The Wounded

The records showed we had lost 281 people. That included Gwen and the others lost on the retrieval mission. The rest were mostly elders.

I stopped walking, my sneakers rubbing over the rounded edge of a cobblestone, and heaved a difficult breath. Everything kept getting stuck. My moments of happiness were shreds that twisted around a much bigger knot of fear and grief.

“What’s wrong?” Joseph had his hands on my shoulders, but I was looking past him. I was in the mess of bodies, searching for Deshi. I wasn’t here.

He shook me a little. “Rosa?”

I blinked, the shutter rising a little. “I miss Deshi,” I said, which was only half of what I was feeling, but I was trying to let it out in small bits.

Joseph found my hand and wrapped his warm fingers around my balled-up fist. “Me too…” His eyebrows rose, and he smiled at me. “I almost forgot. Um, before you go to see Mr. Sunshine, come home. I want to show you something.”

I shrugged. I was in no rush to see Pietre. Joseph had been seeing to his medical needs since he was released from hospital and, from all accounts, he was being the same surly, self-pitying ass he always was.

Joseph dragged me up the hill.

*****

Our home was still our home but, now that I knew Woodland soldiers had picked their way through it, it felt stained. Tainted. I couldn’t stand that they had been here, peeking into our lives. I knew Joseph felt it too. He always stepped over the threshold uneasily, like he was waiting for someone to jump at him. But today, when we got to the front door, all we could hear was Orry making nonsense sounds and Odval clapping her hands.

I was starting to wonder how Orry could do the things he did. How he could bind and break me at the same time. Was this what it felt like to be a mother, or was there something wrong with me?

Joseph took my hand and led me inside. Odval registered our presence, and then returned her gaze to Orry, who lay on the floor with his head up. He saw me and mumbled, “Mm, ah, mm, ah.”

I put my hand over my mouth, my teeth grazing my fingers. Joseph placed his hand in the small of my back and pushed me forward. I knelt down at the edge of the rug and watched Orry rock back and forth on his knees. Odval started to clap. I eyed her suspiciously, wondering what she was clapping about. Then Orry rocketed forward, his face adorably stern, as he concentrated all his strength on pulling himself to me.

Before I could stop myself, I was clapping, squealing, and talking in an a

There was a swell. Something small at first, that climbed higher and took over. It was sweet and filled me to bursting. It was pride. I swung him around and around and laughed. I was really getting it now. This was why. If nothing else, we had to preserve this.

I hugged him close to me and breathed in the soft smell of his hair. His unique baby-ness. Joseph went to take him from me, but I wouldn’t let him go.

“Not yet,” I said, clutching him closer. I looked into those weird eyes of his and cocked my head to the side. “What other amazing things can you do?”

A big blob of dribble fell out his mouth and landed on my toe. I laughed loud, my ribcage rattling from it. “Oh, that’s very impressive!”

Odval patted my shoulder, “It is. Very.” She crinkled her kind eyes at me. “Making you laugh like that is a true talent. We need more laughter.”

The fridge opened, and Joseph’s voice carried over the door. “You staying for di

“No thank you, Joseph. I’m having Pelo over for di

I paused and chose not to react. I hadn’t seen Pelo since we had found Apella. Joseph was oblivious. “Oh, that’s nice. Tell him hi from me.”

“I will,” she said shyly, looking to me for a response and receiving nothing but silence. She left.

I swung Orry onto my hip and told Joseph I was going to take him with me. I needed a buffer between Pietre and me. Joseph frowned but let me go.

*****

The door was ajar, warm air tu

“Who is it?” Pietre’s voice growled.

“It’s me, Rosa,” I squeaked.

I heard a groan and a shuffle as I pushed my way inside.

He sat up on a crusty, old couch, his face as squished and contorted as the cushions. One leg was up on the coffee table, the other a stump covered in bandages.

“What do you want?” he scowled up at me.

I searched for somewhere to sit and found a chair covered in dirty laundry. I pushed it to one side with a look of distaste and squeezed myself in.

“I just came to see how you were doing since the…” Don’t say leg being chopped off, I warned myself. “Um… since the surgery.”

“Stupid question,” he snarled, looking down at where his leg used to be.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said, staring at the floor, which was covered in fluff and other indescribable bits of dirt.

Silence floated between us for what seemed like ages. Everything was filthy, the whole place screamed to be cleaned. It smelled like rotten cabbage, and Pietre himself looked like he could use a wash down but I wasn’t going to volunteer for that job. I tapped my chin, wondering what I could say to make him feel better.

“Pietre, it stinks in here,” I said, abandoning pleasantries. It was our way, so why pretend now? “Here, take Orry,” I said, plopping the clueless child in Pietre’s lap. Pietre’s face was misery and self-pity, and I couldn’t stand it. I looked away from him and went to the window, throwing open the curtains. It unearthed all the dirt covering the floors and shot waves of dust into to air. I sneezed. Orry laughed, and Pietre gave him a peculiar look, like he wasn’t sure the baby was quite human.

I rolled my eyes. “It’s just a baby. So really, you two should get along fine.” I stormed out of the room and went to clean out the refrigerator.

As I moved through every inch of Pietre’s home, small pieces of conversation drifted towards me like music. My initial reaction was to gag. Pietre was cooing to my kid and blowing raspberries. I heard my child clapping. Then Orry started to cry. A low and beautiful thrum wove its way soothingly through the house washing down the walls. A warm, deep voice, a song I’d never heard, but felt in time with.

It’s up to you

And it’s not fair

Nothing you do comes out easy in the end

The sound and intention behind it was so soft and sweet. I honestly couldn’t believe it came from Pietre.

You’re only new

But it has begun

You’ll reach for stars and they’ll fall down as much as they shine

Please don’t cry

I’m in it with you

We’re all part of the same chain, the same fight

I paused in the doorway, letting the chorus trickle over me. The heartbreaking truth of it wracked me.

Time ticks forward

Time takes away

It will take you away

Away from me

We’re fighting against the seconds

But they always catch you in the end

They always catch you in the end

He was right. We were always fighting, against time, against each other. It never ended, and it never got easier.

I hovered through the house, stripping sheets and dusting the sills, with Pietre’s amazing singing voice stalking me, the words of his song echoing in my own heart. So much of what I felt was in that one chorus. I was baffled.

Everything was always unexpected. I would never have guessed that Pietre was some kind of baby whisperer. The knowledge that he had this soft side had a weird effect on me, turning my stomach and warming my heart at the same time.

I hung in the arch between the kitchen and the living room, watching the two boys interact. I spoiled it by breathing too loudly. Pietre’s head snapped to me, and the moment was broken.