Peaces: A Novel by Helen Oyeyemi

Author:Helen Oyeyemi [Oyeyemi, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2021-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

9.

The train was in motion again by the time we reached our living quarters (going by the tannoy announcement it sounded as if Laura was in the driver’s seat for now), but we weren’t 100 percent sure of Árpád and Chela’s whereabouts. There was, however, a skittering of claws on metal overhead that suggested our friends were running around on the roof of the train, heading back in our direction each time they heard their names called.

“God knows what they’re up to,” I said. “But I trust Árpád’s judgement. Let’s leave them to it.”

Xavier seemed dissatisfied with this, but I think we both had very clear recall of Laura’s smiley assurance that we’d be made prisoners if we created any further delays. Besides, he was still playing with the photos he’d taken of the white canvases in the gallery car, zooming in and out. As he did so, he asked me: “What have they got to do with us, these people?”

I no longer had the energy to keep lying, even though I knew that lying would set us free faster than any truth would. A break for calorie consumption would give us the strength to continue denying everything, so I borrowed Allegra’s “good question” remark and suggested eating before we tried to answer it. We’d eat, and then I’d ask Xavier how often I did that, chant “Come closer,” and if I’d done it last night. Hopefully he’d tell me he wasn’t talking about me, or that he’d only said it to take Allegra’s mind off her worries. I was happy for him to tell me anything he liked, as long as it reinforced our non-involvement with the situation onboard this train.

The track looped around an expanse of pale, glossy blue. I watched for ripples, thinking it was water at first, then deciding it was ice, even though the temperature was all wrong for it. The blue stood taller and taller as we skimmed its edge, but it only became a mountain as we left it behind. A mountain of blue quartz, foliage-free and so coolly translucent that sunset and moonrise washed along its peaks in one great wave. We silently gave each other a quick pinch; it wasn’t a dream. The smell of French toast drifted through from the pantry car and caressed our nostrils, and we gave each other another quick pinch. Still not a dream.

“Now this is how honeymoons are supposed to be,” Xavier said, ushering me food-ward.

Ava Kapoor was at the stove, transferring our extremely late breakfast from frying pan to plate. “Hello, Shin and Shin”—she accepted a swift kiss on each cheek and one of those flowery compliments beginning Madame, je suis ravie . . . from Xavier—“wearing each other’s clothes and looking as if you’ve never slept in your lives . . . I spy true romance! Please, sit, eat while it’s hot. Oh, and have you seen Chela anywhere?”

I said no, Xavier said yes, I lost the second staring match of the day, then Xavier said: “I think he meant to say that Chela’s with Árpád.

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