La Mort et ses Merveilles
Chapter 23: Autumn's Purgatory
The summer, slowly but surely, was coming to an end. There was an aura of anxiety enveloping the convent and its environs. The first winter after the collapse of society was soon going to be upon us. There was talk -among some of the sisters, and some of the folk in the Yard, that we weren't going to make it, but Mother Agnes was quick to put down these concerns.
At one of the assemblies that we had in the chapel, where all of us gathered, she tried to reassure us in a calm and composed manner. Her hands clasped in front of her robes, she addressed us from the pulpit.
"I've heard talk among us that we might not make the winter," she began. "But we must not doubt ourselves. We've already made it this far, and we cannot let all that we worked for go to waste."
I was with Leslie at that time, standing near the back. The young man seemed disinterested, leaning against the wall, chewing on a piece of gum. He chewed with his mouth open, and a few disgruntled heads nearby turned to the source of the noise, resonating from the small corner of the chapel. I had to glare at him for the young man to stop.
"We have to have faith in God," Mother Agnes preached. "And we have to have faith in ourselves."
In the corner of my vision, I noticed Leslie rolling his eyes. I left the chapel with my boyfriend once we were all dismissed, with a sense of anxiety in my stomach, doubtful of the coming winter.
Of course, Leslie and I didn't get to be intimate with each other a lot, since with the summer heat slowly fading away, we were all busier than ever trying to stockpile for the cold months. There was always vegetables to harvest or firewood to be chopped. We needed firewood -lots of it.
Whatever time we had alone together, I tried to make the best of it. It could be just cuddling, sitting beside each other listening to music, or even just eating breakfast at our table. It was little things like these that made me happy. But there was something in Leslie's blue eyes. Something that told me he wanted more.
The both of us were in the bell tower, looking out into the meadows to the south. It was just another typical fall afternoon -the sky was as blue as ever, a plain canvas against the landscape of autumn trees in the west, their leaves in various hues of red, orange and yellow. It's funny how I've always found fall the most beautiful season, when in reality it was nothing but death. Death in every tree. Death in every falling leaf.
Death can be many things -scary, poignant, ugly, beautiful.
"You see anything, blondie?" I heard Leslie say as he walked up to me.
"Nothing interesting," I replied. "But I guess that's a good sign."
"It sure is," he said as he walked up beside me.
A chilly breeze blew into the belltower, causing a eerie hollow sound in the metal bell. Sure, it happened quite a few times already, but everytime it did, it never failed to send a rattle down my spine.
Sure, I enjoyed being with Leslie and all, but my mind was elsewhere. I was worried sick.
The vicodin from the stockpile had been dwindling. For how long, I didn't know. And not because Josephine was giving them out for folk with killer headaches. If it was, we'd know, since we record all the medicine that leaves the infirmary.
I blamed myself for not realising it earlier, but it was out of habit that I just counted the boxes and never really checked the contents. When I picked them up to rearrange them, it felt like there was something in them, so I just assumed the pills were there. Only a few days before when I dropped the small boxes and its spilled its contents open did I realise its contents -nothing but empty pill packs.
Most of the Vicodin was gone. I told Josephine about it, but we hadn't made any decision yet. She didn't mention Leslie, but I didn't tell her about the time he tried to get the infirmary key off me. She was still trying to figure out who'd steal the Vicodin.
As for me, my prime suspect stood right beside me.
"You know," Leslie said as he put an arm around my shoulder. "There's no one here right now."
"I can see that," I told him, slightly irritated.
"Do you want to. . ." the young man proposed, nuzzling against me. "Mess around?"
I let out a deep sigh. It must've scared him away, because he quickly dropped his arm and took a step away from me.
"Let me just get this straight," I said sternly as I turned to look at him. "I want you to be honest, okay?"
The young man stared at me with his deep blue eyes, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Wh-What's wrong?" he asked, his lips quivering slightly.
"You know what," I said, folding my arms. "Why don't you just admit it. Saves me from accusing you. And it'll be easier to be over and done with."
"What are you talking about?" Leslie questioned. "Accusing me? I don't get it."
"What do you ever get?" I shook my head, rolling my eyes. "Just tell me what you did."
"Seriously Jay," he said. "Will you knock it off? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"The Vicodin, Leslie!" I snapped, losing my patience. "You took them didn't you? Popped all the pills from their packets and carried them off to God knows where!"
There was a brief silence, as Leslie paced beside me.
"I didn't take them," he said. "If you wanted to know. But you seem more interested in accusing me."
"Oh c'mon," I groaned. "Who else in this entire place could it be? Who else in this convent was a-"
I stopped myself, but it was too late.
"Was a what?" Leslie said, walking up to me, standing tall. "A drug addict? A jailbird? That's what you wanted to say, right?"
"Leslie I didn't mean to-"
The young man held his hand up, cutting my sentence short.
"You know," he said, his blue eyes looking at me, downcast. "I always thought if I were to get a second chance, it was through you. Guess I was wrong."
There they were again, those sad, sad eyes of his. I couldn't say anything as I watched him walk down the winding stairs, his footsteps against the steps echoing in the empty tower.
It wasn't him, and I only found that out to late. I sighed as I fell back into the chair we had set up to watch the surrounding meadow.
It was wrong of me to accuse him like that. To see him so hurt by my words, I felt like the world's biggest hypocrite. Wasn't I the one who was always telling Leslie to watch his words or he'll risk hurting others? Yet here I was, my words hurting the feelings of the young man I loved.
I had to apologise, but at the same time, I didn't know if Leslie wanted to be disturbed. I spent the rest of the day working in the garden, and hanging out with Cass and Ashley. It was great to have some space from Leslie, but when I thought about why he was staying away from me at that moment, it just made me sad.
I sat with him at dinner, but he wasn't very welcoming either.
"You should go sit with the other decent folk," he said as I sat down, without even bothering to look up from his mixed vegetables and rice. "Not someone like me."
I was ready to apologise, an entire speech in my head rehearsed over and over, but the young man's curt remark threw me off. I only sat there and ate my meal in silence. Once, Leslie finished up his bowl, he took off.
Way to go, me. I nearly kicked myself for being such a big coward. 'I'm sorry' is it that hard to say? Maybe that's where Leslie and I differed -he apologised too much, while I rarely do. I guess it had always been like that. Even before the zombie outbreak, I'd be scurrying along if I ever accidentally tripped someone. There just seemed to be a lump in my throat whenever I had to apologise.
Like yeah, I knew I should do it, and I knew what I did wrong. But knowing it in my heart and admitting it, with my tongue and my lips, was so much different.
I only mustered enough courage to go talk to him again the next day. I couldn't find him at lunch, so I headed over to his room by the bell tower. Leslie never did any chores during lunch break, so if he wasn't at lunch, there was almost a hundred percent chance that the young man was in his room. Usually he'd either be relaxing or taking a nap. I'd know, in fact, I've even spent some of those lazy lunchtimes together with him.
I reached his door soon enough, and hesitated on knocking. With me, I brought the stack of letters I had found locked away in that dreaded locker in Leslie's uncle's old house. On one hand, I had forgotten about them, and felt like I should return them soon enough. On the other hand, it was something I hoped to bring it along as a sort of offering, to help win his forgiveness? I don't know.
"Hey Les," I said, as I knocked on the door. "Can I come in?"
The door opened, and I found my boyfriend standing there in front of me. He didn't really seem amused to see me, but he opened the door nonetheless.
"What'd you got there?" the young man asked, obviously referring to the stack of envelopes in my hand.
"Oh," I said, blinking my eyes as he derailed my train of thought. "These ah- well- These are for you. I -uh saved them from your uncle's house. Found them in the safe."
I expected him to say something about me, but of course he hadn't. Stop being so self-centred, Jason. When his attention was on the very letters I brought for him, it threw my mind off. I was prepared to compliment him if he did it first, but why would he do that when I had already angered him earlier?
And of course in that state of mind, my words came out wrong.
"Is this some kind of sick joke?" Leslie asked, shoving a hand onto my chest. "You told me you burnt them all!"
I was sent stumbling backwards, the envelopes falling out of my grip. My eyes widened, finally realising how my words could've been misinterpreted. Before he could slam the door in my face, I managed to call out to him.
"These aren't what you think," I said frantically. "These are letters. From your mother. And there's also something else I wanted to tell you."
Leslie's expression relaxed a little, and without a word, he walked back and sat himself down on the bed. Leaving the door open behind him, I took it as an invitation. Picking up the scattered envelopes, I let myself into his room, closing the door behind me.
"Give me those," he said rather coldly as I sat myself on the two-seater.
Wordlessly I handed over the stack. As he looked through the pile, I only sat there awkwardly. I had to internally kick myself to spit out those words.
"I came here," I began, causing Leslie to look up from the envelopes. "Because I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."
There was a short silence as Leslie placed the stack of letters inside one of the end table's drawers, chucking them together with his CD collection.
"Apology accepted," he muttered under his breath, a wry, sad smile on his lips.
He may have forgiven me, but I supposed my words still hurt.
"Hey," I said as I finally found the courage to seat myself next to him on the edge of his bed. "If it makes a difference, I believe you. If you said you didn't take those pills, then you didn't take those pills."
"Thanks," he muttered. "For believing me. Not a lot of people do."
I could only smile in return.
"Everyone makes mistakes," I told him. "Even me. I just want you to know that I accept you just the way you are."
"Aww," the young man said as he cocked his head back, a grin on his lips. "You're going to make me melt."
I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. We hugged for a while, a reconciliatory embrace. I was just glad he wasn't angry at me anymore.
"About the letters," Leslie said. "I guess I'll read them tonight. I never even knew these existed. My uncle never gave them to me."
"That's pretty evil of him," I remarked.
"Yeah," the young man sighed. "Hey, you wanna read them together?"
There was a spark in his deep blue eyes, but I couldn't tell what it was. Hope? Mischief? I couldn't tell, but one thing's for sure -he wasn't sad anymore.
"I don't think it's in my place Leslie," I told him as I got up. "Besides, those should've been for your eyes only."
"You're right," he sighed.
"Well, I've got some work to do," I told him. "I promised Clara to go to the back of the old hospice building and look through some of the old equipment. She told me to see what's suitable for scrapping."
"Well have fun," he wished me, as he stretched his arms in front of him.
I was walking up to the door, when the young man called out to me.
"On second thought," he said, standing up. "I guess I'll go with you."
I raised an eyebrow, but deep inside, I was happy.
"Don't you have anything else to do?" I asked. "But I suppose you could help."
"Of course," the young man walked up to me. "I don't trust you could even tell what's worth salvaging, you know? Art school kids, only good at taking sappy photos and writing even sappier poems."
"Hey!" I said in mock annoyance, playfully punching his forearm. "I wasn't even from art school!"
"It doesn't really matter now does it?" Leslie chuckled. "I'm still better when it comes to my hands."
The young man gave me a little wink, being his usual, flirtatious, suggestive self once again. It made me happy seeing him like that, things returning to normal. We probably fought for less than a day, but seeing him being sad and hurt because of me felt like forever. I was glad he was okay.
"You know," I said to him, staring up into his icy blue eyes. "Maybe once we're done in that lonely old storeroom, we could. . . We could do something really fun."
The young man raised an eyebrow, before biting his lip. Gosh, he was insanely cute when he did that.
"I-It's okay if you don't want to," I said, trying to backtrack, just in case in the slim chance that he somehow wasn't interested. "We can just hang out too, that's okay."
But it's Leslie, of course he'd know what I was getting at. I mean, I guess it was time Leslie and I moved on to the next big thing. He's been hinting at it, and I'm pretty sure he couldn't wait.
"You kidding me?" Leslie chuckled. "You basically just offered to let me pulverise your guts, you think I'm gonna turn that down?"
The young man flashed me a mischievous grin. Oh, he had all sorts of plans for me that's for sure. I could tell by just the way his eyes seemed to undress me.
"Just. . ." I began, as I was about to open the door. "Don't go rough or anything okay? I've never really done anything like this before."
"Sure thing," he chuckled underneath his breath as he landed a soft peck on my cheek. "Don't want to break your precious little ass."
I could only roll my eyes as I flashed him a smile, before opening the door. The two of us walked down to the corridor headed towards the infirmary.
It felt like the longest walk, despite the fact that I've walked the same route so many times.
Despite my nervousness, I was glad that Leslie was back to being his usual self.
That was enough for me.