Resist

61 BEA

A girl arrives on-site with a small pot of cement powder and Maude squeals at her. “Are we building a house for leprechauns? I said we needed a barrel of the stuff, you nincompoop.”

“I’ll get more.” The girl scuttles away.

“Looks great,” I say. And it does. It’s the tenth dwelling we’ve built. At this rate we’ll have a place for everyone to sleep by summer. Maude rubs her nose along her sleeve.

“Where’s lover boy?” she asks.

“Mine or yours?”

“Oh, get out of it, Bruce and me’s just pals, that’s all.” Her skin burns red.

I take a few gulps of air from the facemask hanging around my neck. “We’ve had more petitions from Premiums asking to join the settlement. Have you time to interview them with me?” I look at the pod in the distance. It sparkles faintly. Now that people can come and go freely, and have seen what we’re building, they want to join us.

“I need to refill this,” Maude says, tapping her airtank. “I can meet ’em when I go to the recycling station.”

Dark clouds murmur. A droplet lands on my arm. “Rain,” I say, and smile.

“Oh yeah, the plants’ll love it, but what about me ’do ?” She pushes her scraggly hair behind her ears and pulls her hood over her head. She shuffles away toward the small hut we’ve built for Jo and her baby. Abel takes care of them, and maybe they’re a couple, but it doesn’t stop him visiting Alina’s grave every day. And he’s obsessed with planting. It’s because of him the nursery is blooming.

“Where’s she going?” Ronan asks, appearing on the half-finished roof of the building.

“You can’t work in the rain. Come down,” I tell him.

He waves away the suggestion and tightens the straps on his dungarees. Quinn is coming our way, and as he passes Maude, they exchange a few words before moving on.

He stands behind me, puts his arms around my waist, and nuzzles my neck. “Wanna take a trip into the city for a few days? Just the two of us,” he says.

I hold out my hand and allow the rain to pool in it. “We tried that once before and it didn’t work out,” I say.

“Just ’cuz something doesn’t work out the first time . . .” He trails off.

“Maybe we should invite Ronan, just in case,” I say. “Or Maude.” I laugh.

“We can handle it. We don’t need anyone else,” he says.

“Are you talking about me?” Ronan calls from the roof. He never stops working, and he’s been teaching me how to paint. When I spend time with him, Quinn is quietly jealous, but I suppose that’s okay. And normal.

“Quinn and I might take a trip. We wondered if you wanted to come with us,” I say.

He laughs loudly—sarcastically. “Yes, I’d love to join you on your snog-fest.”

“I promise we won’t make out at all,” Quinn says, and kisses the back of my neck.

“Stop slacking off,” Ronan says, and returns to work.

Quinn smiles and lets me go. “Do you want to see something?” he asks.

I follow him to the garden where Abel is on his knees in the dirt. “There,” Quinn says, pointing. I crouch and touch green shoots that have burst through the soil, clawing for light.

“Pear trees,” Abel says, smiling. “And I reckon the strawberries will be ready by summer.”

“At this rate, we might live another few years,” I say.

“We made it this far. It would be irresponsible to die now!” Abel says.

“I better get to it,” Quinn says, passing a trowel from hand to hand. “We have a lot to do.”

And he’s right. We all have a lot to do. A lot to learn. A lot still to be afraid of. But today, I’m glad of the rain on my hand and my own shallow breath.

The elements finally belong to us all.

And for now, that’s good enough.