The Wanted

But they were all I had.

I breathed in. Filling my lungs with something other than false air and perfume.

Do you remember our first kiss?

To me, it was an explosion. A realization that maybe I could be more and have more than scowls and disappointment. Your lips… I clutched my chest, a sharp pang stretching and snapping over my heart. This hurt almost as much as it helped. His lips had felt like a home I never thought I could have. One I definitely didn’t deserve.

I let out a strained, “Oh.”

I didn’t feel that way now. Joseph was mine. It took me a long time to believe it, to accept it.

I reached out to the air and felt him settle beside me on the bed. If he were here, he would wiggle his arm under my torso. I’d complain that it was digging into my back. I’d roll towards his chest, and he’d fold over me. I’d say, Your arm weighs a hundred kilos! It’s suffocating me. He would chuckle, and I would revel in the sound. I would want to make it solid and wear it. I’d sling my leg over his and try to cover him with my small, insubstantial body. His heart would beat steadily; mine would rattle and jump impatiently.

‘I love you’ were words I wouldn’t need to say. They existed in our intertwined limbs, our mixing breath. Our beautiful child.

“Orry,” I whispered. It had been weeks. Was that too long? Would he know me?

A tear slid across my cheek and into my ear.

She didn’t knock. She slipped through the door and stepped lightly over the carpet until she was standing over the bed, her hands pressed into the sheets as she leaned over my still frame.

“You’re sleeping?”

I opened one eye and grimaced. “No.” I was dreaming. Awake but dreaming.

I sat up on my elbows and waited. Judith smiled. Which could have meant anything from ‘my hair looks good today’ to ‘Gwen survived.’

Judith handed me a sandwich, which I unwrapped and took a large bite.

“Well?” I snapped, my mouth full of bread. I was getting tired of her stretched grin.

Her face composed as she flicked crumbs from the quilt. She looked at me through slit eyes, silver eye shadow stuck in the folds of her lids.

“Your friend survived. I managed to slip the pills to her before the procedure. And then, when it was time to take them, I made sure everyone was looking at me,” she said grandly, pointing to her chest. “I also made sure she had privacy when it was time to void.” Her mouth screwed up unpleasantly at the word.

“Where is she? Can I see her?” I asked desperately, clutching the quilt.

She laughed, or more like cackled. “Of course you can’t see her. She’s back in the holding cells. But I can tell you she walked there. With her own two legs!” Judith said proudly, as if she’d performed a miracle.

Relief stuck in my throat. Gwen was alive, she walked, but her safety was very temporary. Each part of this plan was like climbing a crumbling staircase. Each step you mounted left the one behind disintegrating just as your foot left it. I was hanging in midair, mid-step, wondering what to do next.

I swallowed the sweet-tasting bread and asked, “So what happens now?”

She went to her dresser, sat down, and started pulling pins out of her hair or her head, who knew?

“Daddy’s procedure will take place tonight. He wants you there.”

Tonight.

I let my head fall back against the headboard. It was so soon. Too soon. My face must have said it all because Judith commented, “You needn’t look so panicked. You don’t have to do anything. In fact, the only thing you must do is nothing.”

Just do nothing.

Do nothing and watch Grant die.

JOSEPH

I did manage to vomit. All the alcohol hit at once and all my disgust in myself came charging out of me.

Rash jumped back. “Watch the shoes, man,” he yelled.

I wiped my mouth with my shirt. “Sorry.”

My head cleared enough for me to realize something. “Hey, you said I should talk to Desh about what really happened. What do you even know about it?” I asked, my words still slurred.

Rash swore and helped me up, yanking me away from the tu

I shook my head.

We stood on the railway tracks facing each other, well, me looking down on him. The clouds cleared a little, and I could just make out his stern expression.

“What do you think happens every time you disappear for some of your ‘alone’ time?” he asked, making air quotes.

“You make it sound so dirty,” I said, instantly regretting it.

Rash shoved me in the chest. “Don’t make me hit you.”

I kind of wanted him to. I slipped my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“Something we can all agree on!” Rash swore again and stared up at the stars. “Deshi is worried about you, and so are the others. He needed to talk to someone, and I was there. He told me what really happened. And don’t worry, he didn’t tell anyone else. I don’t even want to get started on the fact that you blamed Rosa for it when you told Matthew.”

I took a step back, preparing for him to punch me. But he didn’t. He sighed and reached out to me, awkwardly patting my arm. “Look, I understand guilt,” he muttered. I shook my head, I doubted it, but let him continue. “I know the faces are always there, waiting in your dreams, ready to torture you. You’ve got to let it go. You have to understand that part of the night was not your fault. You were trying to live.” He took a deep breath. “And I know I’ve given you hell, but it’s not because I don’t understand why you left her. It’s because I miss her, and I wish it had gone a different way. Honestly, I wish it had been you left on that table.”

I stepped towards him. “I wish that too, Rash. Every day.”

Rash threw his hands up in the air. “Ok. That’s enough heart to heart for me. I think I’m go

He stormed away from me, swearing and kicking rocks as he went. And it hurt me to watch him, because he was so like Rosa. But this time, I let it in. It was better to feel something than nothing at all.

He was right about everything. Look where hiding from my problems had got me. But facing them seemed impossible, like if I tried, I would lose whatever was left of me.

I had to talk to Desh.

I stayed under the bath of moonlight for a while, letting my fear subside before I moved. And I cried. I cried for what I’d lost, what I might lose, and what I might learn.

The camp was quiet. Most were sleeping. Olga was propped up in her sleeping bag, grasping a handheld. When she saw me, she blinked up, her mouth crinkled, her eyes startled.

“Sorry Olga, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” I whispered.

She clicked the off button atop the screen and dropped the handheld in her lap. “Joseph! Where have you been? I was just sending a quick message to Palma letting them know of our next move and where to meet if they want to join us for the liberation of the children and pregnant girls.” She made it sound like a party she was inviting them to.

“Right… well, I just needed to talk to Desh.” I picked over the snoring bodies until I found him, sleeping neatly on a rolled-up jacket, his hand clasped over his stomach, his face peaceful. I nudged him with my foot and he snorted.

“Desh. Wake up.”

His eyes opened slowly. “What?” he groaned, still half asleep.