Chapter Three:Rhode

For hours, it seemed like, we sat there. The dirty light of the sun began to filter into the hole, illuminating her face. We sat there and stared, eyes locked in a gaze that lasted for minutes. Pure astonishment, spiced with joy but soaked with fear, were her eyes. To decode to emotions was a rusty skill, and one I felt suddenly uncomfortable using, and I looked away, into the scarred rubble of the room. Suddenly, she stood and walked over to me, her face inches from mine. From her side came a clenched fist, and she piled it into my jaw, the unexpected blow knocking me on my ass.

At first I was confused, dazed on the floor. But it started to come to me, understanding. I shot her. Looking up, she simply stood there, staring back down at my freshly bruised chin. Anger and confusion flushed across her face, and she turned around, looking sheepishly embarrassed and infuriated. She stomped out of the hole, out into the dirty air. I anxiously rubbed my chin, feeling the bump that was starting to form. There was power behind that blow, despite the frail appearance of her arms.



I could still see her standing outside, fuming and awkward. She was constantly rubbing her hands through her hair, combing through it with her fingers. She! I couldn't believe it, only gawk, but it was undeniable. There was a woman here, unnamed and alone, who wasn't hostile or angry. It was a concept I would have to learn to swallow. I stood up, feeling a new urge to pat the dust off my jeans and straighten my hair, to look presentable, I mused. It was a ridiculous concept. Hearing my footfalls, she turned around, analyzing my face. She didn't look like she expected me to be angry, which ticked me off in a way, just perplexed, searching for words.



"My name is Rhode", she said. The girl shifted her weight unto her left hip and awkwardly waited, staring at me. After a few dozen seconds, she began to look confused. I was still preparing the words in my head. "My name is Lead", I replied. She seemed to feel the sound of my name in her mouth, not liking the taste. The awkward silence fell unto my shoulders again. I probed my mind for the right phrase, the right connections of sound to make this conversation work. In the end, I vocalized my most prominent emotion. "I'm hungry."