Short

This was inspired by the book I just finished. As Sure as the Dawn. You would have to read it to really understand what inspired it. Sarah will get it, I hope. It's like Rizpah and Atretes in the beginning, on the way to Germania. You know?


The cement walls are cold and rough. The only hallway through the building is empty. Everyone has escaped outside to the back. On rough wooden benches they sit, whispering, laughing, eating. There is one long table off in the grass, out from under the rusting tin, roasting beneath the bright yellow sun. With hard, metal, folding chairs pulled tight around it, fifteen or twenty teenagers lean forward, listening intently.

They are listening to the girl at the head of the table. Her long brown hair pulled loosely into a pony tail, whisps falling into her eyes. She is standing, hands planted on the table, smiling, talking eagerly. She jabbers on in a language she hardly knows, trying to explain a game. They listen quietly, never interrupting her to ask questions. If they did, she might never be able to recover the stream of words flooding out of her mouth. She might leave them suspended half way through, with no chance to regain what she was thinking.

A boy leans forward on the table, his head propped up on one hand. She ignores his piercing glance. But he is stretching out so far on the table, she can see no one behind him. She bites her lip, pausing in deep thought. One of the girls at the table tilts her head up, and catches the standing girl’s attention. The look in her eyes is clear. She wants to have the game explained.

The boy forgotten, she goes on. Pausing only over uncertain words and grammar. Instructions pour forth. She finishes a moment or two later, and wipes sweat from under her eyes. The sun is hot today, and they are expecting rain later in the afternoon. The humidity is thick enough to cut with a knife. A stiff breeze rustles through the leaves of the trees, and under the canopy of tin roof. It sweeps over the people sitting and eating after morning services, finally rushing past the teenagers at the table lifting hair and drying the shine off of their faces.

She shakes her head and asks if there are questions, leaning back and standing on her own feet. There are no questions. Her broken words have reached them and made sense. No gap in their knowledge as they stand to do as she said. She smiles full of satisfaction. Finally, something she said in this strange language has made sense. There are still a few sitting at the table, and he is one of them.

He is grinning and leaning on the table still. Smiling at her, eyes bright with something she doesn’t quite understand. His teeth shining white against the smooth darkness of his skin. Not perfect, not entirely straight, but sweet and charming all the same. His smile has covered his face as he leans out from behind those in front of him. She smiles back, unsure of herself, and wondering about the feeling in her stomach. She turns to go with the group, he rotates in his chair and sits an elbow on the burning metal of the chair back. Still propping his head up with a balled fist he watches her go. She glances back once and smiles at him, wondering why he is so intent on watching her.

Walking around, she looks for someone to talk with. Someway to escape the emphatic gaze. She turns back to go into the cool interior of the cement building. He sees her intent. He sweeps through the crowd and reaches the open door before her, blocking her way. She smiles slightly and asks in her broken words to be let past. He shakes his head with a wild grin. She frowns now and demands to know the reason why he won’t let her through. Because, he insists, he wants to speak with her. She shakes her head saying she doesn’t want to talk to him, he is behaving strangely. He asks her something, her eyes widen and colour floods her cheeks.

He has his answer. A moment later she is walking past him. But he pulls her into the empty sanctuary and asks one last thing. Do you want to know about me? She shakes her head, the loose pony tale flying loose. Her hair drapes down around her shoulders, soft and curled. He smiles. She wanted to know a few days ago, and he didn’t tell her. He was too afraid. Too nervous. Too scared of what she might think.

But he knows now. She shakes her head again, insisting that he doesn’t have to tell her, that she doesn’t need to know. That she was only curious the other day, and really it doesn’t matter very much. He grabs the back of her head and pulls her into him, she resists for a moment, shocked, confused. His lips press down on hers. The moment is passed and she melts into him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. She is so warm all over, the blood rushing through her veins.

He lets her go and smiles down. Her eyes are bright and he cheeks are just the right colour pink. “Does that answer your question?”