Helena Chu (lostchu) wrote in thefield, @ 2009-06-04 11:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | cross, helena, z - 1st tribe - day 22 |
Unburdening
Who: Cross and Helena
When: late night
Where: camp, then just past the north rise
Cross had spent the day at backbreaking labor all day long, and he'd barely spoken to anyone. That was not out of standoffishness, but because there was work to be done. He'd been clearing ground for more lean-tos and adding the brush he'd cleared to the fire, he'd gathered rock for where Ryan, the nearly blind kid, was working on one side of the pit in order to be able to construct more pots, he'd dug for clams, he'd done anything and everything he could think of to do. Then just as darkness fell, Jasper had reached the far side of the lake with the two very young children, Corbin and Ashwin, and he'd plunged into the water fully clothed to assist in rescuing them.
It had seemed to be very touch and go, but the homeopathic doctor had managed to save Jasper with the help of several of the others. Finally, all was quiet, Jasper was in a drugged sleep-- though Cross had no idea what in the world they could have drugged her with here-- and the children had been thoroughly dried and put to bed in Helena's bedroll. His own bed was spread out next to hers, just as it had been from the time everyone else had arrived, but he himself was standing as close to the fire as he could get. His pants were wrung out as well as they could be without him taking them off, though he had taken off his shirt and hung it up to dry.
The night air was cold, but he showed no visible signs of discomfort as he stood there, relieved that he'd kicked off his shoes so at least they were dry. It was possible to rise above discomfort, he'd learned. His eyes looked deeply blue in the dim light, and he stared at nothing, his calm expression not revealing anything he might have felt right then.
Helena had also been busy exploring for most of the day. She'd wandered this way and that way, up and down their stretch of the island looking for a nearby spot to build a latrine. They were going to need something a bit more permanent and safe than what they were using, especially now that there were so many people.
Secretly, though, she had been mulling over everything that she and Ken had talked about the night before. It weighed so heavily on her that she couldn't even fake normalcy for long. She'd seen Cross, of course, here and there. Down by the water when he'd emerged safe with the little girl, Ashwin, in his arms. That had been...a stirring sight for Helena, who was such a tangled mess when it came to children and lately, when it came to Cross. After the wee ones were fed and settled, she'd paced the camp some more, hoping she would be able to settle down enough to rest. The night was getting colder and the laughers were excited and loud across the water. Both of these things only served to remind her that she had a lot to fret about.
As she circled the fire once more her eyes came to rest on Cross's broad back and she tiptoed through the sleeping bodies to stand by his side. Warmth danced over the tops of her thighs and shins and feet. Helena sighed as she soaked it in. It was going to be a cold night with her blankets monopolized by the kids.
"Hey," Cross said, his tone moderately surprised. For some reason he'd thought she was tucked up amidst her blankets with the kids. Of course, there were people all around in their own bedrolls who would hear if they stirred; he'd just thought that Helena had already retired for the night. His eyes held hers for a few extra seconds before he spoke again, as if maybe he was forming and shaping what words he should say, then he asked her, "Everything alright?" The fire crackled. The water several yards from where they stood lapped against the bank.
She exhaled a sigh as she held on to his blue gaze in the firelight and shook her head. Her mouth compressed into a thin line. She would tell him. She wanted to tell him everything that she and Ken had discussed but she couldn't do it here. There were too many ears. "Are you warm enough that you can take a walk?" she practically breathed out the question in a whisper barely audible over the crackling fire.
"Yeah," Cross said, completely disregarding the fact that he currently had no shirt and that his khakis were uncomfortably damp. He hadn't been in the water for long enough to get overly chilled, so he'd be fine, he reasoned. He half-turned, glancing around at their surroundings and then back toward her. "Which way you wanna go?" he inquired. Hopefully they could find a windbreak. Helena might not have gotten wet, but he was always conscious of how tiny she was, how easily she could get cold.
She also glanced around them before nodding up the rise to the north of their beach. Alex was building his church up there. They might find a place to sit. She walked carefully once they cleared the light of the campfire, sticking close to his side. When they were well away from the others at the top of the rise, she peered into the shadows and made sure as best she could that they weren't being overheard. "Ken filled me in on a lot of really serious stuff yesterday. Since he considers me the unvoted leader through mutual acceptance, he's looking for me to come up with an answer for some very serious problems." Sighing, she actually wrung her hands and she worried about how to proceed with these issues.
Cross had tried to keep a couple of steps ahead, to kick any loose rocks or other obstacles out of the way with his heavy boots. Once they'd reached the top, he wasn't sure he was content with their distance from the camp, but he paused when she started to speak. The mention of Ken furrowed his brow a bit; he'd come to respect the other man, had gotten past his initial negative impression of him. "On your own?" he queried. He wasn't doubtful that Helena could do just that, but he did realize how heavy a burden that was to put on someone's shoulders. "What're the problems?" he asked, one large hand sliding around Helena's arm as he urged her farther away, down into the bowl-like depression in the ground where the wind would be less likely to hit them.
She didn't pull away from him and let him lead her a little farther from camp. Once they reached the bottom there were a couple of stones the right size for sitting so she made use of one. "No, not alone. He's suggesting that we make the leadership of the group a sort of...council. Three people was the suggestion so that they couldn't tie on voting matters. I think that I'll hold the election tomorrow night." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it. "I'm relieved to not have to be...the only one making decisions. It's just...there's some heavy decisions to be made."
Lifting her dark eyes, little more than smudges of shadow, she tried to find his face but with the deep shadows in the bowl of earth there was only a vague etching of her staunch protector. "He told me that Angelica's gun was stolen back at camp. At first she thought that Arlo took it but Arlo doesn't have it, which Ken believes. Arlo thinks Payne or Clay have it, which...sort of makes sense."
When Helena seated herself on one of the boulders, Cross took a seat on the other, turning his body toward hers as if to block her from the wind as much as he could. It helped to be lower to the ground, he thought. "Good idea," he said with a nod. "Decisions that effect this many people shouldn't be made by just one person no matter who it is." The more people who arrived, the more complex things became in his opinion. He'd been surprised to discover that there'd been another just before Ken and his group arrived at camp; the girl had been found out in the sweetgrind fields a few yards from where they'd all camped for the night.
He could barely see Helena, as well, but he tilted his head downward as he attempted to discern her features. His own were instantly etched in a scowl when he heard that bit of news. "Neither of 'em has any business with a gun," he said decisively. Clay didn't strike him as overly bright, and he couldn't imagine the boy knowing how to shoot one, and Payne was a little too comfy with spears and knives for him to feel happy about her having a firearm.
Helena sighed. "Well, it gets even worse than that. I'm not sure if you were around camp enough to notice her but there was a Guatemalan girl, Carlita. She is missing and she was last seen with Payne." She heaved a sigh. "Ken thought that she had left with Payne and the other kids. You and I know that she didn't arrive here with them. So what's happened to her? None of the kids have mentioned her, have they?" She hoped Cross had overheard something but she thought it was unlikely. He gave mostly everyone a wide berth and concentrated on his building projects more that anything else.
"I haven't heard 'em if they did," Cross said, thinking much the same thing Helena was. It wasn't likely he'd hear much of anything as far as camp gossip was concerned, because he kept his nose to the grindstone. His people skills left a bit to be desired at times. "I think I remember seein' her once or twice." He frowned as he thought. "Anyone asked Payne about her?" he wanted to know. Payne wasn't one to sit around the campfire and be easily found, it seemed, but still. He was thinking of the others who'd disappeared, although their fates had been discovered. Anything could happen here in this world, and they needed some way to keep better tabs on every single person at camp.
She shook her head. "Ken and I agree that, before we speak to her about Carlita or the gun, we should have some sort of legal ruling party in place. And then the council as we seem to call it can decide on a course of action if when we ask her about these things some sort of wrong doing comes to light." She sighed and scrubbed her chilly hands over her eyes. "I'm just sort of terrified about having to stand in judgment over people, you know? I honestly...I really hope that no one votes me on to the council." She knew that was a long shot hope, though. "Ken seems to think I'm perfect for the job."
"Can't let anarchy rule," Cross said matter-of-factly when she said she was terrified about passing judgment. "Whoever's on the council can steer everything in the right direction." Anything he could do to help, he would, though he didn't expect he'd be one of the council members. He had leadership experience, true, but he imagined most of the people here saw him as more brawn than brains. He didn't mind. He had no need to be in the forefront of everything. "I think you can count on being voted on," he said. He didn't want to disregard her feelings, her reluctance that she'd confessed to him; after the smallest of hesitations, he reached for one of her hands, wrapping it in his much larger one as if to counter his eminently practical words.
First Ken with the hugs the day before and now Cross with the hand holding. She certainly didn't pull her hand out of his. In fact, she slid off of her rock and on to his, getting closer to him. "I just can't believe anyone here would hurt someone. Or that they would forget her. Wouldn't they have said something if they didn't mean any harm?" She heaved a sigh. "I know I shouldn't think the worst but it's looking bad." She sat close by his side, her hand in his. From this close, she could see his goosebumps and felt bad for dragging him away from the fire. "I know I'll probably be voted in, but I'll be glad for the help in making these kinds of decisions." Like punishments for crimes.
Cross had a very low opinion of human nature in general, but he didn't think it would be a good idea to share that with Helena right then. "Nobody wants to believe that," he murmured. "We gotta live with these people in close quarters." The people who showed up at camp were from all walks of life, and it would be naive to think that they'd never encounter anyone dangerous. Sociopathic or homicidal, even. "We need a way to account for everyone's whereabouts," he said. No one should be able to vanish for days without anyone being aware of it; it sounded like everyone had thought Carlita was with somebody else, and God only knew where the girl actually was. He hadn't noticed the cold all that much, but he'd have to admit that it was nice to have Helena pressed to his side in the chilly night air. He nodded when she said she'd be glad of the help. It was better for everyone to have the load of decision making shared.
She nodded, feeling some of the burden of what had been filling her head ease off a touch. She was glad she'd found the time and privacy to talk to him. His practicality was the absolute best thing for dragging her grandiose imagination back to earth. Down here in the bowl of the earth with the vast lid of stars overhead it was almost like it had been when they first arrived there. Isolated and private, theirs. Her fingers squeezed his in acknowledgment of that. "We should get back," she said quietly. "Get some sleep."
"We should," he agreed. "It's late." He didn't move immediately, though, but sighed and gazed down at her as if trying to summon the energy to get up and walk back over the rise. He missed the privacy, as well, but there was no help for it. It had been a nice little interlude in this new life of theirs. "Late and cold," he added belatedly, carefully rising to his feet without letting go of her hand. He wasn't entirely sure what he meant by it, wasn't sure how she'd interpret it, but he wasn't sure any of that mattered.
It didn't to Helena. She didn't let go either and when he rose, so did she. Hand in hand, she walked with him back up over the hill, the firepit glowing brightly just down the rise. She could use some sleep, now that she had told him the secret of what might have gone on in the midst of the tribe. "Can I share your blanket?" she asked him, more than half shy. The kids were bundled up in hers and she didn't want to wake them up if she could avoid it. Their story had been sad and their journey was long. They deserved the warmth and safety more than any of the rest of them.
"'f you don't mind that my pants're damp," Cross told her, keeping his voice low as not to disturb those who were sleeping in their bedrolls all around. There was no way for him to get them dry, but at least they weren't soppy, dripping wet anymore. He was pleased that she'd asked, probably should have offered, but he'd naturally assumed she'd climb back in with the kids. His bedroll was next to hers, so they'd be nearby. Once they'd reached it, he paused at the fire for one last warming before moving to lie down.
"I don't mind," she told him as he turned to the fire. She'd had to let go of his hand to untie the ribbons of pillow case that held on her sandals before climbing into his bedroll. She leaned over to check on the kids before he joined her and they seemed to be dead to the world. Smiling, she squirmed over to give him all the room her needed to get settled. She shivered as his damp cargo pants brushed her bare legs but she knew they would dry and she'd stop noticing soon enough. He might have been cold and damp but almost as soon as she pressed her upper body against his bare ribs she could feel the warmth trapping between them. She drew the edge of his blanket up over her shoulder and sighed softly as she relaxed. "Thanks Cross," she whispered.
Cross had kicked off his boots, and his feet were bare beneath the cuffs of his pants; he'd hung his socks up to dry, as well. He got situated beneath the blanket, reaching one hand out to tuck it around them as securely as he possibly could. "Welcome," he whispered. In his opinion, no thanks was needed. He should be thanking her for being willing to share his bedroll when he was damp; that had to be uncomfortable. Still, he supposed it would be warmer than if either of them had been sleeping by themselves. His arm settled itself around her, draping over her as another barrier between them and the cold, and he sighed softly. Another day down, more trauma, another crisis. It was beginning to feel par for the course.
The arm around her was a total invitation to get even closer as far as Helena was concerned. She, too, draped an arm around his torso, pillowing her cheek in the crook of his elbow. He was clean from the lake but underneath that there was the smell of woodsmoke and even deeper yet, the scent of Cross. No deodorant in this world so far meant they'd all have to become at least a little accustomed to each other's smells. He was very clean though, more so than many of the other guys on the island and she liked that. She liked him and didn't mind getting close. "Someday we'll have walls," she said drowsily. "And a floor, and a door," she added. Whether or not she meant it would be theirs together or something they'd all someday enjoy, well that was open to interpretation.
"Someday," he murmured. The thought of actual privacy was so far-removed right now that it seemed like a fantasy, like kids saying, someday we'll be famous. He could picture an entire group of little houses, possibly on an elevated walkway, raised from the possibility of flooding. If it continued to get this cold, they'd need much better shelter than this, but that was a problem to tackle on another day. His nose lowered to her hair, his breath warming it, and they were about as close as it was possible for them to get. He wasn't a demonstrative person by any means, but he would've had to admit that he enjoyed these times of closeness, of warmth.