to a standstill. Thousands of people huddled in small groups, spread out below us like a herd that had lost its alpha.
I gasped.
Matthew heard me. “Yes. It’s quite a sight.”
We moved to the left, hitting the grass and walked towards the chopper. Matthew gestured to Gus, who was squatting by the wall, knife in one hand, the other pressed to the ground.
“What is he hunting exactly?” I asked both of them.
“That little man that went underground, I guess,” Joseph answered.
Matthew nodded. “He has to surface eventually.”
“Oh,” was all I managed before I was swept into a tight embrace yet again.
I thought we’d done all this last night: The hugs, the kisses, and the happy reunions, which lacked happiness. But Rash had me off the ground, with Rosa-May still in my arms, before I could stop him.
We teetered together.
“In the cold light of morning, your hair really does look like shit,” he joked as he planted me back in the grass. His eyes darted to Joseph, who shook his head.
“I know,” I said, attempting to tuck it back and losing.
Joseph marked my side. “Considering everything she’s been through, actually, despite any of that, I think she looks incredible.”
Rash scowled. “Enough with the sappy romantic crap dude, I just ate,” he said, holding his stomach and pretend-retching. Rosa-May giggled as I scowled at him.
Rash winked and pinched her cheek. She smacked at him with tiny fists.
“Whoa! Got your sister’s temper I see, mini-Rosa.”
Joseph loomed over Rash. “Don’t call her that,” he threatened.
I waved them both off. “Calm down you two.” Their interaction was strange and left an icy, acid feeling in my stomach. I left them exchanging frigid stares and peered over Rash’s shoulder to see Pelo and Joseph’s parents talking seriously. I’d forgotten they knew each other. The image of a parent-teacher conference hovered like a bubble over their heads. When Pelo noticed me, he broke his conversation and strode over, the sun spilling through the frosted leaves and dancing off his dark hair.
“How are you, my girl?” he asked, bending down to peer into my eyes like they somehow held the answers more than my mouth could. Rosa-May pushed his face back from mine protectively with her chubby fingers. Pelo’s eyes were strained, his mouth fighting to turn down, despite his best efforts.
“I’m fine. I’m good actually.” Today, I was going to get my son and the dark blades of the chopper loomed with promise. “What about you?” I asked. Joseph’s arm crept over my shoulder and grounded me.
“I have no right to be as sad as I am. You,” he poked my chest and I stumbled back, “you have all the right, all the permission, to drown in your grief, yet here you are, stronger than ever.” So many pages of lies piled on top of each other they were as thick as a textbook.
I ran my fingers along the side of the craft. “Do we have the pilot?” I asked, changing the subject.
Pelo nodded, for once understanding that now was not the time.
Deshi approached us exclaiming, “Remarkable. She looks just like you, Rosa.” His expression was tired but cheerful. He held out his hand to Rosa-May, who inspected it and passed it back with a brief grin. She hadn’t said anything except ‘Toast,’ and ‘Jam,’ since yesterday, and it worried me. I pressed my cheek to hers. It was very cold.
“So you’re thinking what I was thinking, then?” Deshi continued. “This would be perfect.” He slapped the black plastic and the whole craft wobbled, distorting the reflection of the forest that called to me.
Jonathan appeared, inserting himself easily into the conversation. “Is it safe?”
I almost laughed in his face. Nothing was safe. I didn’t know what safe was.
Joseph spoke through tight lips, standing behind me like a solid wall. “I’m sure it’s fine, Dad.” Jonathan slapped a reassuring hand on Joseph’s back and chuckled.