there was nothing to cook with. He'd forgotten it, or else not yet remembered.
"Smells good," he said. The other man shrugged and flipped the packet of ivy leaves onto its other side. Ramon could see his twin start to say something and then stop. It occurred to him that the meal hadn't been meant for two, but the other man was too embarrassed now to refuse to share. Ramon rubbed his hands together, squatted close to the fire, and grinned.
"Lot of work to do," the other man said. "Looks like we got enough cane, though."
"I cut some last night," Ramon said. "Some iceroot leaves for bedding and to make the roof. Then a few good branches for the fire pit. I figure we can get the sand from down on the river. Find a sandbar. That'll be better than just mud from the bank. And firewood."
"Yeah," the other man said. He plucked the ivy leaves out of the coals with his left hand, tossing the bundle up and down a little to keep his fingers from burning until it cooled. A few moments later, he cut it in half with the field knife - Ramon realized that the man had taken it from him while he slept - and sliced the packet in two. He handed Ramon the one with the fish's head.
The nuts were oily and soft. The fish's skin had hardened and cracked, thin as paper and salty. Its flesh was dark and flaky. Ramon sighed. It was good to eat something he hadn't had to prepare himself. He was glad the other man had been too chickenshit to refuse to share.
"How do you want to split this up?" the other man asked, gesturing at the pile of reddened cane with the knife. "You want to make the lean-to, and I'll go find the leaves? Maybe some good branches?"
"Sure," Ramon said, wondering as he did whether there was an angle he was overlooking. Gathering leaves and sticks was easier than construction, but he was the one with both hands to work with. And his twin had gotten up early to make the food. It almost made up for not taking the second watch. Without discussion, they both went to the river and washed their hands. The other man's hand looked worse than Ramon remembered it, but his twin didn't complain.
"I want you to know something," the other man said as he rewrapped his palm and the remaining fingers.
"Yeah?"
"I know we're in this together, you and me. And the work you do - getting the sug beetles, building the raft, all that shit? It's better with the two of us than just one, you know? But if you go through my pack one more time without asking, I'll kill you in your fucking sleep. Okay, partner?"
His twin locked eyes with him - irises so dark Ramon couldn't make out the pupils, the whites bloodshot and yellow as old soap. He didn't think for a second that the man was joking. Now that he thought about it, he knew what he'd think of some half-assed banker pawing through his stuff. He wondered if this was what it was going to be like, going back. Maybe he'd resent his twin having all his things. His knife, his pack. Even Elena, maybe.
"Okay," Ramon said. "I just didn't want to leave the knife dull, you know. It won't happen twice."
The other man nodded.
"I do need it, though," Ramon said. "The knife. I've got to strip bark to tie the cane with. And if I need to cut more ..."
He shrugged. The other man growled without making a sound, and Ramon braced himself for violence. But the other man only spat into the water and handed the blade over, handle-first.
"Thanks," Ramon said, and tried for a placating smile. The other man didn't answer. Ramon went back to their little camp, the other man tramping off into the forest, presumably to gather the leaves and wood. Ramon waited until he was sure he was out of earshot before he muttered, "And fuck you too, ese ."
Ramon began working after the other man left. He got enough ivy and stripped bark to complete the design he thought would work best for the lean-to, then hauled the cane to the raft and the river. He saw at once that his first thoughts on how best to connect the shelter to the body of the raft had been optimistic. He had to spend an hour redesigning the thing.