Broken City

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

The day passes quickly—so fast in fact that I have no time for my thoughts but instead seem to be in some strange rhythm that makes me unaware of time and work. Although we have been told to strip the place in reality there is little that could be termed moveable goods; sure there is plenty that we could re use but no way of transporting them all the way to Marshall Territory. I meet Ralph for the first time today in the stairwell, Jan and I are taking a load down to the ground floor when I hear fast footsteps behind us.

“Hello ladies, need a hand?” he asks juggling the bags and boxes he’s carrying until he has room to take a back breakingly heavy suitcase from my unresisting hand. I notice with some asperity as we move on that although the weight of that bag had hampered my progress greatly, it doesn’t seem to impede Ralph at all.

“Only one?” asks Jan breathlessly, “I could do with six or seven extra hands!”

“Where have you been, Ralph?” I ask shifting a box from one arm to the other.

“I went up to help Mr. and Mrs. Green, Jamie had to go with Tom so he asked me to keep an eye on them, and then I spent more time than I care to think about knocking every scrap of wood I could lay my hands on into carts to carry what movable goods we possess to the Marshall compound.”

“Will there be enough room for everything?”

“Probably not half as many as we could use but enough to make do—the biggest problem will be provisions, not just for ourselves but also for the animals.”

Something in his voice tells me that he doesn’t think that to be our biggest problem at all. We reach the ground floor and I’m startled to see through the iron slats across the windows the darkness of the sky outside.

“What time is it?” I wonder aloud in surprised.

“Long past dinner time, at least that’s what my stomach is telling me—might not be reliable though as I didn’t have lunch.”

“None of us did you big ox!” laughs Jan giving Ralph a playful shove.

I look around us, everywhere there are parcels, boxes and crates, some of the larger items have been packed into the waiting carts already but I know that we will have to carry much of the smaller stuff.

“We should be finished soon I think,” Ralph says placing our things neatly into a nearby cart.

“What do you think we’ll do about dinner, Deet?” asks Jan wearily as she sits on top of a suitcase and twists a curl around her finger.

“I did quite a bit of cooking yesterday; we should have plenty to share round.

“How far round?” asks Ralph anxiously.

“I suppose there might be a few scraps left over for you,” Jan responds.

~~~~~~~~

Our apartments seem strangely full when I think in just a little while we will leave it: the battered sofa and arm chair are still in their proper places around the edge of the threadbare blue rug, the coffee table with the varnish flaking off is still stationed in the centre of the room.

Ralph has gone to tell my father and the other elders of the tribe that Jan and I are preparing refreshment and we expect them almost immediately. Apart from all I made yesterday we cook everything that is left in our store room.

“I wonder what the Marshalls will be like, do you think they’ll welcome us Deeta?” ask Jan as she prepares naam bread.

She has caught her hair up into a quick bun and loose curls have escaped their confines falling in delicate ringlets over her face and neck. I notice that she has a smudge of flour over one cheek.