Eclipse

Chapter Nine: Rowan

          TO HIS HORROR, ROWAN WOKE UP the next morning with tear streaked cheeks.

          Roxy was frowning at him. He was reminded of how they first met, when she had hauled his butt out of the water, saving him, and proceeded to judge him until he woke, and he felt a sudden sense of dejà vu.

          "Are you crying?" she asked plainly.

          Rowan swiped at his cheeks, muttered something inaudible, and hoped she would move on.

          She did so, to his relief, and yawned. Her dirty blonde hair was all knotted from sleep, and some of it stuck up in a puff around her head. Rowan got up from his cot and smoothed his shirt.

          "Where's Griffin gone?" he asked, casting a curious look around the tent; Roxy shrugged. He recalled there'd been four lived-in cotts when he and Roxy had first arrived. They'd only met one of the four. "Anyways, feeling up for breakfast?"

         The girl balked a bit. Was her face turning pale, or was it just his imagination?

          "What's the matter?"

          She scrambled to cover it up. "Nothing. I'm just not feeling well. Let's go eat anyways."

           Rowan studied her for a moment longer, but obliged, pushing it no farther. They burst out of the tent into the open air. The Pittsburgh sky was picturesque, with an expansion of vibrant blue dotted with wispy clouds. Dewdrops hung in the air, giving it a humid quality. Rowan had brought his phone with him: he glanced at it, checking for texts. There were none.

          Before his heart could drop, there was an interruption.

          "Attention all refugees," an automated voice boomed. "Due to overcrowding, all residents of Block V will be transferred to Columbus, Ohio, via truck. Gather outside tents and collect all personal belongings."

          The message repeated itself.

          "Are we in Block V?" Rowan asked—Roxy nodded, replying: "VCQ-346, so yeah."

           He glanced at her. "You're good at memorizing," he noted.

          She shrugged. "You never know what you might need to know."

          It was a bit of a stretch, but Rowan nodded. They turned around and backtracked back to their tent. It took them little time to pack their belongings: Rowan had only brought his schoolbag, stuffed with lingering rations, and Roxy had all her stuff inside her bag, too.

         "You ready?" She was up and at the entrance already.

          Rowan took a moment to think. Was this what his life would be like? A continuous shuffle from one place to another, never having quite enough time to catch his breath?

          Don't think that way, he chided himself. He had Roxy, after all, and Griffin the Kiwi.

          Besides—his breath caught—if he ever wanted to see his mom again, he had to keep going. There was no other option.

          It is how it is, he allowed.

          Rowan caught her eye and smiled. "Ready."

          They exited the tent, bags thrown over their shoulders. As they were exiting, a family of three entered: a tired-looking mother, father, and a toddler. Rowan smiled politely at them as he and Roxy peered outside. A uniformed officer was walking down the row, directing people in clusters. He reached them, and, barely sparing them a glance, relayed directions emotionlessly: "Get on that truck." He pointed towards a large, olive-green truck parked nearby.

          "Thank you, sir," Rowan said earnestly.

          The officer looked at them for the first time. He had kind eyes.

          He gave Rowan a smile and pet Roxy on the back. "Hang on to each other," he said, and just like that, he moved on to the next tent. Roxy and Rowan headed towards the truck he had pointed at and boarded. They were hit by the unpleasant smell of unwashed human lingering in the air. Rowan's eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness and he took in the scene. There were about a dozen people inside, sitting down. A baby was crying, and several people coughed into their arms. Their faces were all downcast. Rowan smiled sadly at the lot of them, looking for Griffin. He spotted the Kiwi with a man who Rowan assumed was his dad, and waved. He and Roxy sat down beside them.

          Griffin was all cheer. "Roxy, Rowan! Hey. This is my dad."

          His dad looked them over through brown eyes, twinkling behind square-framed glasses. "Nice to meet you two." His voice was deep with amiable undertones. Rowan liked him instantly.

          "Likewise," Rowan said, smiling.

          "You can call me Phil," Griffin's dad offered.

          Rowan felt awkward. He had never felt comfortable addressing an adult by his first name, but he agreed. "Okay. Chur," he said hesitantly, testing out the Kiwi slang.

          Phil gave a hearty laugh. "Chur."

          He trailed off. Rowan concluded that he was man of few words; it was fine with him. The silence felt agreed upon, comfortable. But as the snippets of conversation died out, the gloom was back. Griffin said something to his dad, and they both laughed. Roxy and Rowan shared a dark look before she broke it off to stare at the floor. Dull chatter floated over the truck as people spoke in hushed whispers. Families clutched onto each other, tears pooling in their eyes. A young mother cradled her baby in her arms—he was still shrieking and crying. She cooed over him, kissing his forehead, whispering sweet nothings.

          Rowan thought of his mom and instinctively glanced at his phone. No texts. Of course. He swallowed his disappointment and waited.

          A couple more people boarded, and the truck was off, beginning their ride to Columbus. Rowan's eyes glazed over, and he bent over, crossing his arms over his knees and holding his head in his arms. The truck rolled over the smooth highway, bumping occasionally.

          "It's a long way to Columbus," Roxy murmured.

          "It'll be fine," Rowan assured her. "We'll be fine." Hesitantly, he reached for her hand, and, by sheer luck, she didn't kick him. Her hand was cold.

           "I hope so, Rowan." She was lolling off to sleep. "I hope so."