Savages

17: Too Real

Judit was holding an aluminium pan at arm's length, squinting at her reflection in its shiny bottom, when she heard Sannah come in. She dropped the pan with a clatter and hurriedly zipped up her coat.

Sannah stomped in, looking like a rat had just eaten her breakfast.

"What's with you?"

"What? Oh. Nothing. I mean, we're going. We're going to Albia. It's decided. I'm just going to pack."

She went straight over the cupboards by her bed, started pulling out clothes busily.

"Today?" Judit had known it was coming eventually, but she was still surprised, and a little scared. She suddenly didn't want Sannah to go. Especially if... especially if nothing. She was being stupid. It was nothing.

"No," Sannah said, her head in the cupboard. "But tomorrow, maybe. Weather allowing. Deera's coming too."

"Oh yeah?" Judit sat down on the bench heavily. "You don't seem very... happy about it. About going."

"It's not that." Sannah pulled her head out of the cupboard and looked at Judit, kneeling on the floor. "I just had a thrash with Merle. It hurled me out, that's all."

"You did? What did you do?"

"It was about Brock," Sannah said, and Judit tensed. "Did you know he has genetic problems?"

"He doesn't have genetic problems," Judit said hotly. "His parents do. That doesn't mean he does."

"Umm... yeah. I suppose," Sannah replied, her tone suggesting she did not agree with that assertion. "Did you know?"

Judit hesitated, not sure if she should answer. Brock's Judit, The Perfect Girl, didn't tell his secrets. It was only Sannah, though.

"Yeah," she said. "He had two brothers that died when they were babies. I think... I think that's why he's worried about Lintie's baby."

Even saying the phrase Lintie's baby sent a shot of broiling jealousy through Judit's stomach. She rubbed her belly, as if it were her and not Lintie, as if her own little wishful-thinking phantom Brock baby was in there, and it was her that got to be with him, not Lintie. Okay, Perfect Girl would NOT do that. I'm literally crazy.

"And his sister," she added. "His sister was disabled."

"That's awful. I feel so bad about it," Sannah said.

"It's not your fault." Judit shrugged, pushing her hands between her knees. "Besides, it doesn't mean Brock's baby won't be fine. Brock's perfect. There's nothing wrong with him at all. He's perfect."

For some reason Judit felt like any aspersion on Brock's health was an aspersion on him personally, and she was angry at Sannah for criticising him.

"Um, yeah," Sannah said doubtfully. "I suppose."

"He looked after his sister a lot, did you know that?" Judit went on, wanting to make up for Sannah's critical words, her doubtful expression. "Because his dad wasn't around, and his mum really struggled. Isn't that nice? It's so nice. He's so nice."

"It is nice," Sannah conceded. "Must have been hard."

"Yeah," Judit said triumphantly. "He had to put her on the toilet and everything. Not many young boys would do that. He's amazing."

Yeah, Sannah. Take that. He's not unhealthy. He's perfect.

Sannah turned back to the cupboard, carried on throwing things about, then said, "Got 'em!" triumphantly, pulling out a pair of extremely high stiletto platform heels.

"Dagging hell. I can see why you've not been wearing them out here," Judit observed, eyebrows shooting up.

"Yeah. But I'll need them for Albia."

Looking at the shoes made Judit think about the reality of what Sannah would have to do in Albia. Even though she'd said she was fine about it, right now it was kinda making her skin crawl. She realised she was rubbing her miracle-baby belly again, and sat on her hands.

Sannah put the shoes in her bag, and carried on sorting through the cupboards. Judit pushed the thought of the shoes out of her mind, and carried on thinking about Brock.

"She called them Brock," Judit said eventually. She'd actually been dying to tell someone this. She'd had to bite her tongue not to comment on it when Brock told her. "His mum. Them babies that died. Don't you think that's weird? That they all had the same name? It's so weird."

Sannah sat up again. "So, like, she had a baby, called it Brock, and it died? Then she had another one, and gave it the same name, then he died, and she did it again?"

"Yeah," Judit said. "Off spec or what?"

"That is weird." Sannah nodded. "Weird for him, surely?"

"Dunno." Judit pulled a face. "He didn't seem to even realise how off kilter it was."

Sannah picked up the bag, put it on her bed, and turned to face Judit.

"I didn't even realise you guys were friends," she said. "For him to have told you all this."

"Yeah. Well, we are." Judit felt herself blush. "It's no big deal. Get off my case."

"Okay, God," I didn't mean anything by it. Sannah lifted up her hands defensively. "It makes the whole baby thing pretty scary, though. I didn't realise all the Natives were so inbred."

"They're not," Judit said, even though they were. It felt like Sannah was attacking Brock again.

"Sorry. I didn't..." Sannah came over, sat by Judit. "Let's not fall out, just before I go."

She looped an arm over Judit's shoulder, and from nowhere, Judit found herself breaking down and crying.

"I'm sorry," she sniffed, burying her face in Sannah's scratchy woolly jumper. "I think... I'm scared about you going, Sannah. I'll miss you. I don't want you to go."

Sannah hugged her, and the sisters sat in silence, Judit sniffing into Sannah's wool.

"When did our problems start getting so adult?" Judit asked, without lifting her head.

"Tell me about it," Sannah said. "I couldn't wait to be a grown up, back at school. And now... being a grown up sucks."

"Especially when you're not actually a grown up." Judit gulped back her tears. She felt like terrifying demands and consequences were looming up, ready to attack her. Everything was just getting way too real.