Dust and Decay (Benny Imura 2)

“I thought that if you had courage you always had it.”

The Greenman laughed out loud. The cat, who had been dozing, opened one eye and glared at him for a moment, then went back to sleep. “Lilah, nothing is always there. Not courage, not joy, not hate or hope or anything else. We find courage, lose it, sometimes misplace it for years, and sometimes live in its grace for a while.”

She digested this as she worked. “What about love? Is that elusive too?”

“I have two answers for that,” he said, “though there are probably more. One answer is the big answer. Love is always there. It lives in us. In all of us. Even Charlie Pink-eye, bad as he was, loved something. He loved his friend Marion Hammer. He had a family. He had a wife, once. Before First Night. Everyone loves. But that’s not what you meant and I know it. The other answer, the smaller answer, is that when we love something we don’t always love it. It comes and goes. Like breath in the lungs.”

“I don’t understand love.”

“Sure you do,” said the Greenman. “Tom told me about Annie, and about George. I met George once, a long time ago, when he was out looking for you. He was a good man. A genuine person, do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes.” Tears glistened in the corners of her eyes.

“He loved you, and I believe—I know—that you loved him. Just as you loved Annie. No, you understand love just fine, Lilah.”

She said nothing.

“Or do you mean another kind of love?” he asked, arching one eyebrow. “Boy-girl love? Is there someone you love? Is there someone who loves you?”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “There is a boy named Lou Chong.”

“Benny Imura’s friend? Tom told me about him, too. A smart boy.”

“He can be stupid, too!” Her words were quick, and she stopped and shook her head again. “In town … Chong is smart. He knows science and books and stars and history. I can talk to him. We talked on his porch, at nights. Every night since I lived there. Seven months. We talked about everything.”

“He sounds nice.”

“He is … but out here … he isn’t smart.” She threw down the tweezers. The cat gave a disgusted grunt, stood up, turned around, and lay back down.

“Tell me,” said the Greenman as he reached over, picked up the tweezers, and handed them to her. After a long pause, she took them.

Lilah told him everything that had happened since Tom led them out of town. By the time she was done, all the flower petals had been plucked and were floating in water.

“If Chong loves you,” said the Greenman, “do you love him?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped, then, more softly, “I don’t know how to.”

The Greenman chuckled. “You wouldn’t be the first to feel that, but maybe the first to admit it. So … what does this have to do with running away from Benny and Nix? Take a breath. Think about it. Answer when it feels right.”

She took the breath. “Benny kept saying that Chong ran away because of me. That I made him because of what I said.”

“What did you say?”

“Back on the road … I told Chong that …” She wiped her eyes. “I told him that he was a stupid town boy and he shouldn’t be out here. I wanted him to go home. I told him to go home. Then, when Benny told me it was my fault … I … it made me forget how to use my spear. Or my gun. My hands wouldn’t think anymore.” She shook her head. “I’m not making sense.”

“Yes,” said the Greenman, “you are.”

“I made Chong run away.”

The Greenman leaned on his forearms and regarded her with a kindly smile. “A wise man once said that we can’t make anyone feel or do anything. We can throw things into the wind, but it’s up to each person to decide how they want to react, where they want to stand when things fall. Do you understand?”

She shook her head.

“It’s about responsibility. Chong felt responsible for what happened. Your words didn’t force him to run away.”

“I wish I could … un-say them.”

“Yep. I’m sure. But it’s still on Chong; it was his choice to run. He could have stayed, no matter what you said. Just as you could have stayed after what Benny said. It doesn’t make it right that hard words were said, but it doesn’t make you or Benny wrong for saying them. That’s yours to settle with yourself. Chong chose his path. Benny chose his when he spoke. You chose yours when you ran.”