by Alyson Miers
"I'm sorry to hear that," Phoebe cut in.
"Yeah, well," Nadine continued, "don't ask me how we got on the subject, but she reminded me that we're celebrating a Christian holiday, while I'm busy acting like their God doesn't exist. I said it's a community tradition and I don't have much of a choice in the matter."
"It wasn't always a Christian holiday," Charlinder said. "Jesus wasn't really born in late December. The Christians appropriated the Winter Solstice celebration from the Earth-worshippers to boost the appeal of their religion. They did the same thing with the Spring Equinox for Easter."
"The Spring Equinox, I can understand," said Phoebe, "but why would the Earth-worshippers celebrate this time of year?"
"I've always figured, between the cold and the darkness, they needed something to keep them from going nuts," Charlinder suggested, "which is probably why we bother with it now."
"I wanna see you say that out loud in front of Ruthie," said Nadine.
"Why don't you say it instead?"
No one tried to bait Ruth that year. Christmas dawned sunny and frigid on them. Charlinder and Judith gathered their students together in the afternoon for their annual concert of such classics as "O Holy Night" and "Here We Come A-Wassailing" to the mitten-muffled applause of the village before their holiday feast. When the food was eaten up, Eleanor addressed the crowd. She congratulated their community on another year together, whose significance Charlinder never really understood, but no one was inclined to demand explanations. Her speech made more sense when she moved onto recognizing the children born that year. She continued with celebrating that everyone was in relatively good health so far that winter, which Darrell confirmed.
"...and we only have a few weeks left with our dear Charlinder!" she continued, at which he nearly jumped. "Now, Judith is doing very well at the school, so we don't have to worry about who'll teach the children. But Charlinder is leaving us next month, so we'll need to keep him in our prayers and ask the Lord to please bring him back to us in time."
At the end, Charlinder found himself trying to count up the number of times he'd been told, directly or not, that he was not expected to make it through his journey alive. Then he started wondering whether half the Faithful actually wanted to see him again, but he scolded himself for it. To his bewilderment, they had been nothing if not supportive for as long as he'd been planning his travels. They simply had different expectations for the answers he would bring back.
As the evening wore on, Charlinder drew towards the periphery of the Meeting Square with Sunny and a jug of home-brew, both of them laughing and trying to see how much they could drink without falling over. When she began leading him toward the schoolhouse, he was about to protest, but then remembered through his drunken haze that there were no children in there, so it would not hurt to see what Sunny wanted. He found a fire already crackling in the hearth and a set of blankets arranged on one of the tables.
"Oh, it's warm in here, I like that," Charlinder observed, and then Sunny encouraged him onto the table between the blankets, where she promptly joined him.
"I sure hope so," said Sunny, and unceremoniously began taking off her outerwear and helping Charlinder out of his.
"What's the occasion?" he wondered aloud.
"It's Christmas," she answered, as if that were all the reason she needed. "Good will to men and all that."
"Does that mean we're gonna hark the herald angels sing?"
"What the hell does that mean, anyway?"
"I don't think we're supposed to know what it means."
Sunny leaned in and spoke into his ear. "I know what this means, though," she said, and then, like she knew he enjoyed, started nibbling on his ear.
She was on top of him just then, and he wouldn't stay like that. He flipped them over, made short work of the rest of their clothes, and he and Sunny warmed each other up.
Charlinder woke up when the fire had faded down to shrinking embers. He was tangled up in some blankets with an equally naked Sunny, but he was also chilly, hungry, had a minor headache, and needed to empty his bladder. He disentangled himself from Sunny and stumbled around in the dark to shiver his way back into his clothes.
"Char, could you hand me my clothes?" Sunny mumbled from her place on the table where his 7-year-olds usually did their classwork.
He found her clothes and tossed them to her with all the grace he could spare in finding things in a dark and cold room while getting dressed so he could go outside to relieve himself. He yanked on his sweater and hat and ran outside.
Despite the cold, or perhaps because of the sudden crisp air on his face, he realized something once he was able to relax between the nearby trees.
Running back inside, he was glad to find Sunny dressed and still conscious.
"Listen, maybe you remember better. Did we use a condom?" he asked.
"No, we didn't," she replied unconcernedly.
"That's not good," he started.
"No, it's fine, Char. Don't worry about it."
"What stage are you at in your cycle now?"
"Really, just forget it. You have enough to do already," she insisted. "Now I am going back to my cabin to sleep."
There were no classes at school for the rest of December and all through January. So it was scheduled when Eileen Woodlawn taught the community's first children, so the tradition continued into Charlinder's childhood. This meant he had nothing to do in the ensuing days except prepare for his departure. This included meeting with Judith to help her plan future lessons, but mostly it involved creating and acquiring supplies to add to his travel provisions.
On the third day after Christmas, Phoebe asked Charlinder to take a walk with her, which ended up in the stable loft, with enjoyable (though not surprising) results. Two days after that, Yolande left Stuart with Miriam while Bruce was away and asked Charlinder to check a weak spot in the wall of her cabin. He saw nothing amiss with the situation at first, but soon found that she had other ideas and that Kenny hadn't been exaggerating about her.
The day after that was the last of the year. Charlinder stayed up with the rest of the village as the celebration raged on into the night, but to his curiosity and slight disappointment, none of his friends tried to pull him away to a secluded spot and take off his pants that night. On the first day of 2131, however, Meredith took him behind the smokehouse, where they had a good time together.
"So, who's the special girl?" Roy asked that evening after they came in from dinner.
"Which 'special girl'?" Charlinder reacted, now completely wrong-footed.
"I know you're doing sex, and a lot of it this week. I can smell it on you."
"Oh, shit," he cringed. "Sorry." He sat down on his bed and took off his moccasins.
"Don't apologize," Roy chuckled as he reclined on his bed, "just tell me, who's the lucky girl?"
"Meredith today. Before that, it was Yolande," he went on, while Roy’s eyes opened wide, "then Phoebe," Charlinder felt his face burn while his uncle struggled not to laugh, "then Sunny."
"Damn," Roy began.
"No, please don’t--"
"My nephew, the sex god!"
Charlinder buried his face in his hands. "Stop it, Uncle!"
"I always knew you had a way with the ladies, but this?"
"Shut up!"
"This is really something!"
"I'll hit you!"
"Oh, pfft, I may be old, but I can still knock you down with one hand!"
"You want me to smack you in the face with a wool card? Because that’ll leave a mark!"
"You haven't landed a good shot in anyone's face since you delivered Robert a fresh knuckle sandwich when you were seven."
Of course that was true; he could threaten Roy about as well as he could order a buck to fall on his arrow.
"Shit," Charlinder muttered, "I wish I knew what was going on."
"Char, it's not just a river in Egypt."
"I don't know what you're saying."
"That'
s simple: you love the ladies, and they love you!"
"Aaaagh!" he groaned.
"If it makes you this uncomfortable that your spinning buddies are all jumping your bones, you could just tell them no," Roy suggested. "I think they'd understand."
"Why in the hell would I do something like that?!" Charlinder demanded.
"Because this is obviously bothering you so much?"
"You're the one who's bothering me! The sex is the only thing in my life right now that feels good!"
The ridiculous grin dropped off Roy’s face; they both just looked at each other for a few seconds.
"Okay, then," said Roy. "Sorry I asked."
Charlinder got into bed and faced the wall.
"Anyway," said Roy, "Have you decided on a date of departure yet? Do you know exactly when you’re leaving us?"
Charlinder figured it would have been much better if Roy had started with that question. "I’ll leave by the middle of the month."
"The fifteenth? Sixteenth? We need specifics here."
"I haven't quite figured that out yet, okay?"
"Then you need to figure it out soon."
As he fell asleep, his mind took him back to Sunny's teeth on his ear, Kenny's laughing face as they waited in a tree for passing game, Judith teaching her first math lesson at school, Miriam and Roy sitting him down to ask him what was the matter, his youngest students running up for hugs on the last day of school before Christmas, and afternoons in Spinners' Square with all his friends bursting into laughter. He pictured the weeks in Spring right after the sheep had their lambs, and the time just after harvest when the whole community finally breathed a sigh of relief. All those and more memories ran together in a steady loop with his uncle's gentle snoring in the background. Suddenly, the time left until the middle of the month seemed too short.
Chapter Eleven
Compass
On the other side of a good night’s sleep, Charlinder still wasn’t satisfied with his uncle’s account of the "river in Egypt" remark. There was something Roy knew about what was going on that he hadn’t said in so many words, and Charlinder was afraid to ask him to spell it out. It hadn’t been his first time with Sunny, Meredith or Phoebe, so having any one of them come onto him would have been welcome and not in need of any explanation. All four in such a short span of time was a different matter. Which was not to say that he regretted any of those encounters in the least; as bizarre as the sudden burst of sexual activity was, the only thing more unthinkable was the idea that he would turn it down. He thought he would never really be finished preparing, but even with inadequate provisions, he would still be taking too much away from the village. Letting his spinning buddies jump his bones (as his uncle put it) was a reprieve from the competing anxieties he had to manage. He enjoyed it, he could see that they enjoyed it, and he wasn’t taking anything away from someone else. Alone with one of his friends, he didn’t have to think about the risks he was about to take.
Even after Roy’s admonition to tell them how much longer it would be, he didn't set a departure date right away. On the morning of the third, he still didn't feel ready to decide exactly when he would leave. Nadine found him hiding behind the kitchen with his spindle that afternoon. It wasn't quite as nice as Spinners' Square--in fact it was downright depressing--but he needed to be productive without his neighbors watching, as he couldn't tell whether they wished him luck or assumed they'd never see him again.
"Char, could you check one of the spinning wheels for me? I think there's a problem with the turning shaft," she asked. He went off with her to the textile shed.
"All better now," he showed her after oiling the part in question. "Just keep it lubricated, make sure everything's bolted straight, and it should hold up."
"Good," she agreed. "Let's go for a walk."
It occurred to him that she could have easily fixed the spinning wheel herself. He also noticed they were headed towards the schoolhouse. The question came out before he even considered how gauche it would sound.
"Nadine, are you about to seduce me?"
She let go of his arm, looking either scandalized or impressed.
"Because I hope you are," he finished.
"In fact I am," she answered with a smile.
"Then let's do it."
After they finished, he said, "you know you're the fifth one to come onto me since Christmas?" They were snuggled together between the blankets, determined to stay there for as long as the fire crackled.
"What, are we a little too much for you?" she asked, grinning.
"I'm not complaining," he insisted, "but, did you all get together and plan this?"
"You make it sound like we're doing something sneaky."
"Are you trying to keep me from leaving?"
"Of course not. We just want you to leave with some happy memories."
"Oh, I will. But that doesn't explain why none of you brought your condoms."
Nadine shrugged, too quickly for Charlinder's liking. "We don't need them right now."
"So, what do you think Miriam would say about all five of you doing unprotected sex with me in less than two weeks?"
"Miriam knows," she replied, as though he should have known that much already. “Why would she stand in the way?”
He didn’t talk to his uncle until suppertime, and no one else for the rest of the day. They weren't angry at each other, they simply didn't need to talk. They were eating dinner at their usual spot in the Meeting Square before Charlinder spoke up.
"It'll be the sixteenth," he said between bites of soybean stew.
"Pardon?"
"I'll leave on the morning of the sixteenth," he told Roy.
"Good. I'm glad that's decided."
Word of his departure date spread around the village by the following afternoon. Every time he saw Eleanor, the first thing she would say was, "Only twelve more days," then eleven, and so forth, looking more shocked and crestfallen every day.
The fifteenth of January was his last day. He knew there would be some kind of farewell for him that evening, but he only wanted to get the day finished. Roy took Charlinder to see Darrell shortly before lunch, though why he needed to see the medic by then, he couldn't imagine.
"Your uncle and I want to give you something before you leave," said the old man when they arrived at the infirmary.
"I hope it isn't heavy," said Charlinder, at which his uncle and Darrell chuckled.
"It's very small and light," said Roy. "We were searching around the Council's storage cell, with all those pre-Plague things, and we found something I think you'll want to carry with you."
Darrell took the lid off his trunk and soon came out with something small and round in his hand. He handed the little disk of metal to Charlinder, who was astounded to turn it over and find a pane of glass over a needle wobbling between the letters of N, E, S and W arranged around the face.
"It's not every day you find one of them hiding in a pot of venison fat," said Darrell, upon seeing the look on Charlinder's face.
"Yeah, I think I can carry this," he said.
The farewell feast that night was a tedious affair. It was a time for everyone to say their goodbyes to him, but he would have been just as happy to let them come over and say a few words over the regular meal at the meeting square. The strange thing about the setting was that the room was not big enough to hold over 150 people; Roy confirmed that the Faithful were not there, as they were off having a prayer session on Charlinder’s behalf. He wanted to point out that it was rather odd for them to pray over someone who saw prayer as a waste of time, but no matter; they could do with their spare time as they would.
It was better after he was allowed to leave his seat and mill around the room. Darrell gave Charlinder his space, Judith was there but had already said her goodbyes, and Miriam never fully stopped crying all evening. She kept telling Charlinder that she loved him, to please take care of himself, and that no one would blame him if he changed his mind. After her younger dau
ghter pulled her away for the second time, Roy found Charlinder and took him outside.
"You can go back to our cabin now," he said. His voice seemed oddly amplified against the sudden quiet of the dark, freezing air. "If you want to get up early, you don't want to wait for this to wind down."
"Won't they miss me?"
"Don't worry about them," Roy waved him off. "You know this is more for their sake than yours."
Charlinder did as his uncle suggested. There was nothing waiting in their block of the village except a rooster they'd brought over to their cabin that afternoon. The bird was now asleep on a pad of wool felt outside the door. Charlinder went inside and to bed, knowing he would not sleep any time soon.