The Wall

“Ok, ok. I know,” he said. Rubbing his chin, he pointed at Joseph. “How does he make you feel?”

I closed my eyes, dreaming, thinking of Joseph’s warm arms around me, his soft lips parting mine. The way he pressed me up against a tree and buried his face in my hair, kissing my neck, sliding his hand down my arms to my waist.

“Like gold,” I whispered, forgetting I was answering a question, forgetting there was someone staring at me. I opened my eyes and my cheeks flushed hot at Cal’s intense gaze.

“Hmm. Like gold,” Cal gri

“I suppose. I mean, in old terms, I guess I’m half-Indian, half-Spanish.” It felt strange to say it. These terms were rarely used in Pau, ba

Cal stared at me a long time, picking over my features, his eyes pausing over my nose, my ears, my neck, and to my chest. I wanted to kick him. He returned to my eyes and kept peering, until I coughed and turned away, giving my attention to the baby as I wrapped him and tried to rock him to sleep. The way Cal looked at me was completely foreign. I didn’t know whether to be scared or flattered.

“Interesting,” he said, peculiarly fascinated. “Those eyes…” He stopped talking mid-sentence and pulled out a small reader from his pocket. At least that’s what I thought it was, until he started typing things in and reading. I was curious but something told me not to get too close, so I hovered above him from my bed.

“What about Hema?” I screwed up my nose; it sounded too much like Hessa. He laughed, a low sound that didn’t quite touch his eyes. It sounded like Joseph and I didn’t want to put the two together in my mind. “Ok, maybe not.” He returned to the screen. “Oriole, Orville, Hemen, Kunal, Orlando, Kin, Jin, Paz.”

“Wait. Go back a few.”

“Kin?”

“No.”

“Orlando?”

I paused. Orlando. I turned it over in my head, pulling it out and laying it across the child like a blanket. Orlando. He opened his eyes and looked at me. One blue and one brown eye framed with long, blond eyelashes. My eyes, Joseph’s frame. I wondered if there was a nice-sounding name for defective. Probably not. I let out a giggle. No, Orlando fit, a beautiful name for a beautiful child, a one-of-a-kind child. Something materialized in me, or maybe was there all along, and now it was making its presence strongly felt. When I looked at this baby, I saw beauty. I saw love. The co

I nodded. “Orlando is good.”

Cal was looking at me with a quizzical expression. He opened his mouth to speak but Matthew entered the room, flanked by two women I didn’t recognize.

He just stared at me with tired, worried eyes and I knew what he was going to say. I watched his lips moving slowly, noticing the dryness in the corners. The words came out like they were underwater. A dull thrumming noise that I understood to mean ‘Apella will probably lose her baby’ and the words not spoken, ‘It’s your fault’. I felt the pain of his words, each one smarting like the lash of a cane. Leaving a message slapped into my skin, a debt I could not repay.

“Can I see her?”

He shook his head. “Give her some time,” he said, his usually bright face looking worn, tired. I felt so very sorry for him. He seemed to have invested so much in our well-being and I could tell this was weighing on him heavily. If the operation wasn’t successful, Apella’s sacrifice would be for nothing.

I wanted to say something comforting but all that I could think was: You have to make this work and you better make this work. So I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to add to the pile of rocks and bodies Matthew already had teetering atop his shoulders.

He managed a weak smile, thin-lipped, no teeth. “We’ll take him now. If you want to say something, now would be the time.”

I nodded. “I just need to put the baby, I mean, Orlando, to bed.” Matthew raised his eyebrows at the name but didn’t comment. I padded off quickly. I laid the child down in his cot across from my room. My eyes washed softly over the tiny bundle. If Joseph didn’t survive—at the thought of this I felt my insides turning to stone, like a snap frost it crept up my spine and spread like poison—would I be able to make this work? Unfortunately, I knew the answer, so I didn’t finish my thought.

I walked back to my room slowly, inching my feet forward. I felt like I was moving through high grass and there were animal eyes on me, waiting to pounce. Matthew was watching me too, hands on his hips, tapping his feet. He was anxious to get moving. Drawing it out was not going to help. Invisible arms shoved me forward. I tripped over myself and into the room.

Cal was still sitting in a chair, looking at his feet. I moved to Joseph.

His face was a memory. I filled in the spaces, inserted pink to his yellow skin, added weight to his thi

The nurses disco

“This will take all night, Rosa. I suggest you try and sleep,” Matthew said, rubbing his tired, creased forehead.

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, sure thing.” As if I could sleep.

Now it was just Cal and me.

“Do you know what they are going to do to him?” I asked, blinking away stray tears.

He looked up from his feet, his eyes hopeful. “No, but Matt’s very good, the best.”

Something was stirring in me. Old feelings of curiosity long suppressed. “How did he get that way? I mean, do you have Classes like we do?”

Cal laughed at me, and I hardened. I glared at him and he swallowed the laugh like a bitter pill. “No. No Classes. Matt wanted to be a doctor so he studied to become one.”

This was an amazing and confusing revelation for me. People could choose their path in life? The idea of that amount of freedom was, surprisingly, a little terrifying. And like that, the seductive distraction of finding out more about the Survivors took over. I leaned into Cal intensely. “What else can you tell me?” His cheeks were pink, surprised by my sudden closeness.

“Not much, I’m afraid. I’m not supposed to say much until you take the pledge. Besides, you really need to see it for yourself.”

“The what?”

Cal explained that all survivors had to take a pledge. It was a way of securing your allegiance, to the secrecy of their home and also to each other. Everyone had to take care of each other and help any other survivors who came along, which was not many, apparently. We were the first in many, many years and the only known escapees of the Woodlands. So that’s what Matt meant when he said it was his duty. It sounded nice but a tiny warning light was flashing, a faint, red glow. Was I swapping one cult for another?

“So you can’t tell me anything?” I sighed.

He responded to my obvious disappointment, eager to impress. “I can show you some things,” he said, extending his hand. I eyed it apprehensively. I wasn’t sure, and I really should have stayed right where I was. I talked myself into it; waiting was not going to achieve anything anyway. I took his hand. It was warm and dry. A shiver ran through me, a reminder, and I let go abruptly. I walked to the cot to check on the baby. Hopefully, he would sleep for at least an hour. “Ok, lead the way.”