9. CHAPTER 9
I can’t stop shivering.
I can’t feel my fingers.
What’s that?
What’s touching me?
There’s a weight on my forehead.
I push it away.
I hear a door close.
Why is it so hot?
Blinking, I open my eyes to the large, pot belly stove in the cabin.
I quickly sit up, but dizziness overwhelms me.
After several seconds it dies down, and I look around me. I can’t see Eden. Not in the kitchen. Not in the loft.
Looking down, I see his quilt wrapped around me.
I don’t know what compels me to do it, but I grab a handful and bring it to my nose. It smells of fabric softener. Fresh, but not floral. Masculine, somehow.
Dropping it again, I study my hands. My fingers are still red, they itch and tingle when I clench them, but they aren’t numb and they don’t hurt.
Remembering how Eden had undressed me, I reach beneath the quilt to feel for my underwear. It’s still there.
There’s a fresh bottle of water with the same orange tint to it as the electrolyte one he made for me yesterday. Taking it, I drink the entire thing like it’s a mirage and I’ve been wandering in the desert for days.
On the slate tiles beneath the stove is a mug.
Is that for me too?
Why else would it be warming there?
The mug is hot, but not so bad I can’t hold it.
It’s a cream of chicken Cup-a-Soup. My mother used to give the same one to me when I was sick in a pinch when she didn’t have time to make juk.
The memories of home make my nose tingle and I bite the tip of my tongue to distract myself from crying because I’m not supposed to be missing it.
I shouldn't be thinking about how sweet my parents can be, or at least how sweet they were when I was young. When I still did as I was told, like a good boy. When living between two cultures didn’t tear at me.
Standing, I remain in front of the stove while I sip at the soup.
My clothes are hanging on the drying rack I had at the lake, but they are still dirty.
This man makes no sense to me.
Surely he could have taken just a little of the water he brought back with him to give them a quick wash. I know he’ll be having a shower with it tonight. A hot one. Something I’ve not had since being here. A washcloth and water heated on the stove is all I’ve had the luxury of.
But still, it’s not home.
Eden is the one doing me a favor, not the other way around.
Leaving the stove side, I look out the back window and see him in the distance, well into the tree line. Leaning on the back of the couch, I notice a wooden awning beneath the window that hadn’t been there when we left this morning.
I guess that means he made a trip inside my shack to get some more of the wood stacked in the beams. And I guess that also means there’ll be more dust in my bed.
After taking another sip of the soup, I put the mug on the dining table and head to the opposite side of the cabin.
There’s a moderately sized flat screen on the wall, and a long, low cabinet beneath it.
I'd been so terrified of Eden catching me yesterday snooping inside it instead of cleaning, but today I care a whole lot less.
Behind the first doors are piles of DVDs, maybe thirty on each side. The middle is stocked with board games, Uno, and packs of cards. The last holds a PlayStation 3 with a stack of games.
At least Eden will be occupied when the weather sets in.
I wonder if he'll let me charge my computer? It’s the least he can do.
Huh, I smirk to myself. Absolutely nothing, is the least he can do.
Figuring I probably shouldn’t be walking around in only a pair of boxer briefs, I close the cupboard and head to the clothes rack.
My charcoal sweatpants are so toasty and warm that I hug them to my face as well, but pull them away just as quickly when they don’t have the same comforting scent as Eden’s quilt.
After pulling them on, and still equally as annoyed, I bundle up the quilt in my arms and throw it up onto his mattress—instantly regretting my decision as it half hangs off the banister.
Climbing the stairs midway, I pull it back down and fold it properly before reaching up to place it neatly on the end of his bed.
Back down again, I take the tub full of the washed pillow cases and dig to the bottom to find the sofa covers. They aren’t the nicest ones in the world but they are a far cry from the hideous corduroy that might just have more tears in its seams than the clothes Eden’s been wearing.
After dragging the left side of the sofa back into place, I take the first pillow from the stack on the small dining table, and put its cover back on while watching Eden.
He’s closer to the cabin now, moving from tree to tree, feeling their bark and looking each up and down.
After spending longer on one than the others, he walks towards the shack, and I duck out of view. The shack door slams closed, and I crawl towards the sofa; resting my elbows on the cushions, ready to peek back outside. And when I do, I see the axe in Eden’s hand.
Surely he’s not…
Pulling the axe back he swings it against the trunk of the tree.
Oh, hell no!
I don’t know much about nature, but environmental law was one of my prerequisite classes, and I know he can’t cut down any of these trees without a permit.
“Hey!” I yell, running for the door.
I’m already at the back of the cabin by the time I hear the screen close behind me.
“Do you have a permit?”
Mid swing, Eden stops, and looks over his shoulder at me. “Get back inside.”
“Do you have a permit for that?”
“Do you have a death wish?”
"You know it's illegal to cut that down if you don't have one?"
Axe in hand, Eden marches forward and pushes me back towards the cabin.
“It could be endangered,” I tell him.
“It’s a red alder.”
“That’s beyond the point.”
“What’s beyond the point, is that you almost lost your toes and you’re outside, half-naked, with no shoes on!”
“You didn’t care when you threw me in the lake.”
“You’re the dumb fuck who put wet clothes back on.”
“You left me there!” I scream at him, and push him as hard as I can in the chest. “For all you knew, I could have been dead by the time you picked me up.”
He tilts his head to the side. “So what you’re saying is that I actually saved your life?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Why didn't you…” I ball my hands into fists. “I should be in the hospital right now?”
“Where you should be, is back inside the cabin.”
“Don’t pretend like you give a shit.”
“I called HealthDirect. And I’ve been checking on you every thirty minutes. I was literally just in there.”
“Oh, wow,” I scoff in his face. “A bottle of water and a sachet of soup. That’ll make up for all the shit you’ve put me through.”
“Don’t forget who’s helping who.” His finger digs into my bare chest.
“Yeah, me! I’ve done everything you've asked since getting here.”
“And complained about it the whole goddamn time.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
“Fine. You either go out of your way to push my buttons, or you're a glorified fuck doll that gets the job done and gives nothing in return.”
I know it’s a bad decision even before I start moving, but I’ve got the rage of a giant and the delusion of a chihuahua as I wind up and send my fist flying at Eden.
I know he’s mocking me when he dusts his fingers over his cheek like he’s brushing away a fly. And I know I’ll never stop paying for it as his fist sends me to the ground.
It's so quick I can’t even brace myself; it’s straight out flat—head thumping against the hard ground.
I’ve never felt pain like this before.
I’m not sure if I can even move.
There’s no blue left in the sky now.
I should go back inside.
It’s cold out here.
I don’t want to get sick.
Where is Tek’s jacket?
I need my shoes.
Why am I…
I roll onto my side, but as soon as I sit up, a tan work boot kicks me back down. “You ready for round two?”
“I just…” I squeeze my eyes shut because my face feels like Eden is pounding at it again and again with his hammer. “...inside.”
“Fine by me.” The same fist that just knocked me down is in my hair, pulling me along the grass.
Instantly, my hands are clawing at it while my feet try to gain purchase. “Ow! Stop, please!”
“Your chances are up, you ungrateful fuck.” Eden flings the shack door open and throws me inside.
I skid along the old and splintering wood until I hit the hearth beneath the stove.
“I don’t want to have to look at you anymore.
” The door slams, and the building shakes around me.
Dirt falls from the roof and beams onto my skin.
I'm really screwed now.
I hurt my own hand more than I hurt him. And for what? A tree?
A fucking red alder?
Why did I think that was a battle that was worth fighting?
We’re off-grid in the middle of nowhere, six miles down a dirt track.
The door is thrown back open, and my clothes are flung at me.
Eden stands tall in the doorway, his body nearly taking up the whole thing. Reaching into his pocket, he takes out a box of matches and throws them at my feet.
“Do not give me the displeasure of having to look at you again.”
“I’m sorry, Eden. I shouldn't have—”
“I just don’t care anymore,” he says with a sigh; his voice lacking any emotion. “The deal is off. If you’re stupid enough to still stay here, do it on your own. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to hear you. I don’t want to know you exist. As far as I’m concerned, you did die at the lake.”
This time when the door slams, I flinch.
This time, I feel it in my bones.