She hadn’t thought of the girl in a long time. She hadn’t known what to think about her. But now, again, she felt a deep lonesomeness for Madeline, who probably had no idea how long it had been since she didn’t survive. What a sad thing, to have never been alive in this place.

Agnes stopped walking and looked around for Glen, suddenly wanting to hold his hand. But he was far back, behind the group, slowly making his way, his cough breaking the day’s silence to its own beat. He never wanted her to walk with him anymore. She knew he worried that he would hold her back. He knew she liked leading. She saw that it pained him to tell her no, so she had stopped asking. She watched him scanning the landscape. He knew where they were too. She began to walk again. They walked down and up and down and up to their first home, the place the lazy river slithered through, their lovely hidden Valley.

Their old camp was lush and overgrown like it had been when they first arrived. Before they’d trampled certain grasses, or harvested too many dry sage branches for tanning. It really did look better without them there, Agnes thought. She felt a wave of regret that they had returned. But then her stomach danced and warmed because being back felt so nice.

She had carried the tools so she brought them over to the natural ring of stones and set up their work area. She saw Glen setting up their bed where they’d always put their sleep circle. It would need to be bigger this time, with the Newcomers. A few Newcomers joined him. Frank, Patty’s mom, and Linda. Then Carl and Val walked up, and they were all talking with Glen. Poor Glen, Agnes thought. He was so small and skinny compared to the rest of them. So bent while they stood so straight. From their circle she heard his hacking cough. It was as though his lungs never cleared out the excess moisture from the dank forest. In his sleep, Agnes would nudge him over onto his side. Something her mother would do for her when she was ill. Or put her bag under his head to elevate him so the phlegm couldn’t gather and pool. When they walked, he was mostly fine. Moving helped. The worst time was when he lay down at night. Then, he sputtered like he was drowning in his own wet breaths.

What are they talking about? Agnes wondered. She set up the smoker. Without consensus it was hard to figure out when decisions were being made. She used to see all the adults congregate together, and she knew they were debating in order to decide something. Now any small group of adults could be discussing anything. When Carl was involved, perhaps a decision was being made. She peered back and saw that Glen was walking away, with a skin over his shoulder. Carl and Val hovered by the sleeping circle, leaning into each other, talking quietly. Watching Glen go.

Agnes bounded over. “Why is Glen walking away with his bedding? Where is he going?”

“He’s going to sleep somewhere else, away from camp, until he gets better,” said Carl breezily.

“What? Why?”

“He’s worried that he’s bothering people who are trying to sleep. With his coughing. I mean, it’s continuous. Quite irritating. He volunteered to sleep elsewhere. Until he’s better.”

“But he can’t sleep out there. He should sleep closer to the fire if anything. He needs to keep warm.”

“People will still hear him.” Carl traded his pleasant tone for something more straightforward.

“Then why doesn’t everyone else move?”

Carl and Val snorted. “Come on, Agnes,” said Val.

“That’s an absurd thing to suggest. All of us move just so Glen can be comfortable?” Carl laughed.

“Stop laughing.” Agnes stomped her foot.

Val looked stern. “Hey now, you know we’re already doing him a favor. You should be grateful.”

“What do you mean?”

Val said, “Sweetheart, he’s very sick. If he were anyone else, we would have left him behind by now. He’s holding us back.”

“No, he isn’t. The Newcomers are.”

“No, it’s Glen,” Carl snapped.

“Hey,” Val said softly to Carl. She put a hand out, as though to try to hush him. But she put her hand on Agnes’s shoulder instead.

Agnes felt her lip tremble. No, no, no, she thought. She clenched her fists to keep her feelings in control. She took a breath. “But—”

“But we’re not going to do that to him,” Val said. “We’re not going to do that to you.”

“You sent him away,” Agnes said, barely audible.

“It was his idea,” spat Carl. “He volunteered. Go ask him. Or better, go join him if you’d like.” He started to walk away.

She blinked. She had not thought to do that. The fire was so warm and the camp was where everyone was. Why would anyone sleep out there? He’ll never let me, she told herself. Who lets you do anything? a voice said. Do what you want.

“Okay, I will.” She gathered up her skins.

Carl turned and laughed. “Oh, that’s great. See you in the middle of the night when you come running back.”

“You don’t think I’m brave?”

“You’re a child. You can only be so brave.”

Val raised her eyebrows at Carl.

“What?” Carl cried. “She’s always had the group around her. Who knows how she’ll do alone.”

Agnes started to walk off. “I won’t be alone. I’ll be with Glen.”

“Right. He’s a great shield.”

She stomped her feet again and yelled, “He is!” And then her voice wavered and her eyes got wet. She trudged after Glen. Behind her she heard Val scolding Carl: “And you’re just going to let her go?”

“She has to learn,” he scolded back.

Glen had walked off, toward Madeline’s place, but he’d not made it far before he stopped to sit. He was hunched over his legs in the middle of the sage, his blankets in a heap next to him. He looked so tired. She gathered his skins and he groaned.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“I’m going to carry your stuff.” She slung it over her other shoulder. She had several skins now draped around her. They almost touched the ground.

“No, I mean, what are you doing here? With your bedding.”

“Our bedding.”

“I left it for you.”

“Well, I’m coming with you. Where do you want to go?”

“No, no, honey, you keep your bed with the others. Go back.”

“No, I’m staying with you.”

“No, Agnes, I mean it. You have to go back. This isn’t good for you.”

“No.”

“Agnes, you have to.”

Agnes threw the skins down. “Don’t tell me what to do,” she screamed. Her small fists clenched, strained at her sides, and she thought she might punch Glen, except that she loved Glen so much. Even though she had led the whole Community here, from the Poi soned River, all over the Wilderness really, even though she knew she had made herself essential to the group, she felt helpless right now. She felt helpless and embarrassed thinking of how she’d asked Ranger Bob for help and he’d said no. How all she had done since then was try to help Glen sleep. That’s all. He wasn’t any better and she didn’t know how to make him better. How could she not know how to help Glen when she could do so much else?

She felt Glen’s arm around her shoulder. She realized she was crying fiercely into her fists. White stars burst behind her eyes.

“Shhh,” he said, and stroked her hair. “Come on,” he said. His voice was steady and clear, not raspy like it had been a moment ago, and for so long before that. With her sight blurry from tears he resembled the strong man who had brought them here. His back straight, his arm heavy on her shoulder, weighted with muscles. “We’re going to find a really good spot,” he said. He kissed the top of her head and gathered up the bedding effortlessly as though it were as light as a leaf. But she saw him wobble as he straightened. Knew this was taking all he had. He was mustering everything he could to take care of her, even though really he needed her to take care of him. She was ashamed at how good this made her feel. She whimpered and let him lead her away. “I know just the place,” he said. He took her up a scramble of rocks to their cave.

*

They built a little fire when the sun began to set. They lay on their backs, in the skins, their arms behind their heads looking for shooting stars. When something came to mind, they said it. But mostly they lay quiet.

Jake had brought them a bowl of food to share from dinner. He’d sat with them for a little while.

When he left, Agnes reached into her bag. “I have a treat,” she said. She pulled out the two green lollipops.

Glen’s eyes flared like embers in wind. “Ooh.”

They each tore the cellophane carefully, folded and tucked it into Agnes’s bag. “It would be bad for these to catch in the wind,” she said very seriously.

“On three,” said Glen.

“One.”

“Two.”

They put the green sticks to their mouths.

Agnes puckered. She couldn’t remember ever tasting such a flavor. Like taking a bite of honeycomb and a rose hip at the same time. Crab apples. They had encountered some a few years ago. Her mouth watered and the sides of her tongue shriveled. She wanted to spit. But there was also a sweetness in the back of her throat. She looked at Glen. His eyes were closed, the corners of his mouth smiling as he drew the lollipop in and out of his mouth, making mmmmm sounds.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

He drew the lollipop out slowly, his eyes still closed. “I love it.”