ten
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↳ the cursed fig tree ↲
THEY USED TO SAY, AT THE END OF THE WORLD, darkness would consume the planet. That it would take home along everything living. All aspects of light. We initially interpreted this end to be something of a burning hell, in which things would rapidly wither away, like it never belonged in the first place.
Though, once it really ended, none of it was true. We were still here, existing within the end. We lived in a world that wasn't truly ours to keep anymore, yet things still remained. People, light, memories. Not everything could be erased, only to be dug up by whatever came after us. Not everything was meant to be buried beneath the surface of rot and decay.
We still remained, I still existed.
The buzzing of cicadas filled the air as I stood knee-deep in an icy stream. I held an empty bottle against the current, the water rushing through the small opening of the canister.
I hadn't needed to pull my boots off and get in, but I'd wanted to. It was natures blessing in the scorching Georgia heat. The river rushed between my feet and rinsed me clean of the aching in my muscles.
Green blossomed from every which direction—a definitive sign that I was fairly deep in the forest. Fig trees wrapped around the creekbed like a blanket of protection, their bushels waving back and forth in the evening breeze. I'd stuffed many of the small fruits in the pockets of my rolled jeans, heavily anticipating the moment I'd be able to bring them back to camp.
Odd enough, in this moment, I remembered a specific Sunday afternoon I'd spent in church years ago. We'd read an excerpt of the Bible where Jesus had damned a fig tree. He'd said, "May no one ever eat fruit from you again!".
This thought made me smile to myself as fruit juice dribbled down my chin. Jesus had just about damned everything else at this point—yet we still stood, bearing our fruits to the world.
That man used to mean everything to me. Now, he was nothing. A false pretender. In this world, I'd gotten to know God and his son, and neither of them cared to help our suffering, like they'd said they would.
Once the bottle was full, I capped it, and grabbed the next. I'd been filling them up for minutes on end. The group was running dangerously low on basic necessities, meaning everyone was scattered throughout the forest, gathering whatever they could before sundown.
We'd made camp about a mile or so back. I'd only come this far to escape Judith's high-pitched crying that'd been pushing me toward the brink of insanity for hours on end. It wasn't even so much about the noise itself. It was the concept. Jealousy I couldn't bring myself to be released of.
A rustling came from beyond the creek bed, a hand moving to my hip in unavoidable instinct. I stayed here in the water, watching closely as a body came from the heavy treeline. But it wasn't one of the dead. It was Carl.
I blinked at him, suddenly realizing how strange I must have looked here. Pockets full of fruit, water bottles secured beneath my arms, shoes left on the bank. Not to mention, I was standing in the river. The edges of my rolled-up jeans were soaked, but I hadn't minded the cooling sensation.
He stepped forward, leaves brushing against the top of his hat. "What are you doing?"
I blinked again. "Fillin' bottles. You?"
My hair picked up in the warm wind. Dark, wavy strands rippled softly against the air. I knew it was long-due for a chop, but I resented the idea of cutting it now. It had gotten almost waist length, and it was easier to pull into an updo, than cut it on my own.
"I was looking for you." He admitted. "Daryl said you'd be here."
I waded, the cold water numbing my tingling skin. "I thought we could use some water."
He cocked his head at me. "How did that end with you actually in the water?"
I grimaced. I hoped it would hide the embarrassment on my face. "I don't know—I just thought it would feel nice?"
"Does it?" He asked, taking off his hat and leaning over to set it beside my boots.
He ruffled his hand through his sweaty mass of hair. I guess we both needed a trim.
I nodded. "Yeah. It cools you right down."
To my surprise, he didn't look at me with judgement. In fact, he balanced himself against the trunk of a tree, and pulled his own shoes off. He didn't bother with his pants, or shirt. He just walked straight in, wincing at the pin-prickling temperature. I understood the expression—when I'd first gone in, the shock had single-handedly stolen all warmth from my body.
He tilted his head back, as if this river was a baptism of survival.
When he finally gained some sense back, he looked to me with eyes stricken in vulnerability. "You were right."
I only smiled. "I know. It feels nice."
"No—," He said, turning to face me, resulting in his taller body to block the sun. "I meant about Terminus."
The figs in my pocket suddenly threatened to drag me down. Realistically, it was only the weight his sentence held on me. It was easier to blame it on the fruit, however.
I tucked a strand behind my ear. "I'm always right. Get used to it."
The tone I used was playful. It took everything in me to get it to that point. If I hadn't, it might've sounded more like a faltering voice, on the brink of tears. Carl only shook his head, an eyeroll resulting from my sarcasm. I tilted my head, eyes resting on him. He didn't seem distraught by my choice in attitude. He was either used to it, or, happier to talk about it as if it was only an inside joke between us.
To pretend none of it had really happened.
"Shut up." Carl remarked, acknowledging the impertinent look I was giving him.
I let out a sighed laugh. "I didn't even say anything."
"Yeah," He nodded. "Let's keep it that way."
I reached for one of the figs in my pocket, chucking the thing at him before he had a chance to brace himself. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized it was rotten. The thing split apart and splattered on his shirt like a too-soft-tomato, leaving stains of deep red and purple against him.
He looked down, scoffing. When he tilted his head back up, I knew I was in deep shit. His eyes were filled with frenzy, and he adjusted his weight to charge at me. When he lurched forward, I shouted, taking off up the river.
Water splashed violently as I ran against the pull of the current, freezing droplets flying back at Carl, who desperately tried to catch up with me. Any chance of leaving the creek with the upper half of my jeans still dry, was put to an end.
"You can't run forever!" He shouted from behind, disadvantaged by my head start.
I stumbled on a moss-covered rock, set off balance as I continued, before gaining my footing again. Heavy sloshing sounded directly behind. I knew his words were right. . . running upstream was close to impossible. If I lost my balance again, I'd take a complete cold-plunge.
I gasped for air, the cold spreading up the denim I wore. "Truce! I didn't mean to. Truce!"
I pumped my arms excessively. Running through water, even shallow, felt like trying to run in a dream. Unseen forces tugged heavily at my legs as I kicked up sand, each step more of a struggle than the last.
He was crackling up at my terror. "Tell that to my damn shirt! I don't have any other clothes! We can truce when you're covered in rotten fruit, too!"
I spared a glance back. Holy fuck, he was within an arms distance. A smile was strewn across his face, as if he could already see the outcome of this advance. Inevitable collision.
"No! It was an accident! I was just trying to share!" My heart dipped, the pulsations speeding to match the rhythm of my hurried strides.
His breathing was heavy. "You're full of shit."
Ahead, the water stretched on. The terrain was slippery, and uneven. The water was more shallow here, but it cascaded down the tiered rocks in an unavoidable way. Jagged points jutted on the edge of the bank, forcing me to wade further into the depths of the river. My waist was now dipped into the cold.
Prey verses predator.
He lunged at me, and I just barely twisted out of reach. Though, when I did so, the rocks shifted beneath me. I stumbled, loosing control of myself. He was able to grab hold of me as I fell back, an echo of victory coming from him, before our collision sent us both tumbling fully into the water. We both became completely submerged in the deep as the force of the flow tilted us backward.
His weight pressed against me as I brought my head to the surface, breaths ragged as I inhaled. We were being seized by the current, not enough time to allow us to stand.
It had gotten dangerous in an instant.
Still holding onto me, he struggled against the relentless flow, fighting his way to the edge of the bank. He was able to bring us to the rocks, grappling himself, and pulling us up to the pebbled ground.
Once crawling fully out, we began into a fit of coughing. The loud chokes shortly became laughter, breathing heavy against the sounds of the rushing water. There was no malice strewn in our faces, like expected. Only lightheartedness.
An occurrence between us two that we hadn't yet experienced.
We were drenched, water rolling off us and splatting to the ground as if it were rain. My hair was stuck to my body in a twisted mess, clothes vacant of any warmth or dryness. A stain had been added to the back of my shirt, but I found myself fine with this. Carl had a much more vibrant one on the front of his, anyway.
I rested against the ground, elbows propping me up to watch the water we'd just escaped.
"Holy shit." Carl remarked, still huffing as he lay down. He reached behind us for the hat he'd left, placing the item back on his head.
I grinned, grabbing my boots. "You're an asshole."
I slipped the shoes on, as he looked to me. I could feel the liquid sloshing in the tips of them, courtesy of the drenched fabric clinging to my shivering body.
"An asshole who just won." He remarked.
"You call that winning?" I asked, "We both just almost drowned."
He huffed out, his shoulders shrugging as he did so. "Fine. I'll call it a tie."
"That's more like it." I agreed, feeling for the food I'd gathered.
The fruit, as it seemed, had been expelled from my pockets when we'd become completely submerged. We'd have to gather more before heading back. It was probably the only thing we'd eat tonight, apart from the pecans Carl had found earlier.
"Are you cooled down fully?" The boy asked me, a hint of mockery on his tongue.
I lowered my eyes at him. "Don't make me throw another rotten fig at you."
He put his hands up in defeat, and I wrung my hair like a rag. More water splatted against the hot, sandy rocks. I knew it wouldn't take long for us to dry. I assumed we'd be good as new by the time we made it back to the camp, if not sooner. The heat was already crawling back up my spine like a plague.
The south was not for the weak. It's heat was unpredictable, and unforgiving. I'd lived in Georgia my entire life, but this was different. There was no more air conditioning. And as I'd just learned, you could either chose to be freezing cold, or burning up. There was no in between. Not anymore.
Carl came to a stand. I followed this action, remembering that when I'd told Daryl where I was going, he'd instructed me to be back in an hour. He'd said that if I didn't return by then, he'd come looking.
That hour was nearly up, and it was time to go.
"Why were you looking for me?" I suddenly asked, the inquiry heavy on my mind as we picked more of the fruit off the trees.
He examined one closely, before ultimately deciding it was no good, and tossed it to the grass.
"Daryl asked me to." He replied.
I snorted, stuffing a couple more into my overflowing pockets. "No he didn't. He knows exactly when I'll be back. He didn't have any reason to ask you."
He stopped, realizing I'd caught him in his lie. The brim of his hat tipped to conceal his face.
"Maybe I just wanted to."
"Oh." A droplet of water slid down the bridge of my nose. "Why?"
We now had no more room for figs. We began up the way we'd come from, the light dimming in the sky.
"You've been quiet." He admitted.
We were kicking up dust with our steps, unsettling the ground beneath us as we tiredly continued on. Birds left behind the branches they'd been perched on, in our wake.
I shrugged. "Nothing to say, I guess."
He watched me carefully. "Did something else happen, when you got pulled from the train car?"
I swatted at a fly. The damn insect could smell the sugary plant on me.
"No. Nothing but what your dad already told you." I assured him.
I didn't want to explain the envy I held for him and his sister. It sounded foolish, even in my head. It was a feeling that I could not ease, and would have to work over. It wasn't his fault that things went in his favor. They hadn't for me, and that was the reality of the situation. There was nothing that could be done.
I was happy for him. I really was. It was simply clouded by my own loss. I thought it easier to avoid him and Judith while I sorted through my emotions. It wasn't right to blame him, or direct any of this internal conflict at him.
"If you need to talk about anything. . ." He started.
I shook my head. "I'm okay. Just tired."
He looked at me like he didn't believe a word of it. But he didn't push me any further. He must have known that it wouldn't end well, and we'd be back to square one. Endless arguments, and constant hatred. Instead, he only nodded with uncertainty. He accepted my false answer, because it was better than confrontation between us.
With this, he changed the subject, and we took ourselves back to camp with lightened conversation.
Following our return, the rest of the evening was spent gathered around a fire, our stomachs full of nuts and berries. The group eventually wound down for the night, and I, too, settled in, allowing the soft hum of insects to mend my deep, subconscious aching.
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2,651 words.
this chapter has been completely rewritten as of 12/24. originally, it was a very boring filler chapter, which I changed to have some character growth + events occur. thus, most comments have disappeared (if u were curious heheh). I genuinely am so so happy with how it turned out.
sincerely yours,
nika.