Senses Chapter 3

When Jackson got back, he laughed at Les's face.  Les's cheeks got warm.  "Get dressed, man," Jackson said.  "I'm going to take a shower then we can go eat and get to work."  Les nodded and put on a fresh pair of pants, an under shirt, and the jacket.  The uniform was made of a light denim material, so he knew the summer was going to be hot in them.  Between the time of getting dressed and Jackson's return, Les put his scattered possessions in his locker.  When he was done, Jackson came back and they left to go eat.  The line for chow was well out the door, so while they waited, Jackson asked about Les's old life, and Les did the same about Jackson.  While Les came from a middle class home in the Blind side, Jackson came from money in the Anosmia side.  While Les was very modest, Jackson loved to show off and brag.  Though they were very different, Les could tell Jackson was having as hard of time with this as he was.
"Did you get to say goodbye to your family?" Les asked quietly.  Jackson's eyes got pained and he shook his head.
"They took me during school," he explained.
"Me too..." Les mumbled.
"I think they do it on purpose, so there won't be any long, drawn out 'goodbyes' and tears and stuff..."
"Did you run?" Les asked.  Jackson chuckled quietly.
"Yeah, and I even got a few punches in on the guy, but they are trained to deal with that."  Les figured that was true.  His escorts said that everyone runs.  Les looked down at Jackson's cuffs, he had two stripes.
"How old are you?" Les asked and looked back at Jackson's face.
"I'm 17 and a half," he answered.  "It took me a year to get this second stripe," he said and raised his arm up to show off his two golden striped then he dropped it.
"Are we stuck here... forever?" Les asked.
"It's not as bad as it seems," Jackson said in a strained voice.  So that's a yes, Les thought.  "We get payed like 50 bucks a week until we get Enlisted, so we have money to do things on our off time, but we are not allowed to go home.  Our watches know where we are, so if we stray out of our area of duty more than a mile, then alarms go off.  But, like, letters are not illegal or anything, neither are phone calls.  They have payphones in the lobby of the barracks."
"Great, I'll just have to find a braille writer around here, somewhere," Les mumbled bitterly.
"If you ask Matson, they should give you one for free, everyone from the Blind side gets one for that reason."  That lightened Les's mood a bit.  Soon, they moved to the front of the line and Les was surprised that they did not get to choose what they wanted like a normal cafeteria.  They were given a plate with food on it, utensils, and a glass of water then they were herded to a seat.  The breakfast was pretty simple.  Scrambled eggs, sausage, a biscuit, and oatmeal in a trey with separate sections for each type of food.  In the whole chow room, the only sound was the sound of the metal utensils on the plastic treys.  No one spoke.  Les silently ate his food that was in dire need of flavor and got up when Jackson did.  When they left the room, Jackson spoke up.  "Yeah, eating is not the most fun thing for Drafted.  I heard the Enlisted eat like kings and their chow room is like a restaurant and everyone loves eating.  Here... well, you know.  Try to get used to eating that every day, because trust me, that's almost every day.  Next, to work."
Where they ate was right next to the barracks, and where they reported to work was on the other side of the barracks, so it was easy to walk everywhere.  It was 7 am, and everyone had to be at their work office to be considered for role call.  Just like at home.  Matson watched everyone come in, like she was a teacher watching her students file in.  Everyone just chatted in the same groups they had as earlier that day before the exercising, but this time Jackson invited Les to meet his friends.  Jackson had three friends.  He gestured to each one as he introduced them.
"That's McClanahan," Jackson said and a boy with very tan skin and very blond hair nodded toward Les.  This boy seriously hit the gym, he was very build, even through his baggy clothes, Les could tell he was very muscular.  "And that's Epps."  A boy with glasses a size too big for his head and an adam's apple about to rip from his throat waved slightly.  He was skinny with tired eyes and awkward, lanky limbs and a pointy nose, like he has yet to grow into his body.  "Lastly, Price."  This boy was asian, a bit chunky, but not nearly as tan as the other two.  Les wondered if they got so tan from being outside all day, guarding the walls.  That was a huge possibility.  None of the boys seemed terribly thrilled to have another member in their group, but Jackson seemed to ignore their obvious annoyance.  He noticed all where the same rank as Jackson, D2.  "He's from the Blind side too, Price," Jackson pressed on, probably trying to break the ice.  Price's eyebrows shot up and he looked Les over.
"Probably from a different area than mine," Price said.  His voice did not sound as if he was in an asian community any part of his life like most asains in Les's school.  They all kind of kept together in their own towns to keep their culture alive.  "I haven't seen him in my school.  I was near the wall the divided the Anosmia."  Les was a bit let down.
"I was near the Non-Feelers," Les said back.
"So much for that," Price mumbled and engaged in a conversation with Epps about a video game, at least that's what Les thought.
"Okay, shit heads," Matson spoke up.  "It's past seven, congratulations, role has been taken, now get your ass to your posts."  Jackson hit Les's arm to get his attention and told him to follow him.  They left the room with the other 30 people, but everyone split off once they got outside.  Les clung to Jackson like a shadow.  The place where they were to guard was about a mile from the barracks.  They walked straight up to the wall, which on the inside of the military base was a dark green, and Jackson pulled open a wooden door.  Inside the door where about five flights of stairs to climb.
"As if the run this morning was not enough of a leg day," Jackson grumbled.  "You get used to it, climbing this almost every day for a few months and it will become normal."  Jackson flew up the stairs compared to Les.  Les took a break half way, but when he got to the top, the view astonished him.  Jackson chuckled at Les's gaping mouth.  The sun was just cresting over the horizon and threw a red into the sky.  There was a slight haze from the dampness of the night that hung over the Blind community.  Looking over the Blind side made him homesick, but also overwhelmingly sad.  The people yet to lose their sight had no idea what they were missing, living in a world with everything being black, white, and grey.  They had no idea what it was like to ride in a car and to see houses painted the color of the sky right now, and the Blind are not able to see the sun rise anymore, the way Les could right now.  He turned his back to his community and looked over at the Non-Feelers.  Their community was starting to buzz to life.  Lights turned on in everyone's houses, car drove, people walked.  It was so amazing to see it all.
"I hope I never get used to this," Les whispered in astonishment.
"Nah," Jackson said and leaned on the edge of the wall.  The wall was about ten feet thick with about a foot thick and three foot high barrier on either side to keep them from falling off.  "I never get tired of seeing this."  He turned around and faced the rising sun, leaning on the wall.  Les did the same.  "The sun rise is the best part of the day.  Of course it depends on the time of year, since it's about to be winter it raises pretty late so we get to see it.  In summer, we are usually eating or at role call when it comes up.  Anyway, we can't just sit here.  Here comes the train."  Train?
I followed his gaze down the wall and surly enough a train was stopped maybe a mile away from them on the side of the wall.  Les was terribly confused about how it stayed on the wall so he looked over the edge.  After the nauseating roll of vertigo he got for looking over the terrifying edge, his eyes focused on a rail that was posted right inside the green side of the wall.  It stuck out from the wall about five feet, the rail itself was maybe two feet thick.  Les leaned back and watched the train started to move and zip toward them on the monorail.  It came to a sudden halt in front of them and a door opened a few feet away.  He followed Jackson into the crowed train and the doors closed with a hiss.  Jackson grabbed his wrist and quickly brought it to the pole he was holding onto.  Les grabbed it just in time to stop himself from flying backwards as the train darted in motion again.
“The military is all about efficacy, not comfort,” he explained with a weak, dry smile.  After ten lurching stops, Jackson motioned to the doors and they stumbled our way out.  Back on a solid ground, Les’s stomach did a flip.  He ran over to the Blind side of the wall and lost my breakfast into the woodland under them.  The food was just as bland the second time.  Jackson clapped his hand down on Les’s shoulder and shook it slightly.  “That’s the only way to get to our post ten miles away.  It sucks, I know.”  Les composed myself enough to pick his head up and face him, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes from the strain my stomach went through.  He looked away from Les and nodded once.  Les looked over and saw two people walking toward them.  It was another two Drafted boys and they looked tired.
“Took you long enough, Jackson,” one boy mumbled.  Jackson rolled his eyes.
“Listen Smith, I’m not up for it today,” Jackson complained and waved his hand through the air that was pierced by the boy’s eye contact.  “I get here as fast as I can knowing full well you can’t leave until we get here.”  The boy named Smith glared at Jackson and leaned against the wall across from them.
“Nothing happened last night, should be a smooth shift,” he mumbled and looked down the wall.
“Going to be another 20 minutes until the next train,” the boy with Smith commented.
“Think I don’t know that, Duncan?” Smith snapped, turning his piercing gaze on the boy.  The boy named Duncan just rolled his tired eyes.
“Come on,” Jackson whispered and tapped Les’s arm.  Les followed him loyally back where Smith and Duncan came from.  Once they were far enough away, Jackson snickered.  “I love messing with him,” Jackson admitted.  “Every once and a while I’ll come late just to mess with him.  He gets really irritable at the end of shift.”  Les felt like he was on the side of Duncan, rolling his eyes at his partner’s immaturity.
They walked at a slow pace so they could enjoy the morning.  "So, do you have any questions?  I'll try to answer them, but I've only been in for a year and a half, I probably can't answer all of them."  One thing was nagging at Les since one of his escorts mentioned it.
"What's wrong with the Non-Feelers?" Les asked.  Jackson looked over at him and gave him an odd look.
"What do you mean?"
"One of the Enlisted that brought me here said that the Non-Feelers are crazy."
"I think I know what he means," Jackson said and chuckled.  "Okay, so, when the Non-Feelers turn 15, when they lose their touch, they tend to act out a lot.  They do crazy things because they know it won't hurt them.  Jumping from cars, jumping off buildings, running until their heart explodes, either because they don't know their body is in trouble or because they think it is cool that they can push themselves past their limits because it does not hurt.  A lot of them become violent and fight because they can fight until they die.  You know, that's how that war broke out."
"War?" Les asked.  Jackson stopped and looked at him again with the same confused look.
"The last war, it lasted like 5 years, killed thousands?  Nothing ringing a bell?" he pressed on.  Les shook his head slightly.  "Maybe they didn't teach you because of what they did to the Blind."
"What?" Les gasped.  "What did they do?"
"It started when the Non-Feelers attacked the Blinds.  I mean, face it, you guys are the most helpless when it comes to an act of war.  Thousands of Non-Feelers flooded over and under the wall and through the gate and just... slaughtered the Blinds.  When the military intervened, they were shooting them, but they wouldn't go down until they died.  They couldn't feel getting shot.  So many people died.  Something like at least 20,000 people died, Blinds, Non-Feelers, and military."
"When was this?" Les asked, trying to breathe normally.  
"Like 100 years ago," Jackson shrugged.  "Maybe you get taught it in a higher level of school then you got or maybe they don't talk about in school or something, but I still think it is the most absurd thing you never heard about it.  Every community knows about that war.  That's why the Non-Feelers are the most heavily guarded community, they are the most dangerous."  Les tried to clear the haze in his mind to no success.  They started walking again until they met up with Epps and Price who were walking their length of their wall.  Jackson and the other two exchanged hellos and everyone turned around and started walking back.
"So this is all we do?  Walk in circles all day?" Les asked once they were within paces of the train stop they started at.  Smith and Duncan were long gone but Les could tell it was the spot because the wall that extended up three feet to keep the Drafted on dips to the ground to allow easy access to the train.
"No," Jackson said as if it were obvious.  "We walk our section of wall maybe once an hour or so then we just sit by the stairs and wait for the next hour.  As for what do we do when we are just sitting?  Talking to each other, gambling, watching the clouds pass, anything really but sleeping.  You don't want to go to sleep.  Trust me, the shock you get from that watch is pretty bad."
"A real shock?!" Les gasped and looked down at his watch.
"Yes, genius.  How else would it wake us up?"
"An alarm or something?" Les argued.
"Oh please, you know how easy it is to sleep through an alarm?" Jackson said and slid down to the ground, leaning up against the wall.  Les sat down across from him.
"Who was here before me?  Who did you patrol with yesterday and the day before?" Les asked.  Jackson got a sour look on his face, like he was mad at the person.  He looked down at his hand and ran his fingers over the concrete and found some stray pebbles.  He picked up a large one and spun it between his fingers.
"His name was Underwood," Jackson said in an accusing voice and threw the pebble across the way.  It hit Les's boot and settled right where it fell.  "Bastard killed himself a week ago."  Les's jaw dropped slightly.  "He got demoted for the twenty millionth time for drinking on the job and instead of getting him help like anyone could see that he needed, Matson just ignored it and he finally went awol to drink himself to death in a Non-Feeler's pub right inside the town."  He let out a dry chuckle and threw another pebble, this one missed Les's boot completely.  He still looked angry at this dead boy.  "That fucker messed everything up.  He could never do anything right.  We told him to go left, he went right.  He didn't mean it, he was just so bad at following directions.  I guess if we told him to get drunk on shift every night, he might have actually done the opposite and been an Enlisted by now.  He had been in damn near ten years.  That fucker just... took the damn easy way out while the rest of us just suffer and have to be there for his funeral and watch his parents cry over his casket.  But you know what, I don't care," he said bitterly.
"I believe you," Les lied.
"You should, it's the truth," Jackson pressed on.  "But it does not matter anymore," he grumbled.  "He's gone, it's over."  Les let Jackson leave the conversation at that.  Les looked up at the sky and watched it get brighter.  He heard the birds chirp and some suddenly flew just a few feet over them from the Blind side to the side of the Non-Feelers.  It sparked a question in Les's mind.
"Why are there walls?" he asked and looked over at Jackson.  Jackson looked at him like he was asking the most absurd questions.  He pulled his right leg up so it made a triangle and he rested his right arm on it as he scoffed at Les.
"You are really stupid, you know that, right?" Jackson accused.
"No one talks about anything like that where I'm from," Les defended.  "We don't waste time talking about things we can't change, I guess that's why we never learned about a war from 100 year ago.  No one asks about the walls or why we lose our sight or why we have role call every day, but I've always wondered all of it.  My mother just scolds me and tells me to stop poking my nose where it doesn't belong, but how can I not wonder about a wall that I live right near or every day I thought I grew closer to not being able to see?"  Jackson sighed and ran his hand over his shortly cropped hair and his hand came to a stop behind his neck as he looked at Les.
"Ok, I'll play the role of history teacher, I guess," he mumbled.  "No one knows when people started losing their senses at 15, it just started all over the states in random places.  Like an out break of Blind happened in what used to be called Texas among 15 year olds, and the same thing would be happening with 15 year olds in what they called New England and they were losing their taste.  The government was like 'oh shit, get those kids quarantined', but even if they were in their own little community like fucking prisoners, people all over were still losing their senses at 15.  Then all this violence broke out like crazy.  Non-Feelers were accidentally killing themselves doing stupid stunts, people were stealing from the Blind, raping the Mute who couldn’t scream for help, people said, and the worst that was happening was cross breading."  Les didn't like how he worded that, like they were animals.  "Mute people having kids with Blind people... guess what happened when that kid grew up?  He would lose both sight and voice.  If by some miracle that child lives in those horrible times and found love with a deaf person, their kid would lose all three senses.  
"Too much violence, too much cross breading, the government finally put their foot down.  The police were not doing anything, so it was fucking chaos.  They put the walls and started segregating everyone.  It took something like 20 years to get the walls up and get an estimated 80% of people in their respective areas.  Then another 20 years to get the watches developed and everyone to wear them.  While people were getting their watches, they were testing their senses, to makes sure that they were actually in the right area, making sure no Mute were in with the Non-Feelers for example.  If they were in the wrong area, then they would be escorted by the military to the right area and kept under watch until they got their watch put on.  Also, if you didn't lose any sense, then that's when you would be Drafted into the military.
"So, as you can guess, many attempts were made to break the walls, too many suicide bombers and packages of C4 left by the guard posts.  And as I said, the Non-Feelers climbed over the wall and under through tunnels during the last war, but many of them broke through the walls discreetly.  People say there are still holes in the wall, but," he shook his head and waved his hand dismissively.  "bunch of bull.  We would have fixed it by now.  There are rumors of another rebellion from the Non-Feelers, but that's nothing to be worried about.  Every generation thinks they can start another rebellion, but we have a lot of under cover Enlisted that keep their ears to the ground in every community and stop anything before it happens.  The only thing I wonder is how the Non-Feelers haven't died out by now."  Les looked at Jackson questionably.  "Well, what's the point in doing it if you can't even feel it?"  Les rolled his eyes and disregarded the question.  "Anyway, that's basically the reason we have walls, stop violence, stop cross breading, keep order."
"How long has it been since the walls came up?" Les asked.
"Something like a thousand years," he mumbled and leaned his head back to look up at the sky.  Les felt that was a terrible over exaggeration.
"Okay, but what about role call?" Les went on to his next life mystery.
"To keep track of us," Jackson answered nonchalantly.  "If you don't have your watch in a certain area at a certain time, there is a unit here that gets alerted.  It says where you are supposed to be and two Enlisted or Drafted are sent out to find you.  If you don't have a watch yet, then someone takes the role for you.  Like your teacher would put into his computer that you are there or your mother would say that you were there in her watch every afternoon.  If you get caught lying you get put in jail until they find the missing person, then both of you get an extra, like, 20 years or something.  They want to make the punishment outrageous so that no one does it.  But, as for the real reason behind it all?  To make sure we don't cross the boundaries.  The watch is supposed to give an alarm if you cross the wall, but it is super easy to hack that part of it, a two year old could do it, so they just want you to be at role call every day and they think that's not enough time to get in too much trouble if you were able to hack the watch."
"The guy that gave me the watch said it was tamper proof," Les interjected.
"Of course he said that," Jackson said and rolled his eyes.  "He's not going to tell you you can mess with it."
"If it's so easy to hack, why not just fix it?" Les asked.  Jackson looked back at him, still leaning his head against the wall, but now looking at the dark skinned boy.
"I asked about that to Matson and she said that if they were to fix that part of it, then it would compromise the part that sends out alarms when people are in trouble," Jackson threw up his hand weakly and shrugged.  "I don't get it, but she swears by it because her father worked in the factory that made them and he knew everything about them.  Whatever.  Any other questions?" he asked like Les was being such a burden, but Les felt like Jackson liked to hear himself talk, and he was secretly happy to be off the topic of his old roommate.
"Why are the walls painted?" Les asked.  Jackson seemed a bit surprised by the question, then his eyebrows pulled together and he cocked his head slightly.
"That, I actually have no idea.  Maybe to make the wall seem less... like a wall or something," Jackson ventured his guess.
"My side is grey," Les said.  "Everything there is grey."
"I've seen," Jackson commented.
"I hated it," Les continued.  "Just because we were all destined to go blind does not mean the younger guys wouldn't like some color in our world.  There was no color."
"What about, like, markers or paper?"  Before Jackson could finish, Les was shaking his head.
"My thought was that they didn't want kids to be as sad when they lost their sight, knowing what they are missing, but we saw colors.  We saw the green of the grass and the pure beauty of a rainbow.  We saw the leaves turn.  We saw the setting sun cast this color in the sky I've never seen anywhere else.  When my friend turned 15, we spent every day on his porch watching the setting sun because he wanted to remember it so much.  We both did.  About a week later, when we were watching it, he burst into tears.  He had lost his sight then and for weeks he was so depressed.  Then I lost my father, he put aside his own sadness about something that was inevitable to help me though something that shouldn't have happened for many more years.  We just seemed to get back on track when I realized I was turning 15 in a week.  I started just not caring about anything.  I just slept through class, barely talked to anyone, I couldn't stand going to sleep for the night, because I feared when I woke up, I wouldn't be able to see again.  I would stare at the dark ceiling every night wondering 'did I see everything I wanted to today?  Did I take the time I have my site to its full advantage?  What would my regrets be that I never saw?'.  The annoying thing is... I would do anything to go blind now.  Just to go home."  Jackson took that silently.  They were quiet for a long time, until Jackson's watch beeped once.  He looked at it and got up.  Les got up too.
"Time to walk," Jackson said and started walking back along the walkway.  "What did the color look like?" Jackson asked.  Les looked at him.  "You know, the color in the sky you saw."
"We only ever get taught the colors in first grade, I forget what it's called.  I never saw it other than in the sky," Les explained.
"You never saw a flower with it?" Jackson asked.  Les thought for a minute then looked at Jackson.
"Is a flower like a dandelion?" Les asked honestly ignorant.  Jackson stopped in his tracks and looked at the boy.
"'Is a flower like'... what?" Jackson asked, flabbergasted.  "A flower dude!" Jackson pressed on.  "You know, grows out of the ground and has stuff on the top and chicks dig 'em especially if you messed up and need to win her back."  Les gave him a blank stare.
"What's the point in them?" Les asked.
"I just said, you give them girls.  They like them because they're pretty and smell good," Jackson explained.
"Then why would we have them in a blind community?" Les pressed on.  Jackson was about to argue, but then he closed his mouth.
"Well, I mean, flowers grow in the wild too," Jackson went on as he started walking again.
"I never really explored the woods too much," Les mumbled as he followed his friend.  "And every other day the grass in my neighborhood gets tended too.  The only thing close to what you have described is a dandelion."
"Don't you guys have the internet or anything?  To be able to see anything from around the world?" Jackson pressed on.
"We have computers, sure," Les allowed.  "But no pictures on them.  Your computer probably looks very different than my computer."
"Well, tonight we are going to watch the sun set and you are going to show me what color you mean," Jackson insisted and Les smiled.  It had been over a year since he really enjoyed the sunset.  They greeted Ebbs and Price briefly when they met up on their walk, then turned around and started making their way back to the toward the place where they sat.  From the train stop to where they met up with the other two boy was maybe a mile, so the round was a two mile loop and it took them about a half an hour to walk it if they walk normally, if they walked slowly it took about 40 minutes.  "When people lose their sense of smell... they don't really get so upset," Jackson commented once they were out of earshot of the other to Drafted.  "I mean, I guess it sucks because then they also lose their sense of taste is shot, so many feel like they should be able to co-exist with the Ageusia, since the two of them are very non violent and have lost two senses that pretty much depend on each other so cross breading would not be too detrimental, but I feel like if the government let one border down, that would just take a step backwards then the other people will want their walls laxed as well and it would all just fall into chaos again."
"I've been told that the Anosmias are really pompous," Les said cautiously, but instead of getting mad, like Les feared, he was happy to see the boy laugh.  His laugh, when it was genuine, Les noticed, was Jackson's best feature.  It showed that the military had not broken him, he was still full of a lot of joy.  Though Les still was curious who gave Les that nasty bruise that covered his right cheekbone and part of his cheek, what he had done to deserve that.
"Everyone says that," he said after he calmed down from his laughter.  "I guess it's true.  A lot of the Anosmias feel like they are better than the other communities because their loss is not crippling and they can blend in with anyone, really.  They are the most 'normal'."  He put air quotes around the word normal with an eye roll.  "Their arrogance makes them stick out, but the thing they are so arrogant about is that they don't stick out.  It's ironic.  I'm sure every community is like that, they think about all the other communities as way different than how they actually are."
"How do the Anosmias see the Blind?" Les asked.  Jackson looked up as he thought and shrugged.
"We don't really think of you too much.  Really, if someone talks about the Blinds, they get this pitiful look about them.  Like their talking about... some dog that died on the side of the street," he explained.  "I think it's because of how the Non-Feelers treated you guys in the war, but I like what you mentioned earlier, best not to fret over things that you can't change.  Do the Blind even really think of anyone else?"
"Only about how the ones who go blind wish they were born anywhere else," Les mumbled.
"Where would you be born if you could choose?" Jackson asked.
"I wouldn't change anything about my life except the fact that I didn't lose my sight and I lost my father," Les said with certainty.  "I had a perfect life."  Jackson sighed quietly.
"Things will get better here.  When you become a D5, you get more privileges.  You get a cellphone and electronics in our room and they don't treat you like shit so much," Jackson explained dreamily.  Les got confused for a second.
"I saw a D1 with a cell phone, he's the one that gave me my watch."  Jackson looked at him with a shocked face.
"A D1?  Really?" he asked.  Les nodded.  "Well, he might have gotten demoted from a D5 to a D1, which is super rare to get demoted that far down or he snuck in a phone some how.  He's got balls, man, to be open with it enough that you saw it," he said with a laugh.  They relapsed into a silent walk until they sat down again.  "Any more questions, genius?" Jackson teased, running his fingers over the concrete ground again to find more pebbles to toss.  Les just shook his head and looked up at the sky.  After two more rounds of sitting, then walking, a train came by and a drafted dropped a bag with a box inside it on the ground and the train zipped away.  Les had realized the train flying past us about every twenty minutes but it was quiet and no one bothered them from it so it easy to ignore until then.  Jackson’s watch beeped as he reached for the bagged box and he groaned.  They left it on the ground, made their round, and when they came back, Jackson tore open the plastic bag and that’s when Les realized there were two boxes making us the one shape.  Jackson handed Les a box and Les opened it to see and smell food.  His stomach grumbled in anticipation.  
They ate their lunch of chicken sandwiches, canned fruit, and a bottle of water.  They chatted over their lunch about how nice it was they didn't have to eat silently.  The rest of the day was quiet except for something around three in the afternoon.  They were walking their round when Les heard a noise on the side of the Blind.  He looked over the edge of the wall.  He had a bad, dizzying sensation of falling, but when he focused his eyes, he saw someone walking through the woods away from the wall.  It was odd because the watch that the Blind wore set an alarm if they strayed too far from their house or if they tripped over all the tangling roots of the woods.  A Blind person would usually never venture toward the woods on purpose, unless it was some kid that could still see.  But what weirded Les out the most, is that the Blind was tall and blond, just like James.