NINE

The silence he leaves us in is thick and heavy. I have a few bites of food left, but I can’t stomach it. Instead, I ask the question I’m sure he already posed, the demand they were too ashamed to answer. “Do you both feel this way also?”

Mikey sighs, but shakes his head. “Chernobyl doesn’t belong to anyone. I knew what I was agreeing to, Little Fox.” The inflection he puts on the pet name is to try and make me feel better, but it does the opposite. I just get sicker.

When I turn the question to Nico, he takes a bit longer to offer his answer. “I have the same worries as Lex. But also, I trust. You are Stalker now, like Mikey said. It is not the same.”

Their reassurance does nothing for me though. I’m embarrassed and ashamed. “He’s right,” I say, finally putting my food down and rising to collect the cup that Lex had kicked across the room. “You’re doing all this for me, when this was just a selfish whim to begin with. I was curious, that’s it. And a ‘story’ was just a good excuse, to feed that curiosity.”

They have nothing more to say. So, in the stifling silence, I move to dig through Lex’s bag and find a dinner packet. I wait for another bit of water to boil, then add it to the packet to let the meal cook, before heading out into the night after him, the warm packet in tow. 

I’m careful with the flashlight I take with me, pointing it down low to my feet, save for the brief moments I flash it ahead of me as I look for him. It takes a few minutes, but I spot him finally, standing amongst a patch of densely growing trees, beyond them, what I can only identify as a series of crosses in various sizes.

He knows I’m there. I’m in no way stealthy or nimble like the animal he’s chosen to compare me to. My clumsy feet make it obvious as I approach. He ignores me though, even when I’m right beside him. So, I inspect the crosses instead.

A graveyard. Though, I’m not sure that’s the proper term when it’s so small. There are a few dozen markers, mostly wooden crosses but some headstones as well. A majority were small, and close together. It was unlikely there were many actual bodies here. 

Lex lingers in front of one with a legible name. Marta. A girl.

I dare to ask. “Do you know her?”

He turns to leave.

“Lex, please.”

He stops.

“You’re right.” I watch him turn his head a fraction back towards me, to listen. So, I turn off the flashlight, hoping to hide my shame in the lowlight of the moon, and I continue. “I don’t want to write anything about this if it’s going to ruin it. That’s not worth it. Especially for a job I don’t even like very much.”

He seems unimpressed so far with my statements, so I try to verbalize the thoughts that have been knocking around inside my head.

“It was selfish and ignorant of me to not even consider how inherently different this experience is for me than for you. This might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, ever will do, in my life. But, it’s still easier, because I know I have somewhere to go home to after.”

The same darkness hiding my shame kept it difficult to read him. I think I see the sit of his shoulders ease a little though.

“So, I’m sorry, Lex. And, if you don’t want me to tell this story, I won’t.” This time, I bridge the space between us, careful not to disrupt the graves I step past to get there. Once I’m right behind him, I dare to be more bold. “But, you know… I’m not here because of Natalie, or Mikey taking her money, or even because of my own stupidity and naivety.”

Finally, he shifts, unable to ignore his own curiosity with that last statement. I’m glad he’s listening. I’m glad I can see the contour of his jaw under the mask from here. I want to see his full reaction, but this will have to be enough.

“I’m here because of you.” I deliver a secret truth, and when I say it, I watch his eyes widen a fraction, and blink. Like he never expected such boldness. 

I’d never expect it either. I am generally a soft-spoken person. And I certainly never wanted to admit such a thing to Lex, who had a big enough head to begin with. But, it twisted around my throat until it had to be said. Until I couldn’t not, especially after the unfair judgment he’d just put us all through. I desperately hold onto the confidence before it slips away from me, under his hard stare. “You didn’t have to stop, that day. You didn’t have to let me take that picture. You didn’t have to give me a glimpse of something… else. So, please don’t act like you’re blameless in all this. I’m here because of you. Only you.”

When he still doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, doesn’t react, I reach out for his forearm, twist, and set the food I prepared for him in his open grasp. 

I wait for him to close his fingers around it before letting go. Then, I make sure he hears the reoccurring mantra I’ve been thinking but was too nervous to speak previously. Before we separate, I let it slip out. “You don’t know me, either.”

I don’t wait for his reaction. Even if I could see it clearly I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it. Instead, I depart immediately, back to the shack, hoping something I said made some kind of difference. 

The other boys are arranging themselves with their sleeping bags when I return, a look of expectancy on their faces which slowly dissipates when it’s obvious I’ve come alone. I silently follow suit, unloading my bed mat and sleeping bag. 

We haven’t gotten a chance to properly settle down when Lex returns, masked, but with an empty dinner packet which he disposes of with the rest of the trash. The three of us stay silent, focusing on our sleeping set ups. 

I don’t want to stare, but I can’t help peeking at him as I roll out my bed mat, unzip my sleeping bag, change my socks to a fresh pair to keep my feet warm and dry. He doesn’t unpack his things, instead turning on his burner again and boiling some additional water. I wasn’t about to judge him for making more, maybe the food I’d made had gotten cold, or I didn’t cook it right. I hope I hadn’t ruined it like that. 

But he doesn’t pull out another food packet. Instead, when the water is steaming, he unwraps a teabag and steeps it in the water, then squeezes in something, a light brown cream from a small plastic packet with a screw top. 

I’m ready to sleep, so I try to ignore his rustling and tuck myself into my sleeping bag like the other boys, but before I can lay down, Lex has risen again, the cup of tea he just made held out in front of my face. 

An offering. An apology, maybe. 

I take it carefully, looking up to meet his gaze, but he’s avoiding giving it to me. Instead, once I have a grasp on the drink he made me, he moves back to his corner and grabs his bag, tossing it against the wall, closer to me, and starts unpacking his own sleeping gear there. 

I prop myself up against my own rucksack and watch him while blowing on the tea to cool it. I want to stay timid, because Lex feels paper thin right now, but I can’t help but hum when I finally take a drink; it’s warm and delicious. “What is this?”

“Condensed milk.” Lex crawls into his sleeping bag and settles back on his rucksack, only half upright. He still doesn’t give me his gaze, choosing instead to immediately close his eyes like it would somehow force himself to sleep. He’s close enough I could reach out and touch him if I want, though. 

“It’s really good. Thank you.” I choose to hide my face behind the tea instead.

Across the room, one of the already-bundled boys mutters a comment in Ukrainian. “Se pare că lupul este îmblânzit de vulpe…” I know it’s Mikey, because it’s Nico’s giggle that follows.

I don’t know what he said, but Lex responds by stretching a leg out and kicking Mikey’s feet roughly in punishment, before turning his back to me to sleep. 

I finish my tea in silence, then shift down into my sleeping bag also. I fall asleep watching Lex’s shoulders as they rise and fall with each breath.