We’re leaving today. I am mourning the loss of my pianos. I am mourning the loss of my manuscripts. I try to act normal around Gary, so when he asks if I’m off my period and we can make love, I say, “Maybe tomorrow.”
When he takes his loud morning shit, I gag.
When he says, “I think I was wrong about your weird music. You should be open to experiment here. Think outside the box. That’s the point, I guess.” I smile and act like he said something that pleased me.
On our walk to lunch, he says, “Why do you think those two came? They don’t belong here. This generation is lost.”
“People said that about our generation, too,” I say.
“This is different.”
“I don’t think it is,” I say. “I think the real world changed. I don’t think we’re the right people to debrief anyone who comes from it.” I add, “I think they’ll fit in fine here.”
“Marvin says the girl has potential, but she’s some sort of humanist.”
“Nothing wrong with that.”
“I don’t know,” he says.
I don’t think I ever heard Gary say I don’t know before.
“You’re not yourself.” I put my arm around his shoulder and he wraps his around my waist and to any onlooker we would look like friends or lovers when, really, I am a genius about to escape from a genius prison.
Lunch is uneventful. Gary has been east because I told him that was where I found Stanzi and Gustav. He didn’t even get a half mile into the forest, but he says there’s no sign of anyone walking out there. So now he’s planned a search involving all of us. Every direction. All day. All weekend if we have to, until we find the helicopter and destroy it. He doesn’t tell them about the destruction part, though.
He asks Gustav, “Do you think you can remember which way you walked into camp? Or which way Patricia brought you?”
Gustav says, “I’m pretty sure I know where we came in. I can show you.”
I discover Gary looking at me and I smile because I know I won’t see him tomorrow. I think of Kenneth and I smile even wider. I say to the new arrivals, “Before we go, let me show you the garden!”
On cue, the three of us stand up and put our plates and utensils in the sink.
In the garden I talk to Stanzi silently, in her head.
Me: We’re leaving today.
I know.
Me: I can’t thank you enough for rescuing me. I owe you my life.
She thinks, We’re rescuing you?