The Woodlands (33 page)

“
Careen, focus.”

She waved me off dismissively.
“Anyway, once Joseph heard that, he started running. Yelling at me that we had to warn you guys.” She frowned, her delicate nose pinched in concentration. “I guess they heard us or something because halfway back, we heard the choppers.” She put her hand to her heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was sick. I think I would have helped him if I’d known.” I stared down at my fingers, still splintered from working on the cabin. I was scared of what I might say if I looked at her. “When he fell down, that’s when I knew something was wrong, but by then, well, you know,” her eyes flicked to the monitors. I shuddered at the memory of him walking towards us. The way happiness had swelled inside me and then was quickly replaced with fear and throat-closing panic.

She patted his leg. So she did notice he was there.
“That’s all I know really. The green hills all around here are hollowed out. The survivors don’t live here; they send people up to keep tabs on the Superiors. They seem nice, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head,
waiting for me to respond. I just stared at her hand on Joseph’s leg, boring holes in her long, slender fingers with my narrowed eyes. Finally, she became uncomfortable and said her goodbyes. She was going to explore the rest of the mounds that day. She skipped out the door, without a care in the world.

Apella and Deshi visited me more than anyone else. Apella, ever hopeful, brought the
baby in to see me as often as she could. I knew she was caring for him, but I can’t say it bothered me. She was capable.

Deshi brought Hessa
to see me as well. I laid him on the bed in front of me, sitting cross-legged on the mattress. His big blue eyes stared at the light above my head. I stroked his dark skin and smiled. Something hummed in my chest, an uncomfortable squeezing.
I know you’re disappointed in me, Clara
. I thought of her clear eyes, everything about her was clear and pure. That was something Joseph and her shared. I snapped my head to Apella. “Can you bring the baby in here?” I asked. She darted off quickly, returning five minutes later with the boy.

I
handed Hessa to Deshi and took the baby, cradling him in my arms. I peered into his face, wondering how something that had been inside me for nine months could feel so far away. He blinked at me and scratched his cheek accidentally with his fingernail, pulling at his skin like he didn’t know it was his own.

His eyelashes were dark
, like mine, but his skin and hair were fair like Joseph’s. I traced the tips of my fingers through his wavy blonde hair, touching him as lightly as I could.

“
Why are his eyes grey?” I asked Apella as I handed him back to her. She sighed, obviously disappointed.

“
Sometimes it takes time for babies to develop eye color. Maybe in a few weeks-” she started.

“
Thanks, you can take him back now.” That beautiful green with flecks of gold I was searching for was not there. I wanted to see Joseph’s eyes again, so very much.

Deshi glared at me
with raw irritation. “If Jo saw you now, he’d be devastated. It would break his heart to see you treat his son this way.”

I crumpled. I was upset
too. I wanted to be better but I couldn’t seem to claw my way back out of the fog this time. It pegged me to the ground as I whipped and struggled. I was in a stasis of hell I didn’t know how to escape.

“
His heart’s already broken,” I whispered. And mine? I wasn’t sure where it was, floating somewhere out in the atmosphere, between the lines of blood red and purple of the sunset. It wasn’t here with me.

“
You have to try, Rosa, try harder than you’re trying. If not for yourself, try for Joseph,” Deshi pleaded.

“
That’s a lot of trying,” I sneered sarcastically.

I could feel the anger rising up in me. I knew I should stop but of course I didn
’t. I screamed at him. “And how is it that you’re so fine? You’re supposed to love him too! What would you do if we took Hessa away from you—how would you feel then?” I took it too far, as I always did. Deshi sighed and took Hessa away; his straight posture and upward glance snubbed my wretchedness. He was suffering but he didn’t let it drag him down to uselessness like me. I didn’t see him again for two weeks.

Joseph
, wake up. I knew I couldn’t do this. I told you I couldn’t, but you didn’t believe me. Your faith in me was foolish and misplaced.

Blip. Blip. Blip. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.

I couldn
’t stand the noise anymore. I’d been in here four weeks now, and I’d never left this room. The machine’s humming and Joseph’s mechanical breathing was suddenly too much. It squeezed my head and tore at my ears. Air. I needed air.

He had to be close by. I pulled on the clothes they
’d provided. Blue cotton pants, odd-looking white shoes with a red star sewn onto the side, and a white cotton t-shirt. I grabbed a jacket as an afterthought, I hadn’t been outside for a while and the weather may have changed.

I walked down the
hall, peering in doorways. It reminded me, chillingly, of being underground in the facility. My heart beat irregularly.

Three
doors down, I peered in to find Apella rocking the baby to sleep in a wooden chair. Colorful curtains hung from fake windows, pictures of toy bears were painted on the wall. A small handmade rabbit sat in the corner of his cot. When she saw my dark face, Apella startled.

I walked in quietly.
“Can I have him?” I asked, holding my hands out like I was asking for a sandwich.

“
Of course.” She handed the tiny child to me wrapped in a yellow blanket.

“
I want to go outside,” I said, hunched over the sleeping child.

“
Um, ok, I’ll have to ask…” she stuttered, pushing a red button behind her again and again, without breaking eye contact.

Matthew appeared in the door
, flanked by two nurses.

“
Rosa wants to go outside—is that permitted?” Apella asked.

Matthew
watched me as I held the baby uneasily, considering my request. “Can’t see why not. You’ve been sitting in that room four weeks now. It might do you some good to get some fresh air. Come with me,” he beckoned with a tanned finger. The nurses entered the baby’s room as we left, pretending they hadn’t been called by the emergency button, fluffing pillows and straightening sheets.

I followed Matthew
. Apella tagged along behind us. We walked in silence. Every now and then he stopped to turn lights on, a chain reaction of fluorescence pushing out the darkness. As I swept my eyes around, it was obvious that most of this vast catacomb was devoid of people.

We descended down a slope
, and then it flattened out for a while. We climbed steeply. Several steps led to a big metal door. Matthew unwound a giant metal cog and the door creaked open.

“
We’ll wait here,” he said with an unperturbed smile.

“
But…” Apella objected. Matthew was standing in front of her and she was on her tiptoes, poking her head over his shoulder, straining to catch my eyes and tell me she thought it was a bad idea.

“
We’ll wait here. Come back before it gets too dark and push here,” Matthew said as he revealed a tiny button hidden under a flap of grass, “when you’re ready to come in.” Then he shut the door and they disappeared. I ran my hand over where the door had been. Remarkable. You couldn’t feel a lump or bump or anything.

W
e’d come out on the other side of the valley. I could see our little cabin in the distance, planted sloppily in the landscape. I couldn’t see the chopper. They must have moved it. The baby snored and snuffled in my arms. He was peaceful, unaware.

With quick steps I made my way to the place I wanted to go, enjoying how light my body felt. If I
wanted, I could run. I jumped lithely across the stream and quickly made it to the cabin. It looked tiny and sad now.

After
four weeks, you’d never know I’d been pregnant. My smooth skin had bounced back perfectly. The only reminder to me was my belly button, once a perfect round dimple; it now looked like a frown, a downward facing indent in my dark brown skin.

The air
clung to me like tiny icicles as I started climbing hill. I picked my way up the incline carefully, holding the baby in one arm and steadying myself with the other. It was slow and cumbersome. The sun followed me up over the hill. Fresh smells of grass and pine filled my nose.

I reached the top and sat down. Bringing my knees up, I laid the baby down on my legs so he was facing me. I wondered what Apella thought I was going to do. I suppressed a wicked giggle at the thought of her worrying about me throwing the baby in the stream, or tossing him off the hillside. Matthew had only known me a short time but he knew me well enough to
realize I was not murderous. I was struggling but I didn’t want to hurt him. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with him.

I examined the baby
carefully. He was still sleeping, his little eyes rolling under his eyelids. I wondered what babies dreamed about. What memories did they have of their life within the womb?

“
You’ve been with me this whole time,” I said. “Your dreams are probably filled with wolves howling and chopper blades grinding into the ground. Your father talking and laughing.”

Tears came easily.

“You heard Aunt Clara screaming when she brought your cousin Hessa into the world.” I frowned, wondering if that was the right word, cousin. “You heard me crying when she slipped away. You probably even felt my heart beating so fast every time your father kissed me or even touched my hand.”

I stroked his
tiny, blonde head. He looked nothing like me. What part of him was me?

“
What should I do?” I asked the sky. The sun was setting, a muted, streaky sunset, mostly yellows and oranges. I imagined Joseph was here, but he was standing back from me, waiting. This decision was mine to make.

I unwrapped the
baby, inspecting him closely. A tiny, scooped nose, a heart-shaped mouth, I shrugged. These were features I’d seen on every other baby. He was defenseless, small, but strong. He kicked his leg inadvertently.

“
You’re a fighter like me, aren’t you?” I cooed, tapping his bare belly lightly, something stirring in me I couldn’t identify.

He opened one eye
lazily. So there it was—his eyes were blue. I was disappointed, I was hoping for that beautiful green of his father’s eyes.

“
How about this? I’ll make a deal with you,” I said as I let him grab my finger, curling and uncurling. “I’ll try. I’ll try harder.”

He opened the other eye
, yawning and showing me his gummy mouth and milk-stained tongue.

I gasped, m
y heart beating strangely. Steady but fast. Warmth creeping in. Not a surge of it, not an instant flood, more like a slow drip, edging its way in softly and certainly.

One blue eye and one brown
.