By eight in the morning, Eli had decided laying sod was much harder than grass looked.
Grass looked passive.
Grass sat there.
Grass did not advertise that it arrived in heavy rolls with wet dirt attached to the bottom.
“Lift your end.”
“I am lifting my end.”
“You are dragging it.”
“I am not.”
T’waur T’resk looked at the dark smear trailing behind Eli’s side of the roll.
Then she looked at him.
Eli looked down.
“Okay. A little.”
“A lot.”
“It’s heavy.”
“Yes.”
“You’re stronger than me.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t have to sound happy about it.”
“I am not happy.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I smile often.”
“Usually when something bad happens to me.”
T’waur considered that.
“Yes.”
Eli laughed.
Behind them, Heidi Littleton said, “You two have been together for less than a day and you already sound married.”
Eli did not turn around.
“She is not my cousin.”
Silence.
Then Ravi Chakrobarty said, “That has nothing to do with anything.”
Eli finally looked back.
Ravi stood beside Heidi with another sod roll between them.
Heidi, twelve years and ten months old and currently covered in enough dirt to obscure the fact that she had started the morning clean, stared at Eli.
Ravi was thirteen and already regretting the conversation.
Eli smiled.
“It has everything to do with everything.”
Heidi groaned.
“Oh, shut up.”
T’waur looked between them.
“I still do not understand why that works.”
Ravi pointed at Eli.
“It doesn’t.”
“It does,” Heidi said.
Ravi turned.
“You are supposed to be helping me.”
“You started it.”
“I said one thing.”
“And he said cousin.”
Eli nodded.
“Works every time.”
Ravi muttered something.
Heidi immediately said, “Remember, Ravi, I’m your cousin.”
T’waur burst out laughing.
Ravi closed his eyes.
“I hate all of you.”
The four of them lifted their sod.
This park was one of the next green spaces being finished.
Yesterday’s park had already been planted.
This one was still mostly exposed soil and vitrified material, leveled into the shallow depression between the surrounding houses.
When finished, the park surface would sit roughly half a meter below the foot of the porch stairs.
The pond in the center had already been formed.
About a hundred feet across.
Four feet deep.
Empty.
Without water, it looked enormous.
Broad tree pits had been left around the park, deep enough that mature trees would eventually have serious soil volume for roots rather than living their lives trapped in ornamental holes.
The planting crews were moving outward from the pond.
Grass in some areas.
Wildflower meadow in others.
Not seeds.
Not nursery flats.
The wildflower sections had been cut directly from nearby Freehold meadows with the root mat and soil underneath intact.
Purple.
Yellow.
White.
Blue.
Native grasses woven between them.
Small plants Eli could not name.
Crickets, beetles and other insects that had apparently become involuntary Leta settlers.
Eli and T’waur had been assigned grass sod.
So had Heidi and Ravi.
That was probably deliberate.
Grass sod was difficult to misunderstand.
Pick it up.
Carry it.
Set it beside the previous piece.
Unroll.
Push the seams together.
No gaps.
No overlap.
Move on.
They were supervised.
They were also, according to Anthony, under strict orders not to disappear behind anything.
Eli had objected.
T’waur had objected more loudly.
Heidi had laughed.
Ravi had made the mistake of saying, “You met her last night.”
Eli had answered, “She is not my cousin.”
That had ended the discussion.
Mostly.
Now Eli and T’waur carried their roll toward the end of the completed row.
“Down.”
They lowered it.
T’waur knelt.
Eli knelt opposite her.
She found the edge.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
They pushed.
The roll opened between them.
Wet green grass spread across the brown ground.
Eli walked backward while T’waur guided the opposite side.
“Left.”
“My left?”
“Yes.”
“Your left or my left?”
“Your left.”
“You pointed right.”
“I pointed toward your left.”
“That is my right.”
T’waur stopped.
Eli stopped.
They stared at each other.
She pointed.
“That direction.”
“See? That works.”
She rolled her eyes.
Heidi called over, “How did you two manage to kiss if you can’t agree on left?”
Eli did not even look up.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi dropped his end of their sod roll.
“Oh, come on!”
Heidi doubled over laughing.
T’waur looked delighted.
“I understand it now.”
Ravi pointed at her.
“Do not encourage him.”
“It is very effective.”
“It is not.”
Heidi wiped her eyes.
“It really is.”
Ravi looked betrayed.
“You are my cousin.”
“Yes.”
“Act like it.”
Heidi smiled.
“Remember that.”
Ravi picked up the sod.
“I walked into that.”
“Yes,” Eli said.
They finished the strip.
The new section met the old one almost perfectly.
T’waur dropped to her knees and pressed the edges together.
Eli did the same.
Their hands met.
Both stopped.
T’waur looked at him.
Eli looked at her.
She smiled.
He smiled.
Ravi groaned from behind them.
“Again?”
Eli said, “She is not my cousin.”
Ravi threw a work glove at him.
Eli ducked.
T’waur picked up the glove.
She considered it.
Then handed it back to Ravi.
“Your cousin is laughing at you.”
“I know.”
Heidi was.
Hard.
For almost twenty minutes, all four behaved perfectly.
This surprised everyone.
They carried rolls.
Unrolled them.
Pressed seams.
Checked edges.
Moved on.
T’waur developed the best eye for alignment.
Eli became better at judging where they needed to set the roll before opening it.
Heidi was faster at working seams together.
Ravi became very good at getting rolls positioned without dragging them.
The work found a rhythm.
Lift.
Carry.
Down.
Unroll.
Straighten.
Seam.
Next.
The sun climbed.
The new grass spread.
Other crews worked around them.
Farther along the pond, workers were laying meadow sections.
Those came in irregular shapes because they had been cut from existing meadows rather than manufactured to uniform dimensions.
Some were long.
Some broad.
Some curved.
Workers fitted them together like pieces of a living puzzle.
T’waur stopped to watch.
“I want to do those.”
Eli followed her gaze.
“Flowers?”
“Yes.”
“You like flowers?”
“Everyone likes flowers.”
“No.”
She turned.
“Who does not like flowers?”
“People with allergies.”
T’waur stopped.
Eli smiled.
She frowned.
“That is different.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“They would like flowers if flowers did not make them sick.”
“That still means they don’t like flowers.”
“It means they do not like pollen.”
“The pollen comes from the flowers.”
“Not all pollen.”
Heidi walked past carrying her end of another roll.
“Grass pollen is worse for some people.”
T’waur looked at her.
“Thank you.”
Heidi smiled.
Eli pointed.
“She was helping me.”
“No, she was not.”
Ravi said, “You’ve known T’waur since last night and you’re already taking her side.”
Eli looked at him.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi stared at the sky.
“Why did I speak?”
Heidi patted his shoulder.
“Poor cousin.”
“Stop.”
They carried another roll.
By ten, the grass reached one of the broad tree pits.
The crew supervisor walked over.
“Stop the row there.”
T’waur pointed.
“We go around?”
“Different crew will finish around the tree pit. You four switch to meadow sections.”
T’waur’s face brightened.
Eli noticed.
“Flowers.”
“Yes.”
Heidi smiled.
“She likes flowers.”
Eli said, “Apparently.”
Ravi looked at them.
“You know an alarming amount about somebody you met at supper.”
Eli sighed.
“She.”
Ravi raised both hands.
“No.”
“Is.”
“No.”
“My.”
“Don’t.”
“Cousin.”
Heidi almost fell over.
The supervisor looked between them.
“I’m not asking.”
“Good,” Ravi said.
He pointed toward a flatbed.
“Those meadow sections were cut this morning. Be careful. They’re actual meadow, not decorative sod. Keep the root layer intact.”
All four nodded.
“And don’t shake insects out.”
Eli frowned.
“Why would we?”
“You would be surprised.”
He walked away.
They approached the first meadow section.
It contained flattened knee-high grasses, small white flowers, yellow blossoms and a patch of purple none of them could name.
A cricket jumped out.
Eli stepped back.
T’waur looked at him.
“You ate beef yesterday.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You are frightened of food.”
“I am not eating park crickets.”
“I did not tell you to.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Yes.”
Heidi said, “They really do eat cricket tacos.”
Ravi nodded.
“Tried one last night.”
Everyone looked at him.
He shrugged.
“It was fine.”
T’waur brightened.
“Yes.”
Eli stared at Ravi.
“You ate crickets?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re giving me relationship advice?”
Ravi frowned.
“How are those connected?”
“They aren’t. I just needed another argument.”
T’waur smiled.
“You are learning from G’aikui.”
“Apparently.”
They crouched.
The meadow mat was substantially heavier than the grass sod.
Eli grabbed one side with T’waur.
Heidi and Ravi took the other.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
They lifted.
All four immediately stopped talking.
“This,” Ravi grunted, “is ridiculous.”
“Yes,” Eli said.
T’waur sounded suspiciously cheerful.
“It is good work.”
Heidi looked at her.
“You’re enjoying this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re weird.”
T’waur smiled.
“So are you.”
They carried it carefully.
The soil beneath was thick enough to keep roots, grasses, wildflowers and a literal slice of the original meadow together.
When they reached the marked area, they lowered it.
All four crouched around the edges.
The seam was nothing like lawn sod.
Irregular stems crossed it.
Roots and soil met underneath.
Leaves overlapped.
Within weeks the boundary would become difficult to see.
T’waur sat back.
“It looks like it was already here.”
Eli looked around.
It almost did.
If he ignored the empty pond.
The unfinished areas.
And houses that had barely existed days before.
“It’s weird.”
“What?”
“This city.”
T’waur looked around.
“What is weird?”
“It’s new.”
“Yes.”
“But this isn’t.”
He pointed down.
“That grass was somewhere else yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Those flowers were somewhere else.”
“Yes.”
“And now they’re here.”
“Yes.”
Eli looked at her.
“You keep agreeing with me.”
“You are saying true things.”
“I thought you were supposed to argue.”
“That is G’aikui and Emma.”
Heidi said, “Those two are ridiculous.”
Eli looked at Ravi.
Ravi immediately said, “Don’t.”
Eli smiled.
Ravi pointed at him.
“Don’t you dare.”
“She is not my cousin.”
Heidi laughed.
Ravi stood.
“I’m changing crews.”
“No, you aren’t,” the supervisor shouted from thirty yards away.
Ravi looked toward him.
“How did you hear that?”
“I have children!”
Heidi laughed harder.
T’waur leaned toward Eli.
She kissed him.
Quick.
Barely a peck.
Eli immediately looked around.
Nobody appeared to have noticed.
He smiled.
T’waur smiled.
Then Ravi said, “Seriously?”
Eli did not miss a beat.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi threw both gloves this time.
Heidi fell backward into the grass laughing.
Then a voice came from inside the empty pond.
“I saw that too.”
Eli looked down.
A worker near the bottom of the basin waved.
T’waur shouted, “Why is everyone watching us?”
“We aren’t!”
Another worker laughed.
“You keep doing it in front of us!”
“That is different!”
“No, it isn’t!”
Eli covered his face.
Heidi sat up.
“You two are terrible at hiding.”
Eli pointed at Ravi.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi yelled.
“HEIDI DIDN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING ABOUT ME!”
“That’s what makes it versatile.”
T’waur nodded approvingly.
They went back for another meadow section.
For the next half hour, Eli and T’waur did not kiss.
They worked.
Properly.
No hiding.
No disappearing.
No discovering a sudden need to inspect the same tree pit.
They moved meadow mats.
Fit edges.
Carried sod.
Pressed seams.
Drank water.
Complained about the heat.
Worked more.
Heidi and Ravi worked beside them.
And somewhere during that half hour, Eli noticed T’waur kept taking his hand on walks back toward the flatbed.
Not always.
But often.
Sometimes she appeared to notice only after she had done it.
Sometimes she did not.
The first few times Eli looked down.
Then he stopped.
He simply held her hand.
Ravi eventually noticed.
He looked at their hands.
Then at Eli.
Eli looked back.
Ravi opened his mouth.
Eli said, “She is not my cousin.”
Ravi closed his mouth.
Heidi laughed.
“Smart.”
“I’m adapting.”
They were carrying another meadow section when T’waur suddenly stopped.
“What?”
She pointed.
A cluster of tiny blue flowers grew along the edge.
“Do not crush those.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You stepped near them.”
“I stepped beside them.”
“Too close.”
Eli moved his foot.
She nodded.
“Better.”
They lifted.
Eli grinned.
“You’re bossy.”
“Yes.”
“You admit that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it is true.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
Eli smiled.
“I like that.”
T’waur looked at him.
“What?”
“That you just say things.”
“Why would I not?”
Eli considered explaining middle school.
Heidi passed behind them.
“Because humans are weird.”
Eli pointed at her.
“Exactly.”
Ravi said, “You’re human.”
“So is she.”
“And?”
“Heidi’s weird.”
Heidi kicked dirt at him.
“Remember, cousin.”
Ravi closed his eyes.
T’waur leaned toward Eli.
“I understand this family relationship better now.”
“Good.”
“It seems hostile.”
“It often is.”
They carried the flowers into the park.
At lunch, all four sat beneath the porch shade of one of the houses overlooking the new green.
T’waur had beans and rice.
Eli had a beef burrito.
Heidi had pork tacos.
Ravi had venison.
T’waur stole a bite of Eli’s burrito.
“You have your own food.”
“I wanted this.”
“You could have ordered a burrito.”
“I did not want a burrito.”
“You are eating my burrito.”
“Yes.”
Eli stared at her.
T’waur took another bite.
“You’re impossible.”
“You like me.”
Eli nearly choked.
Heidi immediately started laughing.
Ravi stared.
“You met last night.”
Eli swallowed.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi put his head in his hands.
T’waur smiled.
There was no uncertainty in it.
No careful calculation.
They had met at supper the night before.
Apparently, to T’waur, that was sufficient time to establish facts.
“I like you too,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then stop complaining.”
“That is not how relationships work.”
“How do they work?”
Eli opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
T’waur waited.
Finally he said, “I have no idea.”
She laughed.
“Then I am winning again.”
“You can’t win a relationship.”
“Why not?”
“Because…”
He stopped.
Heidi said, “This should be good.”
Eli looked at her.
“She is not my cousin.”
Heidi stared.
“That doesn’t even make sense when you say it to me.”
Ravi lifted his head.
“THANK YOU.”
Eli shrugged.
“Still worked.”
T’waur kissed Eli’s cheek.
He turned bright red.
Heidi made a noise.
Eli pointed at Ravi.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi stood up.
“I am eating somewhere else.”
Heidi grabbed his shirt and pulled him back down.
“You’re staying.”
“You’re my cousin. You cannot make me.”
“Watch me.”
Anthony walked past carrying two aguas frescas.
He saw the four of them.
Stopped.
Looked at Eli and T’waur sitting pressed together.
Then looked at Heidi holding Ravi by the back of his shirt.
Anthony frowned.
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Good,” Ravi said.
Anthony pointed at Eli.
“You’ve known her since supper.”
Eli said, “She is not my cousin.”
Anthony stared.
He looked at Ravi.
Ravi said, “Don’t encourage him.”
Anthony started laughing.
He walked away.
T’waur stole another bite of Eli’s burrito.
Eli let her.
After lunch, they went back to the park.
By midafternoon, most of the brown surface had disappeared.
Grass covered broad areas.
Wildflower meadow wrapped around the deep tree pits and curved toward the empty pond.
The park still looked new.
It could not help looking new.
Sod seams remained visible if you knew where to look.
Some meadow sections were still flattened from transport.
The pond was empty.
But the place was already turning from engineered ground into somewhere people might eventually forget had been assembled in a day.
The four carried the last meadow section assigned to them.
“Heavy,” Heidi said.
“Yes,” Ravi said.
“You’re dragging.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
Eli laughed.
Ravi glared.
“Say it and I kill you.”
Eli grinned.
“She is not my cousin.”
T’waur almost dropped her corner laughing.
They got the meadow down without destroying it.
Barely.
Then they sat on the newly laid grass.
The supervisor shouted across the park.
“That better be finished!”
T’waur shouted back.
“It is!”
He inspected their section from a distance.
Apparently satisfied, he waved.
Eli fell backward.
T’waur lay beside him.
Heidi sat cross-legged nearby.
Ravi stretched out on the grass.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
They looked at the sky.
Eli said, “We did a lot.”
“Yes,” T’waur said.
Heidi looked over the park.
“It’s actually pretty.”
Ravi nodded.
“Tomorrow nobody will know which parts we did.”
Eli looked at the grass beneath him.
“Kind of cool.”
T’waur rolled onto her side.
“So no one knows.”
“No.”
She kissed him.
Eli kissed her back.
They forgot, once again, every lesson they had supposedly learned about privacy.
Heidi groaned.
“You two!”
They separated.
Eli sat up.
“She is not my cousin.”
Ravi rolled onto his side laughing.
Heidi threw grass at Eli.
“You’re never going to stop saying that, are you?”
“No.”
From a porch across the park, someone shouted:
“We can still see you!”
Eli covered his face.
T’waur sat up and waved.
The woman on the porch waved back.
Ravi laughed.
“You two are terrible at this.”
Eli looked at him.
Ravi immediately held up both hands.
“No. Don’t.”
Eli smiled.
“She.”
“No.”
“Is.”
“Eli.”
“Not.”
Heidi was already laughing.
“My.”
T’waur joined in.
“Cousin.”
Ravi dropped his forehead into the grass.
“I hate this park.”
Heidi leaned against him, still laughing.
“Remember, I’m your cousin.”
Ravi groaned.
Eli looked at T’waur.
T’waur looked at him.
Their hands found each other again.
This time they did not bother hiding that either.
