The Gardens are boring...but they're safe.
Things had to be moved around, a bit; a couple of boys got moved to doing harder work, and Alby, Newt, and Zart, all assigned me to things like planting, weeding, and picking.
Sometimes, Arti helps us. But she's a little girl, with a somewhat short attention span, and she tends to like to play.
She should.
There's not much we can give her, here, but the Builders cut up some boards in to blocks for her, and the Runners, with some reluctance, give her two sheets of paper a day—she's careful with them, covering the back and front in drawings and the few words she knows, but she's beginning to understand.
It's hard for her, but I've done my best to make it easier. I give her all the love and affection I can, taking extra time every morning to do her hair a different way. She likes braids the best, but I change it, so I can spend time with her. The boys don't begrudge me.
They love Arti, too.
Newt, especially, seems fond of her. Every day, around lunch, he drops all his obligations and spends an hour with her. At first, it was because she needed someone to trust, someone to play with, and I was still learning—Zart spent a week teaching me thoroughly, so that, if I needed, I could take care of anything within the Gardens without help.
But now, it's because she asks for him, and even Alby can't deny the sweet-faced little girl just one hour.It's mostly the same, every time, but Arti loves it. She loves him, I'm certain; I've seen them running through the Gardens—his limp seems utterly forgotten when he's with her—with Arti squealing and giggling, Newt pretending to just miss her. I've seen them play hide and seek behind corn stalks and between rows of bushy plants, and I've watched Newt roll in the grass with her.
It's perfect, because, after that, and lunch, she's ready for a little nap, and she snuggles up on his hoodie and dozes off in the sun.
I can hear Arti laughing, and I'm certain the rest of the Glade feels the same—her laughter brings a joy to the place that I'm certain couldn't have been there before. I've even seen sour-faced Alby and Gally smiling at her, in a break when they can watch their second-in-command chasing a tiny figure across the grass.
But their hour of play is at an end, and Alby calls for lunch, and we all head for the kitchen.
Things have improved. I'm not sure if it's because of Arti, or if it's because I've learned to accept a lot of things here. Everyone is nice to me, and everyone loves Arti. Everyone is working harder, and the place looks a little neater than before. And Frypan, one of the sweetest of us, always saves an apple for Arti.
I blame Newt for that—she loves them.
I meet them at the corner of the Gardens, and Newt has her in his arms, breathing hard, but his eyes are lit up, delighted, and Arti is snuggled in to him. He's grinning when he sees me, "She's getting faster," he says, laughing.
I grin at him, and then at her, and I lean in close, kissing the back of her head—her hair is split in to two thick braids, trailing over the front of her shoulders. "I swear, I think she actually likes you chasing her around like you're both crazy," I reply, teasing.
He grins at me, delighted, and laughs. "I hope so, or she's a good little actress," he says, and he jostles her up carefully. She sighs, nuzzling in to his neck, looking exhausted already. "Tired?"
"Mm-hmm," she hums, and her arms tighten around his neck. "Thank you for playing with me."
It never fails—Arti always thanks him, every day, for playing with her. I think she knows how much he works. He does a little of everything; he does what he has to, goes where he's needed, and Newt is a favorite of everyone. I agree with them. I think I might love him a little bit, if only for how much he cares about Arti...for how much he takes care of her. Shuck, I think I might love him because of how much Arti loves him.
