William Rose - The Seven Habits

She wanted to curl up on a bed of dry leaves, and simply waste away.

He squeezed her hand gently and she was pulled along on a current that roiled with emotion. Everything had been so simple the day before. Life was hard, but at least it had made sense. Now, it seemed as if she had slipped into a bizarre dream where her heart and conscience fought one another in a battle for dominance. They exchanged blows so rapidly that it physically felt as if the world were spinning around her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, to praise her good fortune or damn herself.

None of this would have happened if Mama were still alive. She’d be laying in her room, perhaps playing with her collection of glass animals as she thought about her father; she’d wonder where the next meal would come from, how she would manage to find some clean water to ease the burning in her throat.

Instead, here she was, with the promise of food, of drink, of something other than the grimy rags that wrapped her wasted frame, and her mother was still back there, staring up with eyes that would never see again.

Ocean stopped as suddenly as if she’d been turned to stone; her stomach twisted into painful knots that seemed to climb into her chest and wrap around her heart. She pulled her hand away from the stranger, hugging herself as she doubled over. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that the tears which had been threatening to fall were forced out, and she began to shiver with delayed shock.

Mama is dead, truly and really dead. There was a tire iron sticking out of the side of her shattered skull and her blood was everywhere; on the ground, in her hair, on her clothes. Oh Jesus, Mama’s blood is on my clothes, and what if that means her ghost is here too, what have I done, Good Lord, what have I done? My own mother, I killed…

The stranger’s breath was warm in her ear and she felt herself pulled into his arms. He hugged her just like her Daddy used to, allowing her to bury her face into his chest as he stroked her hair and whispering the entire time. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re safe now. You’re safe…”

She didn’t want to cry. Not in front of him , of all people. She tried to suck all the pain back inside her, to store it away in some dark and secret place within her soul. That only caused a low moan to tremble out of her throat, and she pressed herself even more tightly against the reassuring solidity of the man’s chest.

“That’s okay. Let it out, let it all out. That’s a good girl.”

It took a while, but eventually she composed herself. She wiped away the tears and snot with the hem of her shirt, trying to look anywhere but into his eyes when he asked if she was sure she was okay. She wanted to show him that she could be strong, too, that she wasn’t just some frightened little girl who’d foolishly wandered into a pack of rotters. They walked on in silence, with him leading her by the hand once more, and she taking in every detail of the journey. Every so often, they’d pass little rectangles of light, shining down from up near the ceiling. She knew what they were, of course. After heavy rains, she and her mother used to hold cans inside them, to collect the water that flowed down into the darkness. Even with that experience, she’d never thought to ask where the water they couldn’t catch went.

As they scurried through the tunnels and past the drains, she sometimes caught glimpses of feet. More like silhouettes, really; there wasn’t much daylight left on the surface and detail was washed out in the coming shadows. She knew instinctively what they were: rotters. And here they were, passing right underneath them… she’d had to cover her mouth to keep from giggling the first time this thought had bubbled up in her mind.

After what seemed an eternity of walking, Ocean become aware of a faint scent drifting though the darkened tunnel. The aroma immediately set off a rumbling in her stomach so loud that Corduroy must have heard it, for he started chuckling behind her. The smell was maddening and her mouth began to water as it grew in strength. They were cooking. Cooking meat. How long had it been since she’d had hot food? Six, seven moons maybe? She remembered losing the flint and how angry her mother had been with her. She spent days searching on hands and knees for that little stone, but it seemed the earth had opened up and swallowed it whole. From that point on, meat—when they were fortunate enough to find it—was raw and bloody.

“Just about there,” the stranger said. “In time for dinner, too.”

He wasn’t whispering anymore and Ocean had forgotten how

rich and deep his voice was; and now his words caused tiny shivers to tingle along her spine.

“I’ll need to introduce you, of course. What’s your name, darlin’?”

She couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across her face.

“Ocean.”

“Well, now… I think that’s just about the prettiest name I ever heard.”

Ocean felt like hiding her face within her hands and giggling but managed to resist the impulse.

“I’m Gauge. Corduroy, you’ve met already. There’s two more of us, Levi and Pebble. I think you’ll like Levi. She’s a little older than you, of course, but she’s a sweetheart.”

Ocean tasted a bitter flavor in her mouth and noticed that the muscles in her neck and shoulders had grown tense.

“She’s been with me since almost the beginning…”

“What about Pebble?” The words came out more quickly, and much more sharply, than Ocean had intended and she felt herself blush in the darkness. Corduroy snorted a laugh, but Gauge seemed unfazed by the question.

“Pebble? He’s… different. Doesn’t really talk much. Or at all, now that I really think about it, but I don’t think you two would have much in common. He’s just a little kid.”

Ocean felt as if her chest were inflating, smiled like she’d just seen the most beautiful rainbow on the most perfect of mornings. Just a little kid . She savored every syllable of the words, repeating them over and over in her mind. So he knew somehow, that she was a woman, but it shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, he seemed to understand her in a way no one ever had.

Gauge led them through a gaping hole in a wall and Ocean suddenly found herself standing in a cavernous room. Square in shape, it had brick walls that reached up to touch a ceiling that seemed to curve gently inward like the inside of some massive dome. The top of the ceiling was so high that only the silhouettes of pipework could be glimpsed through a gloom that gradually darkened into a space as black as the night sky.

With no windows or openings to the outside world, the entire chamber would have been obscured by darkness had it not been for rows of candles that flickered from all sides. The candles were housed in containers of every imaginable shape, size, and material—the tops of tin cans glowed with hidden fire alongside glass bottles, large globes that looked as if they’d been scavenged from lamp posts, and ceramic cups with broken handles. Behind each candle were shards of broken mirror, amplifying and scattering the light so that the brick walls danced with shadows.

A few candles where clustered on the floor, but the majority of them had been placed between concrete supports that jutted out from the walls at regular intervals. The space between each column formed an alcove of sorts and the group who lived there had taken advantage of that feature. Somehow, they’d managed to wedge pieces of wood and old street signs into these otherwise empty spaces, forming shelves that were nearly twice as high as Ocean was tall.

For a moment she simply stood in the mouth of the tunnel as her eyes darted from feature to feature in an attempt to take it all in. Across the room, and directly caddy-corner from her, looked to be another tunnel leading out of the chamber. The interior wall that ran parallel to it had places where bricks had been knocked out, leaving gaps that made it look as though the wall were a puzzle with missing pieces.