As the guard pulled the gate open, she held her clenched fist to her heart. Long life to the Pathfinder, she said.
And, just like that, she was in. She was in. She was doing the something that no one else could.
There’d be another something soon. The big gawdamnn rumble. Saba had promised. She would listen and learn. She’d watch and wait. And when Saba gave the word, she’d be ready to move.
It’s all strangely quiet at the Lanes. Tracker comes runnin to meet me. But not a soul answers my calls of hello. Every shed’s empty. No sign of Peg. Jest her jailbirds twitterin in their cages. Lugh! I call. Emmi!
There ain’t nobody down none of the alleys between the junkhills. The piles of wreckage see all the comins an goins, but they ain’t inclined to say what they know.
Where’ve they all got to, huh? I says to Tracker. Emmi! I yell. Lugh! Gawdamnmit. Lugh!
I rattle the rope of the yard bell. It yelps awake in a splash of white clatter. Nero’s sailin about fer a bird’s-eye view. He caw caws jest as Lugh ambles into sight, whistlin an sloshin a pail of water at his side. What’s the panic? he says.
I bin callin fer ages. Where is everybody?
I dunno about nobody else, he says. I was seein to the horses. You must be starved. I’m gonna cook a big pot of root mash. Hot an wholesome, jest like yers truly.
I thought you gave up yer life of crime, I says.
It don’t hardly seem possible there could be a worse cook than Molly. But Lugh is it. You let him near a cookfire at yer peril. His root mash is especially vile.
Ungrateful brat. You’ll eat it an thank me nicely. He grins wickedly as he pecks my cheek in passin. We can talk plans fer Edenhome, he says. I got a few ideas.
Yer cheerful, I says. Where’s Em?
He walks backwards to answer. She was gone by the time I got up, he says. Must of headed out early fer one of her wanders in the woods. She’ll show when she’s hungry. You better go give that coat of yers a wash, git the salt out. I did mine first thing. It’s a good dryin day.
Yes, Mother, I says.
Hot mash in a flash, he says. I’ll ring when it’s ready.
Spare me the pain, kill me now, I mutter.
He heads fer the cookhouse, almost trippin over Tracker. Any sniff of a tidbit, he’s windin between the cook’s legs like snakevine. A taste of Lugh’s root mash outta cure him of the habit.
Me an Nero make our way to the washpond. Halfways there, we meet Tommo comin towards us. He’s on his way back to the yard, eyes fixed on the ground, hands stuffed in his pockets. Frownin like he’s got a heavy load on his mind. Nero buzzes him to catch his attention. He starts when he sees me. Colour patches his cheeks. We stop, a couple steps apart.
Yer deep in thought, I says.
I bin lookin fer Em.
She won’t of gone far.
After that awful night at Resurrection, Tommo made sure him an me never found ourselfs alone. He was that hurt an angry. An I was so ashamed of myself, I steered clear of him too. But this makes two days in a row that it’s bin jest us on our own. An somethin’s changed in him. In fact, he’s bin changin ever since the bridge.
He stands his ground in front of me now. His gaze meets mine steadily. No uncertainty. No resentment.
I’ve owed him a real apology since that night. Fer far too long. I might not git another chance like this one. I planned an practised in my head what I would say. I take a deep breath an set off. That night at Resurrection, I says. Kissin you like I did. I knew what you’d think. That it meant I cared fer you like you cared fer me. It was selfish an mean. I can be like that. It ain’t somethin I’m proud of an I’m tryin to improve my character. I would like to say that I’m sorry, Tommo. Yer a fine person. I should never of done it. I apologize most sincerely.
You told me sorry then, he says.
It was too soon, I says. The hurt was too raw. It’s simmered between us all this time. I’d like if we could lay this to rest. I hate that I hurt you. That I lied to you. I care fer you.
Lemme guess, he says. Like a brother.
A dearly loved brother, I says.
I love you like a man loves a woman, he says. He jest says it. So simple. Like he carries the words in his pocket, jumbled up with a clasp knife an string an other oddments.
I didn’t plan fer this. A wave of heat crawls my neck. Please, don’t waste yer love on me, I says. I lied to you, Tommo, treated you wrong. You only think you love me. I’m th’only girl you know. If you met some other ones, you’d change yer mind, you would. You jest need to meet other girls.
Think what you like, he says. I know my heart.
He steps in close an before I realize his intent, his warm lips is on mine. He kisses me. A slow, tender melt of a kiss. In no way clumsy or unsure. Not like the twice he’s kissed me before. If I desired him, craved him, such a kiss would slay me. As it is, it takes my breath away. Our lips part.
Jack’s gone from our lives, he says. He was never good fer you. You only did what you did becuz he’d hurt you so bad. I’m constant. I ain’t goin nowhere.
I’m dumb fer a moment. Then, not knowin what else to do, I stumble on with my pathetic little piece. If I could go back, I would, I says. I’d do it all different. I’m ashamed every time I think of that night.
A ghost of a smile lifts his eyes. His mouth. Are you done? he says.
Yes, I says.
Whaddya want from me, Saba? He says it patiently. Like I’m a fractious child.
I want you not to love me.
That ain’t how love works, he says.
All right then, fergiveness, I says.
He shrugs. I fergive you.
Three words. I asked fer them. An they weigh me down like a drowninstone. Serves me right fer thinkin I’m so smart. That I can have everythin on my terms. It’s only Tommo, that’s what I thought. I’ll say the right things, I’ll apologize, an we’ll be back to where I want us to be. Friendly an easy. But I didn’t reckon with him. With him bein different, that is. This new purpose in him, this new strength. This toughness that never was there before. Tommo’s eyes always looked inwards to his past. Shaded, clouded by all he that won’t, or cain’t, speak of. But there’s a sharpness in his gaze now, a clearness.
He says, There may come a day when you look kinder on me. We won’t talk of this agin. Unless you change yer mind.
The boy that he was is gone fer sure. His dignity slaps me with my own smallness. With a bow of his head, he carries on past.
I stand there, dismissed, feelin worse than I ever did. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I handled that so badly. I want you not to love me. I am a fractious child. Stupid an clumsy. When it comes to Tommo, I jest cain’t git nuthin right.
Damn damn damn, I says softly. I don’t want the burden of his love. It weighs me down far more than my guilt ever could. I wish Molly was here. She knows about men. She’d tell me what to do.
Then Tommo hisses, Saba! an Tracker’s suddenly, outta nowhere, streakin circles around me, silent with raw wolf urgency. Warnin there’s some badness afoot. He races back towards the yard an from a standin start, we’re runnin, me an Tommo, tearin up the trail behind him. The red hot slams in to speed my feet. Lugh. It must be Lugh. He’s in trouble.
I grab Tracker’s collar an we duck behind a junkpile near the cookhouse. We catch our breath. Our bodies burn the fierce heat of sudden fear.
And, just like that, she was in. She was in. She was doing the something that no one else could.
There’d be another something soon. The big gawdamnn rumble. Saba had promised. She would listen and learn. She’d watch and wait. And when Saba gave the word, she’d be ready to move.
It’s all strangely quiet at the Lanes. Tracker comes runnin to meet me. But not a soul answers my calls of hello. Every shed’s empty. No sign of Peg. Jest her jailbirds twitterin in their cages. Lugh! I call. Emmi!
There ain’t nobody down none of the alleys between the junkhills. The piles of wreckage see all the comins an goins, but they ain’t inclined to say what they know.
Where’ve they all got to, huh? I says to Tracker. Emmi! I yell. Lugh! Gawdamnmit. Lugh!
I rattle the rope of the yard bell. It yelps awake in a splash of white clatter. Nero’s sailin about fer a bird’s-eye view. He caw caws jest as Lugh ambles into sight, whistlin an sloshin a pail of water at his side. What’s the panic? he says.
I bin callin fer ages. Where is everybody?
I dunno about nobody else, he says. I was seein to the horses. You must be starved. I’m gonna cook a big pot of root mash. Hot an wholesome, jest like yers truly.
I thought you gave up yer life of crime, I says.
It don’t hardly seem possible there could be a worse cook than Molly. But Lugh is it. You let him near a cookfire at yer peril. His root mash is especially vile.
Ungrateful brat. You’ll eat it an thank me nicely. He grins wickedly as he pecks my cheek in passin. We can talk plans fer Edenhome, he says. I got a few ideas.
Yer cheerful, I says. Where’s Em?
He walks backwards to answer. She was gone by the time I got up, he says. Must of headed out early fer one of her wanders in the woods. She’ll show when she’s hungry. You better go give that coat of yers a wash, git the salt out. I did mine first thing. It’s a good dryin day.
Yes, Mother, I says.
Hot mash in a flash, he says. I’ll ring when it’s ready.
Spare me the pain, kill me now, I mutter.
He heads fer the cookhouse, almost trippin over Tracker. Any sniff of a tidbit, he’s windin between the cook’s legs like snakevine. A taste of Lugh’s root mash outta cure him of the habit.
Me an Nero make our way to the washpond. Halfways there, we meet Tommo comin towards us. He’s on his way back to the yard, eyes fixed on the ground, hands stuffed in his pockets. Frownin like he’s got a heavy load on his mind. Nero buzzes him to catch his attention. He starts when he sees me. Colour patches his cheeks. We stop, a couple steps apart.
Yer deep in thought, I says.
I bin lookin fer Em.
She won’t of gone far.
After that awful night at Resurrection, Tommo made sure him an me never found ourselfs alone. He was that hurt an angry. An I was so ashamed of myself, I steered clear of him too. But this makes two days in a row that it’s bin jest us on our own. An somethin’s changed in him. In fact, he’s bin changin ever since the bridge.
He stands his ground in front of me now. His gaze meets mine steadily. No uncertainty. No resentment.
I’ve owed him a real apology since that night. Fer far too long. I might not git another chance like this one. I planned an practised in my head what I would say. I take a deep breath an set off. That night at Resurrection, I says. Kissin you like I did. I knew what you’d think. That it meant I cared fer you like you cared fer me. It was selfish an mean. I can be like that. It ain’t somethin I’m proud of an I’m tryin to improve my character. I would like to say that I’m sorry, Tommo. Yer a fine person. I should never of done it. I apologize most sincerely.
You told me sorry then, he says.
It was too soon, I says. The hurt was too raw. It’s simmered between us all this time. I’d like if we could lay this to rest. I hate that I hurt you. That I lied to you. I care fer you.
Lemme guess, he says. Like a brother.
A dearly loved brother, I says.
I love you like a man loves a woman, he says. He jest says it. So simple. Like he carries the words in his pocket, jumbled up with a clasp knife an string an other oddments.
I didn’t plan fer this. A wave of heat crawls my neck. Please, don’t waste yer love on me, I says. I lied to you, Tommo, treated you wrong. You only think you love me. I’m th’only girl you know. If you met some other ones, you’d change yer mind, you would. You jest need to meet other girls.
Think what you like, he says. I know my heart.
He steps in close an before I realize his intent, his warm lips is on mine. He kisses me. A slow, tender melt of a kiss. In no way clumsy or unsure. Not like the twice he’s kissed me before. If I desired him, craved him, such a kiss would slay me. As it is, it takes my breath away. Our lips part.
Jack’s gone from our lives, he says. He was never good fer you. You only did what you did becuz he’d hurt you so bad. I’m constant. I ain’t goin nowhere.
I’m dumb fer a moment. Then, not knowin what else to do, I stumble on with my pathetic little piece. If I could go back, I would, I says. I’d do it all different. I’m ashamed every time I think of that night.
A ghost of a smile lifts his eyes. His mouth. Are you done? he says.
Yes, I says.
Whaddya want from me, Saba? He says it patiently. Like I’m a fractious child.
I want you not to love me.
That ain’t how love works, he says.
All right then, fergiveness, I says.
He shrugs. I fergive you.
Three words. I asked fer them. An they weigh me down like a drowninstone. Serves me right fer thinkin I’m so smart. That I can have everythin on my terms. It’s only Tommo, that’s what I thought. I’ll say the right things, I’ll apologize, an we’ll be back to where I want us to be. Friendly an easy. But I didn’t reckon with him. With him bein different, that is. This new purpose in him, this new strength. This toughness that never was there before. Tommo’s eyes always looked inwards to his past. Shaded, clouded by all he that won’t, or cain’t, speak of. But there’s a sharpness in his gaze now, a clearness.
He says, There may come a day when you look kinder on me. We won’t talk of this agin. Unless you change yer mind.
The boy that he was is gone fer sure. His dignity slaps me with my own smallness. With a bow of his head, he carries on past.
I stand there, dismissed, feelin worse than I ever did. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I handled that so badly. I want you not to love me. I am a fractious child. Stupid an clumsy. When it comes to Tommo, I jest cain’t git nuthin right.
Damn damn damn, I says softly. I don’t want the burden of his love. It weighs me down far more than my guilt ever could. I wish Molly was here. She knows about men. She’d tell me what to do.
Then Tommo hisses, Saba! an Tracker’s suddenly, outta nowhere, streakin circles around me, silent with raw wolf urgency. Warnin there’s some badness afoot. He races back towards the yard an from a standin start, we’re runnin, me an Tommo, tearin up the trail behind him. The red hot slams in to speed my feet. Lugh. It must be Lugh. He’s in trouble.
I grab Tracker’s collar an we duck behind a junkpile near the cookhouse. We catch our breath. Our bodies burn the fierce heat of sudden fear.
