Читать книгу Deserted - Nathan Roberts - Страница 8

“What should we name it?” Adam asked holding a small brown snake by the tail. His two young sons, Cain and Abel, watched as its scaly body wriggled back and forth, its red tongue flickering in and out like a sword.

“What about calling it a dirt snake?” Abel shouted, his four-year-old fingers petting the very end of the tail.

“Hm . . . dirt snake you say?” He smiled turning the snake as he rubbed his long graying beard.

“But remember that we found it on the branch of a tree?” Adam added.

“How about Branch Snake!” Abel shouted.

“Excellent idea!” Adam grinned, pulling out a long dusty scroll from his satchel.

“Is that the kind of snake that bit mommy?” Cain asked as he watched the snake slither with a sick feeling in his stomach. He stepped off the red dirt path onto a large rock, his eyes checking nearby branches and tree trunks.

They had walked all morning, up and down the shadowy forest trails, surrounded on all sides by chirping and squawking, the howls of hidden monkeys, and creatures rustling in the tall dark bushes. It had been a long time since he had gone exploring and the forest seemed to hold a lot more creatures than he had remembered. But the snake wriggling between his dad’s fingers was the first animal Cain had actually seen.

“What was that about mommy?” Adam asked. His knees were in the dirt, a long scroll unrolled in front of him. Adam held the snake with one hand and sketched it with the other. The scroll was already covered in dozens of snake drawings each with its own new name.

“I said,” Cain asked louder, “is that the kind of snake that bit mommy?” Cain could feel his heart beating faster. He rubbed the sweat off his forehead.

“No, no,” Adam reassured his son, not bothering to look up from his drawing. “That snake was much much bigger.”

“Bigger?” Cain whispered to himself as he checked the waist-high grass that lined the trail.

Abel’s small frame leaned against his father’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t bump me while I’m drawing,” Adam laughed and licked a finger to blot out a stray line jutting out of the branch snake like a leg. Adam finished drawing and rolled up the scroll. Then he gently placed the newly named branch snake back on a low-hanging naked branch.

“Don’t worry, Cain,” Adam smiled and lifted Abel onto his shoulders. “We’ve been walking these hills for months and we haven’t seen anything to worry about.” Adam reached out for Cain’s hand, and Cain felt his sweaty palm swallowed in his father’s rough skin. Secretly, Cain wished he was still small enough to ride on his father’s shoulders.

The three of them walked until the trail abruptly ended at the edge of a steep, grassy hill. The long wet green shoots reached all the way up to Cain’s belly button. The hill sizzled with the sounds of insects he didn’t recognize. At the bottom Cain could see a small river bordered by trees. Cain hoped they were just stopping to look at the river.

“You can’t see it from here, but the river is full of animals.” Adam said, gently squeezing Cain’s hand. “It’s better up close.”

“Way better.” Abel smirked down at Cain from the safety of their dad’s shoulders.

Cain’s heart sank as his father gently edged off the trail and into the waist-high and very wet grass. His naked toes felt for scales as his eyes checked for bugs. He kept painfully stepping on stones with his bare feet, and his robe felt heavy and wet. The hill got steeper and he nearly fell a few times. But each time his dad’s grip tightened before he hit the ground.

At the bottom of the hill Cain stepped out of the grass. His robe was soaking wet. After he was sure there were no insects on him, he looked at the river. It was definitely not better looking up close. It was just another muddy creek, basically the same as the one behind their house. It had a few big rocks that marked the fast-moving current and a few medium-sized trees. This was not worth spending the rest of the day in a soaking wet robe.

Then he saw a ripple near the shoreline. He watched it and wondered if he had imagined it. He stepped off the warm sand and up onto an exposed tree root. Then there was another ripple, this time above the water. Cain stared at two beady eyes and a long slimy snout. The rest of its massive body remained hidden just under the brown water.

“Snake!” Cain shouted. “There’s a snake!” is eyes unable to look away from the wiggling slimey head. Then Cain froze, thinking maybe it wouldn’t be able to see him if he didn’t move.

It seemed to work. For a moment the head stopped, and then its mouth opened and a large tongue flopped out. Then two legs with long claws poked out of the water, followed by a large shell almost as big as Cain’s whole body.

“You thought that was a snake?” Abel cackled from behind him.

Cain felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. He suddenly wished he was back at home, in his bed and under his blanket. He regretted ever agreeing to come on this hike, forgetting for the moment that he had actually begged to come along.

“Now, now Abel, cut that out.” Adam said pinching Abel’s leg. “That right there is a very big turtle,” Adam whistled. “And it’s better to be cautious. Turtles can bite.”

Cain watched his dad pull out a scroll and his heart leaped. This was a new animal and he had discovered it. “Can we call it . . .” Cain paused, unable to think of a name.

“How about river turtle?” Abel shouted.

“Let’s let Cain have a try. He found it,” Adam said as he continued to sketch the turtle’s large shell.

Cain watched the turtle relax its claws into the warm sand, its head lowered onto the sand and its small black eyes following their movements. Cain wasn’t sure if it was relaxing or waiting to strike, but he had seen his brother touch every animal he named. He was determined to name it so he took a deep breath and took a few slow steps closer. The turtle didn’t move and finally Cain reached out his finger.

The wet shell was softer than the turtles in the river behind their house.

“It’s soft.” Cain said surprised.

“Soft-shelled turtle is a great name!” Adam smiled. Cain watched his dad write soft-shelled turtle beside the turtle drawing.

“Soft-shelled turtle.” Cain whispered to himself with pride.

After the turtle slumped back into the water, Cain beamed with pride, nearly bursting with excitement as they continued walking along the bank of the river.

Abel, determined to outshine his older brother, climbed down from his father’s shoulders and pulled out his small bow. He spent the rest of the day scanning the bushes for creatures, a short wooden arrow at the ready.

Adam sat in the sand engrossed in his scrolls, drawing and re-drawing the branch snake and soft-shelled turtle. Cain watched his younger brother miss two foxes, six rats, and four rabbits.

So Cain sat in the warm sand and waited. But as the afternoon wore on, Cain started to worry about his mom. He had never left her and baby Seth home alone this long. He skipped stones in the current to distract himself, but a long list of chores kept stacking up in his mind. He needed to milk the cows, pick the berries, get fresh water, change Seth’s soiled clothes . . . and as the sun disappeared behind the trees Cain couldn’t wait any longer.

“Do you want some help?” Cain asked, knowing he was a much better shot.

“No. I’m gonna bring home dinner.” Abel yelled as he searched for an arrow lost in a bush.

“Dad, we should probably get going,” Cain said, throwing the rest of his smooth stones into the river.

“Not until I get something!”

“Let’s let your brother catch something first,” Adam said, not looking up from his scroll.

The clouds overhead were a deep reddish purple by the time one of Abel’s arrows stuck in the neck of a baby rabbit.

Cain sighed with relief. He nudged his father, who was still drawing.

“Let’s go,” Cain pleaded. As they climbed the hill it was Cain who was leading the way. His robe was wet again but now the water felt cold against his skin. The forest bustled with new sounds, hoots and croaks. His stomach rumbled with hunger and he worried that there were other hungry mouths with sharp teeth and big claws out there, watching them. Cain cluched his stomach and pulled his father’s hand forward.

But Adam couldn’t be rushed. Stopping to sketch flowers and mushrooms he saw dotting the trail, even as the last light faded from the sky. Abel up on his shoulders, his tired eyes closing for long stretches. In the shadowy trails they got turned around, and after they passed what Cain was sure was the same fork in the path, the trail opened into a large clearing.

At the center of the clearing was a tall tree, twice as tall as those around it. Its main branches were as thick as Cain’s body and covered with long stringy branches that hung down like snarled hair. Each branch ended with a beautiful red and orange fruit with an almost skin-like rind. The clearing was filled with long thick roots that climbed under and over each other in every direction. There were no shrubs, and the dirt was cold and dry. The tree must have drunk all the water, Cain thought.

Adam whistled, “That is a beautiful tree.”

“Let’s bring some of the fruit home!” Abel said, his short arms grasping for a fruit hanging just out of his reach.

“It looks delicious.” Adam grabbed a fruit with both hands and gently tugged it from the branch.

“I bet it’s a healing fruit!” Abel smiled.

“It sure smells delicious.” Adam breathed in deeply. “Cain open your bag, buddy.”

Cain held his small leather satchel open as his father gently placed three of the fruits, each the size of his head, inside his now bulging bag. Cain winced as the satchel’s leather strap dug into his shoulder.

“You gonna be able to carry it?” Adam smiled, steadying Cain’s shoulder.

“I can carry it.” Cain leaned hard to keep his body from tipping over.

“I want to carry one!” Abel shouted.

“You carry your rabbit. That’s enough for you,” Adam replied.

Cain shot a smug smile up at his brother who was perched on top of their dad’s shoulders. “Put me down! I want to walk.” Abel insisted, his small hand punching Adam’s shoulder.

The three walked through the dark in a tired silence. Cain switched the heavy satchel from shoulder to shoulder every few paces.

When they finally left the forest, the sky was purple and dotted with red clouds. Cain could hear the cows calling from home. He felt his chest tighten and the day’s excitement was replaced with worry over all the things he had left undone. The vegetables needed watering, cows and goats needed milking, the eggs gathered, the tall grass around the house still needed to be burned, firewood chopped, the berries needed picking . . . and the list went on. Cain pulled the satchel up against his back and hurried along the winding dirt path home, leaving Adam and Abel behind him.

Once he was through the wooden gate, he hurried to the stable and milked the first cow he saw. Then using the weight of the satchel to counterbalance the nearly full jar of milk, Cain made his way along the small path though the tall dry grass into their darkened house.

Cain could hear his mother and baby brother Seth gently snoring in a duet from her bedroom nearby. He quietly struck the flints together a few times to light the oil lamps on the dining room table.

“Cain?” Eve called with a gravelly voice. “Cain, is that you?” She had clearly been sleeping.

“Don’t worry, mom, it’s just me,” he whispered, peeking his head into her dark bedroom. Her back was propped against the wall and her legs were hidden under blankets. She was exactly where Cain had left her. The only change in the room was that the water, berries, and bread he had left her that morning had been eaten. He dropped the satchel on the dirt floor and one of the fruits rolled out toward the bed.

“We missed you,” she whispered.

“I missed you too.” Cain smiled and kissed her on the cheek before he lit the bedside lamp. The warm glow illuminated Eve’s tired eyes and sallow cheeks. He picked Seth up off the bed and gently lay his sleeping brother on the floor.

“Hey, buddy,” Cain whispered in a light, bubbly voice, gently tickling Seth’s belly. Seth woke up and his wide brown eyes rolled around the room before resting on Cain. He tossed Seth’s wet clothes into a basket, wiped and rewrapped Seth in fresh cloth, before laying him back down on the bed. Eve rubbed Cain’s earlobe appreciatively. A spark of joy ran from his ear all the way down to his toes.

“How was your day?” Eve asked. He poured her a small cup of milk. He thought about telling her that they had found a branch snake. That he was so scared when the turtle popped his head out. But then dad had let him name it. But then he thought about her lying in bed all day, and all the chores he had skipped, and Cain swallowed his excitement.

“The walk was kinda boring.”

Eve’s eyes flashed with a brief smile. “I definitely don’t miss hiking.”

They sat on the bed in silence until Seth started to gently snore.

Cain remembered going on long walks in the woods with his mom and dad. Riding up on Adam’s shoulders, and Abel wrapped tight against his mom’s chest. He remembered her strong hands digging out bright pink and yellow flowers to replant them along the fence in their garden. His dad would stuff his pockets with tree nuts and berries, and fill scroll after scroll with drawings of the strange animals they found.

But something had changed when Seth was born. The night of the birth Cain sat at the dinner table just outside his mom’s bedroom. His stomach knotted as he listened to her scream in pain. His dad sat next to him nervously eating berry after berry from a wooden bowl. All night he watched the midwife run out of the room with blood-stained sheets, then return with her arms full of water and fresh bedding.

“Was it like this when I was born?” Cain had asked during a long terrible silence.

“It’s always like this.” Adam winced as his wife screamed again. Cain didn’t remember falling asleep. But when he woke up, his head was on the table. He could see his mother was lying still on the bed. His new baby brother, Seth, lay next to her. Her head was in the sunlight. She wasn’t moving. She looked dead. He walked to her bed and gently nudged her. She made a guttural sound and he felt his stomach unclench.

But when Eve finally woke up, she was different. It was hard for Cain to say how exactly. She didn’t pay attention to what was happening. She kept forgetting things, and she barely ate. Day after day she lay in bed, her legs under the covers, Seth beside her. The brightness in her eyes slowly faded into a dull tiredness. Her body was still there, but part of her was gone.

After month’s her rosy, plump cheeks became pale and hollow. Her treasured flower garden grew wild and filled with dead branches and weeds. Rabbits and deer began to eat the vegetables. The grass grew long and wild. Eve finally struggled to produce milk and Adam started feeding Seth cow’s milk in the mornings before she woke up and late at night after Eve had fallen asleep.

During the day Adam would take Abel on long hikes, just the two of them. They’d leave early in the morning before Cain woke up. On the first of these walks Cain found a note his dad had left for Eve. Adam wrote that he had left to work on his scrolls and that she was now responsible for taking care of the house and the garden. Cain looked at his mother asleep on her bed. He put the note in his pocket and walked to the garden. He milked the cows and goats, and then swept the house. He placed a bowl of berries and a cup of milk by his mother’s bed and one on the table from his father and Abel. When Adam returned he smiled and nodded at Cain who felt tired, but proud of his work.

The next day the muscles in Cain’s arms and legs ached. But he forced his tired body out of bed. To make the walk around the garden more manageable Cain decided to use a flaming log to clear a path through the tall grass. Slowly lighting the stalks then stamping them out with his sandal.

Each day his chores felt a little more manageable, until the snake came. Cain had caught glimpses of something in the garden. Flashes of brown and yellow, the end of a tail disappearing around a corner. He began carrying his bow and arrow everytime he left the house.

He was picking berries when he heard his mom scream. He ran back to the house with the bow out and an arrow notched. He found his mom sobbing, the bed covered in blood. The snake had come into the house and bit her on the heel as she slept.

“What if it had bit Seth!” Adam shouted at her that night. She should have never let the grass get so long, he said. It was her fault that she’d been bit. She couldn’t just lie in bed. There was work to do. Their sons needed a mother.

Cain sat the dinner table watching. He had never seen his father yell at her before. Adam’s fist balled up as if he was going to hit her. And his mom just lay in bed, silently staring at the wall. Tears rolled down her pale cheeks and onto her pillow. He felt a knot in his chest. This was all his fault. He should have burned all the grass. He should have told someone that there was a snake in the yard.

“It’s my fault.” Cain said quietly.

“What?” Adam shouted at him.

“I should have burned all the grass,” Cain said, trying to hold back tears of his own.

Adam stared at his son and balled up his fist. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Cain nodded. Then he walked past his father and picked up Seth, who was crying in his soaking wet clothes. Cain laid Seth down on floor and changed him. After Adam left the room, Cain smiled at his mom. She gave a faint smile back and reached out to rub Cain’s earlobe. Cain felt a shiver of warmth run through his body. Cain spent the next three weeks in the garden with a bow and arrow slung over his shoulder, burning the grass, and stamping the flames out.

Cain sat on the side of the bed in silence next to his mother, his legs dangling just above the dirt floor. The smell of smoke and cooked rabbit blew in through the window.

“Abel spent the whole afternoon shooting at rabbits,” Cain said, watching his dad scrape the back of the rabbit’s fur as Abel fed small sticks into the growing fire.

“You think they’re going to share any meat with us?” Eve smiled from the corner of her mouth.

“It kinda looked like a baby rabbit,” Cain shrugged.

Eve smirked. “Did you bring something back for me?” pointing at the red and orange fruit lying on the dirt floor by the satchel.

Cain had forgotten about the fruit. He slid off the bed and picked it up. “It’s a new fruit we found,” Cain smiled, handing it to her. “Dad thinks it’s a healing fruit,” he added. Eve turned it over in her hands, rubbing the dimpled skin.

“Should we try it?” She flashed a smile.

“If you want to.” Over the years, they had tried feeding her every type of healing leaf, flower, petal, mushroom, fruit, and milk in the forest. But nothing had helped.

She sat up higher in the bed as she pulled the red and orange skin apart. Inside were clusters of bright green seeds. She took one seed and placed it on her tongue.

“It’s sweet,” she said, then her lips puckered and she coughed. “And tart.” She ate them one by one and then rolled the final green seed around in the palm of her hand before chewing it. Cain lay on her chest, hugging her tightly. She rubbed his earlobe.

“Hopefully I’ll feel better in the morning.” She said, kissing his head.

“I shot this rabbit for you, mommy!” Abel ran into the room holding a tipping plate of thin slices of meat. Abel crawled onto the bed and elbowed Cain out of the way. Spilling red meat grease on the blanket. He held the tipping plate right up to their mother’s face. She opened her eyes wide and smiled as she picked up a stringy brown piece off the plate. For years Cain had watched her force herself to look excited whenever Abel and Adam were around.

“Oh, it’s hot,” she whispered, blowing on it before putting it into her mouth. “But it is delicious,” she said, scruffing Abel’s hair.

Cain reached for a piece of meat but his brother pulled the plate away. “It’s all for mommy!” Abel shouted.

“Shhhh.” Cain punched Abel’s shoulder and whispered, “Seth is sleeping. You’re gonna wake him up.”

“Ow.” Abel said. He took an exaggerated bite of meat, clearly taunting Cain.

“Give me some!” Cain said, unable to hold his voice down.

“Shhh.” Abel smiled deviously, as Cain fell right into his trap.

Cain clenched his fist. He wanted to punch Abel right in his stupid smiling face.

Eve put her hands on her son’s shoulders and whispered, “Abel, thank you for the rabbit but . . .” Eve pointed to the sleeping baby beside her. Abel smiled at his mom, then shot a mean look at Cain before jumping down from the bed and leaving the room. Cain sat in the now quiet room, looking at the final piece of rabbit meat resting on her lap.

“Have some,” she pushed it toward Cain. He bit into the warm tender meat, the delicious juices filling his mouth.

“Now let mommy get some sleep. And hopefully I’ll feel all better in the morning,” she said, rubbing his earlobe. Cain hugged her around her neck and carefully rolled off the bed, blew out the oil lamp, and left the room.

Cain lay under his blankets for a long time in the dark, trying not to think about all the fun things he would do if his mom got out of bed in the morning.

Cain woke suddenly in the dark to the sound of a long painful moan. He lay under the blanket in the dark, hoping he had dreamed it. Then he heard the unmistakeable sound of his mom throwing up on the other side of the wall. He felt a sickening twist in his gut.

Dad said it was a healing fruit. Dad said it was a healing fruit. Dad said it was a healing fruit. He repeated trying to imagine those words coming out of his dad’s mouth. But the more he tried to convince himself the less sure he felt. He put his head under his blanket and pretended to be asleep.

Then he heard his father shout, “Cain!” He knew that voice. He remembered his father’s anger after the snake bit Eve. Don’t let it happen again, his dad had said, his fists balled up.

Cain threw back the blankets, crawled across the floor, and climbed out the window into the darkness. His shoulder landed hard on a rock. And for a moment he lay in the long dry grass, his arm throbbing. Then he heard his mother shout in pain and retch again. Cain forced himself to roll over and crawl. He crawled over sharp weeds that stung his hands and rocks that scraped his bare feet.

“Abel! Go find your brother!” Adam’s voice cut through the dark.

“Cain!” his brother shouted. Cain crawled to the far end of the garden and then took to the path and finally hid himself under the berry bush. He lay in the dark, quietly gulping air. Again, he heard his mom shout in pain and his mind flooded with memories of the night Seth was born. The midwife running back and forth with water and bloody sheets. Cain pulled his knees to his chest and held his breath.

“Cain! Where are you?” Abel yelled, his voice coming closer. “Dad needs to talk to you right now!” Then he saw Abel’s small muddy feet through the bushes. “I know you are in there, Cain. So just come out now!”

“Why?” Cain said through stifled tears.

Abel got down on his hands and knees, his eyes level with Cain’s. “Because you made mom sick!” Abel insisted.

“Dad said it was a healing fruit,” Cain said weakly.

“You’re supposed to feed fruit to the goats first, you idiot!” Abel scoffed as he poked a wooden arrow into the bush. The sharpened point dug into Cain’s shoulder. He angrily crawled out of the bush and stood up.

“Stop it!” Cain clenched his fist as he glared down at his younger brother.

“You stop it!” Abel said, poking Cain in the chest with the arrow. “You’re the one that made mom sick! I told dad not to take you! You mess everything up!” Abel shouted, whipping Cain in the arm.

Cain felt anger boiling up inside him. Abel had told their dad not to invite him. How many times had Cain been left at home because of Abel. Abel was big enough to milk cows and pick berries. Abel was old enough to change Seth’s dirty clothes. Abel could be helping. He should be helping.

Then Cain heard their mom throw up and his anger was split with fear.

“Maybe . . . maybe . . . maybe it was your rabbit meat!” Cain said digging his finger hard into Abel’s chest.

He heard his father’s voice shout, “Cain, get in here!”

“Everyone ate the rabbit!” Abel shouted, swinging the arrow at Cain’s shoulder. But Cain was ready for it and he blocked the arrow with his forearm. Then he punched Abel right in the face. Hard. Harder than he meant to. Abel’s head jerked back and he fell into the grass.

Cain looked down at his brother. In the glow of the yellow moon, he saw Abel lying silent and crooked at his feet, his hair matted with blood. Abel’s head had hit a rock hidden in the grass.

Cain shook his brother’s limp shoulders. “Abel. Abel,” he whispered frantically. Cain tried to wipe the blood off his pale face. “Abel, please wake up, wake up, wake up.” Cain sat down and lifted his brother’s head onto his lap.

“Help,” he said, barely above a whisper. He took a few deep breaths and then shouted, “Dad, help!” Cain’s shout woke up the night. The cows started mooing and wild dogs in the distance began frantically barking.

Abel opened his eyes. Then Abel touched his face and saw his small fingers covered in blood. He shrieked. “Dad!”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cain said, crying tears of relief. “It’s gonna be okay.” Suddenly Abel’s body was illuminated with warm light. Their father stood over the two boys holding a blazing torch. Cain looked up at his father’s serious face.

“What happened?” Adam demanded.

Cain looked down at his brother who was screaming and crying. “I . . . I . . .” Adam crouched down and rubbed blood away from Abel’s eyes.

“What happened, Abel,” Adam asked again, this time his voice softer.

“A snake!” Cain said before Abel could answer. The lie came tumbling out of his mouth. “Abel came to find me. And . . . and a snake . . . a huge snake snapped at Abel and he fell and . . . and . . . and then he hit his head.”

Adam stood up and swung the torch around. “Take your brother inside.”

Cain helped his sobbing brother to his feet, unable to look up at his father.

“And after you wrap his head, go get more water for your mother. She is having a terrible time passing that fruit you gave her,” Adam said with a cold anger.

Cain nodded and walked him back into the house. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his father swing the torch through the long brown grass.

Inside he lifted Abel up onto a chair. His brother’s legs kicked wildly as he wrapped Abel’s bleeding head in long strips of cloth. Cain winced as he heard his mother moaning in pain from her bedroom.

When he finished wrapping the bandages, Cain put his hands on his crying brother’s shoulders. “All done.”

Abel felt the bandages on the back of his head and checked his fingers for blood. When he was sure he had stopped bleeding, Abel sniffed back his tears and hugged Cain.

Cain felt Abel’s small arms wrapped tightly around his chest. It had been a long time since Abel hugged him. He forced a smile. “Go lie down, and I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

“What happened to your brother?” his mom called.

He took a deep breath and walked into her mom’s bedroom. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and vomit.

“A snake tried to bite him, and he fell and hit his head,” Cain said, looking down at a bowl of green vomit on the floor beside her bed. The last remains of the fruit were now reduced to a disgusting pulp.

“Is he gonna be okay?” she asked. Her head was pale and sweating. The blanket flecked with green bile.

“I wrapped his head,” Cain said, climbing on the bed. He felt her sweaty fingers rub his earlobe. His body relaxed. He lay beside her watching through the window as the fire blazed in the grass. He saw illuminated shapes bucking and braying. The cows and goat tied up along the fence. Then he heard her stomach give a long painful-sounding growl.

“I’m sorry I made you sick,” Cain said as the tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the blanket.

“Don’t worry,” she sighed. “It was probably the rabbit meat.” The smoke began to blow in through the window and stung Cain’s eyes.

“Your father should have never let the grass get so long,” Eve whispered as she rubbed Cain’s earlobe in the dark.