I froze, no longer moving towards him. Feeling my body reluctantly, but instinctively, pulling away from his touch. A beautiful oak tree leaned down to hear us, its orange and yellow leaves lighting the branches up like flame.
“What does that mean?” I asked defensively, clenching my fists.
Joseph eyes fell. He scratched his arm again and let his arms fall to his sides. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Rosa, I don’t want to fight.”
I took another step back, my feet crunching and then squelching into the dirt as I stomped, vibrating with anger. “Just explain to me what I have done to impress you so much?” I spat.
“I just meant, you’ve changed, you’re more open, you’ve let me in.”
He stumbled over his words, trying to diffuse me. He held out his hand but I smacked it away. I hated when he tried to ‘manage’ me like this. It made it even harder to control my anger. It rose in me like an over boiling pot, bubbles surging up and burning me with hot steam. I was of two minds, one part of me trying to calm down but the other, overwhelming part, held onto the anger and pushed it forward.
“I didn’t realize I was so behind before,” I said sarcastically, knowing I was taking it too far, but unable to stop myself. As I grew in size, so did the strength of my changing emotions. I was fuming, although not entirely sure why. “You can’t change me, you know, this is it.” I was stamping the earth like a child having a tantrum, smattering the colored leaves with dirt.
Joseph’s expression changed from apologetic and calm to angry, his mouth pursed, eyebrows knotted, a temper starting to boil up to join mine.
“Believe me, I know that,” he said loudly, his deep voice booming through the forest. I leaned away, shocked; he had never really raised his voice to me. I knew I had gone too far, I knew it, so why didn’t I stop? I pushed his chest. He didn’t move. So I turned my back to him and uttered, “You need to leave, now,” even though I didn’t want him to go anywhere. I was desperate for him to stay.
“Fine, you get your way.” He walked away from me, his boots thumping through the forest loudly. But as his furious form retreated through the trees, I caught him mutter, “You always do.”
My face fell and tears brimmed over, splashing down my face. I willed him to turn around, to see my sorry face, but he never did. He just stormed through the soft undergrowth, trampling plants and scratching his arm furiously as he went, until he disappeared from sight.
I looked through the spaces between the branches of the oak tree. Little framed windows of white light sparked and shot down to the forest floor. What’s wrong with me, Clara? Why can’t I be happy? Why am I always pushing him away?
I thought back to the day when I was eavesdropping on Joseph and Clara’s conversation. “She trusts you, she just doesn’t trust herself,” she’d said. She was right. The closer it got to my due date, the more I worried about my feelings. I didn’t trust that I could make it work. I didn’t understand why he had faith in me, when everything I loved turned to dust. I fell to my knees, placing my hands in the dirt. This was what came of loving me. I picked up a handful and watched it trickle to the ground. Dust. Tears turning to mud as they merged with the ground.
I sobbed pathetically, sitting in a triangle of light that finally forced me to move. I rose from the ground and wiped my red face. I knew a lot of this was pregnancy hormones, but part of it was fear. The baby always drove a wedge between us because I was afraid of it. I resolved to try and talk to him rationally. I needed to explain how I was feeling.
I made my way back. Tonight was the first we would sleep inside. It was a good thing too; the nights had started to get icy, a fine frost gathering on the outside of our sleeping bags. I hoped Careen had made more progress with the fireplace. I hoped Joseph hadn’t stormed back angry and was telling everyone what a horrible person I was. No, he would never do that.
When I got back, everyone was hovering over something I had been working on. They were circling it and talking to each other when I broke the circle. I busted in, deliberately opposite Joseph, trying to catch his eyes, but he avoided my gaze. I frowned. I guess at some point it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t want to be my punching bag anymore but I was disappointed. I’d hoped he would realize that I was just overly emotional from all the hormones. With every second that he avoided me, I could feel myself prickling, feel the compulsion to yell or push him again, but I told myself to calm down. This time the calm side won. He couldn’t always be the understanding one. This time it was my turn to make it right.
“Why are you all staring at the door?” I asked, bending down awkwardly to wipe some sawdust off the roughened planks of wood. Joseph’s hand reached out to help me, but then it withdrew quickly. I stayed on the ground, looking up at the group. I had laid out the planks side by side neatly and placed cross braces on them to make a door, but I hadn’t quite worked out how to hang it in the doorway.
Deshi spoke first. “How are we going to put this up? We can’t have a house with no door over winter. It kind of defeats the purpose,” he said crankily, holding Hessa over his shoulder and bouncing up and down as he patted the child’s back.
Careen held out her hand and I took it. She pulled me up too quickly and I felt the blood rush to my head, swaying a little, Apella steadied me with her wispy hands. Joseph stood, hands by his side, silent.
“I’m not sure, at the Classes we were taught to hang doors with hinges. I don’t think I can fashion hinges from wood. Besides, I don’t think they would be strong enough,” I said, still trying desperately to get Joseph to look at me but he wouldn’t. His jaw was tense and he looked at his feet. It was just a little fight and he was sulking like a child. I watched him pat his right arm over and over with narrowed eyes.
“Couldn’t we just stand the door in the gap?” Apella said naively, flicking her finger towards the yawning hole in the cabin.
“No,” I replied, thinking it over. “The weather would push through and it would blow down if it was windy. It needs to be secure and strong against the elements.”
Finally Joseph spoke, a smaller sound than I was used to, “Then we need some hinges.”
I knew what he was going to say. I knew I wouldn’t like the sound of it at all.
“I’ll go back and get some. Remember? Every door was rotted through but what was left of them was hanging off big, iron hinges,” he continued.
“No, it’s too far and it’s too dangerous,” I said, hearing my voice increasing in pitch. “We’ll find another way.”
His eyes were steeled as he said, “I doubt it. Look, we have plenty of time. The rest of you can collect more food and firewood. Finish the fireplace. By the time I get back, you’ll be done and we can put the door up.” He sounded so calm. Everyone else was nodding in agreement.
I pitched forward into the group. “Are you all crazy? What if he gets lost, or injured? He can’t go alone.” The idea of him leaving me was too much, especially on these terms.
“I’ll go with him,” Careen volunteered. My worst nightmare. Well, one of them at least.
Alexei pushed his glasses up onto his head only to run his hands through his hair and knock them to the ground. “Ok, then it’s settled, you can leave in the morning,” he said to the ground.
Everyone nodded and returned to their various tasks. I stood over my door, staring at it, racking my brain for another solution that meant he could stay. I couldn’t come up with anything.
I found Joseph stacking stones for the fireplace, the clink of rock on rock interrupted by his slight heaves. I touched his arm and he swung around, startled. When he saw it was me he relaxed a little, but I could see he was still hurt.