Wasteland (Wasteland - Trilogy) (13 page)

Whenever it rained, the people of Prin pressed close to their windows and watched the storm. They couldn’t help it: from the safety of their homes, they found the risk, the presence of death, fascinating.

But not Esther. As usual, she turned her face from it.

That was when she saw Joseph.

Her friend was standing across the lobby, carrying an empty plastic bucket. As ever, he was accompanied by a cat. Both boy and feline stared at the intruder with a look of astonishment.

“Esther,” Joseph said.

Esther felt a pang of guilt. So much had happened recently that she hadn’t told him. Now she had only run into him by accident. She noticed what he was carrying.

“You’re not going to get rainwater with that, are you?” she exclaimed.

“With what?” He looked down at the bucket. “Oh, no, I—”

“Because it can kill you,” she said. “Do you remember what I told you? Do you still have any of the water I gave you last time?”

“Yes. Yes. I do.”

“Then will you please drink that instead?”

As she watched Joseph first attempt to hide the bucket behind his back and then a column, Esther realized too late that she had spoken in a sharp voice.
I must sound like Sarah,
she thought. “I’m sorry I shouted,” she said, touching him on the arm. He felt thinner than usual, and so she dug deep in her shoulder bag. At the bottom, she found what she was looking for: the lunch she had not eaten at the Harvesting, a container of boiled rice and beans. “Take this.”

“Are you sure you want to—”

“Yes. Please.”

Smiling his thanks, Joseph received the gift. Then he placed it on the floor in front of the cat, which began to eat.

Esther watched for a moment. “I wish I had more.”

Joseph shrugged, then shuffled his feet. “Would you like to come upstairs? We can have a proper visit.”

“I can’t.” Esther spoke with real regret. “Once the rain stops, I’ve got to see someone. I’m sorry.”

She turned to check the progress of the storm and was startled to make out her image reflected back to her in the cracked glass door.

Esther leaned forward and examined herself. She squinted, trying to imagine that she was seeing herself for the first time, as if she was a total stranger.

As if she was someone like Caleb, for example.

Esther had never done this sort of thing before. There was a full-length mirror at home, but she almost never glanced at it. In fact, she associated primping and fussing with Sarah, so much so that not caring about her looks had become not just a matter of pride, but an easy way to irritate her sister. She was amused by how agitated she could make Sarah by something as simple as not combing her hair.

But now that Esther was studying herself, she was rattled by what she saw.

She saw a girl in boy’s clothes—jeans and a sweatshirt—that hung off a bony frame; she saw watchful eyes that seemed too large and dark in a thin face. There was a smudge of dirt on her chin, which she tried to rub away with her sleeve. Her hair, dark and unruly, was cut unevenly, at different lengths, and it stuck up on top. Esther frowned and tried to smooth the cowlick down; it wouldn’t obey and she gave up.

Then she turned sideways and tried to examine her figure, pulling her sweatshirt close.

It was no good, she realized with a sinking heart. She was simply not appealing, not the way other females in town were. She lacked the curves and softness of some of the girls, the gracefulness of others, even the dainty femininity of her sister.

For a moment, Esther stared at her reflection in the glass and despaired. Then she turned to her friend, who had been watching her with a bemused look on his face.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

Joseph started, then seemed to consider the question. After a few moments, he looked up. “You’re Esther,” he replied.

Esther smiled. Although at that moment, she would have given anything, anything at all, to change her looks, she realized that there was nothing she could do about it. She couldn’t, after all, change who she was.

She walked over and kissed Joseph on the cheek. He recoiled, as she knew he would, but she didn’t care.

At last, the rain started to let up. Esther waited until she was sure it wasn’t a false alarm. Then she saw a rainbow—the indisputable sign that the coast would soon be clear—stretch across the sky.

“I’ll see you soon,” she said.

After a final, vain attempt to make her hair lie in place, she wheeled her bicycle out from the hotel lobby. Her hood drawn around her face, Esther took off through the glistening streets for the school, a half mile away.

There were many shattered windows on the ground floor of the building. It was no trouble for her to reach in, unfasten the latch, and enter.

She made her way down a hallway, lined on both sides with dusty and dented metal lockers that gaped open. She picked her way through trash, mounds of paper, and broken light fixtures. Along the way, she passed empty classrooms, rusted water fountains, and abandoned stairwells.

When she rounded a corner, she noticed something written on the wall, and curious, stopped to examine what it was. Primitive drawings and words, little pictures of hearts with arrows through them, and initials were carved into the plaster. She was able to spell out the words and letters with difficulty:

mikey + lissa. e.h. + a.t. j-bo and k.k. 4ever.

They made no sense to her.

Caleb sat on the creaky cot in his room. He had been given these accommodations in the school, a dank, gray two-story building, as a reward. When Rafe first showed him the place, he assumed that the stranger would take the largest room, the auditorium, for his lodgings and had it furnished accordingly. By Prin’s standards, such a dwelling—with its high ceiling, scuffed wooden floors, and tall windows covered with thick wire mesh—was luxurious, even palatial.

But after living outdoors for so many months, Caleb no longer trusted open spaces. Instead, he thanked Rafe, whom he was beginning to find irritating and overbearing. Then once he was alone, he searched the building until he found a room more to his liking: a classroom off a secondary hallway, with dusty blackboards still attached to the walls and desks and chairs pushed to one side in a jumble. Satisfied with its size and location, Caleb transferred all of the furnishings and supplies Rafe had the townspeople provide.

He thought about those people and his students, as well. He had taken the job for practical reasons only, as a way to stay in town. But he found he liked the teaching more than he expected.

On his rickety bed, Caleb drank from a plastic jug of water. Lowering the bottle, he glanced around and for the first time took in where he was.

The tables that were pushed against the wall were much too low to sit in front of; and the chairs piled on top of them were small as well, perhaps coming up to his knee. He looked up and noticed strange pictures tacked to the wall, faded, mysterious illustrations that were curled from too much humidity and mottled with mildew:

A white goose in a bonnet read a book to a little boy and girl. A cat walked on its hind legs, wearing green boots. Three bears confronted a small girl with yellow hair.

Around the wall, close to the ceiling, were the remnants of a long strip of paper. Caleb could barely read, but he realized with a shock that the torn banner was printed with the letters of the alphabet.

This was a room for little children.

Children like Kai. Soft, sweet Kai, with his mother’s serious eyes and his sudden smile.

His son.

The images seemed to reproach him, a silent reminder not to forget why he was there. Caleb squeezed his eyes shut. Then he opened them again.

Someone was in the hall.

Caleb seized his backpack, hanging over a chair. He took out a sap, a small, heavily weighted leather pouch, which he hid in his hand.

But he realized he would not need it.

A girl in a red hooded sweatshirt stood in the doorway.

It was the girl he had first seen at the ball court, the angry one who had tried to slash his tires. The pretty one, he thought now, pretty if you looked at her the right way.

“Hey,” she said. She was appalled to find she was blushing and she tried to cover it by scowling. “I’m Esther.”

“I’m Caleb,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

Esther couldn’t meet his eyes, and so she plowed ahead, staring at the floor.

“I came to . . . I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Uh-huh,” he said. “What for?”

“For . . .” she started, then trailed off. Apologizing didn’t come easy to her and this was harder than she thought. “Because I messed up your tire.”

Caleb considered her words.

“You didn’t really mess it up,” he said.

A smile flickered across her face and at last she raised her eyes. “I would have, if I had more time.”

Now it was Caleb’s turn to smile. “I bet,” he said.

Esther cleared her throat. “And . . . I’m sorry about your family.”

Caleb’s face grew serious and he nodded.

That was all Esther came to say. It felt right to apologize for what she did and to express her sympathy. After that, there was no real reason to stay; yet for some reason, she couldn’t break away. She lingered for a moment, hoping Caleb would speak, but he was as silent as she was. So she started to go.

“Hey?” he said.

Esther turned back.

Caleb had his hands in his pockets and averted his gaze; she was surprised to see that he was so ill at ease.

“You think it’s safe around here?” he finally asked. He indicated his black bicycle, leaning against a wall. “I’d like to keep that outside, case I need to get somewhere in a hurry. Think that’d be okay?”

“Sure,” Esther said. “If you want, we could put it out back. That way, nobody would see it from the street.”

Together, they headed farther into the school, Caleb pushing his bicycle next to him and Esther navigating. It was not just one building but a series of them and she had never been inside before. Still, her sense of direction was good, and she felt they were heading the right way.

As they walked side by side, the two talked. Esther was especially shy at first. The only person she really spoke to was Skar, and they had been friends for many years. She found it was easier when they weren’t looking at each other. Mostly, they took turns asking questions, listening as the other spoke: about growing up, their homes and family, and the people they knew.

Soon Esther was so caught up in the conversation, she stopped paying attention to where they were and began choosing turns and stairways without thinking. When they reached the end of a large hallway, she frowned. She spun around, confused, as she tried to get her bearings.

“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.

Esther didn’t answer at first. “I don’t know how we got here,” she said. She pointed down the echoing corridor, which seemed as long and broad as a highway. “I think we’re supposed to be down at that end.”

Caleb smiled. “That’s easy,” he said. He mounted his bicycle in one fluid movement. “Hop on.”

When she realized what he was proposing, Esther hesitated. Then she met his eyes and made up her mind.

His back wheels didn’t have the standing pegs the variants used, so Esther perched on the seat. She held onto Caleb, who pedaled standing up. When they reached the far end of the hall, Esther saw she had been right; there was a door that led to a courtyard in back. Caleb slowed, then stopped. He took her hand and helped her off the bike.

“Thanks,” she said. “That was fun.” She held the door open for Caleb, and he wheeled his bicycle through and rested it against the brick wall. Esther realized it was a word she had only ever used with Skar:
fun
.

As the two returned to the classroom, Caleb seemed thoughtful.

“Who’s Levi?” he said. “And what’s the Source? I’ve heard people talk about them, but not so as I could understand.”

Esther couldn’t imagine anyone not knowing, but she explained as best she could. Caleb listened, squinting as he took it in.

“They got more than food and water in there?” he asked, after she was done.

“What?”

“At the Source. He’s got all kinds of stuff, right?”

Esther shrugged. “I guess.”

“Do they ever trade with anyone else?”

“Like who?”

“Mutants. Because I’m looking for something. Something you start fires with.”

Esther was puzzled. Then she remembered his recent tragedy. The mysterious fire. The death of his partner and the kidnapping of his son.

And before she was aware what she was doing, Esther found herself opening up even more to Caleb. She told him what she’d found when she visited the variants’ camp—that Levi was supplying them with goods. What they were doing in exchange for this payment, she had no clue. And she realized too late that she didn’t know what Caleb would do with this information.

Caleb listened, gazing downward without speaking. Then he looked up.