Alisiyad Chapter 4 ~ The Child (Part 2)

Liseli searched for the child.  Was there a cave, she wondered?  Had the child disappeared underground?  That had to be it, because she’d looked up into every tree and under every fallen trunk without success.  It was all she could do to maintain self-control and not yell something rude.  Several things were on the tip of her tongue, ready to be unleashed in her frustration.

Face it, he’s gone, she finally admitted.  At least she knew that there were people here.  She’d go back and get Russ, and they’d find where the child lived.  Perhaps the adults will be more reasonable.

She turned and stalked back to the stream, where Russ sat with his head between his knees.  He clutched at his hair with one fist as if about to pull it out.

“Good, you’re awake!”

Russ’s head snapped up, and he stood, wavering a little.  His foot slipped down into the stream with a splash, but he steadied himself, backing up.  “Liseli, where—”

“I saw a person, a little kid,” she said in a rush.  “He wouldn’t talk to me, and I lost him.  But at least that proves there are people here.  We’ve got to find the town, or whatever, so let’s—”  She broke off, noticing his increased pallor for the first time.

“What?” he asked nervously.

“Russell . . . you’re . . . white . . . ” she gaped.  “I mean . . . white white, are you—”

“I’m fine.”  He muted a cough.

Like hell you are!  She stared for a moment more, bringing herself under control.  “Alright,” she said, “we need to find people.  Soon.  Come on, let’s get one more drink, and go.”

---

They struck out again, still heading for the mountains, since that was the direction the child had gone.  Russ felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment that he had jumped to a false conclusion and become so melodramatic about it.  But the relief was stronger at the moment, and his steps didn’t feel quite as heavy as they had before.  Come to think of it, everything felt lighter than it had before, and he wasn’t altogether certain that he was balanced firmly on the ground.

Liseli was more talkative.  She told him all about the aggravating child, but he only half heard what she was saying.  He liked the sound of her voice, when she wasn’t snapping, but it was hard to concentrate on her words, because they seemed so . . . light.  He made little replies in the empty spaces, but even his own voice sounded distant and flimsy to his ears.

---

Liseli drifted into silence.  She could tell that Russ was not “all there,” and she could not really think of anything to talk about, once she exhausted the topic of the child.  Her thoughts turned to food — how many hours had it been since she’d eaten?  She didn’t usually eat lunch, using her lunch break to escape to the Mill, but she didn’t usually spend her afternoons hiking, either.  She wondered what they would do if they could not find people with food.  But that was out of the question: of course they would find people.  The child assured this.  She pushed away thoughts of food.

Time passed with surprising quickness.  They kept walking up and down hills through fields of calf- or knee-high grass, dotted with small woods and clusters of trees and bushes.  There were no signs of people, but they kept going, driven on by the promise of the child.  Liseli even thought she caught glimpses of him every now and then, though she couldn’t be sure, and Russ didn’t seem to be able to make out anything definite.  “Could be an animal . . . ” he reminded her, every time.  But otherwise he did not make any protest.  He seemed to recover a little as the day wore on, becoming more alert, though he still seemed tired and congested.

They rested again toward evening. They found a little pond — not the freshest looking water, surrounded by gnats and mosquitoes, but it would have to do.  Little tadpoles darted to and fro in the shallow water near the edge, and Liseli stared at them dubiously.  No — she wasn’t that hungry, not yet.  She only drank a few sips of water, hoping that she wouldn’t get a disease, or worms, or worse.  It didn’t taste very good, either.

“Should we go?” Russ asked, waving the bugs away from his face.

“Don’t you want another rest?”

Russ shrugged, but he looked tired.  Liseli scooted back away from the mud by the pond’s edge, and sat down in the damp grass.  “Well, I need one.  I’ve never walked so freaking far in my life.”  She heaved a sigh and added, “I’ve got a bad feeling that we passed wherever that little kid lives.  I thought he was heading west toward the mountains . . . but I guess that didn’t mean much.  He could have turned north or south at any time.”

Russ just nodded, slowly and methodically, without offering any suggestions for what to do next.

“I’ve never been anywhere so empty,” Liseli observed.  “If we were . . . if we were home . . . we’d have come across a thousand houses by now, and roads — they don’t even have roads here!”

“Maybe it’s a nature park.”

“I thought of that.  But do little half naked kids wander around alone in nature parks?”

He shrugged again.  “Maybe here they do.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

A yawn escaped him before he replied, “Has anything made sense yet?”

“No,” she conceded, looking out over the pond.  “No it hasn’t.”

Her words hung in the air between them for a moment or two, sounding dire.  It felt dire, this helpless state of not knowing what made sense anymore.  I’m tired and cold and it’s getting darker, nothing has gone right since we left that spot . . . since we left the Mill.  How many miles did we cover today running after that idiot kid?  Miles.  As if miles matter when everything has changed.  Maybe this is home, maybe it’s like . . . it’s like we missed a thousand years passing and everything’s gone back to wilderness and mountains have sprung up, like a giant earthquake wiped out civilization and we . . . and we . . . oh this is stupid.

She shook her head, determined not to believe the absurd idea that they’d been caught in a time warp while civilization crumbled and mountains rose.  Biting off a laugh, she said, “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever skipped work.  I don’t know what I’m going to tell Mr. Berdilo when we get back.”

Russ took a moment to respond.  If he’d been thinking about anything like catastrophic time warping plate shifts, he didn’t show it.  “I thought Mr. Berdilo fired you.”

“What?”  She turned to look at him fully.  Something in her voice or look must have worried him, because he edged away.  “Why on earth would you think that?”

“You ran off . . . all upset.”

“Oh.”  She looked at the ground.  “Well it wasn’t that.”

“Sorry.”

“I just left.  It doesn’t matter why.  But . . . but he wasn’t expecting me to leave.  And then you had to go and follow me; that’s both our jobs screwed.”

“You know—” Russ began, then stopped to cough.

She didn’t like the way it sounded; like a piece of his lung would end up in the pond.  At least he’d covered his mouth with an arm, though.  It was more than she would have expected.  But it didn’t make the hacking sound any less . . . dire.

“Sorry,” he wheezed.  “Anyway . . . I . . . I think what to tell Mr. Berdilo is the least of our worries.  Right now.”  He drew his knees up and rested his forehead between them.  After a moment his voice came out muffled against his legs; “I feel like I’m dying.”

Liseli frowned.  “Russell, I know you’re sick, but this is no time to curl up and whine.  You’re coughing and congested and running a little fever . . . big deal.  You’re not the first person to have to deal with something while you’re sick and you are not going to die.”

He stuck his legs out straight again and peered at her out from under his hair.  “Fine, I’m fine.”  He inhaled shallowly.

“Listen,” she relented, “I know it’s tough.  And you’re right.”  She paused, swallowing.  “I mean, our jobs aren’t as important as whatever else is going on here.  But I’m just thinking positive, thinking ahead to what’ll happen after this little problem has . . . gone away.”

He shrugged.  “I guess.”  Then he lifted his head a little to look at her more directly.  “What about your family?  Is the Burger House all . . . .”

“Is the Burger House what?” she asked darkly.

He smiled, or at least she thought he did; it was getting too dark to be able to tell.  But she could see him shake his head, refusing to go on.

“If you mean to ask ‘is the Burger House all I ever think about,’ no.”  She sniffed and shifted her seat on the ground, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she resituated.

He didn’t deny that that’s what he had meant.

“Not that it’s really any of your business about my family,” she went on, “but I have a lot of siblings, all younger than me, and my mom has been busy lately because she’s getting married again next week.  So she doesn’t keep tabs on me, I am sure I will probably be home before she realizes I was gone.”  She feared she was babbling, and fell silent.

“I think they’ll notice.  I mean, I’d noticed if . . . you were gone.”

She huffed and looked away.  “You don’t know my family, we’re not the ‘sit around the dinner table and discuss the day’ types.  Anyway.  What about you?”

“What about me?”  He sounded genuinely lost.

“Your family.”  She turned back to shake her head at him.  “We’re discussing all the many people who are going to miss us, remember?  It was your idea.”

“Oh.”  Russ looked at the ground.  “My mom won’t really care.  My sister, though . . . I dunno.  She always has to know everything, so she’ll want to know where I was.”

“What about Marcy?”

He shrugged, itching his head for a moment, as if the question was very difficult.  “We broke up.”

“Oh.”  Liseli felt she should add a perfunctory “that’s too bad” or “I’m sorry,” but she didn’t.  “I thought I saw her in the Burger House this morning.”

He looked up, shrugging again.  “She likes the Burger House.”

“I thought she only came because you gave her discounts.”  Liseli half-closed her eyes with a little sniff.  “Are you still—”

“No fucking way,” he snapped, then broke into a cough.  He added a mumbled, “Sorry.  I guess I’m still a little pissed.  She just,” he paused, wiping his nose, “didn’t say anything to me.  My sister . . . told me.”

“Wait, Marcy dumped you?”

He nodded.  “Last night.  She’s dating someone new, already.”

“Ah.”

Russ shrugged, then tossed something into the pond.  It was a stone, and it skipped one, two, three times before disappearing with a plop.

“It doesn’t matter,” he spoke into the silence.

Liseli snorted and looked at the sky.  “See, I told you not to give her discounts.”  Brilliant comment, she chastised herself.  But she’d never been good at commiserating about breakups . . . she’d never had one herself and she’d always hated being around to watch her mother sighing over lost husbands and her sister pouting between boyfriends.  Russ pouting over his girlfriend wasn’t much better.

“I don’t think that had anything to do with it.”

She thought she could hear a faint smile in his voice.  Maybe he’s not pouting.  Maybe it doesn’t really matter.  Right.  He’s a guy, they don’t care.  “I just meant that she didn’t deserve those kind of favors; risking your job making unauthorized discounts.  Now you see why I told you not to.”

“I didn’t think you . . . .”

“What?”

“Nevermind.”  He shook his head.  “We got along okay, so I didn’t expect . . . .”  He drifted off with a rattling sigh.

“Well, you’re probably better off without her anyway.”

“What?”

Liseli smiled, though she knew he probably couldn’t see it.  “We are talking about the same person, right?  Marcy?  I didn’t think you made a very good couple.”

He was quiet for a long moment, and she started to think maybe this wasn’t the best subject for them.  He sent another stone flying into the pond, but it failed to skip.

“If you don’t mind me saying so, I mean,” she added.  “Just my opinion.”

He finally spoke again, quietly.  “It’s alright.  You’re right, I guess.  I mean, she’s just a friend of my sister’s, really . . . Kyla set us up and I went along ’cause, well . . . it’s not like I had anyone else to go out with.”  He slapped his neck and mumbled, “Damn bugs . . . .”

She snorted again.  “You could do better.”

His silence lasted longer this time, and he kept his head down with his hair hanging in front of his eyes.  Liseli wished that she hadn’t spoken so boldly — he probably thought she was coming on to him now.  Which was absurd.  Why does it always have to be an insult or an encouragement?  Can’t you ever just talk normally with him, you little idiot?  This isn’t high school!

She needed to change the subject.  “So it’s just your mom and sister at home, then?  Is your dad . . . I’m sorry.”

“No, he lives in California.”

“Oh.  Mine lives in Illinois.  My parents have been divorced for a long time now,” she said, shrugging.  “So, you know, I barely remember what it was like before then.”

Russ nodded, then after a moment added, “See him often?”

She smiled.  “No, not for a while.  My sister and I used to spend weekends at his apartment.  But just when we were kids.”

Russ nodded again.  “Been ten years since I saw mine.  He really didn’t want anything to do with us . . . well, it doesn’t matter.”  He paused to cough into his sleeve.  “I don’t really think of him as my dad, anymore, so it’s no big deal.”

“That’s sad.”

“No, it’s not,” said Russ, almost too quiet for her to hear.  The silence afterwards felt very loud, and she wished she hadn’t said something so drippy.

Why are we even talking about this?  Liseli looked away.  This is hardly any better than talking about Marcy.  Russ doesn’t want you pitying him, you don’t want to be pitying him.  So just stop.

“You know what I could really go for right now?”  She switched gears, cocking her head to the side as she looked up at the purplish-gray sky.  “A cheeseburger.”

“Really?”

“Yeah . . . .”  She could feel his gaze on her again, but she didn’t look down.  “A greasy patty on a smashed up marshmallow bun, with a couple squirts of ketchup and mustard, some shredded lettuce, a slice of cheese . . . and those limp, wilted little pickle slices.  I could actually eat that right now, and enjoy it.”

Russ shook his head.  “I’m not very hungry.”

“That’s because you’re sick.”

“I know.”

Liseli got to her feet, and brushed some damp grass blades from her jeans.  The pond lay in a low dell between two hills, and she turned her gaze up the hill to the west.  “What are you doing?” Russ asked.

“I’m thinking about walking up the hill to see . . . what I can see,” Liseli replied with a brief smile.  “Who knows, maybe there’s a big city just on the other side.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said, moving to stand.

“You should rest.”

“I can’t down here.  The bugs’ll eat me alive.”

They climbed up the slope through the sparse trees, and at the top they could look out for quite a distance.  There was no city, or village, or any trace of human habitation, but there was a river.  It ran parallel to the range of mountains, blue and sparkling in the rays of setting sun filtering over the peaks.  Liseli groaned.  “If I’d known there was a river nearby I wouldn’t have drunk that scuzzy pond water!” she complained, looking out over the treetops separating them from the water.

She glanced to her side and saw that Russ had sat down again.  “Yeah,” was all he said.

“Are you getting worse?” Liseli asked, wrinkling her forehead in concern.

“I just need to catch my breath.”

“It wasn’t that long a walk up the hill,” she replied, turning to glance down through the trees.  “Well . . . .”

Russ pulled a napkin from his pocket and blew his nose, before mumbling something about only taking a second.  Liseli leaned against a tree and continued to survey the valley below, trying to guess how far away the river was.  The elevation of the hill was enough that she could see the water over the top of a wood in between, but that made it hard to gauge the distance.  And still there was no sign of people, anywhere, no matter how much she squinted into the sunset to look around.  With a sigh, she shifted her weight against the tree, and she heard a faint crinkling sound from her back pocket.

Liseli then remembered the brochure from Cheeseburger U, and she pulled it out.  It was almost surreal . . . .  It seemed days since she had sat in Mr. Berdilo’s office, but it had been just that morning.  She unfolded it and only half-read some of the information.  She could barely remember how upset she had been about it, earlier.  She thought again of Russ’s half asked question, Is the Burger House all you ever think about?  She sniffed.  He didn’t know anything about her concerns, about what she thought about.  Who she thought about.  That was just as well.

She turned to look back down at him.  He was lying on his side, eyes shut, with his arms wrapped around himself, and the sight sent a little shiver of fear through her.  Liseli put the brochure back in her pocket, and crouched down next to him.  “Russ?  Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond — he appeared to be asleep, though he was grimacing as if suffering from stomach pains.  What is the matter with you?  Liseli reached out to feel his temperature again, hovering her hand over him before following through.  It seemed odd to touch him while he slept, but he didn’t awaken when she rested her palm on the side of his face.  He felt very hot; just as bad, if not worse than earlier in the day.  Liseli moved her hand up to his forehead, and he stirred slightly, mumbling something unintelligible, but did not open his eyes.

The world was all gray now, the sun a mere shadow of memory behind the mountains.  Liseli shivered at the chill that crept into the air, and she thought about trying to wake Russ up so they could get to the river before it became completely dark.  But as she drew her hand away and looked down at his face, tense even in his sleep, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Liseli crawled back over by the tree, and sat up against it, darting a glance around at the dark woods.  She could barely remember the last time she’d slept outside, years ago when her mother had been married to Ike Stevens, who was very fond of camping.  She remembered one trip . . . they’d gone hiking on a trail around the campsite, and she and Leona had stopped to gather up pinecones.  Ike had told them that it was “tree poop” and they’d dropped their stash and run screaming to Candace while he laughed.  Liseli smiled faintly at the memory.  Ike hadn’t been such a bad guy . . . he liked jokes.  He was similar to her dad, that way . . . and then he’d left, just like Dad.

The temperature dropped rapidly once the sun was gone, and Liseli clutched herself in a tense embrace.  Everything was quiet, except for the vigorous chirping of frogs and crickets down by the pond.  Russ became an obscure lump where he lay a few feet away from her, as all things were shrouded in the cloud of night.  She stared at him intently, as her eyes threatened to droop shut.  She felt very alone, worlds away from the room she shared with her sisters at home.  She was sure they wouldn’t notice her absence.  Lara was only three, and would be long asleep before Liseli was even due to arrive home, and Leona was probably out on a date and would drop into her own bed hours later without bothering to notice who was or wasn’t in the others.  At least they wouldn’t be worried.

She shut her eyes and searched for a halfway comfortable position on the ground, trying not to think about the insects around her.  It was getting so cold.  She listened to the sound of the crickets, and Russ’s rattling wheeze, wondering how she was ever to sleep with that much noise.

I can’t sleep . . . I can’t sleep . . . I can’t sleep . . .  she turned the words over and over in her head.  The ground was too hard.  The air was too cold.  I can’t sleep . . . .  I want to go home, please . . . don’t let this be home . . . .