he said. ‘It is perfectly safe.’
I placed you gently upon the grass, and lay down beside you with one hand near your face.
‘Have you named him?’ whispered Jorne.
The reeds creaked and shuffled somewhere far away.
My name is Japanese. I chose it for its meaning: now, which is the only thing that exists. Yours I chose for a sound that brought you comfort.
‘Reed,’ I said. ‘His name is Reed.’
My eyelids felt heavy, so I closed them.
TWO YEARS
— NINETEEN —
I HAVE SEEN humans before.
Let me tell you about tea.
Tea is a drink which I enjoy. You allow me to drink it now, although for a long while you did not; once you began to move around—crawling at first, then dragging yourself along on your rear-end in the manner of a dog cleaning its back passage, followed, finally, by something approaching ambulation—the level of my engagement required to keep you safe prohibited the completion of most tasks, including personal nourishment and hydration.
I became a bodyguard of sorts, protecting you as you explored the numerous corners of your small world. You banged into tables, toppled chairs, pulled blankets from beds, reached for boiling cups, fiddled with doors. Our forest walks became exercises in survival training. You would run, giggling towards sheer drops or deep pools and I would be forced to leap after you, snatching you before gravity could.
I took care not to show you too much, remembering what my mother had said. I moved only as swiftly as required. I knew this subterfuge would grow more difficult as you integrated with others, but for now it was just you and me. And sometimes Jorne.
The morning after Fane’s mob had descended upon me, I woke to the smell of smoke. Jorne was nowhere to be found, but he had set a fire for us and left a jug of milk and a brace of herring smoking on a pole. The rain had gone, and I watched the bright blue, windless sky, eating the fish and drinking cool stream water while you slept. You were more peaceful than I had ever thought possible.
It was mid-morning when we returned to Fane. Niklas looked awkward in the square.
‘Ima,’ he said. ‘I am sorry for last night. I do not know what happened.’
I steadied my gaze, though his flitted about. He was hardly able to meet my eyes.
‘Where are the others?’
‘Most are still asleep.’
‘Even Magda?’
He looked to the floor.
‘I do not know about Magda.’
I took a breath. You lay quietly in my arms.
‘You were tired. It is to be understood.’
‘It is not. We behaved terribly. I feel shame, Ima. Are you all right? Is… it…?’
He looked down at you. Though Niklas did not know it himself, I saw shreds of the very same malice in his eyes I had seen the previous night. I inched back.
‘I assure you we are fine,’ I said. ‘And thank you for your apology, but it is clear to me that we cannot stay here.’
He frowned, though I saw relief too.
‘Where will you go?’
‘We must stay in Fane, but I will build a new dwelling. Technically it will be within the settlement’s borders, but far enough away to guarantee rest. At least for you.’
‘Where?’
‘I know of a place.’
He nodded.
‘I will help you. We will—’
‘Thank you.’ I turned to leave. ‘But I do not need your help.’
I set to work that day hauling timber from the forest to the bank within the rocks. I worked with you upon my back. You were at peace in your sling, absorbed in the sound and light of the trees, and the motion of my exertion. At night we camped by the river. We did not see Jorne, but in the mornings I sometimes found more herring, or fruit, or vegetables, and always a fresh fire.
Soon I had created a cabin for us within the overhang. It had three rooms like our original house, and a plumbing system for waste which led to a small lagoon in which I cultivated my own form of broth. It was better, in my opinion, than that which came from Fane’s own lagoon. Richer and more nourishing.
But I was not talking about broth, I was talking about tea.
IF YOU DISCOUNT David, the technician who witnessed my birth, and Dr Nyström herself, whom I saw only briefly as I left to convene with my elders, siblings and cousins beyond her laboratory, the first human being I encountered was a bony old man on a broken pier. His name was Roop, and perhaps it