Story #10

Standing up, she looked at the table, everything was ready. She took down three of the blue tin plates and was moving towards the table, when she looked over and nearly dropped them. It was the boy standing at the end of the hall, not her Grandfather. He was barefoot, and the bandages on his torso and head had small spots of red on them. He was staring straight ahead, out the front door, holding perfectly still. Veronica straightened carefully, and set the plates down on the table. The small noise turned his head, and they locked eyes. His face was white, and his eyes were wary. She wiped her hands on her jeans, and pulled out a chair, gesturing to it. He walked towards it slowly, in his level smooth stride, and sat down, eyes still on her. Veronica pointed to herself.

“I’m Veronica.” He looked at her, not understanding. She pointed again. “Veronica.” He paused, and nodded slowly. Pointing to himself, he spoke in his deep, strange voice.

“Gi.” They stared into each other’s eyes, not sure what to do next. At last she pointed to the bandages on his head.

“I need to change those.” He looked back at her, and she knew she’d just have to do it and hope he didn’t hit her. She stepped forward and reached forward, his hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. He looked up at her, and she down at him, and she made herself stay calm. She repeated the words as coolly as she could.

“I need to change those, Gi.” At the sound of his name, the boy looked at her in one long glance, and dropped her wrist. She let her breath out, and hoped he wouldn’t notice she was trembling. She unwound the linen and set it on the chair next to her. She examined the wound, and touched it gently with her fingertips, he winced, but didn’t pull away. The bleeding was stopped, and it was scabbed over, but there was bruising around it and the gash wasn’t very small. She turned and put a pot of fresh water on the stove, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. It was eerie how silent he was, and how well his eyes communicated when he couldn’t speak her language. Not for the first time, she observed the strangeness of the situation. On a normal day, she would have gotten up, eaten breakfast with her grandfather, fed the animals and set to work in the garden, and whatever else needed to be done, but things were different today. She turned, and found Gi staring at the food on the table. She didn’t know if Grandfather had fed him before bed, but it was unlikely. She silently filled a glass with water and set it before him. He looked at it, half suspiciously and half with curiosity. She pulled up a chair in front of him and sat down. He looked at her, and then picked up the glass and took a drink. He drained the glass. She picked it up and filled it for him again. It was so strange to be moving so quietly. No talking, just looks. She sat back down, and waited for him to finish drinking, and then unwound the bandage around his chest. He looked down, face blank. This whole time, he hadn’t smiled, or spoken at all aside from his name. His body was long, compact, and lean. She wondered what would happen if someone hit him. They would probably be the one to go flying. Veronica’s eyes flicked up to his face, and back to his wounds. She decided it had to be done, and got up. He watched her as she opened the pantry, and took down a bundle of dried herbs and the mortar, and set to work making a poultice. She could never remember the name of the herb, but it was always what they used when she or Grandfather got hurt. There were a lot of things higher on her list of things she wanted to do than rub herbs on a stranger’s chest, but she took the glob on her fingers, and fell to her knees in front of him. He looked startled, but didn’t stop her as she began applying it to various deep cuts on his chest and stomach. She heard him suck in his breath, and winced for him. She knew from experience that it stung in an open wound, but she didn’t look up and meet his eyes. Long years of living on a farm had taught her not to say her apprehensions out loud. Better to approach it cautiously and explain with your actions that you weren’t sure, than to go in confidently and be wrong. Either way it had to be done, and she refused to allow the chance of being wrong to stop her from getting things done. That was how she did most things. Careful thinking, followed by a headlong calculated rush into the flames, and an inward acknowledgement that she very well may be wrong. Her fine red eyebrows curved in concentration. Finally, she finished and stood up. He had been staring hard at the floor against the pain, and she saw his fist clenching the edge of the table, knuckles white. He looked up at her, and she smiled at him. His stone mouth curved into a deep smile that lit up his eyes and his whole hard face softened. She felt herself blushing and turned away quickly before he noticed. Taking the bandages, she turned them to a whiter spot on the strips and reapplied them. She knew they weren’t really clean, but they were better than nothing. He was still clenching the table, and his jaw. His face expressed nothing, but the shimmering green eyes showed his pain.  She finished, and straightened. She avoided his eye as she turned towards the stove, fiddling with something that didn’t need to be fiddled with. Then she heard his voice, slowly, and unsurely, ask,

“Ver-onica?” She looked at him, surprised. He took it for an answer, and gestured towards the food, looking sheepish and questioning. She laughed inwardly. Oh duh, poor guy, of course he needs to eat.  She nodded vigorously and smiled warmly, pointing to the food. He grinned, and nodded thankfully. She felt awkward as he started to eat, and decided not to wait for her Grandfather to get up. Gi was intent on eating, and it was probably safe to leave him here for a few minutes, so she moved quietly towards the door, and closed it behind her. She took a deep breath of the morning air, and grinned to herself. This is really weird. This is REALLY really weird.

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