Benjamin Wood: The Ecliptic

‘Seems to me—’ Pettifer sighed, reaching for a block of firewood, ‘that others are getting the benefit of my exertions a little too often these days.’

Quickman nudged him. ‘How about you give us the benefit of your silence then, instead?’

‘You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.’

Quickman laughed. ‘Here — toss this paper on the pile.’

‘You should twist it first. Burns better.’

The two of them were still lighting the fire when Ender shuffled in. The boy loomed behind him, shivering on the threshold. He was wrapped up in a blanket, standard issue: scratchy orange wool with a hand-embroidered P.

Ender coughed and said, ‘Excuse me, our guest is very cold and tired, so maybe not much of talking for today. Hello, hello, and then we go — OK?’ The old man took a step to one side, presenting the boy with an extended arm, as though he were the conclusion of a magic trick. Then he said, ‘Fullerton, this is some people who take care of you now, for today, and soon the provoss hisself will be here.’ In the old man’s unaccustomed tongue, it sounded more like Foolertinn . ‘They are old but not so bad for talking. You can like them.’

‘Crikey.’ Pettifer rose, wiping soot on his trousers. ‘Impossible to live up to that sort of introduction.’

The boy lifted his chin and forced out a whisper: ‘Hey.’ He was trembling so much the blanket quivered about his body like a storm sail. Now that his hood was down and he was close enough, we could see the wholeness of his face. His small brown eyes were close together, sunken, drawing attention to the slim pillar of his nose and its bell of soft cartilage. He had a slack lower jaw — what my father used to call a ‘lazy mouth’—the tongue nesting behind the bottom row of teeth, giving wetness to his lips. His dark hair parted easily in the middle, like the pages of a Bible, and it was fashioned in that lank teenage style, curtaining his brow, obscuring what appeared to be a birthmark on the left of his forehead. He was probably shorter than most boys his age, though his broad, hod-carrier’s shoulders held an arching shape beneath the blanket that made him seem older.

I was the first of us to speak to him. The others hung back, unsure. We had almost forgotten how to talk to anyone but ourselves. ‘Hell of a trek, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘Your feet must be aching. Sit down.’ For some reason, I did not offer him my hand to shake but gave an odd sort of Sitting Bull wave, palm flat and raised. ‘I’m Knell. With a K. Good to meet you.’

He nodded back, shuddering.

‘Come on in by the fire. It’s going a treat now. Get yourself warm.’

He moved in closer to the hearth. Then, casting off the blanket, he leaned with both arms spread across the mantelpiece, imbibing the heat. From behind, it seemed as though he was holding up the wall itself.

‘The two gents to your right are Pettifer and Quickman.’ They both waved, but the boy’s back was turned to them, and he did not seem to be listening. ‘And that’s MacKinney there by the window. She and I have been here since, oh, I’m not sure it’s polite to say.’

‘Not so long as me,’ said Ender, still in the doorway. ‘I am getting the white hairs.’ He combed his moustache with his fingers and crowed.

The boy did not move. ‘Please,’ he said, so quietly it was almost lost amid the crackle of the flames, ‘if I could just have a minute to—’ He clutched his stomach. We took a few paces back as a precaution, but nothing came up. The boy sighed and continued: ‘Just to thaw out, that’s all. I still can’t feel my toes.’ He turned now, his back to the fire, a radiant outline about his middle. His eyes were shut and he was inhaling through the nose, exhaling through his puckered mouth. ‘You can talk. . I just need to. . to be quiet for a sec. .’

‘Of course,’ I said, sitting down on the couch, making eyes at MacKinney. We shrugged at each other. ‘The provost asked us to be your welcoming party. He thought, with the four of us being so used to the place, and speaking the same language, it might help you bed in quicker. A little familiarity goes a long way here. He wanted to give the induction himself, but—’

Fullerton kept on trying to regulate his breathing. I was not sure that he was receiving me.

‘He’s had to go off-island,’ I continued. ‘Organising your paperwork, I should think, just in case you decide to stay longer. So we’re only substitutes, I’m afraid. But I promise you’re getting the same treatment as everyone else.’

Pettifer spoke up then: ‘Actually, we’ve never rolled out the red carpet like this before. For anyone .’ He cleared his throat, as though the implication of this noise would prompt the boy into a response. But it did not, and Pettifer folded his arms, affronted. ‘Well, I’m really feeling the glow of philanthropy right now, I must say.’

‘Leave him be,’ said MacKinney. ‘He’s just got here and we’re crowding him.’

‘It’s OK,’ the boy said at last. ‘I told you. . I’m just cold.’ He opened his eyes then, and stared back at us. ‘And I do appreciate you all being so friendly. But I didn’t come here to make friends. I just want to get out of these clothes and rest, and maybe we can all have dinner sometime later. That’s how it works, right? I was told I’d be left alone.’

Quickman bit down on his pipe, smirking. ‘That’s the long and the short of it. Dinner is any time after the bell goes. There’s a rule about taking it in the mess hall, so I suppose we’ll save a place for you.’ He narrowed his eyes at the boy, checking he was being heard. ‘There are other rules, too, of course — but I expect you’ve been told most of them by now. The rest you can figure out as you go. Or ask the provost when he gets back. When does he get back, by the way?’

‘Three days,’ Ender informed him.

‘Well then.’

Fullerton blinked. He tucked the strands of his hair behind his ears.

‘Perhaps we should let Ender take him out to his lodging,’ I said. And then, flicking my eyes to the boy: ‘We were asked to show you how things worked, that’s all, answer your questions and such. But I suppose we can leave you alone, if that’s what you’d prefer. We’ll be around, in case you need anything.’

‘You can’t miss us,’ said MacKinney. ‘We’re always somewhere.’

‘All right, thanks,’ the boy said. He bent to retrieve the blanket from the floor and then began to study the shelves above the mantel. ‘Are we allowed to take these books?’

‘Some of them,’ Pettifer said. ‘You’re not old enough for Lady Chatterley , are you?’ He tried to engage the rest of us in his amusement but we kept quiet.

‘Funny, I don’t see that here.’ The boy browsed the spines serenely. ‘Maybe you could bring it back when the pages are dry.’

Pettifer flushed. ‘That’s disgusting.’

‘OK, OK,’ Quickman said, ‘let’s get back to work.’ He made for the door, patting Pettifer on the shoulder as he went past. ‘We’ll adjourn this for later.’

I stood up, smiling at the boy. ‘It’s nice to have a young face around.’

He nodded back.

Pettifer waved at the fire. ‘You can let that burn out. Or you can get more wood from downstairs. Up to you.’

‘Yeah, all right. Thanks.’

We were reluctant to leave him. Not just because we felt guilty for reneging on our promise to the provost, but because we found the boy such a confusing presence. We were not used to having gloomy teenagers about the place. He had a very modern manner that we did not know how to decode. There was something discomfiting about him in the most thrilling sense, the way a familiar room can be changed by a new arrangement of furniture. He enlivened us, shook us out of our habituations without even trying to. Of course, we could not anticipate how much he would affect the next period of our lives. It was as though, on that first afternoon with us, he loosened our connecting bolts quite accidentally, and the slow turn of the days saw to the rest.