visible easing in her tension whenever his father had entered the room, whenever he had looked at her with adoration in his eyes, always completely unaware of the wrongs he had committed, always choosing to believe that one day he would be vindicated, that his version of events would be believed. She had loved him. She had seen him for what he was and she had not stopped loving him.
As he had tried to sleep, Silas had felt his aloneness, and he had wanted, more than anything, the warmth of another body beside him, someone to affirm his existence in the strangeness of this place. He had closed his eyes, only to start, visibly jerking as he had felt his body falling, and there was pure panic as he had wondered why he had come here and what he had to go back to.
Now, in the morning, the dryness of the heat was harsh on his back and shoulders and the emptiness crushed him. He glanced briefly at the ruin of the house next door andthen closed his eyes. For a moment, the possibility of going over there and lying down in the midst of its collapse crossed his mind. He would clear a small space in the rubble and filth and curl up. He shook his head and swiped, yet again, at the flies, his entire body agitated by the stillness at which he had once again arrived.
Thai’s kids were stacking old tyres in a heap, forming a tower next to a pile of rubbish at the side of the house. The oldest boy, who was about nine, was ordering his younger brother to bring the next one over. Silas watched the boy sweating, every muscle in his skinny body strained as he tried to carry it to the indicated spot. He had never noticed until now that the older one didn’t talk. Each of his instructions to his brother, who was clearly the slave in this architectural feat, was mimed with a strange mixture of hand signals and urgent mouthing.
He was bitten by a dingo
, the younger one explained. A lizard flicked through the dirt and he bent down to grab it, quick and sure, the tail coming off in his hands. He held it up proudly, a worm twitching between his fingers.
Hurts him to open his mouth. It’s his jaw
, and the older brother tilted his head up to show Silas the long jagged scar that cut around the base of his chin.
Really?
Silas asked.
Really
, and they both nodded solemnly.
Silas glanced at the tyres stacked next to the piles ofgarbage and, without thinking, told them he wanted to go to the garden, the one in the rubbish dump. The sudden realisation that this was what he would do filled him with an overpowering sense of relief, the strength of the sensation almost making him nauseous as he reeled back from the possibility of the fall that had been dogging him all morning.
The younger boy pointed one skinny arm towards the right of the jetty, the lizard’s tail still dangling between his fingers.
It’s that way
, and he sniffed, the snot disappearing up his nostril, only to run down again, thick and yellow, moments later.
The older one shook his head furiously and started scratching a drawing in the dirt, the chickens pecking at the edges of the marks he made.
He’s drawing you a map. He says it’s past two stone places and then there’s a tree
.
No
. The older boy stamped his feet angrily, kicking up a cloud of dust, the hens scattering and squawking.
The sudden loudness of his voice shocked Silas. Rubbing at the grit in his eyes, now mingled with a slow trickle of sweat from his forehead, he looked at the two of them.
He can talk when he wants to
, the younger one explained.
It’s just that it hurts
, and he attempted to grasp Silas’s arm as he turned to walk away.
It’s true
, he protested.
As Silas swung each leg over what remained of the gate,as he tried to shoo the chickens back inside, he could still hear the younger boy:
Don’t you want to know how to get there? To the garden?
He just shook his head and walked on.
2
Tarentula. It was not a difficult choice for a first remedy. It had, in fact, sprung to my mind when I
As he had tried to sleep, Silas had felt his aloneness, and he had wanted, more than anything, the warmth of another body beside him, someone to affirm his existence in the strangeness of this place. He had closed his eyes, only to start, visibly jerking as he had felt his body falling, and there was pure panic as he had wondered why he had come here and what he had to go back to.
Now, in the morning, the dryness of the heat was harsh on his back and shoulders and the emptiness crushed him. He glanced briefly at the ruin of the house next door andthen closed his eyes. For a moment, the possibility of going over there and lying down in the midst of its collapse crossed his mind. He would clear a small space in the rubble and filth and curl up. He shook his head and swiped, yet again, at the flies, his entire body agitated by the stillness at which he had once again arrived.
Thai’s kids were stacking old tyres in a heap, forming a tower next to a pile of rubbish at the side of the house. The oldest boy, who was about nine, was ordering his younger brother to bring the next one over. Silas watched the boy sweating, every muscle in his skinny body strained as he tried to carry it to the indicated spot. He had never noticed until now that the older one didn’t talk. Each of his instructions to his brother, who was clearly the slave in this architectural feat, was mimed with a strange mixture of hand signals and urgent mouthing.
He was bitten by a dingo
, the younger one explained. A lizard flicked through the dirt and he bent down to grab it, quick and sure, the tail coming off in his hands. He held it up proudly, a worm twitching between his fingers.
Hurts him to open his mouth. It’s his jaw
, and the older brother tilted his head up to show Silas the long jagged scar that cut around the base of his chin.
Really?
Silas asked.
Really
, and they both nodded solemnly.
Silas glanced at the tyres stacked next to the piles ofgarbage and, without thinking, told them he wanted to go to the garden, the one in the rubbish dump. The sudden realisation that this was what he would do filled him with an overpowering sense of relief, the strength of the sensation almost making him nauseous as he reeled back from the possibility of the fall that had been dogging him all morning.
The younger boy pointed one skinny arm towards the right of the jetty, the lizard’s tail still dangling between his fingers.
It’s that way
, and he sniffed, the snot disappearing up his nostril, only to run down again, thick and yellow, moments later.
The older one shook his head furiously and started scratching a drawing in the dirt, the chickens pecking at the edges of the marks he made.
He’s drawing you a map. He says it’s past two stone places and then there’s a tree
.
No
. The older boy stamped his feet angrily, kicking up a cloud of dust, the hens scattering and squawking.
The sudden loudness of his voice shocked Silas. Rubbing at the grit in his eyes, now mingled with a slow trickle of sweat from his forehead, he looked at the two of them.
He can talk when he wants to
, the younger one explained.
It’s just that it hurts
, and he attempted to grasp Silas’s arm as he turned to walk away.
It’s true
, he protested.
As Silas swung each leg over what remained of the gate,as he tried to shoo the chickens back inside, he could still hear the younger boy:
Don’t you want to know how to get there? To the garden?
He just shook his head and walked on.
2
Tarentula. It was not a difficult choice for a first remedy. It had, in fact, sprung to my mind when I
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