The Wall

Cal gri

He pulled up suddenly and turned to face me. In the dark, I could barely make him out and I slammed right into his stationary body with a thud. We were both panting, breathless. I laughed. So did he.

Once I couldn’t hear footfalls anymore, another sound was pushing up out of the darkness. Barking.

The air was heavy down here. Cal found my hand and I didn’t pull away because I couldn’t see where I was going anymore. It made me feel intensely uncomfortable and I was starting to regret my decision. He placed my hand on a metal rail, patting it once, and told me to climb down. I gripped the rails and clumsily tried to find the rungs of the metal ladder with my feet. Cal was right behind me and stepped on my hands.

“Ouch! Watch it,” I snapped

Cal scoffed, “Whoops, sorry.”

Hitting the ground, I adjusted my eyes. I could see light again. I followed it; hearing the sounds of dogs barking, the unpleasant smell of animal closeness creeping up my nose. I came to a door. Cal opened it for me, putting his hands in the small of my back and pushing me through gently. I jerked away from his touch and stumbled into a room full of wolves.

I turned to run, my blood thumping in my ears. But Cal was just smiling casually at me, like the room was full of bu

   The wolves were jumping up excitedly, their claws click-clacking against the stone floor. Cal approached them. I squeaked out a “No,” but they knew him. They were licking his hands and he was patting their heads, pulling on their ears and talking to them.

I didn’t notice I was pi

I surprised both men when I firmly said, “No!” The dog tilted its head and planted its bum on the ground. I laughed. “Good.”

“You’re a natural,” Cal said admiringly. The man in the corner sniggered and spat on the ground.

“What is this? I mean, why have you got animals down here?” I had the sudden and ridiculous fear that maybe they ate them. I chided myself.

“This is our transportation,” Cal shrugged, like it was obvious.

My eyes grazed over harnesses, carriages, stacks of containers piled against the walls of the big, dark cavern. I gri

Joseph , please wake up.

One of the dogs sidled up to me and laid its head in my lap. I ran my hands through its fur, rough and prickly on the outer layer, but when I pushed my fingers deeper, it changed to a soft down. My happiness was attached to these feelings. A mixture of fear and love had pushed me into a tree and created the most amazing night of my life. I held my chest, afraid of my ribs parting, my heart falling out and dropping to the dirty floor to be covered in dog hair. I laughed halfheartedly as I imagined someone picking it up, dusting it off, and handing it back to me saying, ‘Here, you dropped this.’ I felt like I was going crazy. I was.

Cal played with the dogs and I watched him create mini-tornados of dog fluff and dust. Yawning. Distraction didn’t last very long. He walked over and sat next to me, our legs touching. It was too close. I edged sideways, putting a gap between us. The dog snored in my lap. I wished I were him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I blurted out, harshly.

He was taken aback but he answered me kindly. “Because I know what you’re going through.”

I snorted. How could he possibly?

“I lost my sister six months ago. She got sick. Matt tried to save her but he couldn’t.” He looked sad. Tired. Grief does that. It wears you down. So all you feel is bluntness and loneliness.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shoulders slumped, suddenly feeling so weary I could barely keep my eyes open.

“Close your eyes and rest,” he said. “I’ll wake you in half an hour.”

I didn’t reply, the heaviness of the day was pressing down on me, one life slipping away while another fought to hang on. Half an hour. I could rest and then I would go back to the room and wait. A heavy, furred head on my lap lulled me to sleep with its warmth and rough snoring.

I was ru

Cal’s face was about an inch from my own. Before I could stop him, he leaned in and tried to kiss me. Shocked, I froze. My lips set hard, my whole body stiffening like a plank of wood. I leaned back, trying to put my hands on his chest and push him away but he had a hold of them, grasping my arms at the elbow. He pushed towards me. I pulled my legs up quickly and kicked. He flew back, knocking over water bottles that made lonely, metallic, rolling sounds against the rock floor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I yelled. Dogs joined in chorus.

His eyes were unapologetic. “You just looked so beautiful lying there I couldn’t help myself,” he said with a shrug.

“Help yourself?” I should have followed my instincts in the first place. My instincts were now telling me to get out of here as soon as I could.

His face fell. “Sorry. It just gets lonely here. I thought we could be friends.”

Friends? I was furious. What was I going to tell Joseph? “Friends don’t kiss!” I said damningly.

He nodded.

I stormed out of the cave, embarrassed, angry, and ashamed. People were horrible. I thought about going back in there and punching him in the face, but thought better of it. There was a sense of violence to that kiss, a forcefulness I didn’t want to revisit. Stumbling around in the dark cursing, I found the ladder and made my way back to my room.