The Wall

He didn’t turn around but I thought I saw the corner of his face lift a little. But then I added more quietly but so he could definitely hear me, “And don’t tell Joseph about any of this,” and it fell just as quickly.

I stared down at The Line. Simple white chalk scratched into the pavement. And I watched myself willingly, and almost eagerly, step right on over it.

I dozed off after Matthew left, the mix of painkillers and my terrible headache pulling me under. I awoke to the sound of clanking saucepans and men laughing. And for a moment, I had the wonderful feeling that I was outside. That I was walking through the forest, my hands grazing the low branches of the juvenile pines, my fingers sticky with sap.

As the noise got closer, I remembered where I was and I reluctantly opened my eyes to face the cold, white walls and shiny, metal bedframes. The hospital was empty save a few nurses and one coughing old man they had bedded in the far corner.

Deshi was striding in with Orry in his arms, the child’s wide eyes drawn to the light that bounced off shiny surfaces. Joseph was loping towards me with a pack slung over his shoulder, a big grin plastered on his face.

“Surprise,” Joseph exclaimed, flipping his foot out and looking like the cowboy on the can of corn from so long ago.

I rolled my eyes. What now?

Deshi stepped back and ran his eyes over my whole body, rolling back on his heels. “Well, you look a little better.” He smiled darkly. His eyebrows rising at my sorry state.

“I’ve been beat up—what’s your excuse?” I said, instantly wanting to pull the comment back into my mouth. Deshi reacted ever so subtly, giving me a short, disapproving glance before turning his attention to Orry, holding him up under his arms and swinging him over to me. I held out my hands eagerly and grabbed my son with greedy fingers.

I kissed Orry’s forehead and sat him up in the crook of my arm. He felt so warm, so secure in my arms. I shook my head a little, regretting what I was pla

“What’s going on?” I asked suspiciously to the two beaming boys.

Joseph’s demeanor was so different to that of before but then Deshi had that effect on him. “We’re going to have our date.” A nurse walked past, her eyes on him swinging that pack around. He was whirling around, pots and pan clanging against each other. I looked up at him and smiled, a rare, all-my-teeth kind of smile. He stepped back and collided with a trolley full of medical supplies. “Whoops, sorry,” he muttered sheepishly to the nurse, who clucked her tongue as she knelt down to help him clean up the mess.

I stood up and tried to smooth down my hair, reminded of my lovely bald patch. “Did you get me a hat?” I asked, keeping my hand over the prickly, shaved part.

Deshi tossed me a knitted, wool cap, which I pulled down over my head as quickly as I could.

“Why don’t you guys go? I’ll take care of this,” Deshi said. I watched him move elegantly around the mess, unlike Joseph, whose big body sometimes moved out of sync with the rest of him. He knelt down and started sweeping cotton buds into his palm.

He was such a good friend, to both of us. I wondered if his heart was healing. Since my attack, his attitude towards me had shifted. His voice no longer had that bitter edge to it. He seemed at peace with how things had turned out. I hoped it wasn’t wishful thinking.

“Umm, just a minute. I need to speak to Matthew to make sure he’s ok with me leaving.” They both looked at me like I’d gone crazy.

“Since when do you ever ask for permission to…?” Deshi started, but I was already walking slowly towards the double doors, feeling weightless and floaty from my mix of drugs. I hoped they would wear off soon.

Joseph stood to accompany me but I waved him off. “I’ll meet you out front,” I said.

I pushed open the door and slipped through, feeling a chill from within I couldn’t explain. Looking left and then right, I could see Matthew at the far end of the corridor walking away from me. I shouted out, but my voice was swallowed up by the long hallway. Its steep ceiling carried my crackly voice up into the rafters. It seemed wherever the Survivors lived, noise was absorbed. I wondered whether quietness was a valued quality in the people who used to live here before us. I snorted at the thought of my loud and unruly presence in such a society. Giving up on shouting, I padded after Matthew, my body dipping and swaying a little as I skidded along the shiny floor in my socks.

I was just about to call his name again when he stopped abruptly and entered a room.  And for some reason, at that moment, I didn’t want him to see me. I stopped and hid behind a pillar until I heard the door swing shut.

Some things you just know. I hated to believe it but somehow being attacked linked me to him and if I were a spitting person, I would have spat on the floor at the thought of it. But as soon as Matthew stopped, I knew he was entering Cal’s room. And even though every inch of me wanted to scurry away from there like a cowardly mouse, I found myself being pulled to the door, my shadow dragging behind me kicking and screaming.

I peered in the window and there he was. Small, weak. The wire lattice set in the glass made him look, pleasingly, like he was imprisoned. He was hooked up to so many machines he looked like an octopus. He was facing Matthew, talking. The good doctor checked his pulse, adjusted the dripping bag above his bed, and started walking towards me. I tried to duck down quickly but my responses were so slow I found myself looking right in his baffled face.

Thankfully, he remained composed until he was out of the room.

“Rosa, what are you doing?” he asked, bewildered.

My face was loose; I felt like if I spoke, something would fall off. “I just wanted to see if you had organized the meeting?” I said meekly.

Matthew dipped his head and rubbed the crinkle between his eyebrows. The one I’m pretty sure he didn’t have until he found me. “Yes, I spoke to Gus. He has agreed to see you tomorrow, at your house at twelve o’clock.”

“Good,” I said. “What’s happening with…?” Don’t ask, I told myself. You don’t care. I stopped talking.

Matthew looked at his hands and then at me. I noticed he still wore his wedding ring. “He’s asking for you. You know he doesn’t really understand what happened, but he knows he hurt you. He wants to apologize.”

I considered it. Could I be that person? Could I be strong enough to face him, forgive him? If I was going to go in there, I would have to do it now. Joseph would be looking for me soon and he would definitely object. I sighed until all the air left my lungs, trying to expel the fear and the sense that this was a mistake. I pushed open the doors and stepped through.

“You came!” Cal’s face was alight with pleasure. He spoke like a child who had received a gift. His broad grin and pushed-up cheeks were too cheery to look at. They burned me with their brightness. He really was sick.

I stood in the doorway, leaning away, leaning back like there was a solid bubble surrounding him that I dare not penetrate. What was I doing?

I thought I could do it but the minute I saw his face, the violence of my thoughts frightened me. I wanted to smash the happy expression from his lips. Pull his head back by his disgusting, greasy curls and slam it against the metal bed frame until there was nothing left to hold onto.

I stayed frozen in the doorway, my hands shaking with their need to hurt him.

Cal looked at me with i