Fine Thanks

Discovering that Zeph and Sammy were on their way left me a lot more anxious and a lot less excited than I'd expected. I found this confusing, and was still trying to make sense of my reaction by the time I arrived back at camp. Whereupon, immediately, I became even more confused.

There was nothing in the clearing to suggest we'd buried Sten that morning. The atmosphere was more like a Sunday than a wake. A few people were kicking a football beside the longhouse, Jesse and Cassie were whistling as they laid out some washing to dry, Unhygienix was playing the Gameboy with Keaty watching over his shoulder. Françoise was the biggest surprise. She was sitting with Étienne and Gregorio in the spot occupied by the Bugs faction until only yesterday. I'd expected her to be keeping an eye on Karl until sundown, as she had every day since the attack. In fact, a quick look around didn't show up any missing faces, so I guessed Karl had been left alone.

In a way, it was reassuring to learn that, whatever my own state of mind, I was sane enough to recognize this as abnormal behaviour. And to make sure that my companions' behaviour was as in­appropriate as it appeared, when I passed Cassie I asked her how she was feeling. I chose her partly because she was on my route, but also because this was the question she'd nagged me with in the days following the food poisoning. 'Um,' she said, not pausing from hanging up the washing. 'I've been worse.'

'...You aren't feeling sad?'

'About Sten? Oh yes, I am, of course. But I believe the burial helped. It puts it in the past, I think. In perspective, wouldn't you say?'

'...Sure.'

'It was so difficult to find perspective while his body was lying around.' She laughed, looking puzzled. 'What an awful thing to say.'

'But it's true.'

'Yes. I think the burial was the release we needed. Just look how it relieved the tension around here... Shorts, Jesse.'

Jesse handed her a pair of shorts.

'And Sal's speech was a great help too. We needed her to bring us together. We've been talking a lot about Sal's speech. We thought it was very good, didn't we?'

Jesse's face was hidden by the heap of damp T-shirts he held in his arms, but I saw his scalp nod.

'Yes,' Cassie continued, in her vague and cheerful monologue. 'She's good at that kind of thing... Charisma and... And what about you, Richard? How are you feeling?'

'I'm feeling fine.'

'Mmm,' she said absently. 'Of course. You always are, aren't you?'

I left Cassie and Jesse a few minutes later, after some small talk that wouldn't bear mentioning if it wasn't that the small talk was another reason why everything felt so strange. The only time I got close to unsettling Cassie was when I asked after Karl and Christo. She dropped the T-shirt she was holding at the time — not the dramatic response it might seem but an inconsequential slip of the hand. Less inconsequential was her reaction. 'Fuck it!' she snapped, which was unusual in itself because Cassie rarely swore, and her face darkened with a sudden flush. Then she held the shirt up, glowering at where the dirt had stuck to the damp material, and threw it back at the ground. 'Fuck it!' she said again. A strand of spit that had been linking her lips broke with the force of the words, and the top half swung upwards and clung to her cheek. I didn't bother to repeat the question.

Date: 2015-02-03; view: 667