He continued, “Nootau has started going through a growth spurt and is starting to change if you look at him. By the time it comes around, he will be a grown male.”
“It sounds as if we are struggling with letting him go,” said Adia, who had been practicing objectivity since her last experience with her father and Urilla Wuti in the Corridor.
Nadiwani got up and paced around a little. Because of Nootau’s superior size, Oh’Dar and Nootau had been separated while they were young. Oh’Dar had stayed with Adia, and Nootau with Nadiwani. Which, in a way, made it harder for Nadiwani.
Adia sighed. Acaraho sighed. Nadiwani sighed.
“Are we saying that he will be ready to be paired by that time?” asked Nadiwani.
“I think that we are all trying not to,” said Acaraho.
“So maybe we need to talk to Nootau and see what he thinks,” suggested Adia.
They all nodded.
“Let us stay after the evening meal and talk with him then,” suggested Acaraho.
That evening, the three of them stayed at the table and opened the subject with Nootau. As his father figure, Acaraho started.
“Nootau, do you remember Khon’Tor announcing that anyone ready to be paired should make it known? Your mother and Nadiwani and I want to know what your thoughts are on this. It is a way off yet, but are you interested in taking a mate any time soon? Have you ever thought about it?”
Nootau nodded and then remained silent for a moment. He spoke to Adia first.
“Mama, this is hard for me to say because I don't want to cause you any more pain, and I know how it has hurt you that Oh’Dar left. And I know you miss him every day. I do too. So the idea of me starting my own separate life must be very hard for you.”
Adia interrupted because it hurt her to hear his selfless concern.
“Oh, Nootau. Thank you for being so compassionate. Yes, I do miss Oh’Dar, but your father and Nadiwani and I had to accept his decision. And you cannot hold your life back trying to make something up to me that you did not cause in the first place. If you are ready to start your adult life, that is what matters. You will still be with us; we will still be a family. Yes, things will be different, but different is not necessarily bad. It takes time to adjust to changes, that’s all.”
“It is the nature of life to keep moving forward,” added Nadiwani.
Nootau looked over at Acaraho in a father and son moment.
“I have seen how you and Mama care for each other. I see how you like being together. I want that for myself someday. Right now, I am not ready. But by the time the High Council makes its decisions, I might be. How will I know?”
“Let me ask you a question, son. When you lie down at night, before you go to sleep what do you think about?” asked Acaraho.
“I think about you and Mama and Auntie Mama. And Kweeuu.”
“And Oh’Dar,” he added quietly, eyes down.
“Anything else? For instance, do you think of any of the others in our community?”
Nootau swallowed and smiled bashfully.
“Well, yes. Sometimes I think about Adsila, Etenia, and Cholena. Or Istas. Is that what you mean?” he asked, listing off the names of some of the young females his age or a little older.
Acaraho raised one eyebrow, smiled, tilted his head, and looked at Adia and Nadiwani.
The females chuckled, and Nadiwani replied, “Yes, Nootau. That is exactly what he meant.”
“Speaking from our viewpoint, we three think you will be ready by then. And from what you just told us, I now think so even more.” Acaraho slapped his hand gently on the young male’s shoulder and gave him a good-natured jostling.
Nootau looked down but was grinning from ear to ear.
Nadiwani was looking at him, her eyes stinging. He was the closest she would ever have to family, to a son. She consoled herself with the fact that he would not be leaving the People as Oh’Dar had done. And their family would be growing when he took a mate. And eventually, there would be the celebrations of offspring.
So the family had decided, and Nootau would be put in for consideration of a pairing. Nadiwani and Adia knew they would meanwhile be spending a great deal of time seeking the best possible match for their son through meditation with the Great Mother.
Miss Blain sat across from Oh’Dar with an assortment of nuts and fresh and dried fruits. They were still working on simple addition and subtraction. She pushed three acorns, an apple, a fig, and a pecan toward him across the small table.
He looked up at her and held up six fingers.
She took away an acorn and the fig.
He held up four fingers and shook his head at her slowly, frowning and smiling at the same time. He hadn’t been thrown off by the fact that the items were different from one another.
Miss Blain laughed.
“Alright, alright, yes, I tried to trick you. I’m sorry,” and she laughed again.
“Let’s work on some larger numbers,” she said, moving from the single digits to the double digits. He understood the numbers one through nine backward and forward.
Oh’Dar noticed she had started calling him Grayson now instead of Master Grayson. It felt more familiar, and he liked it.
The morning passed quickly as it always did. It was more of a game to Oh’Dar than school. He found he enjoyed learning about numbers as much as he had enjoyed learning about the different plants and flowers when he was younger. Mostly, he just enjoyed sitting across from Miss Blain and looking at her when she wasn’t paying attention.
When Miss Blain got up to change lessons, he liked how her clothes showed off her shape and where her waist nipped in and then spread out to become her hips. He wanted to undo her hair bindings and watch it fall down over her shoulders. He found himself thinking about her at night before he went to sleep. He wished his father was there to talk with about why he couldn’t get to sleep when his mind was on Miss Blain.
Lessons over, Miss Blain began to straighten up the room. Oh’Dar jumped up to help her, accidentally stepping in front of her. She lost her balance, and Oh’Dar instinctively reached out to catch her. For a moment she was in his arms, looking up at him, her brown hair coming loose from its arrangement.
He was very aware of the smell of her hair, the softness of her cheeks, and her warm brown eyes staring up into his. He looked at her pink lips just inches from his, and it struck him that she was beautiful. A moment passed too quickly before she collected her reason and freed herself from his accidental embrace.
She stepped back, smoothed down her apron, and tried to push her hair back into place. She quickly began picking up her supplies. Oh’Dar started to help her as he had intended to in the first place, but she stopped him.
“No, No, Master Grayson. It’s fine; I can do this. Please, go on now. Please,” she stammered, avoiding his eyes.
Oh’Dar felt as if he had done something wrong, and it hurt. He waited a moment, but she continued to ignore him, so he did as she wanted and left.
Back to Master Grayson again.
He went out to the barn, head down and shoulders slumped, to find Mr. Jenkins.
Oh’Dar took one look back at the house to see if Miss Blain had come outside, but she hadn’t, so he continued to the barn.
“What’s up, Master Grayson? Did your morning lesson not go well?”
Oh’Dar shrugged, looking dejected.
“Oh. I see. Does this have anything to do with your pretty young teacher, Miss Blain?”
Oh’Dar smiled sheepishly. How did Mr. Jenkins know?
“Don’t be embarrassed, son. There isn’t a man alive who hasn’t had a crush on his teacher, especially one as pretty as Miss Blain,” he chuckled, putting his arm around Oh’Dar as they walked to the stables.
Oh’Dar didn’t know what a crush was, but he got the gist of what his friend was saying. He wished he could let on that he could speak. He would like to have asked Mr. Jenkins why he couldn’t sleep at night, and what in the world was goin
g on with his body?
The next morning when it was time for his lesson, Oh’Dar was disappointed to see that Miss Blain had changed her clothing. She was no longer wearing the smooth, tailored clothes that showed off her figure. She was wearing something baggy and loose, like the clothes Mrs. Thomas wore.
Oh’Dar frowned, unable to hide his displeasure. He also noticed that the table they used to sit at had been replaced with a larger one, putting more space between them.
From then on, their lessons were more matter of fact. Miss Blain didn’t laugh as much at his cleverness, and he wasn’t distracted as much by watching her. And she never called him Grayson; only Master Grayson.
He was learning more but enjoying it less.
That evening, Miss Blain and Miss Vivian had one of their regularly scheduled meetings about Oh’Dar’s progress.
“Tell me, Miss Blain. How is my grandson doing?”
“I’ve had several students, Mrs. Morgan. And Grayson is by far one of the most intelligent I’ve ever seen. He enjoys learning. He has a quick mind. He’s doing far better at numbers than I would have thought, having had no formal schooling. I say formal because your stable master, Mr. Jenkins, said Grayson knows quite a bit about natural medicine, and he had to learn that somewhere. But as far as formal education goes, I can confidently say Grayson has not had any.”
“How is he handling his infatuation with you?” Mrs. Morgan asked, smiling.
Miss Blain could not help but let out a little laugh, though she did not mean it with any malice.
“Oh, if you could have seen his face when I came in wearing those baggy clothes. I felt so sorry for him. He looked like a dejected puppy. Truly, it almost broke my heart. He’s a sweet young man, and I would hate to hurt him in any way. But it has helped keep his mind on his lessons.
“I hope you know it isn’t unusual for a young man to have a crush on his teacher,” she added.
“I don’t blame you in the least, Miss Blain. I’m well aware of how young boys are. I raised two of my own.” Miss Vivian chuckled, then continued.
“It brings up a point, Miss Blain. I wonder if he knows anything about men and women. Perhaps Dr. Miller should talk to him.”
“Well, it won’t do any good if he can’t understand what the doctor’s saying,” she reminded Mrs. Morgan. “So I guess it’s time we move on to English. We can keep working on the numbers, but he needs to learn how to communicate. I can teach him to read at the same time.”
“Keep me posted, Miss Blain. And if there is anything else you need, anything at all, please let me know.” And Mrs. Morgan concluded their meeting.
Miss Blain went on up to her room and got ready for bed. The fluffy bed clothes welcomed her like a cloud of comfort. She sighed as she stretched out, enjoying the night air coming in through the open window. She tossed and turned a bit. Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered Grayson Morgan catching her as she stumbled and pulling her up against his chest, his arms around her, and staring up into those striking blue eyes.
He’s just a boy! Yes, but he didn’t seem like a boy when he had me in his arms! And so went her conversation with herself.
Mr. Jenkins had explained his plan several times to Oh’Dar. He went over how he hoped it would play out, and when he was confident that Oh’Dar understood it clearly, set it into motion. Finally, it was time.
The Summer days were long, and though it wasn’t yet twilight, it was past quitting time. Mr. Jenkins and Oh’Dar were still in the stables when Louis showed up.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Jenkins?” asked Louis, perplexed.
The stable master put down the flat shovel and leaned on the handle. Oh’Dar casually looked over, watching the two men.
“Yes, Mr. Morgan. I need to talk to you about something that has been bothering me a great deal since it happened.”
“Oh, and what is that?” asked Louis.
“The afternoon that you asked me to saddle up Dreamer and the horse took off with Master Grayson. I reminded you when you asked for Dreamer that he was barely broken in. Letting Master Grayson ride him was highly irresponsible, I’m sorry to say.”
“Yes, you did say that, and I knew it. But I didn’t tell the boy to try to ride him. I had dismounted, and he just pushed around me and mounted him. What was I supposed to do? Knock him to the ground to stop him?”
“Well, of course not, Mr. Morgan. I could certainly understand that. If that was what happened.”
“What do you mean? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mr. Morgan, I saw the whole thing. I saw you show the boy how to put his foot in the stirrup, and I saw you hand him the reins. And then, when the boy brought the horse under control, I also saw you smack Dreamer on the rump with your riding crop—hard—to make Dreamer bolt.”
Now standing straight and no longer resting his hands on the top of the shovel handle, Mr. Jenkins held Louis in a steely glare.
“I’m not going to ask you what you were trying to do, because we both know. And if I were to guess your motivation, I would say it had something to do with Miss Vivian’s wealth.” Mr. Jenkins kept his eyes pinned on Louis.
“You think you know something, old man, but you had better think twice. If I were you, I would keep my mouth shut, and if you know what’s good for you, you should do the same.”
“Well, that sounds like a threat, Mr. Louis. And why would I do that? So you can have a second chance at doing in your mother’s grandson?”
Louis took a menacing step toward Mr. Jenkins, and Oh’Dar stopped what he was doing and stepped closer.
Louis turned and pointed directly at his nephew. “And you, you little bastard. You can stop right where you are.”
With Jenkins distracted, Louis lunged forward and grabbed the shovel from the stable master’s hands.
Mr. Jenkins took a couple of steps back.
“You should have kept quiet. It’s none of your concern. What’s it to you, anyway?” shouted Louis.
At that moment, Mr. Jenkins grabbed his chest and staggered backward. Oh’Dar ran over to him and eased him down onto the ground, loosening his shirt so he could get as much air as possible.
“Get up!” Louis yelled at Oh’Dar. “Get up!” he yelled again.
Still crouched down next to Mr. Jenkins, Oh’Dar looked up at his uncle.
Louis stormed over and yanked Oh’Dar to his feet by his arm, then shoved him away from the older man.
Oh’Dar was watching his uncle’s every move. If Louis moved closer to Mr. Jenkins or started to raise his shovel, Oh’Dar would be on him in a second.
Instead, Louis came toward Oh’Dar, the shovel still in his hand.
“And you! What the hell are you doing here! You were supposed to die with your precious mother and father. If they had done their job right, you wouldn’t be alive. Stupid idiots couldn’t follow the simplest instructions. Ha!
“And you don’t even understand what I’m saying, do you? Well, listen up anyway, Miracle Boy, while I tell you the first and last bedtime story you’ll ever hear.
“It was supposed to look like some damn local savages killed you all. If they suspected otherwise, nothing came of it. Only, the stupid fools got so nervous and jacked up from drinking that they forgot all about you. They killed your mother and father just fine. One of the boys also had a real good time with your mother before she died, if you know what I mean. But they rode off and left you alive. I wasn’t too mad at them because the coyotes would have gotten you eventually anyway, at least that’s what should have happened.”
Louis was pacing back and forth in front of Oh’Dar, the shovel still in his hand. “Your grandmother almost lost her mind. We thought the shock would do her in, but no such luck. Because nobody found your body and you and your things were gone, she thought it was a kidnapping, and you were still alive. She kept waiting for a ransom note. I guess that gave her hope and kept her going. And now, all these years later, you show up. You should have stayed whe
rever the hell you were, just like old Jenkins here should have kept his mouth shut,” and he glanced at the old man lying on the hay.
Just then, Mr. Jenkins let out a moan and rolled over.
Louis turned to look at him. Oh’Dar rushed toward his uncle and wrestled the shovel out of his hands, knocked Louis over, then flung the shovel as far down the stable walkway as possible.
Louis rose to his feet quickly, dusting off the dirt and straw.
“You stupid kid. I feel sorry for your grandmother, her precious grandson coming home all of a sudden after all these years—only to mysteriously disappear and walk out of her life just as he suddenly walked into it. Only this time, I’m making sure you won’t be coming back.”
Louis pulled a pistol out of his pocket. Oh’Dar looked at it but had no idea what it was, though it was obviously dangerous.
“Get ready to join your parents, Grayson Morgan the Third,” he sneered, taking a step toward the boy and raising the pistol.
“Are you going to shoot us all?” A chorus of voices suddenly sounded, and at that moment, seventeen farm hands erupted out of the stall behind Oh’Dar.
Louis stood there, dumbfounded. At that moment, someone else grabbed him from behind, twisting his arm back and taking the pistol from him.
Louis looked around, surrounded by the complement of work-hardened men. About that time, Mr. Jenkins got up from where he was lying and brushed the hay off his clothes.
“Good job, boys. Good job,” he said.
The man with the gun motioned toward the house.
“Better get moving, Mr. Morgan. We’re all going to go see your mother right now,” ordered Mr. Jenkins.
Instead of doing as he was told, Louis bolted toward Oh’Dar.
Oh’Dar timed it just right. Without flinching, just as Louis reached him, he landed a solid blow on his uncle’s chin, knocking him out cold. Louis fell to the floor of the stalls, unconscious.
Oh’Dar walked across and stood over him. Looking down at Louis, he said, “I ought to kill you, you bastard, for what you did to my parents. But that would be too quick, and far better than you deserve.”
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