Grace
“We’ve reached another village but this one is smaller than the last, smaller than any of the others I’ve seen. Smaller and more desperate, hands pressed against the train windows before we’ve even stopped.
I watch Jerusha, but he does nothing, gestures for no one. He doesn’t even buy anything, just keeps touching his collar, and so I take out the last of the coins Chris gave me.
I lean toward the window, toward the outstretched hands pressed against it, and Jerusha puts his hand on my arm.
“We ...aren’t supposed to stop here,” he whispers.
I look at him and realize he is afraid. Under the softness that hides a heart that would let him watch his parents die, under the iciness and frighteningly, sharply acute tongue—under all of that is something human.
He fears for himself, for he is trying to escape as well, and for now I am safe with him because of that.
I must also show him that he cannot rule me. I am done being what others will.
I lower the window and argue with a tall, bone-thin man over the price of a bottle of mint tea.MoreLess
I watch Jerusha, but he does nothing, gestures for no one. He doesn’t even buy anything, just keeps touching his collar, and so I take out the last of the coins Chris gave me.
I lean toward the window, toward the outstretched hands pressed against it, and Jerusha puts his hand on my arm.
“We ...aren’t supposed to stop here,” he whispers.
I look at him and realize he is afraid. Under the softness that hides a heart that would let him watch his parents die, under the iciness and frighteningly, sharply acute tongue—under all of that is something human.
He fears for himself, for he is trying to escape as well, and for now I am safe with him because of that.
I must also show him that he cannot rule me. I am done being what others will.
I lower the window and argue with a tall, bone-thin man over the price of a bottle of mint tea.MoreLess
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