Page 42 of Juniper Unraveling

Six slides his hand into mine and squeezes, as if to say thank you.

It’s strange how in such a short time, I understand him better than Papa.

* * *

Frustration pulses through me as I take a bowl of the snake meat and some vegetables, with a glass of water, out to the pole barn. Using blankets from the house, I arranged a makeshift bed for Six and gave him my pillow, the one he slept with the night before. The machinery stored toward the back gives off a strong metallic scent, much like Six did the night before, when I first brought him here. Now he smells like Papa’s cedar wood soap and mint.

He accepts the food, and I sit beside him, watching him eat.

His eyes are set beyond me, and I follow the path of his gaze toward the open door, where over in the house, Papa’s silhouette can be seen behind the curtain as he stands waiting for me.

With a huff, I twist back around to Six, wishing I could somehow convince Papa to let him stay inside. There’s a guest room that he’s used to store vaccines, and such, and it could easily fit the bed I’ve made from old blankets and sheets that probably wreak like mothballs.

“Will you be okay out here?”

Six nods, gulping down the proffered meat, which he washes down with a sip of water.

“I hate him for making you sleep out here, but I’ll work on him. Maybe he’ll eventually let you back in the house.”

As usual, Six says nothing in response, and particularly now, I wish he would talk. I’ve accepted his silence up until this point, learning his emotions through his actions, but a part of me fears that I’ll wake in the morning, and he’ll be gone. I wish I knew whether, or not, Papa’s words had affected him so much that he’d abandon me to appease the grumpy old man.

“He thinks you’re dangerous. He’s scared you might hurt me.”

Pausing, Six scowls and shakes his head. He cups my face and strokes his thumb gently across my cheek, before pushing my hair back behind my ear.

“You wouldn’t hurt me. I know that.” I know that he has some strange ability to heal, and that his reflexes aren’t exactly what I’d call normal, but Six isn’t a danger to me. “Do you remember your home? Where you came from?”

He shakes his head, spooning a heaping mound of vegetables into his mouth, and part of me is relieved by his response.

I won’t ask about his family again and risk that he’ll take off, like before. “So, you’ve nowhere to go. And you can’t remember your name.”

Staring somewhere beyond me, he sits as if in contemplation for a moment, then shakes his head a second time.

“Then, you’ll just have to stay here. Papa will just have to accept you here. I’m not sending you back to that place, Six. I won’t.”

Once he finishes his meal, I take the empty bowl from his hands, and his fingers brush mine, just as they did that day back at the wall. And just as before, his touch disarms me.

I push up from the barn floor, catching another glimpse of Papa, still waiting for me at the window.

“Goodnight, Six,” I say, leaving him there.

Just doesn’t feel right to me, treating him like an animal, left outside, and as I close the door of the pole barn behind me, I can’t bring myself to look back at him.

* * *

Darkness settles over the house, and when I wake, the moon is high in the sky. Sitting up from my bed, I listen for Papa’s heavy breathing, catching the cusp of a snore that tells me he’s fast asleep. At the wheezes that bleed through the wall, I slip out of bed, and into the shoes I tucked beneath. I didn’t bother changing into bedclothes, either.

Padding across the floor, I stand in front of the window, looking out over the expanse of the yard, where the pole barn sits in complete blackness, and slide the window open. A cool evening breeze wafts across my face, as I climb out onto the slope of the roof. Before I reach the gutter, I leap over the edge, dropping to a roll as I’ve done a number of times before.

Shaking off the tingle of pain in my shin, I limp across the yard until I reach the door of the pole barn. Muffled sounds from inside spike my curiosity, and I crack open the door to peek into the dark room. Moon’s light shines in through the window adjacent to Six’s bed, and I slip inside.

Curled on the floor, Six writhes and twitches in his sleep. The quiet grunts and moans reach my ear, as I pad across the pole barn and kneel at his side.

I reach out to stroke his arm.

Cold concrete cracks against my back, knocking the wind from my lungs. Pain rockets up my spine, and I gasp for breath. Pressure at my throat intensifies with the throttling at my neck. Circles float in front of me as I stare up at Six, whose eyes are crazed, pupils dilated like a feral animal. Whatever he sees behind those eyes, it isn’t me.

My chest sputters a cough, and I suck in a breath, squinting my eyes to push away the floating objects.