The Wall

“I hope you’re right.” Maybe this was what he saw in me. I provided the counter weight to his over-trustfulness.

I tried to close my eyes but they wouldn’t comply. The brown liquid was swimming in my stomach and fizzing in my brain, but I didn’t feel like talking anymore.

I turned around to face him. His eyelids were fluttering. The drink seemed to have little effect on him. On both sides the world was buzzing and falling away. The spi

My nose was millimeters away from his. I leaned in a fraction and they touched. He opened his eyes drowsily at first but they quickly brightened. He put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer. It was uncomfortable because the table hung over the bench, the harsh plastic pressing into my side, but I didn’t really care. I closed my eyes and found his lips. We needed to make up for the time we’d lost and we could do that now. My hands and feet were jittery. My mind darted all over the place. Questions I shouldn’t ask popped into my head like—did you dream when you were in the coma? What were you thinking when you were ru

His hands were ru

“Sorry,” he said, eyes downcast. “Was that not ok?”

“It was fine. I’m just jittery from that brown stuff.” No one told me reunions would be this hard, but then no one told me much of anything. I was searching for some middle ground. We had already skipped several important steps. Now it seemed he couldn’t wait to skip some more.

He seemed hurt. “Are you ok?” I asked.

“Yeah. It’s just… this is hard. Now that you’re not pregnant and the baby isn’t standing between us, literally. And Matt said I’m pretty much healed…” He looked down at the table, tracing patterns with his fingers. “It’s really hard to keep my hands off you.”

If it’s possible, my dark face went a shade of deep red. Well, that’s what it felt like anyway. What he said was thrilling, intoxicating, kind of scary, but in a good way. I put my hand over his and tried to still it.

I smiled at him. “Close your eyes,” I said. He pursed his lips but did so.

“Now what? Are you going to disappear?” he asked, clicking his fingers.

I moved towards him slowly, climbing towards his chest until our faces were level. He started moving his hands towards my hips. But I put them at his side. I could tell he was frustrated by the consternated look on his face but he kept them there. I started at his neck and made my way to his face slowly. When I got to his mouth, I parted his lips with my own and let my tongue run along the underside of the upper one. He exhaled slowly through his nose, like it hurt. Then we kissed properly, softly at first, but passion and want getting the better of us. To have this almost felt like too much. Like I didn’t deserve it.

Orry’s rustling interrupted us. Joseph sat up straight and went to attend to him immediately. I put my hands on his chest, holding him where he was. He looked at me, concerned. I put my finger to my lips. “Sh!”

Orry let out a small cry, turned his head, then his fingers found his mouth and he settled himself. We both relaxed, but Joseph looked upset. His hands clasped in front of him and his hair covered his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, bumping him with my shoulder.

Joseph shook his head. “It’s just that I’ve missed so much. I wish I’d been around to learn these things about him with you.”

I thought about it. If Joseph had been awake, if he had been with Orry from day one, I wonder how different things would have been. I knew the answer. It was a bizarre alternate universe we had ended up in but, in a way, I was glad it had happened like this. I needed time on my own with Orry or I may have never bonded with him. When everyone stepped out of the line, I was left with no choice. It was hard but somehow I got there. Well, was still getting there.

All I said was, “You didn’t miss much. You’ll catch up soon enough.”

We talked about everything he had missed with Orry. How he liked being wrapped tight. How if he was awake, he wanted to sit up. How he never seemed to have a pattern for feeding. Joseph listened and nodded with this awestruck look on his face. I realized maybe Deshi was right; I knew everything about my child. I had paid attention.

Barely thinking at all but needing to get at least one thing out the way, I blurted, “Hessa and Orry aren’t brothers.”

Joseph looked at me semi-surprised but mostly curious.

“Is this about Deshi’s little tantrum before?” he said unkindly.

I never thought I would be defending Deshi but I responded with, “It wasn’t a tantrum. I think he has a right to be upset. He needs to know that we support him looking after Hessa on his own, that we aren’t going to take him away.”

“I don’t know. I always thought we would all be together,” Joseph said.

I started to panic a little. I couldn’t look after both of them. Joseph seemed to notice and he stroked my head gently.

I took a deep breath. “Look. I know it’s hard for you, but while you were sleeping, life kept on going. Deshi cared for Hessa exclusively. I don’t think we could separate them even if we wanted to. They are each other’s family now.” He looked down and I could tell he was considering it carefully.

“All right. For now anyway, Hessa stays with Deshi.” That would have to be good enough. I suspected he could see the sense in it but didn’t want to give in all the way as a matter of principle.

After a few hours, I was still buzzing from the drink but I could see Joseph was getting sleepy. It had been a ridiculously long day. He had just begun to feel better, was allowed to have visitors, and then all hell broke loose. Now we were on our way to the Survivors’ settlement. The place and people Apella and Alexei had been searching for. The place neither of us thought existed. I was excited and nervous. There was so much we still didn’t understand about these people, but like it or not, we were survivors now too.

I still hadn’t answered his question about Apella and, thankfully, he didn’t bring it up again. Hopefully, we would have time to talk about it later.

After a while, I could hear him snoring. He had fallen asleep sitting up. I tried to move him but he was much too heavy. Asleep, it felt like he weighed two-hundred kilos. I shoved a jacket behind his head and snuggled into his chest, still shivering every time I looked out the window.

The world was racing by. I didn’t like it. I wanted to walk out into the snow, touch it, smell the pines, and let the cold air burn my lungs. Being behind a wall, even if it was clear, was too much like being enclosed, captured. Now that I had experienced real freedom, I’m not sure I would ever get used to walls again. Walls loomed, leaned in, and whispered nasty things in your ears. They imposed and imprisoned. I hated them.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. I would get back there soon. I had to. I was like a bendy, juvenile tree. Without the air and sunlight, I wouldn’t thrive. I would slowly kneel to the ground, my trunk cracked and splitting, and wither.

I took Joseph’s warm hand in my own; he murmured something but didn’t wake. I told myself, one thing at a time. Don’t want everything at once—don’t demand things from these people. They have helped you. Be kind and try to listen. But I knew I wouldn’t listen, not even to myself. I had to wait. Wait and see what this place was like before I made any decisions.