Enoch Crosslin (crossedwire) wrote in thefield, @ 2009-08-17 00:01:00 |
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Current mood: | okay |
Entry tags: | cross, rowan, z - 1st tribe - day 33 |
Washing
Who: Cross and Rowan
When: morning
Where: at the spring
Status: in progress
Breakfast had been the oddest meal Cross could recall since he'd arrived here about a month ago. People had been either blushy and quiet or almost giddy and babbling to break the air of nervous unease that had surrounded the circle. He felt fortunate that he hadn't slept with anyone besides Helena, and there was nothing wrong with that as far as he was concerned. They might not speak of it in concrete terms, but they were in a relationship. Thus, as much sex as they felt capable of should be perfectly acceptable.
He headed off to the spring with his water bottle, pleased that he felt much more normal today. Most of the pollen seemed to have blown away during the night, and the air was cooler. It was very pleasant, he thought as he ambled along, rounding the curve on the path that would take him to the spring and lookout tower.
Rowan was paying for her day of debauchery by washing the blankets and sheets of her little harem. Because holy hell, was it fun. But. Um. Wet. And quite unsanitary, in the end. But hey! That's why God invented soap pods. The sheets were done, at least, and smelled nicely like cucumber, and were hanging on branches. Now she was working on the blankets, and the entire time she was just chattering to her baby. Or herself, it was hard to tell. "Anyway, in the year nineteen-forty five they developed a herbicide that was one of the components for the later Agent Orange. Absolutely disgusting stuff. They also created the The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, which is what I worked for, though I worked for the Agriculture branch in conjunction with the university by mucking around with the genetic coding of various grasses, like wheat." She paused for a moment and patted her rounded belly.
Cross, of course, wondered who the pregnant girl was talking to once he got close enough to see her and hear her. The idea that she might be talking to the baby did not once occur to him. He eyed her skeptically and skirted the part of the spring where she was kneeling and scrubbing a blanket, heading for the area where water poured out of the rocks. He wasn't keen on ingesting soap pod scum or.. whatever she might be washing out of her blankets, so he was careful to hold the neck of his bottle to the falling water. He didn't say anything to her since she seemed fully engaged in conversation already, but merely filled his bottle, drank off some of it and then replenished it.
"Hi, Cross!" Rowan called and waved cheerfully. The conversation was one, apparently, that could be put on pause at will. Really, where was the other person, assuming she was talking to the baby, going to go? It was stuck there, that's what. But Rowan continued to wash the blankets, giving them a good scrubbing, and didn't seem in the least bit concerned that Cross hadn't said hello first. A stirpip fluttered between them and disappeared again. "How are you?"
"'Lo," Cross greeted her once she'd spoken, deciding that maybe she'd just been talking to herself. He'd worked with people before who did that, and he'd always found it odd, but generally as long as someone wasn't bothering him, he was quite live and let live. "I'm fine." He got the bottle completely filled again and began screwing the cap onto it. He actually felt reasonably rested despite what he'd spent most of the previous day doing. It was certainly less high-impact than cutting and hauling lumber. "You?" he inquired.
"Paying penance for fun and games yesterday." She said dryly, holding up one of the blankets in question. Ro paused for a moment. "Actually, I could use a hand with something next time you go out with the wood crew. Could you get me a cross section of one of the trees? About yea," she held her hands out about a foot from each other, "big, as big around as you can get? If you have the time of course. If you don't, don't worry about it."
Cross could only imagine what her penance might have involved, although he wasn't sure of the mechanics of sleeping with someone who was that pregnant. He just stared at her blankly as she showed him the sodden blanket and then asked him for a cross section of a tree. It was highly likely that he'd forget that, even though it struck him as a strange request. "Could cut it off when we get the trees back here," he said finally.
"True, but I'm not always around when you get back." Ro pointed out. "And I want to try making Helena a wooden bowl. She made me socks and a poncho with a hood, and all I gave her was some flour. I want to give her a properly nice gift."
She had a point. Also, when they got back they were always exhausted and might not want to take the time to do anything extra. "I'll see what I can do," Cross told her. He might forget, but he might not. He felt sure that Helena would love something like that, although he wasn't sure how Rowan would go about making it with no tools to speak of. Ah, well. That wasn't really his concern.
"I appreciate it!" Rowan beamed, and, just because she felt like it, she gave Cross a random quick hug - and still beamed. She wasn't particularly sexually interested in Cross, and definitely wasn't interested in taking anyone from Helena, but he deserved a hug anyway! Baby thought so too, because he or she gave Cross a good, solid kick at the same time. But Ro let go really quickly, looking all pleased. "I can do your sheets and blankets too, if you want to bring them here."
Cross was mildly uncomfortable at being hugged by Rowan, but he didn't move. He stood like a tree, rooted in place, and let her do it, his jaw setting and his arms remaining at his sides. "'S'alright," he mumbled once she'd let go of him. "They're fine." It was a nice offer, but he couldn't see using Rowan as a laundress, particularly with how pregnant she was.