Текст книги "The Wall"

Автор книги: Lauren Nicolle Taylor

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

“Call me Addy, please. I’m alive because I want to be. And he didn’t find me; I’ve always been here. I’m like the furniture, dear, old but sturdy,” she said, smiling crookedly; it looked like an effort to move her cheeks that far up her face.

Orry cried. He let out one long, howling note and then took several sharp intakes of breath like he was panicking. It was a noise that pierced right through me. He missed me. I knew it. I could feel it.

“May I?” she asked me.

“I guess,” I said shyly.

She approached the door without putting on the gloves and mask.

“I thought you were all worried we would make you sick or something,” I challenged.

“Like you said—I’m so old. I shouldn’t even be alive. I’m not scared of your Woodland germs,” she said dismissively, waving a wrinkled, bark-like hand at me.

Matthew stopped her. “Addy, you need to put on the suit. Otherwise, we will have to quarantine you as well.”

The old woman made a clucking sound with her tongue. “Very well, doctor man. You’re the boss.” She held her hand to her head in mock salute. He smiled back at her with such affection I felt embarrassed to be party to it.

Matthew helped her into the big, plastic coveralls, booties, and facemask while I watched her old limbs struggling to lift and maneuver their way into pant legs and armholes. She made an inordinate amount of noise for someone so small. Each movement of her bony body crackled and sighed like she was made of brittle sticks. It was almost too painful to watch.

Finally, she bustled through Orry’s door, large bag in hand, her oversized, plastic suit swishing with static. Placing the bag on the floor, she pulled out a knitted rabbit and placed it at the end of the cot. Matthew sighed and rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to leave that bag there now,” he said, trying to sound aggravated but coming off more amused. She rolled her eyes back and made a ‘pfft’ noise.

She scooped Orry up, who screamed at first, wriggling and fighting. Just like his mother, I thought. But she wrapped him up tightly and rocked him back and forth. She was strong. When she picked up Orry, I imagined she would crumple like a paper figure but she had him. He stopped crying. He felt secure.

She started singing.

“Are you trying to torture my child?” I asked.

Why would you sing about a baby falling out of a tree? It would give them nightmares. She paused, smiled, and changed the song.

Her voice was soft and dusty at first, but once she brushed it off, it was beautiful. The words were lilting and comforting. Rhythmic. And Orry responded to it immediately. The rise and fall of the melody brought tears to my eyes. How I ever lived in a world without music, I’ll never know. She sang about trying to get home. Once there was a way to get back home. The words flew over me and transcribed our experiences perfectly. Sleep, pretty darling, don’t you cry. I thought she was finished but then the last part gave me goose bumps all over my skin. How did she know?

Golden slumbers fill your eyes.

Smiles await you when you rise.

Sleep , pretty darling

Do not cry.

And I will sing a lullaby.

Orry calmed down and the old woman placed him gently in his cot. She stretched her back after he was down and planted herself in a chair in front of my cage.

“What was that?” I said, desperation pitching my voice higher. I was clinging to it.

She clucked her tongue. “You’ve never heard The Beatles before?” She shook her head like she was so very sorry for me.

“Can you teach me?”

She nodded. “Sure, but first you have to do something for me.”

“Ok,” I said, suspiciously. Matthew had walked away, talking to one of the other doctors.

“It’s give and take here,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice. “What can you do, apart from be a smart mouth?”

I paused. It had been so long since I’d done anything useful. I noticed the chair she was sitting on was wobbling, creaking every time she shifted her weight.

“If you bring me some tools, I can fix that,” I said, pointing to the chair.

“Deal. As long as it doesn’t end up a pile of splinters or slammed against the wall,” she said sternly but with a hint of humor to her voice.

So my education with Addy began.

Every day she brought me things to fix and in return, she helped me with Orry. She taught me songs, gave him toys, and answered my questions.

When I asked her about the Survivors, she tried her best to answer everything in detail. I wore her out, though. Quite often, she would fall asleep in the chair mid-conversation and I would have to wait until she had rested before continuing. Her age, and the way she behaved because of it, was intriguing to me. She was smart and aware like an adult, but she needed as much sleep as a baby.

I managed to find out the Survivors had been nomadic for the most part, moving from town to town until they settled here about twenty years ago. It seemed close to the Woodlands but it was far enough away that the helicopters, which were battery powered, always ran out of juice and had to return to the solar-charging stations before they could reach the settlement. The people were mostly of Russian, Mongolian, and Chinese descent. There were only a few Chinese—the Superiors hadn’t lied about that—as they were almost completely wiped out. Clothes were scavenged from abandoned factories, as were canned and processed foods, like the fizzy drink. They liked to grow their own when they could.

Beyond the city was nothing, a vast blackness of dust and destruction. People who had dragged themselves from those ruins were diseased, or almost dead. Hardly anyone survived the first few years.

The population was small—maybe three thousand.

She had the same small charm around her neck, which she played with while she talked. It hung between her collarbones, her wrinkly skin and neck trying to envelope it with their sagginess. “What is it?” I asked.

She removed it and looked both ways before passing it through the door. She dropped it and it landed on the ground with a metallic chink. Examining it closely, it was just a simple circle of metal with a square hole in it.

“During a routine scavenge, we found a big metal box, as big as a house, standing out against all the rubble. Inside, we found millions of these, as well as stacks upon stacks of small slips of paper. We took some and thought it would be a useful way of identifying members of the community. Everyone has one. You’ll get one too.”

I tried to imagine a young Addy, agilely climbing over rubble and searching out treasures in abandoned buildings. I couldn’t quite do it. In my mind, she looked the same but bounded across the rocks like she had springs in her shoes.

“What if I don’t want one?” I said.

“You will.”

I smirked. “You’re a bit of a know-it-all, old lady.”

She crimped her lips together in a fake frown. Then she grinned, showing all her teeth and several holes where teeth used to be.

“Get back to work!” she said, flapping her hands at me.

Joseph watched our interactions quietly. He peered over his book every now and then, the pages shaking like rustling leaves when he laughed to himself.

Addy saved me.

I needed something to do. And she gave me a sense of purpose. Or maybe it was just distraction. Whatever it was, it stopped me from going crazy. The nightmares still came but I felt like I could handle them. The week went by more smoothly because of her.

Her presence also gave me hope. If she were allowed to exist, if she had a relationship with her grandchild, maybe things were different here. In the Woodlands, old people were just shoved to the edges and I don’t even know what happened to them if they didn’t have the common decency to die quietly. Addy was loud, opinionated, and people listened to her. It was strange, but a welcome strange.

On a day when there was more silence between us than talking, I tapped on the glass lightly to get Addy’s attention. There was something I wanted to ask her but I wasn’t sure how to phrase it. It bothered me that I didn’t know enough about the elderly. I wanted to know what it felt like to live on the edge of death.

Addy’s head was hooked under and she was snoozing in her chair again. “Addy, Addy,” I said, between tapping. She snorted awake, sounding like an ailing lawnmower. “Goodness! What, dear?”

“Can I ask you something, er, personal?”

She narrowed her eyes a little but she had a smile on her face. “Depends on what it is.”

“Right.” I looked at the floor and breathed in. “Um… are you afraid to die? I mean, since you’re so old?” Joseph had his back to us against the glass wall; it shook from his sniggering shoulders.

Addy’s eyebrows rose but she looked at me kindly. “I don’t want to die, dear, but I accept that I will. What about you, are you afraid to die?”

I thought about it. I hadn’t really considered the reality of death. But when I was in Pau, I always felt that my life would be a short one. Like the fireworks they released over the Great Wall at New Years, my life would be a brilliant flash of sparks and color but would flame out all too quickly. Now I didn’t know. Orry and Joseph had changed the way I thought about my life.

“Hello in there… I’m dying of boredom over here,” Addy said, waving her hands in front of my eyes.

“Sorry,” I replied, snapping out of my thoughts. “I think, no. I’m not afraid to die. What’s the point of being afraid of something inevitable? But I really want to live for as long as I can.”

Her eyes reached me, grey but warm. So compassionate. “That’s good. Very good.”

I woke up to something shaking me. Rough hands that felt like they were made of spun, dried grass, light with no substance to them. I batted them away, unwilling to give up sleep. “Rosa, wake up,” a raspy voice urged.

Addy.

I opened my eyes and her face was two inches from my own. I jumped.

“Your face is way too scary for this time of the morning,” I yawned.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, scowling. She smacked my leg but it was like she’d tapped me with a straw broom. I barely felt it.

“Didn’t your mother teach you how to speak to your elders?”

I cringed. “Is that a trick question? Or is that just one of your silly sayings?” I hated it when she brought up family. And she always did. She was like a dog with a bone. She couldn’t let it go… unless she was just forgetful. It was hard to tell sometimes.

She patted my leg again and smiled. I tried to shake off my morning crankiness. I needed to remember I actually liked this woman and I shouldn’t be so rude.

“Is she always like this in the mornings?” Addy directed at Joseph.

“What?” he smirked. “Beautiful, captivating, beguiling?”

I blushed and then snapped, “I’m pretty sure those are all words for the same thing. You’ve been reading too many romantic novels.”

Addy clucked her tongue and grabbed my face with her crinkled hands. “Today you get out.”

“Really?” I pulled myself up straight. I couldn’t believe it. The last week had flown by.

She nodded, her light grey eyes sparkling. Even if she was ancient, I felt like we were so similar. Cut from the same cloth, is what she would say. I pulled her to me in a tight embrace. Unidentifiable sweet smells emanated from her clothing and it was like squeezing a bird, her thin bones, her body, was so delicate I was afraid I would crush her.

I released her and she clapped her hands impatiently. “You all need to get dressed and get ready to face them. Today you get to meet the rest of us.”

Matthew and a few other doctors came up to the doorway, which was now propped open. I was torn, wanting to run to Joseph but also wanting to grab Orry. Joseph made the decision for me, slamming through his door and coming towards me in what looked like painfully restrained steps. Addy shuffled out of the room so fast it was like she’d grown wheels in her feet.

After two weeks of staring at each other through glass, it was all I could do not to jump on him and knock him over. But I tried to stand still, aware of other people watching us. Joseph didn’t seem to care. He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me to his chest. I threw my arms around his neck and breathed in him in. Golden cymbals clashed around my ears, blocking out any other noise, any other distraction. I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my face up to meet his. It was too easy for him to hold me up. Like it was no effort at all.

It’s funny how every kiss seems to have a slightly different meaning, a different intention behind it. This kiss was more desire than any others before it. Lips were hungry. Tastes magnified. Not just warmth, heat. If we were alone in that moment, it would have led to something much more. But someone coughed loudly. Deshi.

Joseph whispered into my ear, his warm breath sending tiny shivers through my body. “Do I have to let you go?”

I only managed, “Mhmm,” and a nod.

He let me down but kept a hold of my waist.

“All right, you two, that was disgusting,” Deshi laughed. “Can we get ready to go now?”

Reluctantly, I let Joseph go but it was like he took half my beating heart with him. The feeling scared me a little. The want to be so close to him, as close as I could possibly be, was powerful. Overwhelming.

Addy agreed with Deshi, muttering something about ‘a time and a place’. She brought Orry in to see me while Joseph got dressed. It felt so good to hold my son again. He felt heavier, his eyes brighter. How did he change so fast?

Once everyone was dressed, we lined up and Matthew gave us a talk. Addy busied herself packing up her bag, giving me a wink every now and then. I sidled up to Apella and gave her a gentle squeeze. She managed a weak smile. We were all nervous, none of us knowing what to expect.

“Ok, everyone. From here, we will go to the meeting hall. It’s nothing special, but everyone wants to meet you,” Matthew said.

This filled me with dread. I pictured an angry mob armed with Coca Cola cans ready to aim at our heads. We were responsible for the deaths of several of their community members. I didn’t know how the others were feeling, except for Joseph. I sensed he was thinking of nothing else other than being alone with me; it was the dominant feeling in my mind. He kept his hand around my waist, slipping it under my shirt so he could touch my skin as we walked. It was driving me crazy and I wanted to swat him off but at the same time couldn’t bear the idea of losing that connection. As we neared the glass doors of the ward, Matthew grabbed the back of my shirt and gently pulled me backwards towards the hallway. I turned towards him, irritation radiating from my eyes.

“Can I speak with you?” The others were walking on ahead, only Joseph hung in the doorway waiting for me.

“What do you want?” I said tersely.

Matthew grabbed my wrist and opened my fingers, pressing something into my palm. My fingers closed around four small, plastic wheels, pills radiated around the outer edges, the days of the week in tiny writing below them. I looked at Matthew confused.

“Am I sick? Did the tests show something?” I whispered. Joseph caught the concern in my face and started towards me.

Matthew laughed quietly, “No, no. It’s just… I don’t know what your plans are in terms of adding to your family but if you take these every day on the day specified, well, you can control when you want to have another baby.”

My face bloomed crimson. Who knew such a thing existed? “You mean I won’t get pregnant?”

Matthew nodded. I closed my hand around the discs and slipped them into my pocket. This really was a strange new world. Joseph and I weren’t even close to having to worry about another baby, but a choice would be nice.

“Thank you,” I managed.

I caught up with Joseph and we were ushered down a hall and then… sunlight. It was cold but the air had the promise of spring in it. I stood and breathed it in. My lungs danced, reaching out to grab more, more air. My eyes instantly skimmed back towards the Great Wall, back to the simple, wooden shacks. They were there. I hadn’t imagined them.

When I returned my eyes to what was in front of us, I could see the city was just as Matthew had described the Survivors’ whole lifestyle—pieced together.

The roads were narrow and grey asphalt. It was cracked and you could see the well-worn paths people used to avoid the bigger potholes. There were spinner tracks running down the main street. The buildings looked old, ancient, and if they were designed for a specific purpose, they had definitely been repurposed. It was a cheery, hopeful kind of construction. If something was broken, it had been fixed or propped up with new timber or bits of shiny-colored tin, giving everything a half-finished, half-old, half-new look. No space was wasted. It was neat, tidy, and absolutely ramshackle. A patchwork city.

“Since the sun is out, we’ll walk,” Matthew announced. We followed him and he pointed out different things as we went. “This town used to be a huge tourist destination. People came from all over the world to see the Wall.” Why would anyone want to visit a wall? “They had masses of restaurants, shopping centers, movie theaters…” I couldn’t keep up with him… every second word was foreign and had little or no meaning to me.

The whole town sloped downwards like it was tilted towards something. Up ahead, people were walking downhill, dressed in all manner of clothing. They were coming from every direction, heading toward a big, stone-fronted building with red and gold paint peeling off its ornate, carved-stone frames. It had a large verandah that was sagging at one end. Wooden and steel scaffolding held up the worst side. Blackened plastic casings that once held light bulbs lined every straight edge of the structure.

As we walked, we could see most of the buildings in this area were once shop fronts. Some were still used as such but most had been turned into homes. Colorful, painted flowerboxes filled with dirt hung out of windows ready for warmer weather. I imagined flowers spilling over the edges, dripping with vibrant petals. Brightly sewn curtains hung in the windows. I peered through the panes and saw a small display of miniature models of the Great Wall behind us, some carved from wood, some set in plaster, all with little, metal placards glinting in the sunlight that read: The Great Wall of China.

This place was a standing contradiction. Amazing technology set amongst a self-made mishmash. It boggled the mind. I was in awe of what they had managed to do.

“We’ll sneak in the back. This used to be an old movie theater. It seats about four hundred. The rest will probably be standing.”

The rest? I stifled an eek.

We stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. None of us knew what the words ‘movie’ or ‘theater’ meant. I was aching to find out though.

We ducked into a side street before the theater and Matthew guided us through a door, into a dark space. I walked straight into heavy material, hanging from a very high ceiling. It was shedding bits of red fluff and smelled like dust. Velvet. Very extravagant for curtains, my mother would have said. All the while, Joseph kept his hand on me, leaning in to smell my hair. When we stopped, he placed his chin on my head, making it hard to think of anything other than unbuttoning his shirt and laying my head on his muscled chest. I sighed but it came out more like a grunt as I pushed the air out and forced myself to concentrate.

We could all hear the voices. They melded together into one collective hum. Odd smells of rancid butter and heat from too many bodies wafted through the air. Exchanging glances nervously, we shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, like we were stretching for a race. The unfamiliarity of it, the noise, and the oppressive heat hovered over us like a starter gun poised to fire. We were used to running. It was our first instinct.

Matthew looked at us sympathetically. “It’s all right. They just want to meet you.”

Oh God. I really didn’t want to go first.

Joseph took a deep breath and spoke, his voice deep and calming, “Let’s all go out together.” Then he grinned and said, “And if they turn on us, we’ll throw Deshi to them and run like hell!”

Deshi punched him lightly. “Nice.”

“No one’s going to turn on you. They’re just curious,” Matthew said. He strolled through the curtains and out onto a dark, wooden stage. I peered after him. My heart pounded in my chest as I saw at least a few hundred pairs of eyes following him as he walked to the center. The voices settled down and they waited for him to speak. “Ok, they’re here. Be nice…” He beckoned with his arm. The crowd started making noise again. Maybe they weren’t that interested in us anyway. Joseph walked out and Matthew introduced him, then Deshi, and Alexei. Apella was standing next to me holding Hessa, her feet stuck in the same glue as mine. Then those dried-up old hands started shoving me ineffectually. “Just get on with it, dear.” The crowd still hummed. Not really paying attention. Someone yelled out, confused, “I thought there were more?”

All right, I thought, one, two, three. I stepped out with Orry in my arms and dragged Apella with me.

I don’t know what I was expecting. Not this.

They looked impressed. People clapped and cheered. I recognized some faces. Gwen, Gus, Cal, all smiling, with admiring expressions everywhere.

I felt ridiculous standing there on show. I waved at the ones I knew and sat down on the stage, my legs dangling over the edge. I looked up at Matthew as if to say, What is this all about? He leaned down and whispered, “You’re the first escapees from the Woodlands. They’re impressed.”

People started approaching us, offering clothing, food, someone mentioned a vacant house they would help us fix up if we were interested. They also asked for help. Asked us what skills we had. A lot of people just wanted to touch Orry and Hessa, leaning over them cooing and fussing like they’d never seen a baby before. It was too much and I found my eyes tearing up. Kindness. Was this how people were supposed to behave?

Joseph was smiling but he looked tired. This was overwhelming, even for him. He held out his hand and I took it. Cal was staring at me again, looking back and forth between my face and our joined hands. I hoped it was a friendly stare but it made me feel uneasy.

The way they were all fussing over Orry and Hessa made me think. I scanned the crowd and could not pick out one child. Sometimes, I wished I had a notebook I could get out and jot down all the suspicious questions I had accumulated in my head. Where were all the children?

There was no time to ask. We found ourselves sucked into the crowd and carried outside on a wave of people. I looked back and could see Addy waving at me from the stage with a big grin on her face, her ruddy features becoming smaller and blurrier as the rush of people pulled us out on their tide.

My chest seized. No. We were letting ourselves be carried out on this current of strangers. I turned and battled my way back through the crowd. I wasn’t going to leave anyone else behind. Joseph was inadvertently pushing me forward with the heel of his hand so when I turned around, he pushed me in the chest. Face to face, I frowned at him.

“I’m going back to get Addy,” I said.

“Why?”

I ignored his question. It was too hard to explain. The others had stopped at a shop front that had been converted to a home. Red and white poles decorated either side of the door and a picture of a man’s head floated over the entrance. These glimpses into the past had a bitter taste to them. The floating man with initials KFC, was probably dead, his dark-rimmed glasses and bowtie buried with him. They were inspecting it, I suppose, as a possible home.

I twisted my head to look at the sky, watching a black scribble of a bird lazily wind its way around in circles. I had longed to be free of them for so long but now the idea of us living apart frightened me. We had become each other’s safety and comfort, an annoyance but an anchor in a too-fast changing future. I kept pushing past the flow of foot traffic, making my way to the theater. Joseph sighed his Rosa sigh and came thumping after me. Addy, I could trust. I wanted her advice on what we should do.

When I got to the door, Addy was climbing carefully off the stage. I looked up at the red-velvet curtains. From here, they looked grander. I wondered about the people who had time to sit in these seats and watch a performance. It seemed lazy to me.

“What are you doing back here, girl?” Addy asked, raising her eyebrows.

“I… I want you to come with us. I didn’t want to leave you behind,” I said, not really sure why I came, just that I couldn’t turn my back and walk away from one more person.

“Oh, I’m fine, silly girl. I would have caught up to you eventually,” she replied, waving me away.

“I doubt it, the way you move,” I laughed.

She took my arm and we walked outside, very slowly. The others were still standing at the shop front. I approached them and asked what was happening. A small group of Survivors was still around us, including Cal.

The Survivors had been busy while we were in quarantine. They’d found us all possible places to live—two here, and one up the hill. It made me very uncomfortable that we were being helped so much. I got the sense we would be asked for something in return soon enough. It was their way.

A woman, who introduced herself as Odval, swept her long, brown hair behind her ears as she talked in dips and mumbles. She pointed out all the main rooms, the patchwork pieces of furniture salvaged from various places. Her eyes were warm, dark pools framed with short, dark lashes and her skin was wrinkled, though only around her eyes and mouth. She looked down at the babies and sighed, sweeping Hessa’s hair back gently with her finger. She emanated loss. I could tell, because it was same grief that sometimes steamed off my body in plumes. Where was her child? Did she lose one or just wished she had one? My mouth pursed as I thought. How did you even go about asking such a question?

Addy spoke, “How’s your husband, Odval? I’ll have those scarves and hats ready for you early next week.”

Odval’s sweet voice responded as though startled from deep thought, “Scarves? Oh yes, thanks Addy. I’ll bring those casseroles over this afternoon.”

Odval continued with her tour and then we were back at the front door. It was meant for one of us but we had to choose who would stay here.

After talking amongst ourselves, it was decided that Deshi and Hessa would stay. He wanted to be close to the hospital and science labs. We left them, promising to meet up later.

Apella and Alexei, who had been surprisingly quiet, were now whispering to each other. I wondered if this is what they had hoped to find. It was more than I had expected, but whether it met their expectations, the dream they had come up with when we left the Woodlands, I wasn’t sure.

All I knew, as we walked to the next dwelling with Cal hovering too close, was, for now, we needed to rely on these people’s kindness. But as soon as I could, I wanted to start repaying our debt.

Apella and Alexei chose the dwelling nearest to Deshi. It was on a second floor of a dilapidated apartment building and afforded them a view of what lay beyond the city. Like the wilderness around the Woodlands, the trees pressed up against the ruins. I decided to climb to the roof of the building. The survivors followed: Cal, Odval, and three other men.

We tripped up concrete stairs. Addy stayed behind, complaining of sore legs. The air was cold and had that barely breathed taste to it. Most of the rooms in this place were empty and the windows were blasted out. I shuddered to think of this town full of people. I felt that ball of hate for the Superiors rolling around, gathering weight and fire as it churned my insides. How could they live with so much death on their hands? They stood atop a giant pile of bodies. Innocent people.

We came to a heavy door and Cal tried to open it, pushing with his shoulder, but it wouldn’t budge. Joseph tried to kick it in, but it just sent a shock through his leg and he limped back and sat on the stairs. I sensed a bit of male ego jousting going on in front of me.

“Why are we here anyway?” Joseph asked. He looked weary, but still managed to slide his hand up my calf. I smiled down at him. I didn’t really know.

“I just want to see,” I said simply, placing my hand on his neck and winding it around to his ear, raising goose bumps as I went.

One of the older men sighed, rolled his eyes, and pulled a pocketknife from his jacket. He jimmied the lock until we heard it click.

The big, metal door creaked open and we walked out onto a flat, concrete roof. It was windy and hard to hear what people were saying. I handed Orry to Odval and made my way to the edge. I wanted to see what lay beyond the city, beyond the woods.

It was like strips of color had been laid down across the earth. The lines unnaturally defined. There was the grey of the city pressed up against a line of trees. Then, beyond the woods, far enough away that it looked like the horizon ended close to it, was black. A curved line of grey retreated away from the tree line and disappeared into a menacingly dark abyss where no color touched or reflected. A bombsite.

I sensed a body behind me and thinking it was Joseph, I leaned into it.

“That’s why they won’t come here. We’re too close to it,” Cal said, his lips tickling my ear. I jolted forward and Cal grabbed my shoulders as I over balanced and nearly went over the edge.

He pulled me close against him so that I could feel his uneven breathing and gripped me tightly for a second before releasing me. I glanced wide-eyed over his shoulder to Joseph. His eyes showed strain but he seemed to be forcing his body not to react. I almost wished he would let himself go and punch Cal, but I didn’t know how the others would react. Besides, if someone was going to punch him, it should be me.

“Is it safe? I mean to be this close?” I asked. Although I’m not sure what difference it would make. They were stuck here for now.

“On the whole. But we do have our problems,” one of the men replied.