Migration

Refugees

The camp was up late again that night, though not with the music and laughter of the night before. This time, a sombre mood mingled with the night air and woodsmoke. Small groups sat around the fires that dotted the clearing like beacons, whilst others came together around tables or curled up on rugs in the warm chambers deep in the cave. Some spat angry words and punched out violent gestures that cast long and haunting shadows into the trees or across the cave walls. Others talked in hushed and secretive tones, frightened and timid nocturnal creatures with one ear scanning the forests from a fear that couldn't be placated. The rest sat quietly, with heads on shoulders and hands being held. Hair was smoothed gently from forehead to neck, as they thought of their loved ones who remained in the Metropolis or mourned helplessly in the tragedy of the loss of so many strangers.

As the night deepened, the murmur of voices faded along with the dimming fires left unattended once everything that could be said had been shared. The cave that had been home to the Lifers since Matthew's first steps inside it, wrapped gently around the group as one by one they settled into sleep, soothed by a lullaby of distant sobs that moved through the cave like a yawn before finally petering out. Every now and then David would shout out in his sleep, haunted by the faces of death and oblivion, and Jennifer would put her arm across him, letting the weight of her bones push him back to safety.

In the early morning, when troubled thoughts and endless circling questions forced Jennifer and a few others out of sleep, it was raining hard. They stood together in silence at the mouth of the cave, watching the water pummel the earth and bounce in countless tiny explosions off the rocks and stray possessions that lay randomly around the clearing. There would be little they could do today until the downpour passed, there would be no escape from the heavy gloom that glued them together in that space, until the rain let them out.

They ate breakfast and drank nettle tea there, the group growing by one or two every few minutes. Chairs were carried over, then a few tables with more food, blankets on knees, coffee, somebody even played some music. They sat there together for over an hour, a surprise audience in an enormous theatre, watching the morning perform a slow and meditative drama of light, movement and sound. Leaves shuddered and shimmered under the downpour, glimpses of muted daylight made the air roll through sharp and crystal vanillas to deep and dark mossy greens, and when the wind rushed across the clearing the rain clustered into giant chandeliers that swept across their view and down into the trees. Nobody spoke during their time in the mouth of the cave, there was no talking to be done. Soon though, they began to make little jokes with one another, stupid faces and childish games until smiles and giggles began to grow and the whole group was laughing hysterically together at the ridiculous moment they had made. Jennifer laughed too, an uncontrollable but silent belly laugh that she couldn't remember ever having done before, that made tears run down her cheeks and her ribs ache as if she had been punched. Other members of the group, awake now and puzzled by this bizarre scene approached them with confused expressions, smiling a little to join the fun, and that's when someone noticed Matthew. He was standing on the far side of the clearing, almost disappeared into the trees with his back to the cave, his arms clenched tightly to his chest, stamping his feet a little as if he was marching on the spot. The laughter stopped and a long awkward silence took its place.

"What's he doing?" someone finally asked.

They all looked at Jennifer.

"He goes there to think," she said, trying not to show her concern.

"In the pouring rain?" someone else came back. "Why is he standing like that?"

"He's fine!" she snapped. "I'll go talk to him."

Jennifer stood up from her chair and tucked it back against the cave wall. She wiped a remaining tear from her cheek and looked around for a raincoat to borrow.