sunkissed, worldless

05

"Why are we going back downstairs?" Olivia asks sorely.

"Because it's a second Tuesday."

Olivia frowns like she's making sure it's a Tuesday, but there's never really a way to tell, not until someone crosses it out on a paper calendar that isn't printed for the year they're in. Because nothing has been printed in a while. So she shoves her hands in her mom jeans as she skipped down the stairs and Adele watches warily from her hand on the banister.

Adele drops a coupon into the donation box, when she forgot to do it when they first came in. "We can help with the cooking," if they needed anymore compensation for the stay.

Anna glances outside. "I think they already started."

Adele nods and leads them out to the park, Olivia balancing on the faded white lines that divided the roads. She falls off course a couple times, overcompensating by skewing her shoes sideways instead of taking it head on. Adele looks back, waits for her to catch up then continues walking alongside.

As they approach the site, where smoke drifts up and smells of stir fry, the char of caramelization and slow cooked pots bubbling.

Adele leans in. "Follow my lead."

"Obviously," she says, "I'm a disaster."

They approach one of the three women working gigantic woks sitting above an open fire and an even bigger wooden paddle to stir its contents, so far onions and garlic in a skim of oil. And after immediately taking in the company, the two of them stare down at the softened golden brown base of the stew as she adds a vegetable that vaguely looks like a cucumber, but isn't.

"They're courgettes," the woman informs them.

Her and Olivia's simultaneous response was, "Ohhhh." Even though she knows neither of them actually have a clue to what a courgette was.

Adele has long passed the paddle to Olivia who stirs diligently as the brew simmers, but it leaves her empty handed and helpless by her side. The stew itself grows heavy.

"What are you doing sweetie?" A stout lady in an apron stops by their station, glances them up and down. She's the same one who's been running up and down chopping and passing ingredients, and they avoided her gaze out of sheer anxiety being told they're doing something wrong.

Neither of them really had an answer to that, but they don't need one.

"The pot only needs one of you to stir," she continues, looks straight at Adele and she tries not to sweat. "You, you can come with me."

She grabs her wrist and Adele could only mouth, "You'll be fine," before she's dragged away to the other side of the kitchen to deal with the incoming supply of fish from the Pier.

—

The moon is awake and the grass has been long overgrown but it never seems to get any taller than their knees. Or maybe it's because they've been growing alongside it fast enough not to notice. She sees the figure, darkness settled around their shoulders, wisp up their hair almost to carry with it to the stars.

"What are we doing out here?" she says, loud enough in the background of chirruping crickets. It's a school night. Or, back when they tried to keep school going before exams went nowhere and the teachers left town.

It's been easy to skim through subjects, and become overtaken by night. She misses school sometimes, then thinks she might be crazy for it.

"Shh." Olivia says this while the grass rustles beneath her shoes so her attempt at being vague and mysterious doesn't work for her. There's a bottle in her hand and Adele puts two and two together.