Event Horizon

Chapter 10

"Excuse the mess."

Liesel tried to restrain her unease as she clicked on the light.

"It's the only other room in the house that has a bed, I'm sorry."

"Isn't this a four-bedroom house?"

"I use the other ones for storage. My bad," she said, exasperatedly.

"Who lived here?"

"Son of a friend. Left for college."

"And he didn't bring any of this with him?"

"Suitcase small. He says he'll get new stuff at the town he's staying at."

Liesel noticed Mathilda's hesitance. "It's fine if you wanna move things around. He won't know we've gone through his room anyways. Sorry it's a little..." She tilted her head left, then right. "... yeah."

"I've seen worse."

Mathilda picked up a cube and turned it around. She faced a side, completely white, towards herself. "What's this?"

"An old puzzle. Was her son's favourite; I don't understand how someone could be so in love with a little box for so long."

Gently, Liesel removed it from Mathilda's hand. She set it atop a walnut drawer, swiping some dust out of the way. "I don't know how to solve it. I've gotten close, but I make one turn and it undoes three others."

Mathilda sat down, moving her windbreaker from underneath her as she patted the white linen. A particular hotel she had relied on for a hefty number of days jumped at her straight out of her memory; how disquieting it was when the sorest fret she had on her mind was how she would live tomorrow out.

It was two-o'clock. She stuck out two of her fingers, counted them, then picked away at the skin of the base of the pointer's tip. Once, she picked at it so hard it cracked open and bled.

"I'm staying here, yes?"

"If you'd like."

"I'd be in your debt. Could I pull back the curtains? The shade makes it hard to think."

"Go right ahead, Mattie. It's a wonderful day outside. You ever try to do a little forecasting yourself? I learned how to read the clouds when I was fourteen– never forgot it."

"Not really, no, it's beyond my control. Whatever happens is whatever will happen."

"Do you not worry for your future?"

"I worry about what I can do."

"Oh."
Liesel bent down to pick some specks of dark material: loose fabric pills, dirt, and dried residue bits from leaky pens. "My luck takes me pretty far, I'd say. What would you do if the universe spat on your face?"

"Nothing." Mathilda bent her fingers back, then her elbows– as far back as she felt they were able to move. The crackle gave the back corner of her brain a well-needed scratching.

"What would you do if I spat on your face?"

"I'd spit on you right back."

Liesel did not disturb her friend until time came when dinner was appropriate. She cooked a simple meal of two carrots, chopped up, served onto a plate of rice, and chicken. Every other supper she prepared was never consistent in its taste; if, in retrospect, she felt one was too salty and adjusted her next one accordingly, she would always find the plainness overbearingly dull.

She set the glasses of water upside down– an old trick she'd employ to hack a chuckle out of most anybody. When it worked, it was much easier for her to eat.

"The spices are in the cupboard above the sink if you need them. Enjoy," she said, centering the base of the serving dish with the doily, where a glass vase of roses would usually stand.

"Thank you." Mathilda helped herself to a child's share of the food.
"Does the disease bother you at all? I've asked others about it and they're calm; I mean, I suppose it's useless to hang yourself on tenterhooks about something as long as you're not doing anything wrong, but I thought people liked rolling around in fear."

"Dewsbury's a bit's away. I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Diseases spread, Liesel. Doesn't that scare you?"

"It's got a bit of distance. I can't seem to care about it, I'm sorry."

She paused to scrape more chicken broth into the rice. "Does the air bother you? I know that's something that'll screw us all over– nobody's immune to inhaling more trash than oxygen."

"A little. But unless there's someone out there fighting tooth and nail against it, we've kind of brought it upon ourselves."

"I am doing something though."

"Is it the right thing?"

Liesel didn't know how to answer that question.