Calluna

Chapter Twenty-One

The room is hot. No doubt due to the number of bodies. It's like a furnace turning on, each moment burning hotter. Sweat pours down my back, my face, my chest.

Eventually, the heat becomes too much, and I stand, no longer able to fool myself into thinking I can sleep. I sidestep Desta, Miya, and the small children, until I make it into the kitchen. I pour a glass of water and greedily drink it four times over. I instantly feel guilty for draining the pitcher of the only fresh drinking water they have. In only a few months, I've become accustomed to being given everything, clothes, food, water, attention. I've lost the sense of working for what I have.

I take the pitcher and head for the front door, only stopping for a moment to look back into the small living room. Miya is asleep peacefully, her head lying against Desta's chest. The other children, two girls, lie curled together, seeming to cling to each other even in sleep. Atreus's aunt had graciously offered her children's beds to the group of us to sleep in, but I couldn't accept with a clean conscience. This is their home; they're already doing so much for us. Talia and the golden triplets, however, had no such empathy or thankfulness and took the four youngest children's beds.

Outside, I fill the pitcher of water from the hand pump in the ground. The water overflows, so I drink it gluttonously. The cool night air rushes through my unbound hair and I can't remember the last time I felt so calm. Tired, yes. Hungry, definitely. But calm and content.

The dress Lillian stitched for me this afternoon waves in the slight wind and I don't stop it. She cut the dress I wore to the party a bit shorter, cutting off excess fabric in order to fashion a pair of pants for me as well. A gift, that girl is. I would have simply been stuck with my heavy, purple dress and its annoying scratchy sleeves if not for her.

A dog barks, causing my heart to stop momentarily. I have been sensitive to any loud noise since leaving the palace, but this one only reminds me more of my old village. The constant noise and bustle, yet at the same time calm.

The barking grows louder and doesn't cease. The dog runs towards me—a large thing with brown fur and big flopping ears—and tries to jump onto me and attack me with slippery kisses. I giggle, having to set the pitcher down on the porch steps in order to shower the dog with my attention.

"Well, hello there," I joke. "What's your name?"

Obviously, the dog can't answer, so I decide to give him a name myself. Floppy. Yes, that will be it.

Floppy runs around me a few hundred times, chasing his tail just to fall down on unsteady feet. He barks at me to play, much louder than before. I shush him.

"Floppy, come on now. You'll wake up the others."

I chase him away from the cottage. Everyone's had a long day. They deserve to sleep, not be woken up by a dog in the middle of the night.

The moon is out fully, fat and round, illuminating both Floppy and I as we run through the farmland, then into some sparse woods. It feels nice, almost freeing, as the wind rushes through my hair, the branches crunch under my bare feet. Down a hill, across a small stream, through a thick bush, back up the hill.

I'm laughing, and I don't even know why. Laughing and smiling and even dancing through the woods so freely, I nearly fall over my own two feet. I lose sight of Floppy, but I know he'll be back, so I don't fret.

Sighing through the crisp night air, I finally decide to head back to the cottage. Maybe I'll be able to get some sleep now. But as I walk, now fully awake and alert, I know I'm once again lying to myself.

I catch sight of the small cottage from the edge of the woods and lean against a small tree, trying to wipe the dirt off my bare feet. Beside me, lies a small spot of bright purple flowers, long and sparse, but still so beautiful. Calluna. Heather.