4338.208 · July 27, 2018 AD
Clean Enough to Get Dirty Again
Day two arrives with harsh light, frayed tempers, and the realisation that yesterday wasn't a nightmare he could wake from. Joel whispers his first words. Jamie snaps at shadows. The river offers cold clarity but no answers. And somewhere between burnt bacon and the discovery that he owns exactly one set of clothes, Kain starts learning what survival actually looks like — not the dramatic kind, but the grinding, unglamorous kind where even breakfast requires skills no one thought to pack.
Morning in Clivilius doesn't do gentle. The sun climbs that wrong-blue sky like it has somewhere to be, and the camp is already moving before Kain's eyes have properly opened.
Jamie's tent offers no comfort. Joel can speak now — two croaked words that prove the impossible is settling into something like routine — but Jamie hovers over him with a protectiveness that sparks into anger at the slightest interruption. Glenda arrives with medical equipment. Jamie snaps. Growing up with three sisters taught Kain one useful skill: when the shouting starts, find somewhere else to be.
The river is cold in a way that cuts through the fog. But the memory of yesterday keeps him cautious — shirt off, hands and face only, nothing below the waist. Uncle Jamie said the river's effects were minor. Minor isn't the same as none. The water turns murky with dust and sweat, carried away downstream, and for a few minutes the rhythm of washing drowns out everything else.
Back at camp, breakfast is under assault. Glenda stands over a frying pan full of charcoal that used to be bacon, her vocabulary expanding in directions that would make a tradie blush. Kain offers cooking advice — move to the cooler coals, keep your arm steady, raise or lower for heat control. Small knowledge, suddenly valuable.
Then comes the moment that shouldn't sting but does: ducking into the tent for fresh clothes and realising there are none. Same shirt, same jeans, same everything. The river helped, but without a change of gear, he's just getting clean to get dirty again.
One more indignity. One more thing to carry.
