Chapter 25

We returned home late in the afternoon. While Brenda sorted out the shopping, I left the house with a large carrier bag and gathered some food for Twig. I brought it back for him, just as Brenda was preparing some soup for our dinner. We weren't going to be eating too ambitiously for a while, so we needed to adjust. Vegetable soup was a good start, but I knew it wouldn't fully fill the hole in my stomach.

Twig scarfed down the bark the moment it was set down before him. Eating something other than damp sawdust lifted his mood considerably, but there was still a sense of great inner pain that radiated from him. I sat with him until dinner was ready, watching the news reports come in, since he refused to watch anything else.

"Humans scared." He summarised as we watched another panel discussion.

"Well, there is a war going on." I pointed out.

He looked to me. "What happen after war, Steven?"

I shrugged. "If we win? I don't really know. Perhaps we try to live normally again. Brenda and I could get new jobs, maybe a new house…"

Twig paused, and his eyes focused again on the television. "Humans talk on TV earlier. Talk about Hork-Bajir."

"Oh yeah?" I perked up. "And what did they say, Twig?"

"One Human say things about Hork-Bajir. Say bad things."

I sighed. Twig often came up with such little things to worry about, but this was a new one. "I wouldn't worry about it, Twig. People are panicking. Some are bound to say stupid things."

"Twig stay with Steven and Brenda?" He asked, and I saw the fear returning to his eyes. "Twig be taken away again?"

I shook my head and smiled at him. "They won't take you away. Humans aren't Yeerks." I reassured him, though deep down inside I wasn't quite so sure of myself.

To my surprise, Twig saw through it. "Steven say to Twig before: Some Humans bad. Not all football players. Not all singers. What if bad Human comes?"

I shuddered inwardly, but I had to keep him reassured. "Twig, we will do anything we can to protect you. Believe me, we've sacrificed enough already to make sure that you are safe."

"Thank you." He smiled, finally looking a little more certain.

"I'm sure Humans will come to accept your people," I said. "You just wait and see."

We finished our conversation, and I left Twig with the television to check up on Brenda. She was just finishing up the soup and serving it into two dinner bowls. I sliced up some French bread and helped lay out the dinner table.

Brenda was suspiciously silent, and as we sat down to start our soup, I began to understand why. This was where we would host the talk that had been hanging on our tongues since we fled the Yeerk base. She dipped a slice of bread in her soup and sighed.

"So…" She began. "We finally have some time to talk."

"I guess so." I replied.

She let go of her bread, letting it sink to the side of the dinner bowl. "I want to say thank you."

"Thank you?" I raised an eyebrow. "What for?"

She smiled. "For helping us to escape the Yeerk pool. For speaking to Twig. For… being there for me last night."

I didn't really know what to say, so I took a sip of my dinner instead, keeping my eyes locked on her.

"I don't know quite what happened to you in the last few weeks," She continued. "Perhaps I don't want to know, but… you've changed."

I didn't really feel in the mood for soup anymore. I set down my spoon and pushed the bowl away. "I don't think anyone can remain unchanged after that."

Brenda nodded and looked me firmly in the eyes. "I thought I was going to die in that place, Steven. I thought maybe we would never see each other again, and…" Tears began welling up in her eyes, but she was trying to hold them back. "Sometimes that made me happy. I remembered our last moments together. I remember you trying to get us to leave, and I… I was too stupid to realise that perhaps you were being serious. I was too stubborn to believe you."

"Don't blame yourself for that, Brenda." I said. "You had every reason not to listen to me that night."

She wiped away a tear to gaze at me with narrowed eyes. There was something that she didn't quite believe or understand. "I thought we were over. I thought we could never be together again. But then Decran came. She took me home, and you were there."

"It wasn't me, Brenda." I said. "That was Yarfush."

"I know, I know." She sobbed. "But I didn't want to see you as one of them. Decran only made things worse."

A tinge of anger filled me. Perhaps I was fortunate to receive Yarfush. Decran never struck me as the kindest Yeerk around.

"I didn't feel much different," I told her. "I couldn't stand seeing you used like that. I couldn't stand Decran's gloating. I wanted to rip that slime right out of your head. I wanted to…" I stopped myself and let it hang.

"Then when… that night." Brenda said solemnly. "The wine night."

I nodded, but that was all I could muster.

"You were having an affair all along." She muttered sadly. "I had started to believe you when you said you weren't, but I was right all along, wasn't I?"

"I…" Something clogged my throat, and I tried to rub it away.

"How long?" Brenda pressed.

I couldn't bring myself to say, and I sat forward against the table, arms crossed in front of me.

Then something seemed to spark in the empty void that occupied my mind. I needed to tell her the truth. If we were to remain together, there needed to be honesty.

"Just under two years." I admitted ashamedly.

Brenda covered her eyes in her hands and began crying. I wanted desperately to comfort her, to wrap my arms around her shoulders, but I knew it would bring her no satisfaction. Eventually, she pulled her hands away, but her eyes remained glued to the table.

"Why, Steven? Why did you betray me like that, for a whole two years? Why Cindy?"

"Times were tough." I said. "You know that as well as I do. We had just moved house, I couldn't stand my job, and you…" I hesitated. "I didn't think you loved me anymore."

She released another sob, but to my surprise, her hands reached forward on the table in front of me. I moved my non-bandaged hand forward, and we held each other, our eyes finally meeting again.

"I did love you, Steven. I did." Her lower lip quivered. "You just frustrated me. You weren't the man I married anymore. You used to be so fun, and you were ambitious and trusting. Then you got your new job, and the money started to go elsewhere. You changed, for the worse."

I felt tears of my own roll down my cheek, but I wasn't ashamed like I would have been before. I let them drip. "How?" I asked sincerely. "How did I change?"

"You lost all the fun. You didn't want to do anything anymore. You just wanted to sit in front of the TV. You wouldn't spend any time with me. You became so bitter and hateful. Suddenly all the world was spiting you. Nothing was good, everything was an annoyance."

All I could do was nod. She was right. For so long I simply lost interest in having fun, or doing things for the sake of others. I had become a sarcastic, sour man, and I knew that all too well.

"I hate to admit it, Steven, but Decran was right when she told you that I couldn't stand being around you. You weren't the person I loved anymore…"

"I know," I conceded. "And I'm sorry."

"And then the whole Cindy thing…" She clasped her face in her hands again and spoke through her fingers. "I lost all my trust in you."

My hand retook hers and clasped them a little tighter. I didn't want to let go. "And now? Is there anything left between us?"

Her reddened, watery eyes caught mine for the last time during that meal. "I don't know."

Dinner was finished in a contemplative silence. Our minds were such a cruel mix of emotions that we couldn't decipher them enough to express ourselves. I wanted so desperately for her to trust me again, but our revealed secrets had driven us even further apart. Helping her to escape the Yeerk base and being there for her and Twig in the aftermath had simply confused her. Could I really be there to protect her?

She said that I had changed. I knew that I had changed all those years ago, but had she seen further change in me? Had my experiences over the last few weeks altered my person? Had Brenda found something new in me that could make her trust me again?

My affair had really upset her, but my honesty in explaining why I felt the need to search for love elsewhere was something else she seemed to appreciate. I couldn't really tell if she hated me for it, or whether she felt reassured that I had gotten over it enough to explain my actions sincerely.

Either way, it wouldn't matter. We were stuck together for an unknown period of time now. We only had each other and Twig for company. This was no time to be alone.

We were in the bedroom later that evening, sorting through piles of fresh laundry. Chores nowadays were suddenly a welcome comfort, and we heartily indulged them enough to share them.

We talked a lot about nothings for a while, and Brenda put on a brave face, but there was always a hint of sadness in her voice. She was still churning dreadful thoughts in her head, but like me she realised that in times like these, there was little point in separating ourselves further.

"Are you going to sort out dinner tomorrow, then?" Brenda asked during the conversation we were having.

I grinned. "Maybe we should let Twig make dinner again."

"Bark curry?" She retorted. "No thanks. You may be shocked to hear this, but I think you're a better cook. Just a little better…"

"Maybe if we actually taught him, instead of letting him pick up his recipes from commercials, he could cook something bearable," I suggested. "And just a little better?"

She shook her head and finished folding some clothes away into the bedside drawers. "We can't really afford to have him ruin our meals. We haven't got enough food in the house to waste."

My smile faded. "How long can we last on what we've got right now?"

"If we don't get bombed or raided by police offices, one or two weeks. After that, we'll have to head into town again."

I sighed heavily. "I'm not sure if we could just go over to the next town. The place was basically dead today. No one will be there in two weeks. Everyone's heading to Nevada or further north into California, and there's no way we're getting that far."

She considered, and then stared at me slyly. I knew what she was silently implying.

"You want to steal goods?" Then I paused and mulled it over. "Sounds like a good idea. We may even be able to find a car."

"Who's going to stop us?" She asked. "Who would care?"

"The police." I suddenly realised. "The military and all the others. They're still around you know, looking for Yeerks. You don't think they would arrest us?"

Her eyes dropped, disappointed. "You're right."

I finished up my share of this particular chore and stared at her from across the room. "It's risky, I know, but maybe it's our only option."

She looked up again, quizzically. "What?"

"We'll go next week." I smiled. "I'm sure we could get away with it if we're careful, and anyway, we can't go on without food. Either we give it a try, or we revert to Twig's diet of bark and souls." I joked.

Her confused expression flickered to a brief smile, but then she blanked and looked away. "We can't go on living like this, Steven."

"I know," I agreed. "Do you think we should just hand ourselves in?"

She glared in return, perturbed by the idea. "We can't. We have Twig. I can't stand the thought of losing him again."

I held out my hands defensively. "Don't worry, I wasn't suggesting we throw him out or anything. All I'm saying is that sooner or later, we're going to need to do something about this situation. We can't live out the rest of our lives scavenging through dumpsters and stealing cars. If this war ever ends and we somehow win, people will come back. We won't even be able to scavenge anymore. Someday, we'll be taken in for the required three days."

"Things may change by then." She mumbled, though her words sounded doubtful.

"We just have to hope, I suppose."

Brenda narrowed her eyes at me again suspiciously. I ignored it, and we both made our way downstairs. On the way down, we discussed how we would spend the rest of the week, and as we entered the kitchen our options came down to either spending the rest of the days sitting around aimlessly, pitying ourselves, or just sitting around aimlessly and wasting our eyesight on the television. With no car, we were almost completely isolated, so it came as no surprise that there was nothing to do.

We turned the corner to the living room in the midst of discussing tomorrow's dinner again, when we noticed Twig standing in the centre of the room, gaze fixed to the glass panel doors that led into the backyard.

Staring back at him was another Hork-Bajir, about ten feet from the doors. Brenda and I froze.

"Twig?" I whispered, announcing our presence. He turned his head to notice our arrival, then swivelled back to stare at the stranger outside.

No one really knew what to do. As far as I and Brenda knew, this new Hork-Bajir posed no danger, so we couldn't really justify shooing it off. It was hard to tell quite what was going through Twig's mind, and even he seemed flustered.

The strange Hork-Bajir was the first to make a decision. A goofy smile appeared on its face, and it strolled in Twig's direction.

Right into the glass door. It bounced off with a thud and appeared dazed for a few seconds. It shook its lizard head and approached the door again, with a little more caution this time.

Twig joined the approach, and the two stood inches apart, separated by the glass door that lay between them.

The new Hork-Bajir smiled, and twig smiled back. Then, from out of nowhere, three more of the fearsome creatures bounced down onto the lawn outside. They exchanged a few inaudible words with the first Hork-Bajir, and the four of them bounded off to the nearest wall of trees.

Twig's hands pressed to the glass, and he twisted to get a better view as they left. Within seconds, they had vanished from sight.

He remained at the doors for the rest of the day, even after we headed to bed. That night, he moved his blankets and water bowl right up to the glass, and slept under the moonlight. He was still there the next morning.

I thought we had a lot of hard decisions to make. Maybe Twig was going to make those decisions for us.