The Wall

We had an uneasy friendship or not even that really—we were dependent on him for food so I had to be nice to him. But I felt like he was watching me all the time, the eyes I once thought were warm and bright, now looked more solid and sticky. I usually tried to prioritize his work so I could get him out of the house quicker. But he always came back with more. At the moment, I was fixing a bunch of drawers he said wouldn’t open and shut properly. Joseph said I should tell him to get lost. It wasn’t that easy though. At least this way there was a definitive amount of time he would spend here. I had no doubt he would come up with other excuses to visit anyway. I felt sorry for him. He seemed lonely.

Cal was a good resource for information too. I asked him questions about the town while I worked.

“So how does the government work here? I mean, it seemed a little disorganized to me. The way people were yelling and arguing,” I asked as I planed down the edge of the drawer, noticing it looked like someone had kicked the base in with their foot.

“What do you mean?” Cal said, staring at my dark hands as I smoothed the edge of the drawer, getting covered in sawdust.

“Is there one ruler, you know, like the Superiors? The man with the plait looked like he had the final say in things.”

“No, not really. People nominate themselves and they get chosen by a lottery draw. There are five leaders at any one time and they rotate them every six months.” It couldn’t have been more different from the Woodlands.

I dusted my hands off and went to pull myself up. Cal extended his hand but I declined. He looked angry, for a second, and then he forced a smile to his face. “Thanks for the work, Cal. I’ll let you know when I’m done,” I said, trying to get rid of him.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asked, his face twisted, his hand gripping the back of the chair too hard. His emotions swayed in and out of control like this. One minute he was fine, the next he seemed like he would explode with anger.

I waved my hand dismissively, “No, no. I just have a lot to do. It won’t be very interesting for you.” Please let that work.

He jumped up and down, his voice sounding childlike, “Oh I do find it interesting. I don’t mind.”

I wiped my forehead. “Please don’t be offended, Cal, but I find it quite hard to work with people staring at me. I don’t even like Joseph hovering over me when I’m working.”

He looked hurt but he hung on to the last thing I said. “So you don’t let him watch you work but you let me, at least for a little while?” He said it like he was wi

“I guess…”

This seemed to satisfy him. He got up, touching the end of my plait on the way out. I shuddered. I hadn’t told Joseph about Cal’s inappropriate behavior. He already disliked him without adding to it. We needed the food he brought in return for my work. For now, I had to put up with it.

Orry was with Joseph at the hospital today so it was quiet. Only wood creaking and the sounds of my tools punctuated the silence. I loved it. I emptied my mind and focused on the details before me, the simplicity of the grain, the rough give of the timber, as I turned it from something boring to something useful.

I jerked my head to the window when I thought I heard someone walking by the side of the house. I got up, rubbing the back of my neck, and peered out the window but no one was there. People were close here. It wasn’t unusual to see someone poke their head in your window to ask for something. In Pau, I never even knew our neighbors’ names.

I abandoned Cal’s drawers and pulled out something I had been working on for myself. Under our bed was a toy train. I had carved the main engine roughly. I was basing it on the picture on the brochure we had followed so many months ago. It seemed fitting. I was turning it over in my hands, trying to work out what to do next, when I saw a reflection in the mirror facing opposite the bedroom window. It was fast but I swear I saw dark brown curls. I laid the train down carefully on the bed and went into the icy yard to investigate. I ran quickly. The cold was biting as I hadn’t put a jacket on. I walked up one side of the little shack and then doubled back to the front. Cal was skulking down the front path.

“Cal!” I yelled sharply.

Maybe I should have ignored him, let him go, but I was furious. I didn’t like being watched. And I wondered if this was the first time. He hunched his shoulders and turned around. Face pink, he looked at me guiltily. “Were you spying on me?” I could feel my face getting hot.

“I… I’m sorry. I forgot something,” he stammered, lying.

I thought about it for a millisecond then I walked right up to him, probably closer than was necessary, and said through gritted teeth, “Yes, I think you did. Come get your drawers. I’m not working for you anymore.”

The apology ran from his face like melting candlewax, revealing pure anger. Anger and humiliation. He stormed into the house, picking up the drawers, dropping them several times as he went, and stormed out again. I should have left it there, but I didn’t. I held open the door and as he passed me, I muttered, “I know you broke them on purpose.”

He turned to face me, his body shaking. He shrugged. It was exaggerated, like he would dislocate his shoulders with the abrupt force of it. He sighed and stared at me, his eyes blinking away tears. He looked like he wanted to say something but he couldn’t get the words out. Then he clattered away, throwing the drawers under a tree, and hopping on a passing spi

I was relieved. I could have handled it better but I also could have handled it worse. Hopefully, he would get over it and move on. Whatever his fixation on me was, it was over.

I returned inside and put the kettle on the hearth, warming my hands around it as the water boiled. There was always comfort in these everyday things. The kettle whistled and I made some tea. The people here had technologies, but chose to live simply, hence the wood stove, the candlelight. I loved the contradiction of it, the choice of it.

I watched the steam wind its way up to the ceiling, feeling a pull in my chest. I tried not to look back but occasionally, without meaning to, my brain tu

The sky was darkening. I closed the shutters and went outside to grab some wood. Joseph would be home soon with Orry. Mrs. ‘what’s her face’ would be coming over with di

I worked until Joseph returned. My hands were rough and dusty.

We ate our di

Orry was fast asleep in the cot I’d made, snoring and rumbling in the corner of the modest living room.

I knew I was being unfair. And part of me didn’t even know why I was behaving this way. But I still felt that backwards feeling.

We went to bed early. It was still light, although darkening fast. Lying next to him, I was scared to open my mouth but also scared not to. After what had happened that first night, something needed to be said.

He spoke before I could. “I’m sorry about that night.” Ever since we’d almost slept together, things had been awkward between us. We had avoided the subject for way too long.