The Wall (The Woodlands) (35 page)

She paused and looked at me with those mixed eyes,
“Have you eaten breakfast?”

I didn
’t speak, just nodded. I knew if I opened my mouth the words ‘let me go’ would fly out and I would be back to square one. She pursed her lips at my response and then continued.

Painfully and
methodically, Doctor Yashin reached up and drew down two of the hoses that were attached to the glass coffin. She pulled them through the glass and attached them to a catheter needle. She pushed one needle into my arm, which was not too bad. But the other one, she inserted under my scalp and it hurt like hell. I scrunched up my eyes and dug my fingernails into my palms until she was done. I felt like a pincushion science experiment, a potato battery.

“
Ok. I’m going to step back now and the box will be lowered. Don’t worry. In your case, it should only take five minutes. I warn you, it will hurt a great deal.” She moved my chin so I was facing the ceiling. “Keep your head straight.” She patted my arm gently, and pulled away the sheet, disappearing from view.

I thought the being naked part would be awful but I was completely distracted by the fact that a gian
t glass box was being lowered over my body. It dangled and swayed until the mechanical arms took over and straightened it into place. I heard the sound of air sucking and knew I was sealed in. I was a spider under a drinking glass, my mind scuttling and straining to find purchase on the straight edges.
Breathe
, I kept telling myself. But I was holding it and then gasping for short bursts.

“
Relax!” I heard the doctor shout again. “It will start in ten seconds.”

I thought,
Is she joking? How could anyone relax in here?

I counted
.

O
ne, I watched all but four hoses retract from the box and the mechanical arms seal the holes with rubber stoppers.

Two
, a cycling, whirring noise began, like someone was spinning an enormous, metal wheel.

Three, something clicked into place.

Four, the whirring stopped and a humming began.

Five
, the whirring started again and sounded faster.

Six, I couldn
’t breathe. I needed to get out.

Seven, I could see blue liquid tracking down the tubes
, entering my glass sarcophagus, and a blue gas filling the box.

Eight,
I held my breath, not wanting to inhale the gas.

Nine, it felt cool when the blue liquid
hit my skin and I could feel it spreading through my body.

Ten, I had to breathe, m
y body convulsed, and I drew in the gas, which dried my throat instantly and burrowed into my insides like a thousand needles.

Now
I understood why they restrained me.
Oh my God, please. Please, someone kill me. Kill me now.

Five minutes of this was
four minutes and fifty-nine seconds too long. I screamed and strained. I lifted my hips off the table as my body fought against the pain. My eyeballs felt like they were trying to jump out my head. I was aware of every drop of that liquid as it moved through my veins, burning the vessels as it went. I prayed for death—I prayed for anything to end it. I begged for them to stop but my strangled screams were met with silence.

“
Rosa, it will end in 3… 2… 1. Try to stay awake.”

I blinked away
tears, sure my eyeballs were bleeding, sure my whole body was burnt to a crisp. But after a few seconds, the pain released its grasp on my body and I felt fine. No, better than fine. The glass coffin rose above my head, wobbling, and the doctor appeared in my view again. Carefully removing the needles, she felt my head. The clamps released and I put my hand to my head, surprised to find a few centimeters of hair had grown to cover my bald spot. I was then suddenly reminded of my nakedness and swung up to grab the sheet on the floor. The dizziness I’d been feeling from my concussion was gone. The dull ache in my wrist was gone too. I felt like I could run for miles and never tire.

I gave Deshi a look, which he returned with concern.
“I have to get back to work, Rosa. I hope you are feeling better.” He strolled quickly out of the room, anxious not to get caught up in my plans. Careen and Pietre came in right after him.

“
Cool, huh?” Careen bubbled excitedly and I couldn’t help but grin back. Yes, it was pretty impressive.

Pietre just stared down at his dirty fingernails and muttered unsympathetically,
“We could hear you screaming from the other end of the labs.”

The doctor cut my cast off and I dressed quickly under my sheet
, telling them to turn their backs as I buttoned my shirt. I didn’t miss the scoff from the boy soldier. Finished, I jumped up quickly, like lightning.

“
Thanks, Doctor,” I said casually.

“
You’re welcome,” she replied in amusement. “Just try and take it easy. You will feel strong but you will also have a reduced sensitivity to pain. I don’t want to see you back here again.” I nodded. She pulled me to her side and whispered in my ear. “I was truly sorry to hear about what happened to you.”

I blushed. I didn
’t know everyone knew about it. And it made very uncomfortable to think people pitied me.

“
Um, thanks.” I didn’t really know how to respond. She nodded and left, pressing something into Pietre’s hand as she glided out the door. He muttered to her with a scary smile on his face.

He turned to me, still hanging in the door like he didn
’t want to step into the room. “Here, take these,” he said flippantly.

Two pills flew in an arc towards me. I caught one
fuzzy-edged pill in my palm but the other rolled under a trolley.

“
Why? What for?” I stammered as Pietre let the door slowly close between us.

“
Because if you don’t, you’ll die,” he said sharply, the words slicing through the closing gap like an arrow.

I jumped off the table like a spring and scrambled to find the second pill
. Pushing the trolley aside, it clanged into the wall and bounced back towards me. My fingers grasped the powder-white disc and I carefully held it, worried my new strength would turn it to dust. I shoved them both in my mouth, feeling them grazing my throat as I swallowed them without water. I was about to yell a tirade of abuse at Pietre when a ripple of nausea rolled through me like a tidal wave. I turned to the bucket placed neatly at the foot of my bed and vomited pure blue.

Careen
’s perfect face appeared in the doorway. She cracked a pristine smile as I raised my head from my bucket. I wiped the tears from my eyes, my hands streaked blue. Puzzled, I looked to her for explanation.

“
Oh yeah,” she said, flipping her hair behind her ear. “Don’t wear any white for a while.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully with a slender, white finger. “Actually you’re safer to just wear blue for a few days. You’re gonna pee, sweat, and cry blue.”

“
Fascinating,” I said sarcastically as I turned back to my bucket to continue emptying the contents of my stomach. Now I understood why the doctor seemed displeased that I had eaten.

I heard a tapping. I followed Careen
’s foot to her face. “What?” I asked, irritated.

She looked uncomfortable.
“Um, we’ll just wait outside until you’re finished, ok?”

I was about to say,
‘fine’, when the rumble of nausea overtook me again.

The door pressed shut.

As we left, after the vomiting fireworks, I asked Dr. Yashin what the pills were for.

“
The liquid can’t stay in your system for more than fifteen minutes, or your body starts to shut down,” she said matter-of-factly.

I gulped
. “What do you mean?”

“
Just imagine how you felt in the procedure times a hundred, then suddenly, everything just ends,” she said, playing with her glasses chain.

“
I don’t remember Joseph crying blue tears,” I muttered.

Pietre whistled low and said,
“Maybe he’s not as big a baby as you.” I couldn’t even be bothered glaring at him.

Dr.
Yashin shook her head disapprovingly. “Yes, I heard about his operation. They took his heart out, injected the blue solution, and then injected the antidote minutes later. This was done before they placed it inside his body.”

“
Oh,” I said, because I couldn’t come up with anything intelligent to say. I felt out of my league. Overwhelmed. There was so much about these people I didn’t understand—or couldn’t understand.

I turned to the soldiers, Careen and Pietre.
“So, what about this training?”

When training
started, I split myself in two. One half walked towards Joseph, lay in his arms, kissed him, and let his warmth grant her safety. The other half walked away, walked into the woods.

COMBAT

The morning after my procedure, my body jerked in the bed like I’d been electrocuted. A hard shiver. It felt like some of the blue stuff was still swirling around my insides, poking at what was left and looking for any remaining damage. Joseph lay next to me, warm and beautiful. I gave him a gentle kick with my heel and he groaned and rolled towards me. Reaching out, he pulled me into his arms. I folded like a V, unable to fight him in his sleep. Unable and unwilling. He moved his hands up under my shirt, unaware of what he was doing. I blew my hair out of my face and rolled my eyes. If he was going to do this, I’d rather he was awake. I turned in his arms and kissed his nose. “Joseph, wake up.” He blinked at me cross-eyed for a second and then chuckled. Opening his arms, he stretched out and yawned, folding them behind his head.

“
What time is it?” he asked, mid-yawn.

“
Nearly eight, you need to go.”

Hi
s eyes shone in the morning sun and told me he wasn’t going anywhere. Still drowsy from sleep, he rolled over and pinned me under his big arms, coasting just above my body. I smiled up at him but something twisted in his face and he paused. “Sorry, is this…?”

“
I’m all better now. See…” I flipped over and I rolled up the back of my shirt, “no more bruises. I feel great.”

Joseph finally shook off his drowsiness and frowned
. “Obviously, I’m glad they did it but I still don’t understand why. Your injuries were pretty superficial. I didn’t think they used the machine unless it was a life-threatening injury.”

I pulled myself up onto my elbows and met his questions with a kiss
. Quickly following it up with, “Yes, of course, Dr. Sulle, but you have to go. You’ll be late.” I needed to leave for training really soon.

“
Oh, right,” he said, his mind distracted momentarily. He jumped out of bed and made his way to the shower, pulling off his shirt as he walked. I had to sigh. The sight of his now-tanned, naked back, little freckles dotting the skin around his neckline, was too much. I considered joining him in the shower. I could imagine the hot water running over our bodies, my hands… but I let my shyness talk me out of it.

Training
, I reminded myself.

Joseph left with Orry in one arm and a medical bag in the other. Five minute
s later, Careen and Pietre were knocking on my door.

“
Geez!” I said in surprise. “Were you hiding in the bushes?”

“
Something like that,” Pietre snapped as he pushed his way into the house without invitation. He looked me up and down with an unwelcome stare. “You can’t wear that. You need to put on something more… flexible.”

I
regarded my clothing. I was wearing jeans and a button-up shirt. I appealed to Careen questioningly.

“
Just put on leggings and a t-shirt,” she said happily. “Blue,” she called after me.

I
changed and they led me down our house steps. At least they weren’t shoulder to shoulder like yesterday, but I still got the sense I was being babysat. They turned right and we headed towards the thick patch of forest that edged the top line of houses. We were close to the Wall and its silhouette hung over the roofs of the small timber cottages. Dark, spindly shadows dripped down the trunks and darkened the foliage of the forest we were about to enter.

They disappeared into the brush and
it closed around them like a heavy curtain. I followed.

I watched the two of them. They were unlike Joseph and
me in so many ways. Pietre moved through the woods like the trees presence offended him and should jump out of his way and salute. Careen followed behind him, mirroring his footsteps. She never touched him unless he initiated it. And when he did, it was like he claimed her.

He was rough and curs
ed a lot, which reminded me of my Construction boys. A feeling that rocked and ached my heart. But apart from the cursing, he was nothing like them. He seemed hardened and certainly unused to not getting his own way.

When there were no more branches to slap and abuse
, the forest gave way to smaller shrubs. The woods had now sprung green and yellow. It had changed as if overnight. From bleak and cold, life just managed to press itself against the icy panes of winter, to buzzing and bursting with pollen dust. Life was defrosting, long, green stems beckoned and bent in the breeze. Little crackles of noise, leaves shifting, gave evidence of small, scurrying creatures that had poked their wet noses out of hibernation. I inhaled deeply, the smell of layers of rotting foliage, the shed skin of trees, wafted up from where we trampled. It was thick and sweet, damp and moldy, but wonderful. I doubted Pietre noticed.

Every movement was so deliberate and violent with this man. He stomped into the
center of the clearing and spun around to face me, anchoring his feet in the dirt like his toes were talons.

“
Your training will be separated into three parts.” He held up his fingers and counted them off, folding them down like he was snapping his bones. “Fitness, Combat, and Survival Skills.” He appraised my tiny frame. “I think we’ll start with Combat since I think we all know that’s what you will need the most help with.”

Careen giggled and I shot her a glare.

He put his hands on his hips and told me to try to take him down. I laughed, my body shaking with the preposterousness of it. It felt good to laugh. Was he serious? He growled, his teeth bared like a wolf, and assured me that he was.

I shook my head,
“No.” I wasn’t going fight anyone on my mission. This was stupid. I turned to Careen, who leaned back gracefully and lunged at him. Her feline qualities were exaggerated as she glided through the air and grabbed his throat. They scrambled, grunted, and wrestled until Pietre had her arm twisted behind her back. Immobilized. They were enjoying this and I felt like I was getting a gross insight into their love lives.

I held my stomach
. “Can you guys save it for the bedroom, please?”

Pietre
gave me a sickening smile and Careen looked clueless.

“
Fine, let’s try shooting the stunner,” he said, jumping up and wiping the dirt from his hair, attempting, unsuccessfully, to smooth it down.

He p
laced the gun in my hand, knocking my lower limbs out to a wider stance with his forearm, like I was an uncooperative table leg. Then he pressed his cheek against mine, the rough sandpapery stubble grazing my skin. I blushed and my heartbeat picked up, unused to the contact from a stranger. “Now aim for that tree.” He pointed to a narrow birch about two meters away from me, still skinned stark, its peppered trunk scarred from winter and starving deer stripping its bark away. It was only ten centimeters in diameter.

I wrapped my fingers around the gun
loosely. I wanted to drop it. I hated the feel of the cold metal in my hands, the power it held to harm. I had no intention of taking this with me to my mothers. I closed both eyes and took a literal shot in the dark. I heard the click and then a winding up, whizzing noise as the charge built. Then the wires spat out and frittered to the ground. I’d lowered my arms as it discharged and it landed in the dirt at my feet.

Pietre was in a rage.
“You can’t close your eyes when you shoot. You could have shot yourself in the foot!” He retrieved the wires and straightened my shoulders forcefully, like he was squaring a peg. “Try again. This time with your eyes open!”

We tried
shooting the stunner over and over until the sun was high in the sky and my arms felt like listless willow branches, shaking and bowing from holding them out in front of me for so long. I think by the time we were done, I could at least open one eye when I pulled the trigger.

At the end of the first day,
I walked in the door and the other half of me took over. The lies began. Joseph wasn’t home yet so I rushed around, making an obvious mess so he would think I’d been working all day. I ran my hands along the rough edge of a cabinet carcass and sprinkled sawdust on my forehead. I began making dinner, which was reheating one of the many casseroles, which had been deposited in our fridge after my attack, mostly from Addy, but some from Gwen and Odval too. I smiled at their kindness, overwhelmed and undeserving. As I lifted them up, inspecting what each container had in them, something fell to the floor. It was a little music device and stuck to it was a note with Gwen’s scrawl running across it. It read:
Angry Music.

I shrugged and clipped it
to my waistband. Placing the earphones in, I switched it on. It blasted and my head jerked back from the volume. Once I had adjusted it, the words bashed me over the head again and again with fear, anguish, and pain, but I couldn’t stop listening. As Joseph opened the door, the words crept out and sailed towards him.

I told you to be patient

and I told you to be kind

…now all your love is wasted

…who will love you?

Who will love you?

The blood drained from my face and I pulled the earphones out violently, managing a thin-lipped smile. I glanced down at the tiny screen and noted the name of the musician. This Bon Iver guy was inside my head, his anguish matching my own.

He
dropped his bag on the floor and watched me carefully. But then Orry cried and Joseph had to respond. He went to the kitchen to make Orry’s milk at the sink. I kept my back to him but acknowledged his presence with a slight nod. I felt like a criminal, so I slammed bars between the two people I was fast becoming. This was ‘at home’ Rosa.
Believe it
, I told myself, cursing Gwen under my breath even though part of me wanted to hear the rest of the song. Did he get what he wanted? Did he shame her into being better?

Orry settled and Joseph laid
him on his tummy on one of Addy’s rugs.

I clucked my tongue
. “You know he’ll vomit on that. He’s just had a bottle.” Although, you probably wouldn’t even notice on one of Addy’s creations since they all looked a little like a rainbow had vomited on them as it was.

Joseph chuckled and walked towards me
. I relaxed, slipping into the comfortable and desirous atmosphere he created. “You know you sound like Addy when you talk like that.”

I put my hands on my hips and did my best imitation of
Addy, rattling and bobbing my head as I spoke, “Babies need to be independent.” I raised my index finger, waggling it in his face. “You’ve got to let them work things out for themselves. A face full of vomit and he’ll soon work out not to do it again.”

Joseph
threw his head back and laughed. It filled me with certainty, like a limp sail suddenly pressed open by a surge of wind. He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me towards him so our hips were touching. “That’s very good. You’ve been practicing.” He ran his fingers across my brow, brushing of the sawdust. “Working hard?”