“You think we should leave?”
Mr. Grey’s voice conveys his complete and utter incredulity.
“We don’t have a choice, Malcolm. Tom says that they will come for him and Professor Jepsjon, and that there will be trouble for us whether they are here or not. Considering what happened last time, I can see why we wouldn’t want to be around when they arrive.”
“Last time they came the collateral damage was very low; they were obviously trying to keep injury to a minimum. Next time they won’t have the same consideration.” Tom is leaning against the wall, his face in shadow as he speaks.
“I don’t think that Deeta thought the damage all that low,” remarks Ralph drily.
“Her thoughts on the matter are immaterial.” Tom interrupts. “The point is that we must leave here. You don’t seem to understand that there is no decision to be made, only action to be taken.”
“But we can’t leave our home; we’ll have to leave our possessions… all that we have…”
“On the plus side you won’t be dead,” interrupts Tom impatiently.
“Where will we go?”
“You already know the answer to that question, Jamie, there’s only one place we can go.”
“Then the answer is no! I can’t believe that you’re actually suggesting that we hand ourselves over to those blood suckers!”
“Then what do you suggest?” asks Tom. “You know we can’t stay here and fight the Andak.”
“And you know what will happen to our tribe if we join the Marshalls; do you want to see Ricky in the Guard?”
“No I don’t, but I’d rather that than see an Andak soldier put a bullet through him. Jamie, if we succeed in getting Keya and Dec back, where do you think is the first place that they’ll look for us?”
“You know that the Marshalls are not to be trusted.”
“Maybe we should try to find another place, set up another compound…” begins Mr. Clark.
“There isn’t any time for that, we have to move quickly. Do you think I would suggest the Marshalls if there was any other way?” Tom sits down and spreads his hands out in front of him. “Say for arguments sake that we had enough time to set up another location and move the tribe there. The Andak would find us, and believe me when I tell you that it wouldn’t take them long. We need the Marshalls themselves as much as we need the shelter that they can provide us with. Don’t you see? We need their protection.”
“You think that the Andak will follow us?” asks Jamie, suddenly alert.
“Yes, they’ll follow us.”
“And you think with the Marshalls on our side we have a better chance at winning?” Ralph’s voice is thoughtful.
“A better chance, yes, but still a hopeless one,” answers Tom.
“Then I’m sorry, but I don’t see the point of your plan; we might as well stay here.”
“My point is this: we move to the Marshall compound and the safety they afford. They’re a big tribe, Jamie, so it will take some time for the Andak to organise an attack. Hopefully it will give me enough time to get home and figure this out.”
There is silence after Tom has spoken, and the air is heavy with his words and their meaning.
“Home, Tom?” asks Jamie quietly.
“I’m Andak, Jamie. Like it or not that’s who I am, and the Andak compound is my home.”
“I don’t understand; you live with us, not them. Won’t they think it’s a little strange when you turn up?”
“We have an understanding.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
The atmosphere in the room becomes uncomfortable, but Tom doesn’t seem effected by it.
“There’s no choice, Jamie. I know it’s hard to accept, but there just isn’t.” Tom looks around the room at all those gathered. “Don’t you think it’s time we stopped pretending that there is?”
-------
Deeta
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I find myself being shaken awake by Jan. She tells me, in a peremptory manner, that it’s six o’clock and that Dad is still not home.
I know that, true to his word, Tom will be on his way to Marshall territory by now.
“You might have woken me last night, and told me what was happening!”
Jan’s voice is faintly reproving, and looking at her face I see she is taut with excitement. I snuggle down beneath the covers, luxuriating in their warmth.
“If I had it would have been two of us who couldn’t sleep.”
Jan raises an eyebrow, the action giving her face something of an insolent cast.
“You didn’t seem to be having too much trouble, Deet,” she remarks drily.
I sit up in bed, stretching my arms above my head.
“What a day to choose to be shattered,” I mutter sleepily, holding the cold chain of my locket away from the warmth of my skin.
“A nice cold wash is what you want; it’ll revitalise you,” prescribes Jan.
“Or finish me off.” I take another look at her through half closed eyes. “I bet you didn’t.”
“I can’t imagine a more ghastly way to start the day, getting up is bad enough. No, I washed in warm water and, because I’m such a loving sister, I saved some for you. You realise that you’re so lucky to have me, don’t you?” She stands up. “If you get up, I’ll go and fetch it for you.”
By the time she returns I’ve not only managed to drag myself out of bed, but I’ve begun sorting all our necessary possessions into a neat pile, one on each bed. I wash and dress as quickly as I can. Within a remarkably short space of time we have packed the few items that could conceivably be called necessities, into two bundles.
Our mother enters the room, her face creased into a worried frown. For a moment her glance takes in the bundles on the bed, and a soft smile spreads over her face. She sags against the door frame in relief.
“Bless you, girls. I never thought you’d be finished, or that you’d have taken just the barest minimum.”
For a moment I think she might cry, but she pulls herself upright and beckons us into the kitchen. Clare is standing in the middle of a hopeless disarray of utensils, pots, and pans, holding a mixing bowl and looking very lost.
Despite the fact that we can only take a little, it takes us a long time to decide just what that little should be. Finally the kitchen is finished, and the few things we have decided to take are parcelled up neatly.
“What else; it’s not like we can take the beds or the sofas.”
My mother sits on a chair and pushes her fringe back from her face.
“We have no way of transporting anything that big. Your father said we could take a few necessary personal items, a few things from the kitchen, and as many blankets, cushions, and pillows as we have. Most of the room will be taken up by stores and plants. At least the bigger animals can help with the load.”
In the end it’s kind of pathetic; a small mound of belongings piled in the middle of the room is all we will take of this place. We leave our apartments to go and help where ever we can. Clare goes up to help Philip and his family, and mother goes down to help Nella’s Aunt Leah. Jan and I go up to the Jepsjons apartment to help Uncle Jep.
There is no reply to our knock, and so we push open the door.
Ricky is parcelling up the things from the kitchen. Carris brings piles of clothing and blankets from the bedrooms for Roydon to sort through and place in bundles.
Uncle Jep and Tarri are sorting through the chest.
Now to me that chest is very dear. It contains children’s clothes in all ages, girl and boy that, starting with Ricky, all the Jepsjon children have worn. Mother and I, along with Jan and Clare, made every item.
The movement of the door catches Ricky’s attention, and he looks up quickly.
“Aunty Deet!”
I feel a thrill of pleasure at the joy in his voice.
“Isn’t it exciting, Aunty Deet? We’re going to move to a different compound. Uncle Tom says th
at there will be lots of other people there!” Carris has run forward to clasp my hand, and I notice that her fingers tremble with eagerness.
“It’s definitely an adventure, Carry.”
I turn to look at the neat piles of oddments that cover the room. I’d thought to find the Jepsjons in a bit of a pickle without me here to help. Now I see that, aside from being rather vain, it was also pretty foolish of me. If there is one outstanding thing about both Uncle Jep and Tom, it’s their organisation skills. No one who had been raised by them could help but be organised too.
“Deeta, Jan, how pleasant to see you.” Uncle Jep leans on the arm of a chair and hauls himself to his feet. “I hope I am correct in thinking you have come to help, because assistance would be more than welcome?” He brushes a large handkerchief over his face, and Jan places her hand on his arm.
“Sit down, Uncle Jep; first things first — I’ll make you a drink.”
Professor Jepsjon smiles and pats her cheek.
“You too are a precious gift, Jan.”
When she is gone I kneel and pull some clothes from the chest.
“What have you decided to do with them, Uncle Jep?”
“I’m not sure; we may have need of them yet,” he smiles. “You and Jan are very similar, in all the things that matter anyway, Clare too.”
“Uncle Jep! I’m nothing like either of my sisters; Jan’s clever and restless, and Clare’s so self possessed. Mum says I’m still a little girl at heart.”
“You are all similar, don’t contradict, you know I don’t like it!” laughs Uncle Jep. “I said in the things that matter: you all understand that tea should be available in large quantities throughout the day. Not that I disagree with your mother; Clare was made to grace a palace, and Jan to turn some poor man’s hair grey with her teasing…” Uncle Jep breaks off and strokes his beard.
“You’ll give me a complex, Uncle Jep,” I laugh. “What about me?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me!”
Uncle Jep is silent for some moments, looking somewhere into the half distance.
“I don’t know, Deetina.” He states simply. “You have been so sheltered, more so even than your sisters. You know nothing of life or of people, in truth I think both scare you. You have little experience of anything but Tom, and I, and the children. You carved out a niche for yourself with us, somewhere you were comfortable and safe. With each passing day I have watched you close yourself off from all that is new, until it becomes impossible to answer the question of who you are, because you do not know yourself. I think that you have courage and that you are resourceful, maybe you are brave. Yet at this moment I see you look at upheaval and adventure with fright in your soul, so that you see only the bad and no good at all.”
I wish I could deny it, tell you he’s wrong, that I’m just content with what I have, not too scared to try for anything more. But I can’t lie to you can I? I know you’d see straight through it, straight through me.
I’ve always been scared. Not of anything in particular: I don’t want you thinking I’ve been mistreated or anything. Nothing terrible has ever happened to me. It’s kind of hard to explain. I’m not exactly afraid of the things that might happen, but more of how I might react to the things that might happen. Does that make any sense to you?
I guess that makes me scared of myself, doesn’t it? That’s kind of pathetic, I know, you don’t have to tell me.
It’s just that if I plod along, I’ll never know, never have to face the truth. I can kid myself that I could be just like Nella, that if push came to shove I wouldn’t just crumble under the pressure. But if I try and don’t succeed then I’ll know for sure. Could I live with that?
Could I live with knowing that I’m spineless? That I’m the first out of the door if there’s the merest hint of trouble?
It’s the untold horrors that I’m afraid of. What are they? How bad must they be, that they are always ‘untold’? Ever since I can remember, people have told me that the world outside the compound is an evil and dangerous place, a place that will hurt me. The inevitable question is how, and yet it is the only question that remains unanswered, because everything is always ‘untold’.
Now suddenly, after a life of indoctrination against the evils of the outside world, I’m being asked to gleefully dive head first into them. Is it any wonder that I’m confused? That I’m filled with fear and sickening dread?
“Deetina?” Uncle Jep leans forwards to clasp both of my hands in his. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; if I have I am most truly sorry. I do not censure you for your actions; you have been more than kind to me, and the children, and Tom. You have given of the bounty of your heart, and believe me when I tell you that it has made me love you as my own child.” He pauses, passing his arm around my shoulder. “It is only that what I see of you I love, so that I am eager to see that which is as of yet unawakened within you.”
“What have you done with all the cups, Ricky?”
Jan sticks her head through the door that leads into the kitchen.
“On the table.”
Ricky’s deft hands are busy with another parcel, and he doesn’t look up as he speaks.
“I think perhaps it would be best to take these things, don’t you, Deetina?” Uncle Jep’s voice is questioning, but I know the actual question that he is asking has remained unspoken.
“Yes, Uncle Jep, I think so too.”