Across the Water

Chapter 4

168 hours

Nine

I don't trust the water coming out of this shitty little spigot.  The spigot itself is only a few inches off the ground and you can only get a dribble out of it at best.  We use the water for cooking, washing our hands and dishes, and drinking.  We've been boiling the water we drink and cook with, but I don't do it to wash the dishes because I'm lazy.  I probably should, but it takes ages for any water to come out of this stupid thing and I don't want to waste gas on our stove.  But it leaves the dishes smelling like mildew and I'm highly suspicious.  We're able to wash our armpits well enough, but we're all starting to smell a tad funky, but not desperate enough to go and find the lake that's hiding around here somewhere.  It shouldn't be far.  I think I saw a bit of it when we were biking up here.

I'm cooking breakfast as usual, but I pretend not to notice when I see both Lisa and Twelve emerge together from his tent.  That didn't take long.

I mean, it's not like I'm totally surprised.  He's always been the affectionate type.  And when Lisa was staying in our apartment he snuck into her cot all the time.  This hasn't changed since he was young and would pester me at the Settlement.  Twelve just doesn't like being alone, but it's fine with me if he's found somebody else to be on the receiving end of his affection.  It's fine, I tell myself, totally fine.

But right now it looks like he's holding a bunch of papers.

Both he and Lisa sit down very close on either side of me on the dead grass and I can't help but feel like this is some sort of intervention.  Twelve reaches across me and turns off the stove. "How about let's not have any fire right now."

"That was our food!"  I yell.  It's too early for his shit.  I take off my glasses and massage my temples. 

"Before you get mad, I just want you to hear me out," Twelve begins.  The way he's introducing whatever he's about to say already has me pissed, but he looks serious for once in his goddamn life so I'm inclined to let him continue.

I pinch the bridge of my nose.  "Alright, what?"

"Remember when you threw your file?" Twelve reminds me. "When I was putting it back together, I noticed a few things looked off.  I...took those papers.  And I found some information that will surprise you.  I also think there are a few things we should do about it." He hands me the pages and allows me to look through them.  My jaw ticks when I reach the drawing of the cabin.

"You took my paperwork?  And you took my art? That shit's private, Twelve."

He looks a little sheepish, but continues on.  He tells me about how the locations of the fires and my drawing don't make sense, and about how I, according to my file, was absent the day of the lake house fire.

"Okay," I say evenly.

Twelve and Lisa share an uneasy look.

"Clearly some secretary somewhere along the line forgot to drink their coffee and mislabeled the file because there is no way I couldn't have seen the fire," I reason.  "Unless you're saying you doubt my memories." I strike another match and turn the stove back on.

"We're not.  We're saying that more truth exists than is written here, and what you remember proves it.  We want to try to find your grandmother, and she lives on the shores of the lake that's near here.  Let's go." Twelve pokes a finger into my side and I flinch.  "It'll be fun," he adds.

I stir the warming oatmeal.  "I'm not interested," I clip. "Her house burned down, I doubt she's there.  Do you want to risk exposure? Wasn't it your idea to be found here by Shibazaki in the first place?"