“He has my eyes,” I muttered, but Pelo wasn’t listening.
He pointed at Joseph and exclaimed, “And he has your hair—how can this be?”
Joseph began to explain the complicated situation to Pelo. Living it was hard enough, and I didn’t have the patience or inclination to listen to Joseph’s romanticized version of the last two years. Making my excuses, I asked where the bathroom was. I truly disliked the congratulatory looks Pelo was giving Joseph. I don’t know what I expected, a little bit of fatherly protectiveness maybe? I wasn’t going to get it.
I turned back mid-step and watched them interacting so easily. I wasn’t sure if I wished it were that way for Pelo and me or for Joseph and me. All I knew was I wished it were different.
I shrugged and shivered as I walked to the bathroom, which was really just a sectioned-off part of the car park with a bucket and some bottles of clean water. I attempted to wash myself, slapping the precious handfuls of water on my face and neck. There was no mirror, which was good. I was quite sure I was a mess anyway. My hair felt like the frayed end of a rope and my skin was covered in a layer of dirt, which was covered with a fine layer of ash.
When I returned, Orry was gone and so was Joseph. I found them talking with Matthew and Gus about what to do next. The Spiders were waiting at the hospital, so they decided they would send a small party back today. I wasn’t going. I had to wait.
“What about Addy?” I said.
Joseph’s face pushed up with hope, until Matthew squashed it back down with his words.
“If she’s alive, which is a big if, she’s in good hands. Some of the Spiders are medical staff. They’ll take care of her,” he said, patting my arm.
“I see you two have made up,” Joseph growled, whilst staring at Matthew’s hand on my forearm.
I took Joseph’s arm and slid it around my waist. Looking up into his painful eyes, I could see he wasn’t there yet. He still blamed Matthew for Cal’s attack.
“Please. With everything that’s happened, I think we need to let some things go,” I said quietly.
Matthew hoisted a length of rope over his shoulder as he said, “It’s all right, Rosa. Everything in time. He has a right to be angry, and so do you.” Then his voice softened. “But I hope the time comes soon. We need to work together.”
Joseph nodded, but his jaw was tight. I could see what he saw. I knew it so deep inside me. Me… broken, curled around a hammer, and blood. Those things didn’t wipe clean so easily. For me, it was different. I was pushed to forgive. Joseph was like a stone in mud; you couldn’t push him anywhere. He would walk forward when he was ready.
The group left to return to the hospital. They took deep breaths and walked away. I wished, with my hand scrunched into tight fists, that the wind had covered the bodies. To pass it again was to go through that trauma all over again.
*****
Joseph left me to tend to the wounded. Almost everyone had scratches, cuts, and bruises from fleeing. He was the only person with any medical training.
“Can I help?” I asked, swinging my arms at my sides.
He took big strides towards me and put both hands on either side of my face. I bit my lip and realized his hands would get caught in my hair.
He ran his thumb over my eyebrow and cocked his head to the side. “No, I think you should rest. You’ve got a nasty cut on you head.” I sighed in disappointment.
His hand moved down my cheek, and his fingers rested on my bottom lip. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he said, “I’ll examine the rest of you later.”
I felt the blood running to my cheeks and shook his hand free.
I wanted to say something smart, something snappy, but instead, all I did was grin stupidly and say, “Fine with me.”
He smiled, and I melted. But there was sadness in the corners, and I wished I could somehow erase it.
I strolled around aimlessly for an hour or so. Odval watched over Orry while he napped. I was trying my best to avoid Pelo, which was hard in such an enclosed space. He bounced animatedly, resembling a stick-like puppet, from person to person, waving at me if he caught me as I moved between concrete posts and ducked down, pretending to be part of other peoples’ conversations. Unfortunately, it meant I avoided Joseph too, because they always seemed to be together. They were like an annoying duo now, laughing and clapping each other on the back. It made me miss Deshi and his snide commentary.
I spotted Alexei and thought I’d relieve him of his door vigil, so he could go eat and clean himself up. He didn’t want to go, but I pretty much upended the chair and flipped him onto the floor. I felt so sad for the denial he was in, but I couldn’t crush his hope, not now when we all needed it so badly. So I played along.
He returned with an armful of tattered books, golden edged with yellowing pages. I left him reading a story to Hessa, about a gingerbread man and a fox that ate him even though he was a walking, talking biscuit. I’d rounded the car park once, and then I heard him telling another story, but this one was about a gingerbread house and a witch who ate kids. Seemed to me people had a weird fixation with gingerbread back then.
*****
Faces were drawn and dirty. People huddled in corners, talking low and gripping their charms. Not used to doing nothing, they all seemed agitated. I tried to think of something to lead them in, laughing to myself when I thought of our mass exercise classes in the Woodlands. I could just see myself jumping up and down in front of them, flailing my arms like a demented, flightless bird. Flashes of gold tassels flapping across shoulders sucked the humor from my head. They were the reason we were here.
A loud banging pulled me from my vengeful thoughts. In the far right corner, a man kicked a door with unhappy enthusiasm. When I got closer, I saw it was Frederick.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my eyes focused on the giant, boot-sized dent in the door.
“I just want to be alone,” he said, frustrated. I understood that. This was one open space. There was no privacy. I agreed and started kicking the door as well, the shock of it not giving, shooting shockwaves of pain up my leg.
Finally, the lock snapped and splinters of wood flew everywhere, like sharp rain. We pushed door gingerly and saw that it lead to a stairwell. It went down one flight and up about six, until I could see a fragment of open sky overhead. Frederick patted my arm. “Thank you. I just need some time to think about Hana without everyone watching me.”
I put my hands behind my back, standing on my tiptoes to try to catch his eyes. “Do you want some company?”
He shook his head slowly. “No, thank you. Don’t take this the wrong way, little rabbit, but you remind me of her.”
“Oh, that’s ok. I understand.” As he swung around the first handrail, I said, “Can you just let me know when you come down? I want to know that you’re safe.”
“Sure,” he said as he took two steps at a time with his extended limbs.
I closed the door and left Frederick to mourn. Something I felt I couldn’t quite do yet, because I wasn’t sure who I was mourning.
*****
I returned to my little rectangle of concrete and stared at my hands, picking out the dark creases that ran across my palm like rivers of mud. When Frederick tapped me on the shoulder an hour later, I felt like he had zapped me with a stunner.
“You should go. It will be good for you,” he said, pointing to the door and upwards.
I got up and made my way over to the door, tripping over people and ducking when I saw Pelo. After only twenty-four hours in here, I felt like I needed air, even if it was ashy. I wanted to taste the wind. Pushing the door open, I ran up the stairs.
I reached the top, and the howl of the wind brought me back to the bodies buried in ash. Gulping, I put my hand over my mouth. This was where the rest of the car park had broken off and slid towards the Hole. I crept towards the edge and peered over. It all looked so precarious, so ready to crumple and squash everyone inside. I shook my head and pulled back, the tips of my ears and nose screaming for warmth. I turned back and scanned the level. Everything was violently snapped in half. Although this violence had happened hundreds of years ago, it still lived in this gaping lesion of a building.