The Wall

My mind shifted back through the night and the notion I might not be able to do what we did again weakened every joint in my body. I wanted to fold up like a wooden puppet and give in. It would be easy to lose myself to this, to the shrug of love, let it wrap me up and ignore all the horrible things going on around me. I sighed deeply, feeling it catch in my throat. Maybe someday that’s what I would do, but not today.

I padded out of the room as quietly as I could, feeling less and less sure. I couldn’t say goodbye. He would only try to stop me or follow me. This was best. Oh God! I hoped he would forgive me.

As an afterthought, I grabbed Orry’s carved train, clutching it reassuringly to my chest. I touched it to my chin, feeling the roughness, the unfinishedness of it. I’d broken so many promises.

I changed into my camouflaged clothing in the lounge room, grabbed my backpack, and placed the train at the bottom. Without a flourish, without an admittance or noise, I slipped out the door. I didn’t look back but my whole body was straining against my will to climb back into bed with Joseph. I walked down the street, feeling as if I was tied to my home and, with every step, the ropes were stretching and snapping. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. But I couldn’t regret what we did. Never.

What was I going to do for two hours? We were leaving at dawn. I felt restless and wasted. Tears started to come and I found myself kicking into a run and tearing down the dark streets towards the one place I thought I might find some consolation.

I rapped on the worn, wooden door frantically, my chest feeling hollow, a painful lump rising in my throat as I became more and more hysterical. No one responded so I started knocking more loudly, the skin on my knuckles busting and white. A light clicked on and I heard her creaking across the floorboards, surprised her weight even made a noise. A shadow passed in front of the curtain.

“Addy, let me in. Please,” I pleaded, pressing my forehead to the door, the ‘please’ sounding more desperate than I meant it to.

The door opened a crack and the old woman peered out into the darkness hesitantly. When she recognized me, she relaxed. “Rosa, what are you doing here? It’s four AM. Goodness child, come inside before you freeze to death.”

“I’m sorry to wake you. I’m sorry, I… oh, damn it.” Addy raised her eyebrows at my cursing but she softened when I succumbed to crying. Nothing I tried to say came out right. Nothing made sense.

Addy led me to the living room and sat in an armchair. I laid my head across her lap and soaked her dressing gown with salt water. She shushed me and stroked my hair until I calmed down long enough for me to tell her what was going on.

I lifted my head and stared into her grey eyes. “He’s going to hate me. He thinks I’m leaving him. I don’t know, maybe he’s right. Maybe I am, but not forever. Oh Addy, do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

She took both my hands and squeezed them hard, looking deep into my defective eyes, looking past them and into me.

She said, “I was told once, we can’t choose when we are born. We can’t choose when we die either. The important thing is what we do with the time we have.”

I stared at her blankly. “What do you mean? Do you think I am doing the right thing or not?” I was shaking her arms. It was like shaking a handful of barley.

“Think about it, Rosa,” she said, winking one crinkled eyelid at me.

I scrunched up my blotchy face. I wasn’t in the mood for riddles. I stared around her cluttered dwelling. Handmade dolls and little porcelain ornaments covered every available space. Crocheted rugs and scarves dripped off the ends of coffee tables and chairs. There was a lifetime of possessions here, a lifetimes worth of making, sharing, living.

Right then, I got it. This wisdom, this unearthly knowing that the crumpled-up woman had inside her, was more valuable than most things I could think of. That’s why they separated us. We can never be full, never have that understanding, when we are forbidden to seek counsel from our elders. It was very clever. Clever and evil.

Without it, we were like a packet of shiny pins, all looking for a hold, always ending up clattering to the dirt, half-buried or finding someone else’s sharpness. I felt gratitude and guilt for the privilege of being able to pin part of myself to her. The other thing I knew was, like she said, I had to make my time count for something. I had to try to save my mother and her child. Whether it was right or wrong, I was going to try and Joseph might never forgive me. The realization filled me with renewed hope and a plummet of dread.

Addy insisted on making me tea and feeding me. I knew better than to argue with her. But as the sun rose, I said my teary goodbye, hugging her and kissing her forehead, which felt like dry hessian and smelled like dried lavender.

As I walked towards the hospital, pictures of Orry floated around in my head. Orry smiling at me, blinking his odd eyes, and gurgling. The pain I felt for leaving him was so strong I could barely breathe. I should have said goodbye to him but I was too much of a coward. I knew if I saw him, saw the adoration in his eyes when he looked at me, I would never go. I felt bad I was leaving Odval out of the loop but Orry was safe with her and she knew where to find Joseph.

Goodbye, my loves. Please wait for me.

I climbed the stairs wearily. Soon, Joseph would wake and notice my absence. I should have left a note but I had no idea where to start or how to explain. Nothing I could write or say would make this hurt any less. I touched my neck and ran my finger along the edge of my pledge charm, thinking of when I was wearing nothing but that necklace and letting my breath hum out of me for a second of recollection.

Apella’s door was ajar and the soft glow of candlelight shone through the gap.

“I think you should tell her. She’s much stronger than you realize,” I heard her calm, cool voice say.

“Yes, but will it really help her to know? Won’t it just hurt her more?” I recognized Matthew’s low tones, the protective strain behind the words.

“Matt, I have come to love Rosa as a daughter and I would do anything to protect her. But she must know. She will find out eventually. So it should be sooner rather than later and in a way we can control.” Alexei’s voice was shaky but strong in its meaning.

I leaned closer to the door. My heart warmed but in an uneasy way at the word, ‘daughter’. I had no idea he felt that way about me. Did I see him as a father? Perhaps. I certainly found him embarrassing. I had affection for him but little patience. From what Joseph explained to me, that was precisely how one should feel about their father. Family was wrapping itself around me in defense. Don’t go.

I knocked lightly on the door with my knuckles. It creaked forward slightly. The room went silent. I wondered if I should pretend I didn’t hear anything. Probably.

I walked in and Apella was sitting at her kitchen table, hands warming around a steaming mug. Matthew was standing facing Alexei, who was wearing pajamas, what was left of his hair sticking straight up, with his glasses sitting too loosely on the end of his nose. What a ridiculously awkward man he was.

I kept my eyes on Matthew. “Just tell me. I don’t want to be lied to anymore. Whatever it is, just say it.” So much for pretending I didn’t overhear.

Matthew stood over me. His blue eyes shone in the candlelight but were barely able to draw attention away from the dark circles that hung under them. He put his hand on my shoulder. “Cal passed away earlier tonight.”