“Who has the locket now?” the sheriff asked.
“After he showed it to me, I gave it back to him.” Mrs. Webb turned to Oh’Dar and pointed to his chest and then made a little motion as if opening the locket and nodded at him.
Oh’Dar played his part and took a moment pretending to figure out what she was saying. Then, once again, he lifted off the leather pouch, pulled out the locket, and handed it to Mrs. Webb, who opened it and gave it to the sheriff.
The sheriff looked at it and nodded to Mrs. Webb, closing it back up before handing it back to Oh’Dar. Oh’Dar was relieved that they didn’t try to keep it, and put it back securely into the pouch around his neck.
“Somewhere in my files, I probably still have that old reward poster. I’ll see if I can find it.” The sheriff got up, and before he left, patted Oh’Dar reassuringly on the shoulder, holding the young man’s gaze kindly for a moment.
Oh’Dar didn’t know what a reward poster was, but things were going better than he could have hoped. So far, none of these people were acting like the Waschini monsters he had overheard others whispering about. As the sheriff headed toward the door, Mrs. Webb called after him that she would take the boy back to her house for the time being.
Oh’Dar finished his meal and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Grace picked up a cloth next to her and wiped her mouth with it. She smiled and nodded. Oh’Dar found a similar cloth on his side of the table and repeated her gesture. She giggled.
“Look, Mama! I taught him how to use a napkin!”
“Come on, Grace,” her mother smiled at her. “Let’s take him home and try to help him settle down. Maybe there are some of your brother’s clothes that will fit him.”
Mrs. Webb got up and extended her hand to Oh’Dar. He took it and followed them out of the diner.
It was a little bit of a walk to their home. Oh’Dar looked left and right the whole way, taking in as much as possible.
They left the town area and walked down a little path. Grace skipped ahead and kept turning around, pointing things out to Oh’Dar and naming them as if he could understand.
“That’s a tree! And that’s a fence post! And that’s Mr. Kane’s windmill way over there!”
When they arrived at what seemed to be the Webbs’ home, Oh’Dar stopped and stared curiously at the many small levels that led to the door. He had only ever seen sloped walkways and rocky inclines. Grace thought he could not work them out, so she demonstrated how to go up each level, and he discovered that they were called stairs. The little girl was so excited to help that Oh’Dar humored her.
Once inside, Oh’Dar started to sweat. His eyes darted from the walls to the ceiling to the walls again. He wasn’t used to such a confined space.
Mrs. Webb said something to her daughter about heating some water. Then she mentioned Ned’s clothes and going back outside. Grace came over, took him by the hand, and led him through the house and out through a door at the back.
She showed him the flowers she and her mother had planted. Then she showed him her father’s garden, naming all the little plants growing in neat little rows.
Oh’Dar didn’t recognize any of the names, but he did recognize the plants themselves. Seeing something familiar intrigued and distracted him. He also spotted a set of poles with Washini wrappings hanging on them, obviously set out to dry, and a large stack of firewood beyond the plantings.
After a while, Grace led Oh’Dar back inside to where there was a set of stairs going up to another level. Grace motioned that she wanted him to stay, and she ran up the stairs. In a few minutes, she came back with her arms full and took him to another room that he later learned was a kitchen.
Mrs. Webb was there, setting out a large bowl that she filled with water from a big, black metal pot. Then she disappeared into the back and came out with two pieces of cloth, one larger and one smaller, and a white block of something. Mrs. Webb then imitated washing motions with them. Oh’Dar realized that he was to clean up using the items she had just given him. It seemed that he was to put on the clean wraps afterward, in place of those he was wearing. Mrs. Webb motioned him to go ahead, and she and Grace stepped out of the room.
Oh’Dar dipped the little cloth in the water and was pleasantly surprised to find it was warm. He was grateful for this chance to wash; he was used to being clean, and the warm water made it a very pleasant task. He held the white block up to his nose; it reminded him of the Soapwort root they used at home for cleaning. As he washed, his mind was turning, trying to think of what the People could use in a similar fashion to heat water over a fire.
When he finished, he bundled up his travel clothes and peeked his head out of the room. They were outside waiting for him.
Mrs. Webb led him to a room at the back and pointed to a raised platform in the corner, indicating he should sit, then stepped back out. The platform was covered in very fine material, much like his blue blanket.
Oh’Dar sat down carefully, and it gave under him. He got up, and it bounced up with him. It was nothing like the solid sleeping mats of the People and the Brothers.
He was feeling overwhelmed. Everything was strange without even a hint of the familiar. It was all straight lines and corners and hard surfaces, and there was little airflow. He didn’t know what to do next, or what was going to happen next. If it weren’t for Khon’Tor’s words, he would never have come, and now, more than anything, he desperately wanted to go back.
Oh’Dar could not help himself. He flopped down on the sleeping platform and buried his face in his arms. He regretted it all. He missed Adia; he missed Acaraho. He missed Kweeuu. He missed everyone. He wanted to go home.
After a little while, there was a knock on the door. The door opened a crack and in looked Grace and Mrs. Webb.
As soon as they opened the door, a little furry figure came running in and jumped onto the bed. It started licking Oh’Dar furiously. He was so caught off guard that he almost spoke! He grabbed the little animal up and dangled it in front of him, its tongue still poking out furiously, trying to lick him. Oh’Dar couldn’t help but smile.
Well, what are you? You’re all curly and greyish, and you don’t look anything like Kweeuu, but I’ll bet somehow you’re related.
It was as friendly as Kweeuu and built the same, only much smaller.
Still smiling, he looked over at Mrs. Webb, and she said, “He’s our dog. His name is Buster.”
Of course, Oh’Dar didn’t know what dog meant, but the fact that they had named it meant that it must be a pet just like Kweeuu was. He hugged the little animal to him and felt the tiniest bit better.
“Oh, look, Mama, he likes Buster. Can Buster stay with him? I think that will help!” exclaimed Grace.
“Of course. I’ll go and get Buster’s dishes, and if he wants, the dog can stay with him.”
Oh’Dar petted Buster some more, trying to make it obvious that he did want the little dog to stay.
A little later, while he was sitting on the bed with Buster, Oh’Dar overheard Mrs. Webb talking to someone at the door. It sounded like the sheriff. He heard something about notifying a family and that it would take some time for them to get there. He heard Mrs. Webb say that the boy could stay with them as long as needed.
“I’m sure his family will appreciate that. From what I understand, they’re pretty well-to-do. I’m sure when they get here, they will make right with you for his keep. I’m just not sure what you’re going to do with him until then since he can’t speak and all,” said the sheriff.
“We’ll figure something out. If it were my son, I would want someone to take care of him, and that’s what we’re going to do,” replied Mrs. Webb.
So I do have a family somewhere. And they’re coming here. At least I can stay until they arrive. But then?
The little dog sat next to Oh’Dar, staring up at him, pink tongue hanging out. Oh’Dar lay down, and the little dog curled up against him, behind his knees. Not realizing how tired he was, Oh’Dar fell asleep with
in seconds.
He awoke to male voices in the house. It wasn’t the sheriff’s voice. There were two, an older and a younger voice. Oh’Dar could tell they were discussing him, but no-one seemed to be upset. And something smelled good.
A few minutes later, there was another knock at the door. Mrs. Webb stuck her head through and extended her hand, making it clear she wanted him to come out of the room and follow her.
Oh’Dar got up and followed Mrs. Webb out. She led him into a brightly lit room, larger than any he had been in so far. There was a long table in the center, filled with bowls of what definitely smelled like food. A tall man stood to the side with a young man about Oh’Dar’s age. Even though she obviously thought that he couldn’t understand her, Mrs. Webb told Oh’Dar that the man’s name was Mr. Webb. Oh’Dar was grateful for her courtesy, and because Mr. Webb seemed to live with them, he decided the man must be her mate.
Mrs. Webb took Oh’Dar to the table and pulled out a seat. He sat down as the others pulled out their seats and sat down too.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out as dishes were passed left and right. Mrs. Webb handed him a bowl and with a shiny stick, plopped some of the contents onto the plate in front of him.
Grace picked up a little tool next to her plate and showed him how to use it. It was called a fork. Oh’Dar paid attention because he now knew that they didn’t eat with their hands. This seemed a much harder way to eat, but he did his best.
Mr. Webb and Mrs. Webb did most of the talking. She explained to the man and the boy how they had found him and that he didn’t seem to understand English. Mrs. Webb had another name, Nora, and he learned that her mate’s name was Matthew—at least, that was how they addressed each other. They called the boy his age Ned.
Oh’Dar thought perhaps Mr. Webb and Mrs. Webb were titles, just as his mother was called Adia and also Healer. It was all pretty confusing, and Oh’Dar gave up trying to understand the reasoning—perhaps it was no different than addressing adults as Adik-Tar, or Khon’Tor as Adoeete.
He understood almost all the conversation, but, most importantly, they were speaking very calmly and kindly. He felt welcome and started to relax a little bit.
By the time everyone else was done, he had only eaten about a third of what he wanted because the fork slowed him up. It was still more than he had eaten in a long time, and he was grateful for it all. He didn’t know what any of it was, but it all tasted good.
Oh’Dar didn’t know what to do with himself, so he sat where he was while they moved everything off the table. Mrs. Webb and Grace took care of all the food, and Oh’Dar found this division of labor familiar.
As he sat there, he reflected on what had happened that day. It startled me when Mrs. Webb spoke; hearing someone other than Honovi use Whitespeak threw me off, and I almost answered! But I hardly know anything yet about what I’ve gotten myself into. It is still best they don’t know I can understand them.
So far, everyone has been very kind, even the man they called the sheriff, who I think is someone like my father. None of them are like the stories I’ve overheard about the Waschini.
Oh’Dar knew he would be wise to keep to small moves and take his time before revealing anything about himself. They were so kind that his deception bothered him, but he stuck to his plan.
Mrs. Webb and Grace weren’t done clearing away, but Oh’Dar stood up and scooted the chair out behind him. They turned, and he pointed back toward the room where they had left him before. They nodded and smiled and made waving motions as if they were good-naturedly shooing him away.
Oh’Dar was glad to be back in the little room. He was happy to see that the dog was still there. Within minutes, Oh’Dar was fast asleep again; the tiny dog curled up against him as before.
The watchers had followed Oh’Dar as close to the Washini town as they could. They watched the woman and the young girl greet him. They saw him go into a building, come out, and walk away with them around a corner. They could not get any closer without risking discovery. From everything they had seen, they were confident enough that Oh’Dar was not in any danger, and they decided to return and update Acaraho.
Acaraho and Adia were relieved to learn that Oh’Dar had made it safely to the Waschini town and that it was indeed where he had been headed. Nothing the watchers had seen gave any cause for alarm. The fact that two women had greeted him was greatly reassuring to Adia. They had never heard of any Waschini women being cruel or harming anyone.
Acaraho reassured himself that he had done his best by his son. Oh’Dar knew almost as much about how to take care of himself as any of the People. Adia rested on the promises she had received from the other world that he would come out of this safely.
They had not planned on letting their eldest offspring go so soon, and they could not understand why all of a sudden, he had decided to leave.
But it was out of their hands. Whatever was in store for Oh’Dar was up to him to handle now.
Over the next few days, Oh’Dar started helping Mr. Webb as much as he could. Early one morning, he saw the man outside working a patch of soil off toward the back of the house. Oh’Dar had seen the Brothers use similar tools of a rougher design, and planting was something he knew how to do.
Oh’Dar had walked out to Mr. Webb, and, catching his attention, pointed to the tool and made the same motion the man was making. Then he patted his palm against his chest. Mr. Webb understood, handed Oh’Dar his tool, and fetched another for himself.
They worked side by side for the rest of the afternoon, and at the end of the day, they stood next to each other, admiring their work.
The next morning, Oh’Dar helped him plant the ground they had just tilled.
At night he listened to their talk over the evening meal. They never spoke ill of him. Instead, Mr. Webb complimented him on how hard he worked and how much he seemed to know about planting. Oh’Dar was glad to have tasks to pass the day. He knew they were waiting for his family members to arrive.
Then one night at the evening meal, Mrs. Webb said that while she was in town, the sheriff had told her the boy’s family should be there within two days. Oh’Dar almost reacted when he heard that but caught himself just in time. That night he had a hard time sleeping, his stomach twisted in knots again.
Finally, it was the day Oh’Dar’s family was supposed to arrive. There was a flurry of activity in the house that morning. Mrs. Webb and Grace were especially busy, fussing about. It was a bit like when Adia and Nadiwani straightened everything in the work area before starting a new project. Oh’Dar assumed it had to do with the people who were coming to see him.
Once they were done with the house itself, they turned their attention to him. Mrs. Webb brought him back to the kitchen and the familiar large container of water; then, as she stepped out of the room, she motioned to him to go ahead.
After Oh’Dar had cleaned up and returned to his room, he saw new wrappings laid out on the bed like the first time. He pulled on the new pants and slipped his arms through the sleeves of the new top. He frowned as he tugged on the shoes. They pinched his feet and were inflexible. He saw no improvement over his moccasins, but he put up with them so he would fit in.
I was struggling because I don’t fit in with the People. And here I am, with people of my own kind, struggling even harder to fit in.
Oh’Dar tried to banish his thoughts.
Finally, all the commotion settled down, and everyone was seated and waiting in a large room on the other side of the kitchen. They hadn’t spent time there before; almost everything happened in the kitchen. Oh’Dar guessed that they saved the room for special occasions like this.
The waiting was worse than the earlier commotion.
Before too long, however, someone knocked at the door. Mrs. Webb rose and went to greet them. Everyone was speaking at once, so Oh’Dar could not easily tell what was being said.
Mrs. Webb brought three people in; a woman somewhat older than her, and a younger man and woman. The
older woman’s hair was a color Oh’Dar had never seen before—a type of ochre, though darker. The man had the same coloring. Oh’Dar was mesmerized by it.
Mrs. Webb first introduced Mrs. Morgan, her son, Louis, and his wife, Charlotte, to her family and then brought them over to meet Oh’Dar.
Grace gave up her seat so Mrs. Morgan could sit next to him. The lady turned and looked at Oh’Dar’s blue eyes and his pitch-black hair, which was straight as could be. She looked at his skin tone, even picking up one of his hands and turning it over. She seemed to stare at him for the longest time, observing each contour of his face.
Finally, she turned to Mrs. Webb and said, “You told me he has the locket with him?”
“Yes. He keeps it in a pouch he wears around his neck. He’s protective of it, as you can imagine,” answered Mrs. Webb. She turned to Oh’Dar, making the little motion of opening a locket and pointing to Mrs.Morgan sitting next to him. Of course, Oh’Dar already knew what they wanted, but he had to play along.
He took the treasure out of its pouch, and as before, held up the locket, letting it spin on its chain. Mrs. Morgan raised her eyebrows and motioned to ask whether she could hold it.
He handed it to her gently.
Mrs. Morgan opened it up and inhaled and exhaled deeply, nodding as she recognized each of the pictures. One was her son Grayson Morgan Junior, whom they called Morgan, and the other was his young wife, Rachel.
She closed it very carefully and handed it back to the young man, who promptly placed it back into its pouch.
She watched as he stood up and left; the others also watched him go and exchanged confused glances. He returned in a moment with a carrying basket that he sat on the floor. He reached into the bottom of the basket and pulled out the blue baby blanket. When she saw it, Mrs. Morgan’s hands flew to her face. She took it gingerly, slowly turning it over to where the stitching was at the bottom.
She traced the monogram on the corner, the initials GSM. Tears sprung into her eyes as she brought the blanket up to her face. Louis and Charlotte looked at each other.
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